CHAPTER TEN

I turned around 3 times and wound up at your door
Now you say you know all you did not know before
And I offer no sympathy for that
I hear that it was you who died alone
And I offer no sympathy for that
Better off I sparkle on my own
And someday love will find me in the rough
Someday love will finally be enough

~ "In the Rough" by Anna Nalick

We got to Manhattan and the newsies were all waiting in the Square for the trio when we got back. I think they were all happy to see me, and surprised. Wasn't I supposed to be gone longer, they asked. I got lots of hugs, but Race sort of beat down the happiness by asking where Spot was. I now knew that whatever Jack did, Spot usually jumped in right away. They were friends, and friends stuck together. But not this time. I wondered why that was.

Jack explained Spot's concern, and the boys all readily clamored in to say that maybe they shouldn't go through with this. Without the support of Brooklyn, none of the other boroughs would join us. It would just be us, and we wouldn't win that way.

"Spot was right, is this just a game to you guys?" Jack asked, frowning at the lack of support.

"Just because we ain't got Brooklyn, does that mean we gotta scrap this whole thing? I mean. With or without him, you guys started this thing. We gotta show Brooklyn that we're serious! It's the only way," I put in, hoping to perk up Jack's spirit a little.

"How we gonna do that, Angel? Without Spot, we ain't got no chance," Race said, smoking his cigar.

"Nobody else'll join if we ain't got Brooklyn," Skittery added, frowning as always.

"Carpe diem," I said simply.

"What?" every Manhattan newsie stared at me like I'd gone off the deep end. But one newsie knew what I had said. And I was so happy, I nearly hugged him.

"It means 'seize the day'," Dave explained to them.

"Well, what the hell's that mean?" Race asked.

"It means, you've gotta attack the day!" Dave explained. "It means to enjoy the day you've got. And for us, it means fight until we can't anymore!"

The boys nodded their understanding. I looked over at Jack and I could see the wheels turning in his head violently.

"That's right, you guys!" he shouted, ever the leader. "With or without Spot, we started this strike and we're going to see it through! We're gonna show Spot that we're serious so that he'll hafta join us! And the others will join, too! We can't give up now! We got a strike to win!"

The boys cheered their response and I was glad. We didn't need Spot! Well, okay, I didn't need Spot.

"So, are we gonna seize the day or what?" Jack shouted and then newsies cheered once more, but fell silent at the sound of the circulation bell. "Anybody heah dat?"

"NO!" was the resounding answer.

"So what we gonna do about it?" Jack asked.

"SOAK 'EM!"

And so began the mass exodus of empowered newsies towards the Distribution Center to fight for their rights and, well, soak people. I shuffled after them, delighted to be a part of this.

The Manhattaners surrounded the scabs. Most of us were in the landing around the Distribution Center, but some came around the back, boxing the scabs in. Right from the beginning, three young newsboys dropped their papes and came peaceably into our midst, earning pats on the backs for their efforts.

The next guy didn't look too intent on joining. He stared at Jack and then tried to push through, but the boys pushed back. The he tried going around, but they pushed him back again. He turned to face Jack again. Dave tried to be the voice of reason, but to no avail. Jack smacked the guy's papers down to the ground, and it was on.

I used the techniques I'd learned from Silver to fight, but it didn't take long. The scabs ran like cowards and we then proceeded to trash the place. I even helped rip up newspapers, dancing around with the younger boys like it was some kind of surprise birthday party. We had won! In my head, I gave the newsies a tick mark. So the score was one to zero, in our favor.

The victory was short lived, because at the sound of "Cheese it! It's the bulls!" we all ran like hell. I shuffled out the younger boys, not wanting them to get caught up with the police. We reached the Lodging House and, after we all caught our breath, we started laughing like maniacs. The younger boys were jazzed about having gotten to fight, and the other boys were just happy they made it out without getting caught.

"Wait a second," Jack said, when everybody had started to calm down. His eyes scanned our faces. "Where's Crutchy?"

My eyes darted around the group of boys, but he was right. No Crutchy. Ice coursed through my veins. Penny, a young boy around nine and Jack's only 'birdie', came running in, panting like crazy. One of the boys gave him some water and he looked up at Jack.

"They got 'im, Jack," Penny said, slightly out of breath. "The Delancy's. I saw 'em take Crutchy away. He didn't even have a chance."

I frowned, horrified, and then screamed. Loudly. I tore my hat off and threw it on the ground, swearing so violently that a sailor would blush, most of it in Gaelic. I ran up the steps and climbed up onto the roof.

I didn't know how long I sat there, just smoking through my cigarettes and glaring at the sky. It was weird how easily I lost track of time. But I didn't care. I hardly cared about much anymore. Not being with Spot anymore made me feel slightly reckless. I didn't need him. I didn't want him. Right?

She was ten years old. Daddy made some nasty remarks to her recently, touching her back the way he used to touch Mommy's back. So she was running now. Running down the dirt road, towards Mister Conlon's carpentry business. He built houses all over Tralee, and he was the best. Everyone asked for him specifically, because he was cheap but efficient and Misses Conlon always brought baked goods for the family that he was building a house for.

"Mister Conlon, is Sean here?" the little girl asked, when she reached the threshold of the building where he worked from.

Sean's father, Patrick, looked up from working out some blueprints, wiping his forehead, looking at the small girl in surprise. "Lissa O'Rouke. It is so good to see your pretty face around here," he said, but it wasn't like when her Daddy spoke to her that way. Mister Conlon was a friend, someone to trust, someone to hold onto tightly and not let go. Just like…

"Da', where do you want me to put this…?"

Sean dropped the pile of wood he was carrying, probably shocked to see her. She wondered how terrible she looked, with her mussed hair and her rumpled dress. She must have looked horrible with tears in her eyes. Sean came over to her, taking her hand, leading her out to the back and under the big oak tree. Their big oak tree.

"What did he do now?" Sean asked, shining blue eyes peering into her own apple green ones. She was nervous to tell him. It really was no big deal, just like Daddy said.

"Nothing. I just wanted to see you," she said, not convincing her friend in the least. He knew her better than that. He knew that way better than that.

"Don't lie to me, mo ghrá," Sean whispered, forehead against hers. She wanted time to stop there. She wanted to shrink down and crawl into his breast pocket, to live forever near his heart, falling asleep to the beat of it in her ear.

"I am not your ghrá," Lissa insisted, but Sean kissed her cheek anyways. She didn't push him away.

"No, you are much more then that, and you know it," Sean hugged her tightly and she sighed, looking up at the gray Irish sky. "Lissa, listen to me."

"I am listening," she said, looking back at him. He was so cute, with his tousled dishwater blond hair, his beautiful blue eyes, and his determination. He was so strong, so smart, so wonderful. And she was just… wrong. Dirty. Weak.

"We are going to get out of here, Lissa. I promise you that. Me and you, we're going to New York City. Don't you want that?" Sean peered at her. She knew she couldn't do it. She couldn't be strong like him.

"Yes, I do," she murmured, her face buried into his shoulder, so he wouldn't see the lies in her eyes.

"Good, because you and I are going to fight the world, remember?" she could hear the smile in his voice. "Remember, Liss? I'll bring down the moon and cut it into little strips and—"

"—Tie them in my hair," Lissa finished for him, lifting her head to smile at him. "I know. It's going to be great, Sean. But it's not great now. And it won't be great until we're on that boat together."

He had nothing to say to her then. Just brushed her hair with his hand and kissed her forehead. He let that be enough. And it was enough.

Behind me, I heard the door open and I felt another wave of irritation hit. "Jack Kelly, I toldja not to come back up here or I'd soak ya. Now get the hell out," I hissed angrily.

"You wouldn't turn me away, wouldja, Angel?"

I dropped my cigarette and ran headlong into him. God, I was so happy to see him. I couldn't believe he came to see me. I just couldn't believe it. Not after today.

"You came. I knew you'd come," I said, nearly in tears.

"Couldn't let ya leave like ya did without comin' to see ya," he murmured. "And 'sides, I just can't stay away."

"They got him, Silver," I whispered. "The Delancy's. They took Crutchy away."

"I know they did, Angel. It's all right," Silver kissed my cheek and it comforted me. I sighed and leaned against him, letting him hold me. "How are you holdin' up, love?"

I almost started crying. But I couldn't do that to myself. Crying was weakness, and I was not weak anymore. "I miss him all ready, Silver. I miss him so much," I whispered, embarrassed by my weakness for a boy who couldn't care less if I dropped dead.

"Oh, my poor Angel," Silver sighed, touching my hair nervously. I wanted to flinch, but I liked the comfort. And I knew he was safe. He wouldn't hurt me. "It's all right to miss 'im. You'se in love, yeah?"

I nodded. "I hate it. I want to be mad at him, but I know if I see him again, I'll forgive him. And I hate that, Silver. I hate it."

Silver leaned back and took my face in his hands, gently since my bruise was yellowing now, but still slightly tender. "That's what you do when ya love somebody, Angel. Ya look past there faults and ya love them wit' everythin' ya got in ya."

"I can't love somebody that hurts me, Silver. I can't do that to myself anymore. I've tried, and I can't," I sniffled, half ready to cry. I didn't want to, but the tears were building quickly.

"Angel, Spot Conlon hurts himself much more then he hurts you'se. I know that's real hard to understand, but he hasn't been the same now that you'se gone. Just sits on ya bed and stares at the wall. That's part of why I'se came here. He was creepin' me out."

I laughed slightly, but it sounded funny since I was half-choked with sobs. It was good to know I wasn't the only one suffering. Spotn Conlon deserved to suffer a bit for what he'd put me through.

"I brought ya stuff back, so the boids wouldn't have to. 'Sides, I wanted an excuse to see ya," Silver said. I sniffled and rubbed my eyes, nodding softly.

"Thank you," I said softly.

Silver shook his head, waiting until I looked up at him to speak again. "Spot ain't right for most people. He's tough and he's cold and he's real hard to love and be close to. But he needs ya, Angel. He's too much of a bastard to tell ya that right now, but he ain't nothin' without ya."

"I can't believe that," I said softly. "He doesn't need me anymore. Maybe he did when we came over on that boat, but he doesn't now. He's got Brooklyn."

"Brooklyn can't hold a candle to you'se, Angel, and ya know it. Ya brought out the best of of that guy and now he's rottin' away in Brooklyn all 'cause you'se walked out."

I was reminded of what Diana had told me when this all started. Of how I bring the best out of people. I wondered if she'd been right, but banished the thought. I wasn't good for anyone.

"You really think that, Silver, or are you just saying that so I won't cry?" I smiled up at him.

"I'se think that, and Spot thinks that. So, get used to it, Angel. You'se a good goil, and if Spot don't know that all ready, then he's the biggest asshole I'se ever met."