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Chapter 10: To Manhattan

Where are we going again?"

Brandy blew a stand of hair out of her face, she and the boys were waiting at the mouth of Brooklyn Bridge.

"Medda's. For a Newsie party."

Brandy played with her skirt.

"Ah."

"It'll be your first appearance as a Brooklynite! You should be excited!"

Indy spoke from his perch on the railing nearby.

"If by excited you mean extremely nervous, then yes, yes I am."

She received a round of chuckles, and just as Indy opened his mouth to reply, Haru, Skiff, and her usual group of chicks spotted her.

They raced toward Brandy at full speed, all talking at once.

With a playful yelp, Brandy dodged behind Cork, using him as a human shield to block her from being tackled.

He, in return, dragged Diego in front of him yelling, "Meat Shield!!!"

Diego pretended to be horrified, yanking Indy off the fence to save himself. The children exploded in a fit of giggles as soon the entire bridge was awash with teenagers scrambling desperately to hide behind each other.

The game continued until Brandy allowed them to catch her, everyone's giggles slowly subsiding.

A hush rippled through them suddenly, the air electric with excitement. There was someone moving through the aisle created by the rowdy crowd. Cheers burst out as he passed.

Spot walked through his Newsies to the edge of the bridge, his cane tapping lightly with each step he took. He strode ahead of the rest onto the structure spanning the river.

There was silence.

Finally he turned, and tossing his cane up, he caught it in the middle of it's black shaft, letting the golden tip fall lazily into a pinwheel spin by his side.

He looked incredible, his hat was in his pocket and his blonde-brown hair flopped rakishly in his face. His blue-grey eyes shone mischievously out at his tribe.

"To Manhattan!"

His smirk as the Newsies whooped in excitement took her breath away. Their eyes met, and he winked at her before spinning on his heel, brusquely setting off across the bridge.

Then they were moving. A united wall pushing her forward across the bridge. Brandy was happy to find herself jostled to the front lines, and from there it was only a short jog to Corkscrew and Spot at the head of the unruly pack.

"Heya Brandy."

Corkscrew grinned when she caught up with him.

"Heya. So we're headed to Medda's?"

"Nah. We're goin' to meet the Manhattan Newsies for a couple a card games at Tibby's. Then we go to Medda's."

"Oh."

There was a slight pause, then Brandy asked the question she had been considering since she had met Jack and the other Manhattaners.

"Jack mentioned a 'last time'. He said it didn't end well. What happened?"

Cork looked at her for a second before replying.

"It was a Newsie Rally during the Strike. The police broke it up to get Jack and it turned into a brawl. We weren't gonna let them have him easily, he was a Newsie, part of out extremely large family. They were armed, we weren't. It was a massacre. But even then Brooklyn gave them some bruises to nurse!"

He was obviously proud of this particular story.

"Indy and Diego managed to take two of the police horses, and led the rest on a merry chase up and down the stairs and onto the stage of the theater. I joined up with Specs and Ice to take back Les, Racetrack, and Blink. Then we spent the rest of the fight guarding one of the boxes that was filled with all the unconscious Newsies. It was quite a night. In the end it took six of them with nightsticks to beat us."

Corkscrew had pride and admiration shining out of his eyes, convincing her of the truth behind his words. Brandy raised a hand to her mouth in horror.

"You remember the story we told you about Spot and the Judge?"

She nodded mutely.

"It was that night. Spot was incredible. He was still conscious and a smart ass, even after it took four of them to beat him into submission."

On the other side of Corkscrew, Spot smirked, but his eyes were hard.

"Four?" Brandy choked out.

"He's not King of Brooklyn for nothin'. Spot fights like no one I've ever seen. It like a game to him. An art form. It makes him happy. The same buzz we get from drinking and smoking, Spot gets from a good fisticuffs."

He snorted slightly.

"Spot is the only guy I know who, when in a fight, believes that being neutral means you hit everybody in sight. I once saw him come into a random brawl and be the only guy left standing, and he had no idea what the fight was about!"

Cork grew serious again, his eyes wandering over to the King of Brooklyn, where he walked just within hearing distance, listening to Diego give him a report on the status in the Bronx.

"He gets thins gleam in his eye. He's so focused. The only time I've ever seen him that intense is-"

It was only because he was looking at him that Corkscrew noticed the eyes that had made Spot Conlon famous slide his way. There was a clear warning in them. One that no person, pauper or king would dare to ignore. Spot had only looked at him that way once before.

The curly haired boy's breath hitched in his throat, and his palms began to sweat. Fear made lances of ice drive up his spine, shattering his backbone.

"Cork?"

Her concerned voice pulled him back to the bridge, out of the dark place those eyes had taken him to. He cleared his throat, not looking at her lest she see the coward he became when the King reprimanded him.

"Nothing. I've never seen him that intense."

Brandy tried to get in front of him, moving her head to catch his eye.

"Corkscrew?"

He turned slightly from her, and a hand grasped her wrist. She reluctantly turned to find Indy grinning at her, and before she could protest he had whisked her away, Diego trailing along behind.

Cork didn't raise his eyes from the road as a familiar black cane tapped the bridge by his feet rhythmically.

"I've always liked you Alexander."

He winced slightly at his real name. He was in trouble.

"I liked you enough to make you my second in command."

Here it comes.

"But your mouth is large and your brain is small."

It was said with such an edge that it cut through the walls he had been trying to build.

"Over the next few days I expect you to take steps to remedy that problem. Before I do."

With that the cane and the voice were both gone. Cork felt humbled, and relived.

The comments were scalding. They would haunt him over the next few weeks every time he opened his mouth.

But at least this lesson hadn't been physical. At least the humiliation hadn't been public.

Cork raised his head, his curls bouncing around his face. Scanning the crowd behind him while walking backwards, he quickly located her red hair.

Grinning, he waited, slipping in beside Haru as she passed, just in time to hear Diego's story come to an end.

"Then the rope gets caught around both their legs, Spot gives a yank, and half the police force of Brooklyn gets dragged into the river!!"

Her laughter echoed across the bridge, making life worthwhile.

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Gone Crazy and Staying There,

Wolfy101