Only Time Will Tell

Chapter Nine: What About Now? Part II

Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies. I own my characters and the plot.

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It had been two months since Dawson left, and things had not improved for Brooklyn.

Presently she walked around the plantation aimlessly, staring down the long hallways, pausing at windows for minutes upon minutes. Just stared. Her face was stone, no emotion reached through. If you looked in her eyes, all you would see is a slate of green. No real color, no depth, no emotion. A slate, a wall of green.

She was a ghostly pale, as of late. So pale, that her uncle said the moon would fall in jealousy if it ever saw her skin. Her freckles had faded, and her skin looked clear, nearly transparent. Tear stains were a permanent facial feature, and if she had to make a public appearance, had to be covered with heaps of makeup. But even then, others noticed. Obviously, she was not herself.

After Dawson left, she retreated into her room and stayed there for roughly a week. She had no will or need to do anything else. She felt bad for her poor dogs. They would play in her room, but it wasn't the same as going out in the fields or being near the horses. Theodore even had to get someone to ride Eclipse every day, for Brooklyn would not take a step toward the stable. It was as if she had shut down, with good reason.

It was the middle of the following week of Dawson's departure when Annie had fell sick. She had been complaining of an occasional stomach ache or headache, but she didn't take it seriously, so neither did Theodore or Brooklyn. She began coughing harshly and walking up a flight of stairs or down the hall was a chore for her. Theodore ordered her to bed rest, but the sickness only progressed and she began vomiting at least five times a day. Theodore called the doctor, who gave Annie some medicine and said that she would return to normal in a few days.

Annie's health did not improve, and she died a week a later.

Brooklyn became distraught, and remained in her bedroom, not coming out except for bathroom needs. Annie had become a friend, a very close friend, and she had died. Brooklyn was beginning to question the motives of God.

But over the month of May, she had mourned the loss of her friend and began to return to her normal routines. She would be out and about, never without Bear and Rose. And she never stepped foot near the stable. Did she feel bad that she was neglecting Eclipse? Yes, very. But she just couldn't bring herself to be around, none-the-less mount an animal that feeds off your emotions when she was a wreck,

And then it happened.

The week previous to the present, a knock had come to the front door. Being the closest to it, Brooklyn answered it. She saw a small, ginger-colored figure and blood. Lots of blood. She remembered screaming and hitting the floor.

When Brooklyn awoke, her uncle tried to calmly explain to her what had happened. Somehow, Rose had gotten out and must have followed a scent or an animal into the woods and somehow got lost. Some fox hunters -who were illegally on the Rutger property- had seen her. Thinking that she was a fox, they took aim and fired. When they discovered that she was a dog with a collar and a tag bearing the Pulitzer name, they found the plantation and brought her back.

"Where would you like to bury her?" was the first thing Theodore had asked her.

They wound up burying her in a flower garden near the stable. Rose loved this garden, and would often go to lay in the cool, moist earth with the budding flowers. Rose was buried under her favorite patch of sunflowers.

After it had been done, Brooklyn retreated to the house and didn't come out.

For a month and a half now, she wore black. First for Annie, and now for her little Rose. She would slip in and out of shadows, pausing occasionally and briefly to stare out the windows. She wanted to see the outside world, but did not want the outside world to see her.

And it hadn't stopped with the death of a dear friend and the murder of her little dog. Just two days earlier, Brooklyn had received a letter from her mother. Mary-Ann was sending for her. She requested: "…my dear daughter, that you return home on June the twenty-fifth."

The twenty-fifth was four days away. In four days, Brooklyn would return to New York City. She would return to Brooklyn, she would return to her cage. She would return without a word from Dawson, or any time to warn him.

She understood why Dawson hadn't been able to write. When the newsies had free time, it wasn't used to write letters or sit around. It was time to eat or sharpen fighting skills or discuss new ways of making money. And now that there was a war raging on the streets, they probably had even less time on their hands. But still, she had hoped for some word.

"Theodore, you have no idea what you are doing!" the sharp, threatening voice broke Brooklyn's silent thought, causing her to startle and give a small yelp. She followed the sound with her eyes. At the end of the hall, in the foyer standing by the door, was her uncle and Walter Smith. Both men stood rigid, their eyes locked on one another. Brooklyn quickly moved Bear against the wall and hid herself behind a protrusion in the wall.

"Oh believe me Walter, I do," Theodore snapped in reply.

"There will be consequences for this, Theodore," Walter replied.

"How dare you threaten me in my own home!" Theodore yelled, surprising Brooklyn. Usually her uncle was an even-tempered, patient man. But Walter had obviously wound him the wrong way, and Brooklyn didn't know what to think of it.

"Take it as a warning," Walter snarled in reply. "You have until ten o'clock tomorrow morning, or things will happen." Brooklyn covered her mouth to silence a gasp. What 'things' was he talking about? Why is he threatening Uncle Theodore? she wondered to herself.

"Get out," Theodore growled.

"Ten o' clock tomorrow," Walter reminded nastily.

"Don't hold your breath," Theodore replied, the same edge of nastiness edging his tone.

"You're making a big mistake!" Walter called as he walked out the door.

The door slammed shut, and Brooklyn quickly snuck back down the hallway and back up to her room. Her mind was spinning. She had known that there was something wrong with Walter, but she never knew that he was dangerous. Why was he threatening Theodore? Were the threats serious or minor? What did he mean by "You're making a big mistake" and "things will happen"?

A knock came to the door and Brooklyn silently made her way over to her bed, put the covers over her legs and had Bear hop up onto the bed. She took The Wizard of Oz off her bedside table and opened to a random page. The knocks at the door came again, and Brooklyn put on the calmest town she could muster.

"Yes?"

"It's Uncle Theodore, may I come in?"

"Oh yes, Uncle," she replied. "Come in, come in!"

Theodore opened the door and looked to find Brooklyn. When he met her eyes, he got this look on his face that he usually did. To Brooklyn, it looked like he wanted to say something, but knew that he shouldn't. It reminded her of a helpless animal, not sure of what to do for a wounded member of the family. Brooklyn wished that she didn't have to see this face on her uncle, but in her state of mind, she could do nothing about it.

"Hello dear, how are you feeling?" he asked her, walking over and sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Tired," Brooklyn replied truthfully. "Drained." Theodore nodded and distracted himself from having to answer by scratching Bear behind the ears.

"Is there a reason that you're here, Uncle?" Brooklyn asked after two minutes of silence between them. A grim, serious expression fell over her uncle's face, and he looked to her and nodded. There was a look of panic, of fear in his eyes. This frightened Brooklyn, and sent her pulse off.

There were a few more moments of silence before Theodore spoke up. During those few moments, he looked as if he was trying to gather and arrange his thoughts, as if he didn't know how to phrase or present them. And when he finally did speak, he questioned her.

"Have you ever heard of the Ku Klux Klan, Brooklyn?" he asked her. Brooklyn's eyebrows raised, but she nodded, ignoring her surprise at the question. "Do you know what they are?"

"An organization of white men against Negros, right?" Brooklyn replied a bit uncertainly. She had heard of them, but not much.

"Yes, in simple terms, dear," Theodore replied with a nod of his head. "Tell me, did you hear yelling before?"

"Yes, I was wondering what that was," Brooklyn said, only lying a little bit.

"Well, I'm going to tell you this straight, Brooklyn," Theodore said. "I made a bad decision in their eyes, and now I've got them on my back, and I don't know what's going to happen."

"What do you mean?" Brooklyn asked, cocking her head to the side like a confused puppy.

"I mean that we're in danger," he replied. "And that if anything was to happen to you on my account, I wouldn't know what I would do…"

"Uncle, I don't understand, why am I in danger?"

"Because I am in danger, and whatever they threaten me with, they won't be left dry." Theodore rubbed the back of his neck and looked out to the balcony briefly before turning back to his niece.

"There is something you need to promise me, Brooklyn," he said.

"Anything, Uncle," she replied.

"You need to promise me that if anything happens that is a threat to your life, you will leave," he said. "I know you are to leave in four days, but there is a very realistic probability that something will happen before then. You need to promise me that if anything is to happen, you will run to the train station and take the first train to New York, do you understand me?"

"What about the police?" Brooklyn asked. "Why don't you tell them?"

"Some things down here can't be left to the police," he replied. "There will always be a horse ready for you to ride into town. If anything happens, I want you to grab your dog and run down to the stable. There will always be a saddlebag with money, a change of clothes and food in the saddle bag, just in case. You have to promise me that you will leave me here to deal with things, and I will catch up with you. Do you promise?"

"Uncle, I-"

"Do you promise?" he asked, his voice straining.

"I promise."

"Good, I will set up the preparations tonight, and from now until Friday when you leave, you have to be ready for anything."

"Uncle, I'm frightened," Brooklyn told him truthfully. She could feel hot tears of fear burning her eyes. She was always crying nowadays, but this was different.

Theodore turned before he left the room. Just before he closed the door behind him, he looked her straight in the eye, holding it for a few moments.

"You should be," he whispered.

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Author's Note:

What a cliffy, huh? I'm sorry that I gave you two short chapters in a row, the next chapter will be longer, I promise.

The title of the chapter is Daughtry's "What About Now", and this chapter was inspired by the last four verses of this song, which is highly recommended to all of you.

Thank you to

ilovenewsies, Corrupt Me, elleestJenn, EmeraldGreyClouds, Kathryn Mason-Sykes, Seren McGowan, and IrishStorm

for your fabulous reviews of Chapter Eight.