AN: Finally, the rally! I've been itching to get to working with this scene since doing the King of New York chapter, but the story just keeps getting longer than I anticipate. This is a story that is definitely keeping me on my toes, and it's absolutely fantastic. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed working with it
Disclaimer: Leah, Ginny and Charlie are mine. Everything else is Disney's.
Chapter 11: Chaos
Time: End of June, 1899
The theater filled up not long after I joined Les and Sarah in the back. Sarah was dressed in a way that my mother would definitely approve of had we lived in this time period. It's not that I minded; Sarah was so nice, homely, and she was definitely pretty enough to pull it off. I just couldn't help but be a bit jealous of her; she was looking nice for someone she genuinely admired and who liked her back, whereas I was just showing off for someone else against my will.
I shoved the thought in the back of my mind as Sarah and I talked. She asked me what Michigan was like, what I was studying, what brought me to New York, etc., and I in turn asked her about her family life and what she thought of the newsies. Sarah didn't try to pry into my personal life like everyone else had, and I thought that she was awesome for it. Just before the rally started, Jack, David and Spot they came to fill us in on a few things. I felt uncomfortable when Jack nodded his approval at me, and I was definitely unnerved when Spot just stared at me. What exactly was going through his mind?
I was relieved when they went on the stage to begin the rally.
"Carryin' the banner!" Jack shouted.
In response, the newsies in the crowd stood up and cheered loudly and enthusiastically, holding their signs high. There were so many newsies, that I couldn't help but smile-even though I somewhat knew how the night would turn out.
"So, we've come a long way," Jack said when the newsies quieted down, "but we ain't there yet and maybe it's only gonna get tougher from now on. But that's fine; we'll just get tougher with it."
There was a meager cheering to this. Even Spot started clapping.
"But also," Jack continued, "we gotta get smart and start listening to my pal David, who says 'stop soakin' the scabs'.
"What are we supposed to do to the bums?" Racetrack asked loudly. "Kiss 'em?"
I rolled my eyes when the boys started laughing at Race's comment.
"Any scab I see I soak 'em." Spot said, his face set. "Period."
There were shouts of agreement from the boys, all of which were interrupted by David.
"No, no!" He protested. "That's what they want us to do. If we get violent, it's just playing into their hands."
"Hey, look. They're gonna be playing with my hands, alright." Spot countered him. "'Cuz it ain't what they say, it's what we say. And nobody ain't gonna listen to us unless we make 'em."
I watched as the newsies took different sides of this argument, getting as rowdy as they usually do.
"This is madness!" I exclaimed. "If we keep going on like this, there's no way we can win the strike!"
"You got no brains!" Jack shouted, breaking up the argument. "Why we starting to fight each other? It's just what the big shot's wanna see. That we're street trash! Street rats with no brains. No respect for nothing, including ourselves! So, here's how it's gonna be. If we don't act together, then we're nothing. If we don't stick together, then we're nothing. And if we can't even trust each other, then we're nothing."
"Tell 'em Jack!" Kid Blink shouted from the balcony.
"So, what's it gonna be?" Jack shouted.
There was a murmur among the crowd as the newsies agreed with Jack's point. Jack turned to Spot, who looked a little…unsure.
"So what do you say, Spot?" Jack asked.
I had no idea of what was going on through Spot's mind as he scanned the crowd. I wore a pleading look on my face that I dearly hoped said something along the lines of "Please don't argue, just agree with the womanizer for once in your life." Finally, he spoke.
"I say that what you say…is what I say." Spot told Jack with a smile.
The newsies cheered as Spot and Jack spit-shook. Just then, the curtains opened to reveal Medda wearing a pink, somewhat skimpy dress that showed off her legs. The cheering grew louder, and every single newsie jumped out of his seat as the music started. Jack, David and Spot got off the stage to join Sarah, Les and me at the table.
Medda & Newsies: High times, hard times
Sometimes the living is sweet
And sometimes there's nothing to eat
But I always land on my feet
So when there's dry times
I wait for high times and then
I put on my best
And I stick out my chest
And I'm off to the races again!
I could hear Racetrack screaming Medda's name, and was tempted to laugh.
"Hello, newsies!" Medda exclaimed, smiling widely. "What's new?"
"Good one." I couldn't help but say as the newsies continued to cheer. At this point, Kid Blink had actually jumped down from the balcony to get closer to the performer.
"Just wait." Spot said to me with a smile as he sat down. "It gets even better."
Medda: So your old lady don't love you no more
So you're afraid there's a wolf at your door
So you've got street rats that scream in your ear
Medda & Newsies: You win some, you lose some my dear!
Oh…High times, hard times
Sometimes the living is sweet
And sometimes there's nothing to eat
But I always land on my feet
So when there's dry times
I wait for high times and then
I put on my best
And I stick out my chest
And I'm off to the races again
Medda: I put on my best!
Newsies: I put on my best!
Medda: And I stick out my chest
Newsies: And I sticks out my chest
Medda: And I'm off
Newsies: And I'm off
Medda: And I'm off
Newsies: And I'm off
Medda: And I'm off
All: To the races again!
To my right, Spot was taking a sip from his drink and smiling as he watched the newsies dancing around Medda, one of which was Jack.
"She's good." I remarked.
This had been the routine for the last hour; watching Medda sing and the newsies dancing with her, each one eager to join in. When Medda took a short break after the first half hour, Spot and I shared stories. I told him about my family, and he told me how he became a newsie and the leader of Brooklyn.
After a while, David leaned around me to say something to Spot, who looked concerned after hearing him. David went forward to get to Jack while Spot urgently took my hand.
"What's happening?" I asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.
"The bulls are here." Spot said quickly, pulling me through the crowd as I heard the telltale whistle of the police. "We gotta get everyone out."
We tried to get through the lobby, but there were so many policemen that escape was impossible. We tried to run, but two cops grabbed us and attempted to drag us out. From the corner of my eye, I saw Racetrack leading Medda and my cousins backstage and trying to defend her. He left to fight one of the bulls, but the guy ruthlessly kicked Racetrack in the stomach and punched his face hard, knocking him out. Medda broke away from her maid to deal with the thug.
"No!" She screamed. "He's just a child! Can't you see that? Racetrack!"
Medda was pulled back as Racetrack was dragged away. I kept watching long enough to see Ginny pull away from another stagehand to get to Racetrack. I wasn't the only one who noticed her; two of the cripes who had attacked us the other day were back, seeking revenge.
"GINNY!" I screamed, breaking free from the cop and taking off into a run to get to her. When I got close enough, I saw her fighting off the guy who was dragging Racetrack's limp form away, and the guy did not withhold from punching her and throwing her to the ground.
I was seeing red. I all but charged at the guy and shoved him to the ground with every ounce of my strength, throwing as many punches as I could at his ugly face. When I was finished, I noticed that Ginny was just barely conscious as the Delanceys got closer, itching to get her.
"Oh no, you don't!" I screamed at them, charging at Morris-the closest one to us-and elbowing him hard in the ribs before turning onto Oscar and throwing kicks at him. I was so busy trying to protect Ginny from the bulls that I did not notice that one guy had actually led a horse into the theater. I turned around just in time to see the horse's hoof hit me hard in the face. It looked like a light kick at first, but it hurt beyond crud. I fell to the ground and blacked out, but not before seeing a few of the bulls surrounding me.
Only a few facts were clear when I slowly regained consciousness. One: wherever I was, it was rather cold and dark. Two: this cot was made out of rocks and fleas. Three: this was the kind of room that was just not meant to hold so many people at once. And lastly: my head hurt beyond what I thought was humanely possible.
I winced when I opened my eyes and rubbed the spot on my head where the horse had kicked me. "Terrific." I mumbled somewhat incoherently. "I've had two large cuts on my lip and arm, got a broken leg, and pneumonia. But this one hurt."
"Momentai." A familiar voice said back to me.
I jumped, grimacing as I did. As my sight became a bit clearer, I noticed that at least a dozen of the Manhattan newsies were here in the cell with me: Mush, Racetrack, Kid Blink, Skittery, Boots, Snipeshooter, Snitch, Pie Eater, Swifty, Specs, and Bumlets. I wasn't sure of who said Momentai to me, but I was pretty sure that it was Kid Blink. The boys looked terrible. A handful of them had black eyes, almost all of them looked sleep deprived, and Spec's glasses were cracked. I felt guilty for sleeping on the cot when at least one or two of them had been unconscious, so I attempted to get out of the cot so that someone else could claim it.
"You guys doing okay?" I groaned as I struggled to sit up.
"I wouldn't move if I were you." Specs said, putting a firm hand on my shoulder to push me back to the bed. "That was a bad concussion ya got from that horse."
"Trust me; movin's gonna hurt like the dickens if yer tryin' too hard." Racetrack remarked.
Obviously, he had fought a fight that had resulted like that. I rolled my eyes and winced when it hurt.
"Where are we at, anyway?" I asked, lying back on the bed of rocks.
"The Refuge, obviously." Boots groaned, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"The Refuge?" I repeated. "That explains the fleas and the bed of rocks."
"I heard that." One of the prison guards remarked outside of our cell.
It was then that I remembered what had happened the night before, recalling the exact circumstances that had led to the position I was in now, and I was not in a good mood. I couldn't help it; I sat right back up and swore at him in every language I knew. I didn't care that it hurt; I was mad at the bulls for what had happened at the rally.
"So what happens now?" I asked, wincing as I lay back on the cot.
"We're waitin' for the judge to give us a fine fer the rally." Bumlets said. "All of the newsies were soaked at that rally, includin' Jack."
I closed my eyes, rubbing my forehead. I knew that Jack had been arrested, but it still didn't feel good to know that it was true.
"What about Denton?" I asked. "David? Les? Sarah? What about my cousins?"
"Denton got out." Kid Blink said. "So did Davey, Les an' Sarah."
"And my cousins? Are they all right?"
There was a long moment of silence. Suddenly afraid, I opened my eyes and slowly turned my head to face the boys. Some of them looked guilty, and all of them looked unsure.
"Guys?" I asked uncertainly. "Ginny and Charlie…where are they?"
No one answered for the longest time. Finally, it was Mush who spoke.
"We don't know." He said. "We've been watchin' the door to see who else was arrested. We've seen Snoddy, Spot, and Jack at one point…but we haven't seen Ginger or Chuck since the rally."
We were interrupted when one of the bulls opened the cell door. "Time for the trial." He said to us.
"All rise. All rise." The bailiff said. "Court is now in session. Judge E.A. Monahan presiding."
Obviously the court had no sympathy for people with splitting headaches or other injuries. I wasn't quite able to stand because I was so disoriented, so Mush and Spot-who had joined us-did their best to support me. The sounds of the gavel still hurt, though. I didn't feel any better when Spot told me that he hadn't seen either of my cousins.
"Are any of you represented by council?" The judge asked.
No one seemed to know what he was talking about. "Good, that will move things along considerably."
"Hey, yer honor, I object!" Spot piped from my left.
"On what grounds?" Judge Monahan asked, looking at Spot hard.
There was a slight pause. "On the grounds of Brooklyn, yer honor." He said finally. The newsies started to crack up. Monahan banged on his desk to silence the laughter, causing the ache in my head to get worse.
"I fine each of you five dollars," The judge said, "or two weeks confinement in the House of Refuge."
This was not good news. I wasn't sure of how much money I had left, but I knew that it wouldn't be enough to cover me and my cousins together. If anything happened to them…
"Whoa. We ain't got five bucks. We don't even got five cents!" Racetrack protested before adding in another joke. "Hey, yer honor, how 'bout I roll you for it. Double or nothing?"
This was not going very well. Thankfully, Denton had made it through the crowd and into the courtroom, followed by David. "Your honor, I'll pay the fines." He said. "All of them."
"Hey, you fellas alright?" David asked. "Where's Jack?"
"Look, we've got to meet at the restaurant." Denton said to us urgently. "Everybody. We have to talk."
"David!" I exclaimed, looking at him desperately. "Ginny and Charlie, where are they? Where are my cousins, David?"
"Don't worry, they're alright." David said. "Denton got them out before any more damage could be done. Ginny got a black eye and she has a handful of bruises on her, but my mother checked on her and said that she'll be fine. Charlie isn't hurt, and they're both waiting for you at the lodging house."
I breathed out a sigh of relief that I hadn't realized that I was holding in. At least no permanent damage had been done.
"Hey fellas!"
I turned around to see that Jack had been led in, his hands cuffed behind him and one of his eyes now a delicate shade of purple and black. Close to him, Denton was paying the fines.
"Hey, Denton. I guess we made all the papes this time." Jack remarked. "So, how's my picture look?"
"None of the papers covered the rally." Denton answered gravely. "Not even the Sun."
"Case of Jack Kelly." The bailiff announced. "Inciting a riot. Assault. Resisting arrest."
"Judge Monahan, I'll speak for this young man."
I winced when I heard the voice of Warden Snyder come from behind my group of newsies. Mush and Spot were trying to move me away from the courtroom, but I didn't dare move as the judge gave Snyder permission to continue.
"This boy's real name is Francis Sullivan." Snyder said. "His mother's deceased. His father's a convict in the state penitentiary. He's an escapee from the House of Refuge where his original sentence for three months was extended to six months for disruptive behavior."
When Jack interrupted to make a remark about Snyder's greed for money, I paused to think. I did remember that Jack had lied about his name, but I didn't know that his mother was dead or that his father was in jail. That explained part of what Medda had told me what seemed like an eternity ago…
"Therefore, I ask that he be returned to the House of Refuge." Snyder concluded, and I remembered who it was that I was mad at.
"What?" Jack didn't sound happy either. "For my own good, right? Move it along? For my own good and for what he kicks back to you!"
"I ask that the court order his incarceration until the age of twenty-one, in the hope that we may yet guide him to a useful and productive life." Snyder said, with a look in his eerily white eyes that appeared to be concern but what was actually an evil look that clearly said 'I've got you back, and you're not getting away this time.' This time, no opinion of mine could be held back.
"Oh, and what's your definition of 'useful and productive', Snyder?" I spat, struggling against Mush's hold on me. "Another slave in the sweatshops? Or another kid who just puts more money in your pocket? You don't care about him, or about any of the boys in the refuge, or about any child who is in honest need of your help! You're a sadist!"
"Silence, girl-"
"You scab bastard!" I snarled, ignoring the judge's interruption. "You're the real criminal, Snyder, and no one in their right minds would spare you a nickel, even if their lives depended on it!"
"That's enough, Clover." Spot interrupted me.
"Your honor?" Snyder said, acting as though nothing had happened.
"So ordered." The pathetic excuse for a judge ordered. I ignored the pain in my head and Les's protest as the reality set in. As long as Jack was in the refuge, he was more of a prisoner than he deserved to be, and the newsies wouldn't stand a chance against Pulitzer. We were doomed.
I turned to face the newsies, who were staring at me with looks of shock and-in some cases-admiration. I smiled grimly. "What? Never heard a girl swear before?"
AN: …so yeah, there's the chapter. Sorry that there wasn't more to the fight scene; I'm not too great with those, and I wanted to get the gist of what occurred. Anyways, reviews are nice, and the story shall continue in due time.