"Get over here and play a hand, Abbey. My shirt could use a pretty big patch on the shoulder!"
I looked over at Blink. He was about to pass from tipsy to drunk. "I'll whoop you in cards and still patch your shirt," I told him. "You just have to tell me where you ripped it first."
The room went quiet and Kid Blink set his cup down. I waited. Jack leaned forward on his chair, propping his elbows on his knees. He looked straight at me, "We all have bad balance, Abigail. Nothing to be done about that." I stood picking up my lamp and mending. Jack could tell me to mind my own business but I would mind it somewhere else. I considered dumping their half mended clothes on the floor but Kloppman's letter flashed before my eyes.
"I can't fix that shirt if it's on your back," I told Blink and left, retreating once again to the roof.
I set the lamp on a crate and folded myself beside it. Some part of me wanted all the boys' mending done before I left, a need to leave them with something good. I wanted to wonder what they would do without me but I knew that they had survived before I had come. My head thumped back against the crate and I closed my eyes only to open them again as the door to the building creaked open. Footsteps moved across the roof and Blink's shirt dropped into my lap.
"That's two times you've stormed out of a room today, Abbey." Racetrack settled onto the upturned washing bin. "What's wrong?"
"I want to know what is going on. Knowing isn't going to hurt me. It could help me. You tell Kloppman."
There was a pause, "Understood. I will tell you but first you have to tell me what is wrong."
"Nothing is-" He cut me off.
"If it was just not getting information from us, you would have let us know or got it out of one of the younger boys. This is something else."
I stood tossing Blink's shirt into the pile of clothes next to me. My heels clicked against the rooftop as I moved past Racetrack to look down at the street. It was still busy with people headed home for a late dinner. "Uncle Kloppman is being replaced as caretaker of the lodging house. His services are no longer required. The World has thanked him for his service and dismissed him." I sat leaning my head against the brick wall the edged the roof, listening to the sound of voices below and the silence up on the roof.
"When?" Racetrack finally asked. "Where will the two of you go?"
"The 17th. Uncle is going home. Mother will pick him up from the train stop nearest the farm."
"It will be good for you-" He stopped. "And where are you going?"
I sighed, knowing I would have had to answer this sooner or later. "I am going to rent the room over Chancey's Bookshop. Maybe get a second job. Tibby's or Mr. Murphy could use some help in the grocery. I'll find something."
When Race didn't say anything I looked up at him. He was staring out over the roofs. "You're thinking I am making a bad decision," he still didn't respond. "It's time I make my own way. There is nothing for me back home. All of my friends are running their own households."
"I don't agree with it but it's your decision." His eyes were still trying to find deep meaning in the rooftops across the street.
"I'm sorry," I wasn't sure why I said it. "I'm not ready for the life that would be made for me back home. Maybe I will get over it and go back but not yet."
"Abbey," he was looking at me this time. "We'll help you. The newsies. We'll support you."
I chuckled slightly more wetly than I wanted to. I needed someone's approval in this. "I will be fine. The newsies have enough on their plates without babysitting me." I took a deep breath. "Now it is your turn. Tell me what is going on."
He turned away again. "We're striking. I would bet that Davey is the only one that knows what is really going on. We want all of New York to go on strike with us but they are holding back. They want to know if we will stick it out. Spot Conlon wants to know.
"There was a bit of a scuffle in the distribution center today when the afternoon papes went out. Scabbers don't see eye to eye with us. We changed their minds."
"There should be other ways to change their minds. Ones that don't leave marks." I couldn't see his bruised face in the shadows.
"That's what Davey says," his fists clenched.
"Crutchy?"
"Oscar and Morris got him. Turned him over to the bulls."
"They what?" I sat bolt upright.
"The police were coming so we beat it. Crutchy must not have heard. The Delancy's caught him on his way out." He was sitting perfectly still.
"Where is he?" I whispered. "When is he coming back?"
"The Refuge." At my questioning look he added, "Supposed to cure us kids who are criminals. Jack went to see how he was faring tonight, right before I came up here."
"Promise me something?" When he nodded I went on, "That you'll all at least give a passing thought to staying safe. Kloppman's going to need you all. Please?"
He nodded. "Get to bed, Abbey. Tomorrow's another day and at the rate you are cleaning, you need your rest."