A good morning to you all! College finally started and my classes this semester will be fantastic. And, I'm not the type of person who is going to let this story randomly stop because I got busy with classes and clubs and such. I already have a good portion of it written and will continue to update. So, read on, my little ostriches!


"It's Saturday!"

Crutchie groaned, rolling over onto his side, away from the door. If JT would just stop shouting—

"Crutch! Get up! I'm gonna teach you how to ride a horse today," JT said, shaking Crutchie's shoulder. "And, boy, for a newsie, you sure don't get up early."

"Just one more hour," Crutchie groaned, his hand pressed against his forehead. Maybe if he kept pressure on the front of his skull it would somehow manage to stop trying to implode.

"Nuh-uh." JT shook his head. "You're going to miss breakfast. Jack's already up. Come on," JT said, tugging at Crutchie's arm.

Crutchie took a deep breath, before sitting up. His vision swam, but he remained sitting up, fighting back the nausea that pushed bile up his throat. Swallowing heavily, Crutchie stood up. He had to blink away the darkness that blocked his vision for a few frightening seconds, but as it passed, he felt the vertigo dissipating. "Just because Jack is up doesn't mean I need to be," Crutchie grumbled.

"Okay, fine. Fair point. But, what about breakfast? Aren't you hungry?"

"Not really," Crutchie said, shaking his head. "I'm probably still full from dinner last night," Crutchie explained, the lie slipping from his tongue effortlessly. His stomach rolled uncomfortably at even the very thought of food and Crutchie doubted he'd be able to get anything down.

JT studied Crutchie silently and for a moment, Crutchie wasn't sure that JT would believe him, would doubt the grin that Crutchie held. "I'm glad you were able to eat last night," JT muttered. "Gabriel's stench sorta messed up my appetite."

Crutchie grinned. "Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure I saw you grabbing thirds."

"Okay, maybe I was able to eat last night, but it's just because that's one of the best dishes ma makes."

"What's it called?" Crutchie asked. "I've never had it before."

JT shrugged. "We call them Funeral Potatoes, but I'm sure it's got a better name than that. I've never even eaten them at a funeral. But, that's probably because I haven't been to a funeral. Have you?"

The question caught Crutchie completely off guard. "No," he said, but this lie was heavier, more unwieldy than the ones he usually stuck to. And it was breaking the rule of lies: it wasn't protecting or helping JT. It was just… just a lie.

But, he couldn't tell the truth. Not when memories were flashing behind his eyes of a time when he was too young to understand death, but not young enough to forget the pain. He recalled a casket and a body too still and white. He recalled a cold hand that gripped his, pulling him away from the only one who cared about him. He recalled grief that consumed him to the point he didn't want to get out of bed because the house just seemed so empty and lifeless. And then, when life had seemed unfair enough, the polio had struck and he was suddenly useless and just wished that the polio had taken him wholly and completely and not just taken his leg. He recalled how he had been kicked to the streets like yesterday's trash, unwanted and immediately forgotten about.

No, Crutchie could not tell a truth as harsh as that.

"I didn't think so," JT prattled on, oblivious to the way Crutchie had quieted or how the crippled boy was focused more on the wood flooring than JT. "I don't really want to go to one," JT continued, "but, I mean, I have to go to one some time. Just to say I've been."

"Yeah…" Crutchie whispered. He felt as if his chest was going to collapse in on itself. His breath kept catching and Crutchie was worried if he kept thinking, he would hyperventilate, or something equally embarrassing. "Just to say you've been…"

"Anyway, you may not want breakfast, but I do. Come on. Maybe if you smell whatever ma made, you'll be hungry too." JT paused. "Hey. Are you doing okay?"

Crutchie's eyes whipped up, making contact with JT. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

JT was squinting at Crutchie. At his chest, to be exact, Crutchie realized. "Your skin is looking weird."

"Weird how?" Crutchie asked, suddenly needing to scratch at his chest and lower neck.

"It's red."

"A sunburn, maybe?" Crutchie suggested.

"Maybe," JT said, but he didn't sound so sure.

Crutchie scratched his lower neck thoughtfully. "It doesn't hurt. It's probably just a sunburn." Crutchie pulled on a shirt, buttoning it up and covering the reddened skin. "See? Just like new."

JT stared at him skeptically. "Maybe ma should take a look at it."

"I don't want to worry her. Aren't you hungry? Let's go grab breakfast. Or, you grab breakfast. I'll have some orange juice or something."

With a nod, JT left the room, Crutchie following behind just as fast as he could go. The initial motion of moving left him gasping for breath against vertigo, but once it passed, Crutchie was fine again. He ground his teeth and made his way forward, refusing to let whatever stupid things his body was doing hold him back. His leg had never held him down for long and Crutchie wasn't about to let the headache that pounded relentlessly at his forehead have any power over him.

Jack wasn't in the dining room, much to Crutchie's surprise. He had been expecting the older boy to confront him immediately about his admission from the night before about the possibility that he was getting sick. But Jack wasn't there. Or Syd and Claude. Crutchie would have assumed that they were out on the ranch, except for the fact that Jessie was sitting at the table, stone-faced, buttering her roll.

"Hey, Jess! Where's pa and Syd and Jack?" JT asked, voicing Crutchie's thoughts.

Jessie glanced up at JT and Crutchie, her eyes quickly settling on the way that Crutchie was leaning on his crutch heavier than usual. "They took the wagon into town to get new bed frames and mattresses," she explained.

"Oh, cool," JT said, sitting down at the table and grabbing at the steaming pot of oatmeal.

Crutchie sat beside him, but only settled for pouring a small glass of milk; he was slightly disappointed that there was no fresh juice on the table. Jessie noticed Crutchie's lack of food and demanded, "Hey, aren't you going to eat?"

"I'm not that hungry," Crutchie said, shrugging. "Still full from last night."

"You should eat something. Don't waste food," Jessie told him.

"Leave him alone," JT said between bites. "If he isn't hungry, then he doesn't have to eat." With a grin, JT added, "It gives me an excellent excuse to eat more: I'll take care of Crutchie's share."

"When are they coming back?" Crutchie asked, before taking a sip of the milk. He could feel the cold liquid make its way down his throat before splashing into his stomach, its sudden impact causing his stomach to clench uncomfortably.

Jessie shrugged, adding jam to the roll. "Eventually, I suppose."

"Oh, that's helpful," JT muttered sarcastically.

The rest of the meal passed in a similar manner, with JT attempting a conversation and Jessie shutting him down, generally with a sarcastic barb. Crutchie would have talked with JT, but he was too focused on looking normal. JT was right about it not being a sunburn; Crutchie's skin felt like it was too tight and uncomfortable and he really just wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep for another lifetime or so. However, as soon as Claude returned with Syd and Jack, Crutchie was ushered outdoors to ride a horse.


Crutchie followed Jack and JT out into the yard, where Claude stood with a dark brown horse, rein in hands. The horse had a black nose and black socks, Crutchie noticed, which he attributed to the naming of the creature. "Her name is Blackie," JT was explaining, "and she's super nice. And slow. Everyone learns on her."

"Yeah, she won't throw you or nothin'," Jack agreed. He, after spending the first two days on Blackie, had been allowed to use a different brown horse by the name of Chocolate. She was Sue's horse, but since Sue wasn't out on the ranch as often, Jack rode her the most. "Maybe once you learn to ride Blackie, you can share Chocolate with me and Sue."

"Or with me!" JT said excitedly. "Once I turn sixteen, I get a horse of my own and we can share him."

"That's not for a couple of months," Syd pointed out. "And I'm pretty sure Crutchie will be out riding on his own far before then."

"It doesn't mean I can't share when I have my own horse," JT muttered petulantly.

Jessie walked past her younger brother, nudging him with her shoulder. "Who's to say you even get a horse? Pa only gets horses for responsible kids."

"I'm responsible!" JT cried out, yanking his head away when Jessie ruffled his red hair.

"Whatever you say, kid."

Crutchie stared at the horse he would be riding shortly, swallowing nervously. Blackie stared right back at him, her tail flicking at the flies that buzzed around her. He felt as if his face was burning, his nerves wreaking havoc on his stomach and causing his entire skin to tingle strangely. "Maybe I shouldn't ride today," Crutchie said, the words nearly getting stuck in his extra dry mouth.

"It's not that bad," Jack reassured Crutchie. "You'll be just fine. You ready?"

That's not what I'm worried about! Crutchie wanted to scream, but he remained silent. He felt like crap and for some reason Jack didn't seem to remember that Crutchie had said he was getting sick and now no one would notice the way he felt as if vomit was slowly, steadily creeping up his esophagus and how he felt as if his entire body was too tight and too hot all at once.

Crutchie was suddenly aware of Jessie's eyes on him, but she didn't say anything. He didn't know if she could see the slight tremors that ran up and down his bad leg or the sweat that dotted his temples or the way his tongue was starting to feel too large and almost intrusive in his mouth.

"Ready," Crutchie agreed when he remembered that Jack had asked him a question.

Claude helped boost Crutchie onto the horse, after Crutchie gave his crutch to JT for safekeeping. Claude showed him how to hold the reins and how to position his knees. "I'm going to have her trot around the corral a bit, so you can get used to riding, then you can try it at a gallop."

Crutchie nodded, his head swimming. He was up so high. If he fell, he'd probably break his neck. Well, no. Probably not. Crutchie glanced down judging the distance, wondering if it were possible to break a leg from falling off a horse. Because wouldn't that just be his luck—messing up his one good leg out here in Santa Fe.

Claude clicked his tongue and Blackie started trotting in a circle, following the fence. "Look at you, Crutch! Like a real-life cowboy!" Jack shouted and Crutchie couldn't help but grin. It wasn't so bad. Sure, the horse was jostling him a bit more than he quite appreciated, but it was kind of fun riding a horse. Maybe Jack was right. Maybe no one would even notice his bad leg if he was astride a horse all the time.

"You ready to really ride a horse?" Syd called out.

Crutchie nodded because the exhilaration of riding had completely banished all the fear and pain that had encompassed him before. He could do this. He could really do this. And Crutchie knew that if he was able to ride a horse, then he could make his way out here in Santa Fe. Perhaps he had a place here just as much as Jack did. Crutchie realized with a smile that maybe he had found somewhere where he could belong.

Jack was atop Chocolate and he came over to where Crutchie was guiding Blackie in a circle around the corral. Claude was behind, seated on his horse, Storm. "Okay," Claude said, "I'm going to whistle Blackie to get her to run."

"Just hold on to the reins and move with the horse. It'll be weird when you start out, but as you get used to it, it becomes really fun," Jack advised. He paused, grinning, before asking, "You ready, Crutch?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm ready," Crutchie said, his words from months early coming back to him. Feature me, riding in style. Now he'd truly get to ride in style. Sure, Blackie wasn't a palomino, but he had to start somewhere.

Claude put his fingers to his lips and let forth an ear-piercing whistle and the horse broke into a gallop out of the corral and into the large field that surrounded the Holloway house. The horse jerked into movement, her legs pounding loudly against the hard-packed earth. Crutchie was nearly thrown from the horse with the initial movement, but he clung to the reins, his knuckles turning white from the effort. This movement was entirely different from the slow trot against the corral and Crutchie was bounced up and down, unable to maintain his seat. His leg was protesting the violent motion and felt as if flames were licking up and down the limb, burning red-hot. The headache that had been forgotten in the earlier elation came back full force, pounding Crutchie's head just as relentlessly as Blackie's hooves attacked the ground. The only thing Crutchie was conscious of was the pain and the fear of falling off Blackie; all other thoughts banished as the more visceral emotions took the forefront. He felt as if he were spinning—but no, that was his head—or that he were floating—but that didn't make any sense either because he could feel the horse beneath him, surging forward—and Crutchie's vision began to swim until he couldn't focus on anything but the horse's coarse hair in front of him. It bounced with the movement, some strands reaching as far as to tickle Crutchie's nose and wait, that didn't make any sense because he was sitting up and the hair wasn't long enough to reach that high up. But, no, somehow Crutchie had slid forward and his head was only inches above Blackie's—and wasn't Blackie such a strange name for a horse that was almost completely brown—neck. The scent of horse was exceptionally strong, now that Crutchie was mere inches from the beast and he felt as if he was going to gag, but hadn't he been feeling sick all day so was it really Blackie's fault? Crutchie thought he heard Jack shout his name, but that wasn't possible because all he could hear was the blood rushing in his ears and, strangely enough, he couldn't hear the horse's hooves against the ground or his panting breath as he struggled to keep upright. Blackie was still surging forward, her strong legs propelling them quickly forward, and Crutchie felt himself slipping to the left, but he couldn't manage to get his hands to hold the reins—when had they even slipped from his fingers—and he couldn't keep his balance, not when his head felt as if it was being hammered upon with a crowbar. His heart jerking, Crutchie realized that he was falling from the horse and then pain morphed into black and Crutchie knew no more.


Jack grinned as he watched Blackie gallop across the field with Crutchie on her back. He hoped Crutchie felt as free as he did with the air rushing through his hair. Jack quickly urged Chocolate on after his best friend, relishing the fact that they were in Santa Fe, that they were riding horses together like he had always dreamed it would be. Claude was a little ways behind him, but Jack didn't feel like slowing down to allow the older man to catch up.

As Jack watched Crutchie ride, he realized something wasn't right. Crutchie was being jostled around and wasn't moving with the horse like Jack had told him to. Instead, it looked as if the boy was barely maintaining his position in the saddle. Well, it would take a while for him to get used to the motion. Jack recalled that he had been uncomfortable when Blackie first galloped with him, but eventually he did get better and then he had been fine ever since.

But, Crutchie wasn't getting better. In fact, Jack noticed, the boy seemed to be slipping forward, his head nearly touching the back of Blackie's neck. This wasn't right. Something was definitely wrong. With a flick of the reins, Jack urged Chocolate into a faster gallop, hoping to catch up to his younger friend. "Crutchie!" he called out, but Crutchie didn't respond. Which only increased Jack's worry.

Jack was just gaining on Blackie when it happened. It seemed as if Crutchie was moving in slow motion, just tipping ever so slightly and then before Jack could shout his friend's name again, the boy had fallen to the ground, landing in a motionless heap. Blackie bounded forward a few steps, before coming to a stop and beginning to nibble at the grass nonchalantly. Crutchie still wasn't moving, face downward, so Jack couldn't even ascertain if the boy was breathing—as awful as that thought was.

When he was close enough, Jack leaped from Chocolate's back, bending down over his friend's prostrate form. "Crutchie! Hey, Crutch, answer me. You okay, Crutchie?" There was no response. Jack looked up from his friend, planning to call for help, but any cries died on his tongue as he realized his sudden leap to Crutchie had frightened Chocolate and the horse had reared back up onto its hind legs. With a start, Jack realized that Chocolate would crush either him or Crutchie and Jack quickly bent protectively over Crutchie's motionless form, praying that Chocolate would miss him or that he would, at worse, only break a bone. Jack knew that Chocolate's hoof could, quite easily, dash his brains out and he couldn't die, not when he had just got out here, not when he and Crutchie had finally found their place.

The blow never came. Jack glanced up curiously, realizing that somehow Claude had reached them in time and jerked Chocolate backward, away from the two boys. "You okay?" he asked. He had dismounted and held the reins of both Storm and Chocolate, but when Syd arrived—he must have started riding shortly after Jack and Claude had started out—handed the reins to his son.

"Crutchie," Jack muttered, turning back to his friend. He was fine; why didn't Claude see that Crutchie was the one who had fallen from the horse. It was Crutchie that might not be okay. Jack gently turned his friend over, immediately noting Crutchie's left wrist, which was bent backwards, clearly broken.

Claude gently put his hands on Jack's shoulders. "I need you to move so I can help him," Claude said softly, guiding Jack away from Crutchie. When Jack shook his head, Claude insisted, "He's going to be okay, but I need to help him and I can't do that if you're in the way." Jack backed away numbly, allowing Claude to bend over Crutchie. The boy, Claude discovered, was feverish, his face a bright red and his heart beat quickened. "Syd," Claude said firmly, "Go get Dr. Cavanaugh."

Syd nodded, before remounting Cunegonde and riding around the house to where the road would take him to the Cavanaugh homestead.

"Jack, I've got to take Crutchie to the house. Go grab Blackie and take her and Chocolate into the stables. Make sure you brush them down, okay? Crutchie will be fine, but I won't allow you to see him until both Blackie and Chocolate are in their stalls cleaned up."

Jack tore his gaze from Crutchie's motionless face—he looked dead, he looked dead, but he couldn't be dead, not dead, not if they were getting a doctor…right?—and nodded stiffly. "Okay," he said, relenting because he knew that arguing with Claude would be fruitless.

"He's going to be okay," Claude repeated as he mounted Storm, Crutchie in his arms. With that, Claude took off, one hand on the reins, the other cradled against Crutchie's chest to keep him from falling off again.

After watching Claude ride away with his best friend, Jack turned to Chocolate, gently grabbing her reins. Blackie walked up to him, nickering softly. Jack liked to think that she was apologizing for dropping Crutchie. Not that that changed anything. "Come on," Jack said, grabbing Blackie's reins and remounting Chocolate. "Let's get back before anyone else gets hurt."

He led both horses into the stables, planning on quickly brushing the animals down and then heading inside to find out what was going on with Crutchie. "What are you doing in here?" Jack asked quietly, noting that Jessie was at the far end of the stables.

Jessie glanced up at Jack before turning back to Storm. "I'll give you three guesses." She rolled her eyes, before continuing. "Pa was taking Crutchie inside, so I was put in charge of Storm." Jessie hesitated, before asking, "Is he… Do you think he'll be okay?"

"He better be."


Okay, I've got a story for ya'll. So, last week I watched the Newsies movie for the first time (I am so sorry I hadn't gotten to it before) with my family. I have a baby sister who is four, so while Jack is singing "The World Will Know" she understood the concept of answering his questions. So, Jack calls out, "Are we nothing?!" and my little sister shouts back, "YES!" To which, my entire family started laughing. So, for the rest of the song, we decided to show her what to do and we were all shouting the correct answers to the questions along with the newsies and gosh, it was just so much fun.

Anyway, story time over. Reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome! Ostrich out!