Chapter Eight

I Am Undone

A/N: Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger (except I'm not - they're really fun to write, mwahahaha), but thank you to Nicely Nicely's Little Sister, arosequartz, Stardust, and Ealasaid Una for your reviews in the interim! Also, sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, BUT as you'll quickly see, it's the longest one I've ever written. For both stories :O

As soon as Skates woke up, she wished she hadn't.

'Awww…' She pushed herself off the freezing, damp, musty ground. It took three blinks for her surroundings to clarify.

'Oh, you guys, thank God.'

'Skates,' breathed the girls in relief. Ace, to her right, gently pulled her into a hug without causing her head further pain.

'I'm so sorry hun,' she said, eyes squeezed shut. 'They pulled me back so fast, I couldn't keep hold.'

'Wha? Oh, right…' Until then, Skates didn't have any memory of the previous day's events. She took in the unadorned walls with peeling paint, the small barred window out of reach, and the others' drained faces.

'We're in jail, ain't we?'

'Yeah,' said Ace, sitting against the wall with her elbows on her knees. 'For a whole night and mornin' now. I was startin' to dread you'd never wake up.'

'I'm so thirsty,' croaked Madison, on the other side of the cell, about half the size of the lodging house washroom.

'What I wouldn't give for a bit a' bread right now,' said Streets, folding herself up to keep the hunger pangs at bay.

'When d'ya think they'll bring us in for trial?' asked Vi, eyes fixed on the bars of the door.

'Any hour now,' said Frames. She removed her glasses to massage the bridge of her nose. 'They can't keep us in here much longer without a sentence.'

'I don't think I want 'em to come,' muttered Darlin', shivering. 'I just…Ace?'

She looked across with an unreadable expression. Darlin's blue eyes were painted with quiet fear.

'What's gonna happen to us?'

Ace vacantly rubbed her wrists along the handcuff marks. From down the hall she heard distant voices of other inmates, of thieves, prostitutes, and other societal street rats. Her eyes rested on the cell door as she was forced to admit the following words:

'I don't know, Darlin'. I honestly do not know.'


'Hey Jack, look!'

The sleep-deprived leader broke out of his cigarette smoke-hazed trance and followed Tumbler's pointed arm.

'Spot?' he said, half-expecting the approaching figures to be a hallucination. 'Dave?'

'Heya Jack,' said Spot gravely. David pulled his coat lapels closer to insulate himself from a cutting breeze.

'I was just running over when I saw Spot coming the other way.'

'Well we're glad you're here,' said Racetrack, stepping away from the bare tree he was leaning against. 'Been here a good hour an' we ain't got any idea what the hell's happenin' in there.'

He threw his hand to the face of the courthouse. A sizeable gathering of reporters and spectators waited outside the doors. Several had dry plate cameras at the ready.

'I just can't believe this,' said David, giving Jack a sad pat on the shoulder. He turned to Boots. 'I almost thought you were kidding when you came racing round to the apartment last night.'

'If only,' sighed Boots, scuffing snow off the edge of the sidewalk. He watched Snoddy, Specs and Bumlets wandering the perimeters of the streets, halfheartedly calling out headlines to displace the anxious wait:

'Price a' eggs expected to increase by 3% next year.'

'Man drowns in boating accident.'

'Winter drought foreseen until mid-January.'

Mush and Blink leant back to back on a bench, wanting to fall asleep but forcing themselves to stay alert.

'I can't take much more a' this,' said Blink, hugging his arms.

'Me neither kid,' said Mush. 'But we gotta try. They can't keep us in the lurch forever.'

'Well it's startin' to feel like forever.'

'Denton!' shouted David suddenly, waving. 'Denton, over here, we're over here!'

'Boys,' panted the reporter, jogging their way. 'Are you alright?'

'What do you think?' snapped Skittery, before sighing. 'Sorry.'

'Well, I've just heard the trial's due to start in under ten minutes.'

Half the newsies' eyes were on Denton, and the other half on the courthouse. He reached into one of his pockets and withdrew a rectangular card.

'Now, I can get in on my press pass, but they'll never let me bring you all in. Nominate two people and you can observe…Jack?'

'Yeah,' he responded without hesitation. He put out his cigarette in the snow and turned to assess which newsie to take with him.

He quickly realized, glancing at Blink, Mush, Crutchy and Racetrack's stricken faces, that this was an impossible decision. He felt a headache come on like a blaring siren.

'Jack, I need an answer,' said Denton firmly.

'Alright, alright,' he said, striking the air with a flat palm. For one second he shut down all thoughts and said the first name that wrote itself in the remaining blank space: 'Spot.'

The Brooklyn leader looked taken aback, but assented. The other newsies were crestfallen, but said nothing. David took up a spot against some railings with the others and resigned himself to a long wait.

'Alright then,' said Denton. 'Let's go. We'll see you back here soon.'

'Good luck,' said the newsies as the three of them headed to the courthouse, although the sentiment wasn't so much for them as it was for the girls inside.


'All rise, all rise,' ordered the bailiff inside the courtroom. 'Court is now in session, Judge F.D Rubenstein presiding.'

As Jack and Spot stood, they both felt a strange reversal of memory: just six months ago, they had been the ones standing trial, and now here they were, safely ensconced in the public seating area. Denton was already taking notes.

They sat down again as the judge, a slim man approaching middle age, with a gaunt face and watchful eyes, hit his gavel against the desk.

'Hey Jack,' whispered Spot, nodding at the rows ahead. 'Who are all dese people?'

'I don't know,' muttered Jack, frowning. But when he caught sight of Skates's mother in a row on the right, he realized he did. 'Wait…it's their families.'

Denton overheard this and paid closer attention to the strangers: there were eight 'sets', as it were, altogether. Jack searched the backs of their heads and side profiles for traits that might tell him whose parents were whose, but was quickly distracted by a door creaking open at the back of the courtroom. The bailiff recited, sharply and concisely:

'Case of Genevieve Heximer, Leonie Starczewski, Sofia Mascio, Pearl Rabinovich, Ivy Gelsinger, Alda Arnstein, Fay Bletchley, and Charity Erving, for unlawful vagrancy and concealment of identity.'

To Jack, this stream of names didn't match the Ace, Skates, Streets, Rich, Vi, Madison, Darlin' and Frames he knew, as they lined up solemnly before the judge's desk. Snyder's condescending mention of 'Francis Sullivan' sounded inside his head, and Jack felt quietly furious on the girls' behalf.

Gasps and muttered reprimands echoed around the room as the families saw their daughters, handcuffed and ragged, in newsboy clothes. Judge Rubenstein remained impassive.

'Are any of you represented by legal counsel?'

The girls looked at one another before silently electing Ace to answer for them:

'No, your honor.'

'In which case,' he said, glancing down at some sheets of paper. 'We shall proceed with a brief set of questions as to your charges. Am I to presume you are willing to speak for yourself and these others?'

Ace stared up at him, as composed as she could be under the circumstances.

'Yes, your honor.'

'Very good, and which are you?'

'Heximer, your honor. Genevieve Heximer.'

'Miss Heximer,' said the judge, leaning over the desk. 'Do you know these other girls?'

'Yes, your honor.'

'Are they your friends?'

'Yes, your honor.'

'Did you conspire to run away from home together?'

Ace paused without breaking eye contact.

'…No, your honor. There was no conspiracy involved. We each left home of our own accord and became friends afterwards.'

'I see. And why did you run away?'

'Is that a question for me, or for all of us?' asked Ace, tiredness on her shoulders like heavy milk pails. 'Because, your honor, I can only give you my answer.'

'Then give me your own answer.'

Ace glanced at the polished floor for the first time. She'd already seen her parents in the public seats, which made speaking about this subject aloud all the more difficult.

'Well, your honor,' she said eventually. 'I was deeply unhappy at home. It…was no longer an environment I could tolerate.'

'You were unhappy?' repeated Rubenstein, his expression as inscrutable as hers. 'In what sense?'

'My parents, your honor,' she said, willing her throat not to dry up as she mentioned the people she wanted more than anything not to acknowledge. 'We reached an impasse in our views on whether or not I should…be married, your honor.'

'Does this apply to any of you?' asked Rubenstein, casting his eyes over the girls. They nodded. For the first time, his face became animated as his eyebrows shot up. 'All of you?'

'Yes, your honor,' said Ace. From the back of the courtroom, their families exchanged shocked, hurt and confused whispers that grew loud enough for Rubenstein to bang his gavel.

'Silence in court!'

There was silence. The judge drummed his skinny fingers on the tabletop, processing his thoughts.

'My next question,' he said evenly. 'Is why have you disguised yourselves as boys?'

'We knew it wouldn't be safe for us to remain dressed as women, your honor,' replied Ace. 'And we also needed a means of earnin' a living, as well…as well as an assurance that we wouldn't be found by our families.'

'Are you, and were you, aware that dressing in male clothing when you are a woman is prohibited by law in the state of New York?'

'…Yes, your honor.'

'So you admit to doing wrong in the eyes of the law?'

Ace clenched her teeth, before taking a breath.

'I admit, your honor, that we broke the law. But I refuse to accept that what we did was wrong.'

More angry whispers sounded from the back of the courtroom. Darlin' and Skates found themselves crying quiet tears without free hands to brush them away.

'Before I declare your sentence,' said Rubenstein. 'Is there anything further you would like to add?'

'Yes, your honor,' said Ace, verve edging into her voice. 'There is. I understand that our actions, running away from home and living under male identities, appear scandalous to the public and yourself.'

The judge stayed neutral, neither confirming not denying the truth of her statement.

'However,' she continued. 'What you need to understand is that we love our families. I speak for all of us when I say that hurting them has never been a desire for us. But in this past year, it became a last resort.

'Your honor, we implore you to understand that none of us want marriage, at least not yet. We felt increasingly trapped by the expectations of our parents and our communities, by futures none of us wish to have. No one listened to us, so we fled to places where we wouldn't have to explain ourselves any longer.

'An' your honor, I suppose what I'm saying is that, if my friends and I are prosecuted simply for not wanting what tradition dictates we should want, for wantin' to live differently and hope for better opportunities, then I ask you, what is the point of living in America, land of the free?'

Ace's speech left the courtroom soundless, save for her anxious breaths and Denton's pencil scribbling. Rubenstein remained thoughtfully silent for what felt like a long time, letting his eyes wander over the rest of the room. The girls waited in burning anxiety, until at long last he spoke up:

'Is there a representative of each of these young women's families present in the courtroom? Raise your hands if this is the case.'

Over a dozen hands, some gloved, some bare and thin, were lifted, accompanied by a handful of 'yes, your honor' mutterings. He nodded, satisfied.

'Good. If there are no objections, then I hereby pass over custody of these eight defendants to their respective families, effective immediately -'

'No…' whispered Ace, feeling sick.

'Your honor, I object.'

Everyone, including the girls, turned to face Denton, standing. He shuffled past Jack and Spot, who Ace noticed for the first time since the trial began. She and Jack shared a deep look from opposite ends of the courtroom, yearning to run into each other's arms.

'Who are you?' asked Rubenstein. Denton strode right up to the bailiff's desk. He flashed his press pass.

'Bryan Denton, reporter for the New York Sun.'

'And what is your objection, sir?'

'Your honor, with all due respect, to send these young women back to their families so hastily will present…complications. As Miss Heximer has explained herself very clearly, they have all chosen of their own free will not to live with them because of the unhappiness it brought.'

'Who does this man think he is?' muttered a woman in a high-buttoned navy dress and matching hat, pearls embedded in her earlobes. 'Telling us how our daughters should be living.'

The man next to her, who Jack assumed was her husband, shook his head gruffly.

'Be that as it may, Mr. Denton,' said Rubenstein. 'I cannot let these girls walk free without guardians, nor can I send them to The House of Refuge when they have family members willing to take them back into their care. They are too young in the eyes of the law for the outcome to be otherwise.'

'Are they?' said Denton sharply. Rubenstein paused in his second attempt to bring down the gavel. 'The age at which a citizen is considered to be an adult, responsible for their own choices and affairs…and lifestyles…is eighteen, is that correct?'

'That is correct, sir.'

'Well,' said Denton, looking anxiously at the girls' faces. 'How many of the defendants are aged eighteen?'

Jack and Spot gripped their seats with restless hands as the judge went through eight birth certificates, obtained in the early hours of the morning. After what seemed like an age, he stacked them back into order, laid them to one side, and folded his hands.

'Three of them are eighteen, Mr. Denton. Am I to presume you are suggesting those defendants who are of age be released without charge?'

'…I am, your honor,' replied Denton. Skates looked from Ace to the judge, before finding her voice as a matter of urgency:

'Your honor.'

'Yes, Miss…?'

'Starczewski, sir.' She ignored the dry tear tracks on her face and willed new ones not to pour down. 'I know which three of us are eighteen already, but Ace - uh, Genevieve - turns eighteen next week. I know she ain't technically at the age of adulthood yet -'

'No, she is not,' interrupted the judge. 'And as such, this revised sentence would not apply to her.'

'Wait, your honor,' said Denton, intuiting that Jack would yell bloody murder if he didn't at least try to negotiate. 'You're a reasonable man, a man whose profession rests on good judgment and common sense.'

Rubenstein waited for him to get to the point.

'What would be achieved by sending Miss Heximer back to her family for only a week, after which time she would most likely leave of her own accord again anyway?' said Denton, sweat breaking out on his brow. 'With the administrative tasks to account for as well, it is not in this court's interest to exclude Miss Heximer from the revised sentence if she is indeed on the verge of turning eighteen.'

'…Are you finished with your objections?'

'Yes, your honor,' breathed Denton.

'In which case, I will now, finally, declare that the defendants Arnstein, Bletchley, Heximer and Rabinovich be released without charge, under no formal guardianship. The others will be returned to the custody of their families. Court is adjourned.'

As soon as the gavel hit the desk, a hurricane of reactions broke loose in the courtroom. Four families leapt to their feet in joy, while the other four stood and voiced their outrage to Judge Rubenstein, who promptly ignored them and disappeared out of the back door. Denton weaved his way back to Jack and Spot, who were caught between the same polar emotions.

'Come on, let's get outside before things get out of hand.'

'But the goils -'

'Will be brought out shortly,' said Denton, ushering Jack towards the doors reassuringly.

The reporters outside almost wasted their flash bulbs on the three of them as they exited into the raw cold.

'Hey fellas!' Spot called to the rest of the newsies. 'Over here!'

David, Mush, Blink, Crutchy and Racetrack were the speediest, hurrying over to Jack, Spot and Denton. They, followed closely by the others, looked ready to explode with suspense.

'What happened?'

'Are they free?'

'What'd the judge say?'

'Tell us Jack!'

'Are they alright?'

'Pipe down!' shouted Spot. A feverish silence ensued. He let his shoulders relax. 'Now, before they bring 'em out -'

'Look!' exclaimed Dutchy. Everyone stared at the courthouse doors, now propped open, as four different cameras fired up at once.

Ace put both hands on either side of her face, concentrating solely on her feet in the snow. This was the last thing she needed.

Still staring at the ground, she rubbed her sore wrists and tried to move away from the reporters. To any and all questions she answered with a blunt, 'no comment.'

At last they moved onto new subjects behind her, and she looked up. There, a mere thirty feet away, were the boys - David, Racetrack, Blink, Mush, Crutchy, Boots, Skittery…and there was Jack.

She felt like a tightrope walker without a safety harness, putting one foot slowly in front of the other, never letting her eyes leave the horizon.

'Genevieve.'

Her real name, in a voice she'd almost forgotten, broke her path. With a sigh that hauled itself up from the depths of her heart, Ace looked over her shoulder, at her parents.

'Were you really about to leave us,' said her mother, strands of auburn hair caught in the wind. 'Without even letting us look at you after so long?'

They stood directly opposite one another. Jack now fully understood where Ace's hard stare came from. Mrs. Heximer held her plain shawl to her frame while her husband removed his hat.

'I never thought our own child could hurt us so badly,' she said, despondency etched into her voice. 'Who are you anymore? Where's the Genevieve we love so dearly?'

'Still here,' said Ace, wounded in spite of everything. 'But she had make some difficult decisions. And I am tired…I am tired, of havin' the same conversation with you and gettin' the same wall for an answer.'

'Genevieve,' said her father, neither sternly nor gently. 'The court verdict means that no one can force you to come home. But we're hoping for just that - please come back. After all, we love you.'

Ace felt her chest rise and fall like a bird exhausted from flying. In hushed, measured tones, she replied:

'No. You don't.'

'Genevieve…' winced her mother.

'You don't love me,' said Ace, shaking her head with a pain in her throat. 'You just love the idea of me. If I go back, we'll all be disappointed.'

With that, she picked up where she left off, back to the newsies.

'One more step,' said her mother coldly. 'And you'll never be welcome in our house again.'

Ace stopped again, but didn't turn back. She gazed at Jack and saw everything life had to offer. She uttered one expressionless word in response:

'Good.'

Jack ran forward when she did, and they crashed into each other like intersecting waves.

'Ace, Ace, Ace,' he repeated into her hair. 'I ain't never lettin' you go, never, ya hear? Oh God…'

Kissing her in public, with the press close by, was not even an issue. Ace felt a hand grasp her shoulder, and when she and Jack broke away, she all but jumped into David's arms.

'You're free,' he laughed, hugging his friend tightly. As she moved into side-hugs from Blink and Crutchy, Ace half-smiled sadly. David's face fell.

'Yeah,' she said. '...I am.'

'What?' said Blink, before a delicate hand patted his shoulder. When he saw Darlin' right in front of him, he came alive.

'Oh my god,' he gasped, arms reflexively embracing her. The smell of her perfume confirmed that this was in fact a real moment, making him tear up as much as her.

'Are you alright?' he said, holding her face in his bare, freezing hands.

'Yeah - no - yeah,' she decided, all over the place. Blink held her close again.

'Madison!' called Mush, heart racing when he saw her, free from cuffs, emerging from the crowd. She closed the gap between them as fast as possible, and he swept her off the frosted ground.

'Ace.'

'Oh, Rich,' said Ace, throwing herself on her friend. Only they could feel the exact storm of relief and sorrow that swirled in the air.

'I wanted to get outta there faster,' said Rich, blinking back tears at the sky. 'But my parents…urgh, it was horrible. I'm a disgrace to them.'

'Join the club,' said Ace, bitter as coffee grounds.

'Wait, wait,' said Race, getting more agitated. 'Whaddya mean you're free? Ace?'

The Riverside leader detached herself from her hug with Rich, looked into Race's eyes, and had no idea what she could possible say.

'They didn't…' she said, frustrated by the sudden dryness of her lips. 'Not all of us.'

The newsie blanched. In fact, her pronouncement made all the boys hush, putting two and two together. Racetrack glimpsed something over Rich's shoulder and took three uneasy steps forward.

'Streets?'

Bulbs kept flashing. Pencils kept scribbling. Questions kept intruding on the little space Streets had left to breathe as she was escorted from the courthouse, hair down and untidy, by two women. A third followed just behind. Streets's face was the picture of despair, and her face contorted in pain as the older woman on her left pinched her ear hard because she wasn't walking fast enough.

'Where's she goin'?' asked Race, eyes widening in fear. 'Ace, who are they, where are they takin' her?'

'That's her mother,' said Ace, walking slowly to his side. 'And two of her sisters. They're takin' her home.'

'But why?'

''Cause she's only fifteen,' said Ace in a cracked voice. 'An' accordin' to the judge, anyone under eighteen is incapable of makin' decisions for themselves like a human being.'

'What, I…what?' said Race, turning from her to Streets and back.

'They only let ya go if you're eighteen?' said Skittery, stupefied.

'I barely made it out,' said Ace, feeling an enormous wad of guilt lodge itself in her chest. 'I ain't even eighteen until next week, an' if Skates hadn't said anything…'

As soon as she said her name, Skates left the courthouse. Ace stared at a reality she didn't want to accept: her best friend, being walked by her mother and father in their direction, knowing they weren't going to stop for the newsies.

If anything, when the three of them reached Ace, Mrs. Starczewski (or, to the boys, Patrick's mother) turned inwards, shielding her daughter from the street rats with her body.

'Skates, you're the greatest friend anyone could ask for,' said Ace quickly. Skates just managed to crane her neck back as she was hurried away. All she had time for was a scared smile and nod to Ace, and a fleeting look at Crutchy, who held onto Jack's coat collar because, even with his crutch, his legs felt ready to buckle.

'They can't…' he mumbled, eyes lost and confused. 'Skates.'

Jack put a consoling arm around his good friend's shoulder, because he knew words wouldn't do the job.

'No,' said Dutchy, aghast. 'Not Frames too.'

Ace, Darlin', Madison and Rich watched as the blonde, bespectacled newsgirl evaded the crowds. She walked without being steered, although her father's hand did rest on her shoulder. His smile was stiff, but sincere.

Her mother, a darker blonde in simple, modest dress, accidentally made eye contact with the newsies, but instead of throwing them a look of scorn, her blue eyes were clouded with something approximating pity.

Vi was the last one out. Her parents, well dressed and keen to avoid publicity, moved briskly in the newsies' direction. Before they could stop her, she ran ahead and threw her arms around as many of her friends as possible: Madison, Darlin', Ace, Race, Swifty, Crutchy, Skittery.

'Don't forget me,' she said, pained.

'Never,' said Madison quickly, as Vi's parents caught up and led her away. Vi's hand was pulled prematurely from Skittery's, but she heard Madison's last words to her:

'We'll wait for you.'

A/N: Oh my word…emotions everywhere. Also, this chapter is 4000 words long, I'm not even sure how I'm still conscious 0_0 I hope you'll all leave some reviews for me, it would make my day ^_^