Miss Ice: Thanks for the cookie!
Taurus Princess: Of course I know where Bottoms Up is! Unfortunately I couldn't find a waiter willing to be electronically transferred, so pizza it is ;-)
Yanchi, Marron, and Moobug: You're all wrong! Spot is MINE!
Thanks and assorted desserts (or pizza) to all reviewers!
****
When they reached the lodging house, most of the newsies were awake, and hanging around in the lobby. Books, Candy, and Emma were sitting on the stairs. Chip, Packrat, and Shiner were huddled in the far corner, discussing something. The rest of the group were seated on various couches and chairs or on the floor. "Heya Spot!" Bluejay greeted, looking up from the dime novel he was reading.
"Heya Jay," Spot responded. Then he headed over to the stairs. "So, little sister," he said in a displeased tone of voice, "Why didn't you come to mass today?" Books shrugged. "I was tired. I haven't missed a Sunday in a good long while, give me a break!" Spot sighed and layed off the leader act.
"Okay Books, but this better not get to be a regular occurrence."
"Sure thing, little bro." Books loved to remind Spot that he was twelve minutes younger than her and it annoyed the heck out of him.
"Grrrr." It was anyone's guess what would have happened next, had Duchess not chose that moment to blurt out, "Good Lord Blues! Don't you know any happy songs?" Blues had been strumming his banjo and absently humming a slow, sad spiritual. The dark skinned boy looked up at her surprised.
"This is the music of my people," he said solemnly. Duchess was not impressed.
"Look I knew plenty of 'your people' down south, and they knew happy songs."
Everyone rather expected Blues to get annoyed with Duchess, but instead he grinned his slow, bright smile. "I guess I can't fool a Richmond girl," he said, "Okay, you win."
"Don't I always?" Duchess asked with an impish grin. Blue just shook his head as he started playing an upbeat tune on his banjo. Duchess recognized the melody, but couldn't quite place it until Blues sang the first verse.
"One bright morning, when this life is o'er, I'll fly away. To a home on God's celestial shore, I'll fly away."
Duchess' eyes sparkled as she joined him on the chorus:
I'll fly away, Oh Glory
I'll fly away; in the morning
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,
I'll fly away.
When the shadows of this life have gone,
I'll fly away;
Like a bird from prison bars has flown,
I'll fly away
I'll fly away, Oh Glory
I'll fly away; in the morning
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,
I'll fly away
Just a few more weary days and then,
I'll fly away;
To a land where joy shall never end,
I'll fly away
I'll fly away, Oh Glory
I'll fly away; in the morning
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,
I'll fly away.
As she sang, Duchess moved around the room, getting everyone up and moving. She helped them catch onto the simple chorus and by the end, everyone was singing. As Blues strummed the last chord, they all collapsed on various pieces of furniture, laughing and trying to catch their breath. As soon as Duchess had recovered enough to speak, she exclaimed, "Now that's what I call church music!"
****
The next day, a little before noon, Spot and Duchess met up with Secrets, Blues, Magpie, and a few others and headed for Manny's Pub, the Brooklyn newsie hangout. They were about two blocks away when Duchess caught sight of a familiar face passing in the opposite direction. "STOP!" she yelled. All the newsies stopped short. So did the red haired boy, passing them on the sidewalk. She rolled her eyes at the newsies. "Not you." She turned back to the boy. He looked to be about seventeen and was a good eight inches taller than her and fairly burly. He had also gone pale at the sight of her. Duchess' eyes had gone dangerously cold. She pointed to a nearby bench. "Sit." He sat. "Explain."
Behind Duchess, Blues leaned over and whispered to Spot, "Umm, is it just me, or did we miss something?"
"We missed something," Spot affirmed.
The boy was glancing around with a panicked expression. "D-D-Duchess! Wh- what're you doing in New York?" Duchess shook her head.
"Uh uh, Tavish. You're the one doing the explaining. You just up and disappeared three months ago, leaving the rest of us to wonder if you were dead, and I want answers . . . NOW!" She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot impatiently as the boy she had called Tavish attempted to form an explanation.
"Well, uh . . . the thing is . . . uh . . ."
"Yes?"
"I got word that my sister was sick and I had to leave right away. It was urgent!"
"So urgent you didn't have time to so much as leave a note?"
Tavish turned a dull red. "Well, um . . . I guess I didn't think of that," he said sheepishly.
Duchess nodded her acceptance of his explanation and he sighed with relief.
"So," she said, "How is Amie now?"
"Oh, she's fine. It was pneumonia, but she got better"
"Glad to hear it. So, still sellin papes?"
He looked down. "Nah, I got a job in a factory."
Duchess' eyes widened in disbelief. "My Tavish, working in a factory? I think not." She looked over her shoulder at Spot and the rest, who were simply watching the spectacle. "Hey, Spot!"
"Yeah?"
"You got an extra bunk for Tavish here?"
"Sure, if he's got what it takes to be Brooklyn."
"Oh, believe me, he does."
Duchess took Tavish's hand and led him over to the group. "Tavish, this is Spot Conlon, leader of the Brooklyn newsies, and Secrets, Blues, Magpie, Books, Candy, and Packrat, some of his newsies. Guys, this is Ian McTavish, Tavish for short."
Spot and Tavish spit shook, and the group, including its newsest member, continued on to lunch.
Spot pulled Duchess a little away from the others. "Well, if I didn't believe you before about being a leader, I sure do now!"
She just smirked at him and went to talk to Tavish. Spot watched her go, an annoyed expression on his face. As she linked arms with the Scottish boy, talking animatedly, Spot recalled how possessively she had called him "My Tavish." He wondered if Tavish was, or had been, her guy. For some reason the idea made him angry. He glowered and turned away from the pair as Duchess laughed at something Tavish said.
****
Tavish looked back at Spot. "Are you sure that guys tough enough to be leader?" he asked skeptically.
"Now, Tavish, you know better than to judge by appearances," Duchess chided.
He laughed, "Yeah, yeah I do, but you could take him." Now it was Duchess' turn to laugh. "Of course I could. In fact, I already have."
"So why's he still head of Brooklyn?"
"Well, I got out of the leader business. Besides, there's more to taking over a territory than soaking the leader. He's got all those big burly guys' respect to back him up."
Tavish nodded, understanding. Duchess felt the time had come to change the subject.
"So, Amie's still living with your aunt?"
"Yeah. It's better for her. She can be a real lady, you know?"
Duchess supposed she should have taken offense at the insinuation that newsie girls were not 'real ladies,' but hey, it was true. "Yeah, I know what you mean."
"So, how's Johnny?" Tavish knew immediately that he had said something wrong. Duchess stopped walking, and her jaw clenched. "My brother is dead."
"Oh my God, Duch! How? When?"
"Blackjack beat him to death five days ago." Tavish placed a brotherly arm around her shoulder. He knew nothing he could say could make her feel better, so he didn't say anything. "That's why I'm in New York. Blackjack made it look like I did it, and I had to run." They walked like that, arm in arm for a little ways more, then Duchess broke away and grinned at him. "Hey, let's not be depressed. John wouldn't want that."
"You're right, he wouldn't." And they rejoined the rest of the group as they walked into Manny's.
****
A fragment of melody was playing over and over in Spot's head.
I'm Supergirl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna know, why I feel so alone . . . I need someone who's strong enough for me . . .
And as the song played, the image of the tall red haried boy with his arm around Duchess' shoulders haunted Spot. He tried to shake off the weird feeling. 'Come on, this is Duchess you're thinking about! She's just a friend. And a new one at that.' He successfully banished the uncomfortable thoughts as the group arrived at Manny's.
****
AN: You know you want to review! You do . . . so hit the button and review. Otherwise, I'm going to hold the yet to be written next chapter hostage. So go review! What are you waiting for?
Taurus Princess: Of course I know where Bottoms Up is! Unfortunately I couldn't find a waiter willing to be electronically transferred, so pizza it is ;-)
Yanchi, Marron, and Moobug: You're all wrong! Spot is MINE!
Thanks and assorted desserts (or pizza) to all reviewers!
****
When they reached the lodging house, most of the newsies were awake, and hanging around in the lobby. Books, Candy, and Emma were sitting on the stairs. Chip, Packrat, and Shiner were huddled in the far corner, discussing something. The rest of the group were seated on various couches and chairs or on the floor. "Heya Spot!" Bluejay greeted, looking up from the dime novel he was reading.
"Heya Jay," Spot responded. Then he headed over to the stairs. "So, little sister," he said in a displeased tone of voice, "Why didn't you come to mass today?" Books shrugged. "I was tired. I haven't missed a Sunday in a good long while, give me a break!" Spot sighed and layed off the leader act.
"Okay Books, but this better not get to be a regular occurrence."
"Sure thing, little bro." Books loved to remind Spot that he was twelve minutes younger than her and it annoyed the heck out of him.
"Grrrr." It was anyone's guess what would have happened next, had Duchess not chose that moment to blurt out, "Good Lord Blues! Don't you know any happy songs?" Blues had been strumming his banjo and absently humming a slow, sad spiritual. The dark skinned boy looked up at her surprised.
"This is the music of my people," he said solemnly. Duchess was not impressed.
"Look I knew plenty of 'your people' down south, and they knew happy songs."
Everyone rather expected Blues to get annoyed with Duchess, but instead he grinned his slow, bright smile. "I guess I can't fool a Richmond girl," he said, "Okay, you win."
"Don't I always?" Duchess asked with an impish grin. Blue just shook his head as he started playing an upbeat tune on his banjo. Duchess recognized the melody, but couldn't quite place it until Blues sang the first verse.
"One bright morning, when this life is o'er, I'll fly away. To a home on God's celestial shore, I'll fly away."
Duchess' eyes sparkled as she joined him on the chorus:
I'll fly away, Oh Glory
I'll fly away; in the morning
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,
I'll fly away.
When the shadows of this life have gone,
I'll fly away;
Like a bird from prison bars has flown,
I'll fly away
I'll fly away, Oh Glory
I'll fly away; in the morning
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,
I'll fly away
Just a few more weary days and then,
I'll fly away;
To a land where joy shall never end,
I'll fly away
I'll fly away, Oh Glory
I'll fly away; in the morning
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,
I'll fly away.
As she sang, Duchess moved around the room, getting everyone up and moving. She helped them catch onto the simple chorus and by the end, everyone was singing. As Blues strummed the last chord, they all collapsed on various pieces of furniture, laughing and trying to catch their breath. As soon as Duchess had recovered enough to speak, she exclaimed, "Now that's what I call church music!"
****
The next day, a little before noon, Spot and Duchess met up with Secrets, Blues, Magpie, and a few others and headed for Manny's Pub, the Brooklyn newsie hangout. They were about two blocks away when Duchess caught sight of a familiar face passing in the opposite direction. "STOP!" she yelled. All the newsies stopped short. So did the red haired boy, passing them on the sidewalk. She rolled her eyes at the newsies. "Not you." She turned back to the boy. He looked to be about seventeen and was a good eight inches taller than her and fairly burly. He had also gone pale at the sight of her. Duchess' eyes had gone dangerously cold. She pointed to a nearby bench. "Sit." He sat. "Explain."
Behind Duchess, Blues leaned over and whispered to Spot, "Umm, is it just me, or did we miss something?"
"We missed something," Spot affirmed.
The boy was glancing around with a panicked expression. "D-D-Duchess! Wh- what're you doing in New York?" Duchess shook her head.
"Uh uh, Tavish. You're the one doing the explaining. You just up and disappeared three months ago, leaving the rest of us to wonder if you were dead, and I want answers . . . NOW!" She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot impatiently as the boy she had called Tavish attempted to form an explanation.
"Well, uh . . . the thing is . . . uh . . ."
"Yes?"
"I got word that my sister was sick and I had to leave right away. It was urgent!"
"So urgent you didn't have time to so much as leave a note?"
Tavish turned a dull red. "Well, um . . . I guess I didn't think of that," he said sheepishly.
Duchess nodded her acceptance of his explanation and he sighed with relief.
"So," she said, "How is Amie now?"
"Oh, she's fine. It was pneumonia, but she got better"
"Glad to hear it. So, still sellin papes?"
He looked down. "Nah, I got a job in a factory."
Duchess' eyes widened in disbelief. "My Tavish, working in a factory? I think not." She looked over her shoulder at Spot and the rest, who were simply watching the spectacle. "Hey, Spot!"
"Yeah?"
"You got an extra bunk for Tavish here?"
"Sure, if he's got what it takes to be Brooklyn."
"Oh, believe me, he does."
Duchess took Tavish's hand and led him over to the group. "Tavish, this is Spot Conlon, leader of the Brooklyn newsies, and Secrets, Blues, Magpie, Books, Candy, and Packrat, some of his newsies. Guys, this is Ian McTavish, Tavish for short."
Spot and Tavish spit shook, and the group, including its newsest member, continued on to lunch.
Spot pulled Duchess a little away from the others. "Well, if I didn't believe you before about being a leader, I sure do now!"
She just smirked at him and went to talk to Tavish. Spot watched her go, an annoyed expression on his face. As she linked arms with the Scottish boy, talking animatedly, Spot recalled how possessively she had called him "My Tavish." He wondered if Tavish was, or had been, her guy. For some reason the idea made him angry. He glowered and turned away from the pair as Duchess laughed at something Tavish said.
****
Tavish looked back at Spot. "Are you sure that guys tough enough to be leader?" he asked skeptically.
"Now, Tavish, you know better than to judge by appearances," Duchess chided.
He laughed, "Yeah, yeah I do, but you could take him." Now it was Duchess' turn to laugh. "Of course I could. In fact, I already have."
"So why's he still head of Brooklyn?"
"Well, I got out of the leader business. Besides, there's more to taking over a territory than soaking the leader. He's got all those big burly guys' respect to back him up."
Tavish nodded, understanding. Duchess felt the time had come to change the subject.
"So, Amie's still living with your aunt?"
"Yeah. It's better for her. She can be a real lady, you know?"
Duchess supposed she should have taken offense at the insinuation that newsie girls were not 'real ladies,' but hey, it was true. "Yeah, I know what you mean."
"So, how's Johnny?" Tavish knew immediately that he had said something wrong. Duchess stopped walking, and her jaw clenched. "My brother is dead."
"Oh my God, Duch! How? When?"
"Blackjack beat him to death five days ago." Tavish placed a brotherly arm around her shoulder. He knew nothing he could say could make her feel better, so he didn't say anything. "That's why I'm in New York. Blackjack made it look like I did it, and I had to run." They walked like that, arm in arm for a little ways more, then Duchess broke away and grinned at him. "Hey, let's not be depressed. John wouldn't want that."
"You're right, he wouldn't." And they rejoined the rest of the group as they walked into Manny's.
****
A fragment of melody was playing over and over in Spot's head.
I'm Supergirl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna know, why I feel so alone . . . I need someone who's strong enough for me . . .
And as the song played, the image of the tall red haried boy with his arm around Duchess' shoulders haunted Spot. He tried to shake off the weird feeling. 'Come on, this is Duchess you're thinking about! She's just a friend. And a new one at that.' He successfully banished the uncomfortable thoughts as the group arrived at Manny's.
****
AN: You know you want to review! You do . . . so hit the button and review. Otherwise, I'm going to hold the yet to be written next chapter hostage. So go review! What are you waiting for?