I was looking at the dates I had last updated all of my stories, and realized I should probably invest some time in this one... so, here ya are! Please remember to read my disclaimer, and that I no longer type out the New York accents phonetically. Also, I have decided to take some liberties with historical accuracy. In other words, Blink doesn't wear an eyepatch, because he is only partially blind in one eye. (I don't know if he was missing his entire eye, if he was just partially blind or if he was looking for some people to buy paers off him for sympathy. Pretty much every website says something different.)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Newsies, nor do I necessarily agree with some of the views expressed in this chapter... but remember when reading this chapter that this story is taking place in 1899. I don't want hate mail telling me I am close minded for "hating" homosexuals (because I don't) or unChristian for not "hating" them (in fact, I am Christian. You can be Christian and not "hate" homosexuals. I know several people like that.) Okee dokee, on with the show.
P.S. Even though Miss Adams uses it a lot, "Woah-kay" is my trademark word. Don't use it, please. You will make me very ticked off.
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Okay, wow. In less than twenty-four hours, I had gone through a time warp, lost my cane, bought papers at a distribution office and met a really attractive guy, who happens to be the leader of the real 1899 newsies strike.
But, wait... didn't Kid Blink have an eye patch?
Not that I was complaining or anything... but, that puzzled me. And it continued to puzzle me the entire day, except for that time when I forgot about this entire where-is-Kid-Blink's-eyepatch thing because the paper distribution officer was being a jerk.
"Fifty papes." Mary handed the man behind the safety grate a quarter, and he handed her fifty papers. I copied her, almost exactly...
"Twenty papers, please," I asked, making sure my accent was still blocked. I looked up and... Okay... why is this guy glaring at me? I gave him his dime, right? I checked to make sure I did, and there it was, on the man's side of the grate.
"Was that... sarcasm... is your voice, you little slut?" Slut!? Woah-kay, uncalled for!
I had to defend myself. I knew people were watching, and they weren't going to help me unless I first helped myself. "Sarcasm? All I did was ask for twenty papers. And where do you go off calling me a slut!?"
"Where do I go off calling you a slut? Right here, you little hussy." Oh, so it's hussy now, eh?
This next move of mine was very stupid, but the only insult that came to my mind right then (even though several of my newsies in Brooklyn were gay) was: "You know, that would be insulting, if it didn't come from a queer!" Ugh. I hate saying that word that way! The man's face grew beet red. No one spoke a word as I slowly realized I should have picked something different to say.
Oh, sh--
"Really, Turkey. The girl said please and without any undertone of sarcasm. Lighten up and give her the papers she paid for." I looked to my left, with the same suprised face as every other newsie (at least those I could see). This little speech (which saved my life, or at least one or two of my limbs) was delivered by Kid Blink (who still did not have an eye patch).
"Cut out of it, kid. And for the last time, it's Turken. Mister Turken to you." I couldn't tell if the man was addressing the boy to my left by a nickname (Kid) or as just the general slang term describing children (kid). I think it was the latter, but whatever it was, Kid Blink just gave Turken an even stare, until the man grudgingly picked up my dime and slid my papers in the space between the counter and the grate. I reached for my papers, but Kid Blink got to them first.
"Five, ten, fifteen... eighteen?" He looked at Turken with a bemused smile. "Well, I think you owe Wolfie here two more papers." Wolfie? Whatever. Kid Blink was helping me, and that's what mattered.
"If the little hussy wants two more papers, she needs to pay another penny."
"Really? Because that was clearly a dime she handed you. So I figure if you don't want to give Wolfie two more papers, you should refund her for those two with a penny. Your choice," he shrugged.
Needless to say I stood rooted to my spot absolutely dumbfounded until Turken handed me my two papers. I grabbed the other eighteen that were resting by the arm Kid Blink had set on the counter and turned to go. As I walked down the ramp I heard snickers and whispers that were silenced as soon as I felt a hand rest on my right shoulder.
"You sell with me today, Wolfie."
Oh wow. Oh wow. Ohhhh wow...
---
Oh wow. I really suck at selling newspapers. Great way to impress the guy, Emily. You idiot...
"You better just give up, Wolfie. It's a over half past three; that afternoon edition is old news." I agreed. I had five papers left... five! I really truly hated myself at that point. I couldn't sell five measly little...
"Girl! You, paper girl!" I turned. "How much for all five papers?"
"Five cents..."
"Done." She ripped the five papers from my hand, put a nickle in my empty palm, and ran off the way she came, not telling me why she needed five freakin' newspapers. I turned to Kid Blink, who was laughing.
"What?"
"You are one lucky newsie, Wolfie. If she hadn't've come along, you would be eating those papers for dinner."
"I know that!"
"C'mon, Wolfie. We have an evening edition to sell to the lovely citizens of New York City," he joked as he sauntered back to the distribution center.
Okay, so this guy never gave up a chance to call me "Wolfie". Whenever he talked to me, he always used "Wolfie". Why? I had no freakin' clue. It was getting on my nerves. "Why do you do that?"
He turned to me. "Do what, Wolfie?"
"Say my name in every sentence you direct at me. 'You better just give up, Wolfie.' 'C'mon, Wolfie.' Seriously, what the--" his hand gripped my arm firmly as he pulled me out of the way of a messenger in a cardinal red uniform on a bike.
"You should be more careful, Wolfie," he chastised. If it wasn't for that smile that briefly crossed his face, would have thought he used my name accidentally.
"You didn't answer my question."
"I'm your leader, Wolfie. You shouldn't question me."
I opened my mouth to say something but promptly shut it. We turned the corner and the distribution office was there. We quickened pace and soon reached the end of a very short line.
"Is Wolfgang your real name, Wolfie?"
"Why do you care, Kid Blink?" Haha. I was going to get him back.
"I told you not to question your leader. And you can call me Kid, or Blink. You don't have to use the whole name." He knew what I was doing. And it just amused him.
"So I'm just supposed to follow your lead blindly without any regard to what I think or feel?" I did say that angrily. I never led like that, never. And if this Kid Blink person did, I was leaving Manhatten and joining up with Brooklyn.
Blink turned to me, momentarily shocked. "No, Wolfie. I can see you're too smart to do that. Just remember to question me to my face, politely. Don't backtalk me, don't insult me, don't embarass me in front of my newsies. Understand, Wolfie?" He was looking directly into my eyes the entire time, so I could only muster up enough brain power to nod. Without breaking eye contact, he raised his left eyebrow. "Are you sure, Wolfie?"
Oh, fine. So he was one of those say-it-don't-nod-it type of leaders. Okay, so I was too. "Yes, Blink."
"Good," he said as he pushed me in front of him. "Now go get your papers... and try not to piss off Turkey this time."
---
So I sold my thirty papers (Blink made me get more this time) with ease. There had been a headline about how some freak killed his next-door nighbor's cat. Blink and I just screamed "MURDER!", sold a few papes each, and got out of that selling spot ASAP so they wouldn't catch our improved headlines. This is where I learned that very few newsies ever used selling spots when the headlines were bad. After we were done selling, we bought some dinner at one of the few food carts that was still open this late. It was getting dark, so we started on our way to the lodging houses.
"So, Wolfie, are you staying at the girls lodging house on Duane Street?"
"Wait... there's two?"
"Ah, that's right. You spent your morning in the boy's lodging house, didn't you, Wolfie?"
"Yeah... I guess. But if it's the boys place, why were some girls there?"
"Well, Wolfie, Mary was there because she is our unofficial nurse, and as a chaperone. The others were there because an unfamiliar girl showing up in a crumpled heap on the doorstep of a newsboy lodging house is a rare and odd sight."
"So I was a momentary freak show?" I joked.
"That is it exactly, Wolfie," he joked back.
I couldn't help myself. If he wasn't wearing an eyepatch, why did they call him Kid Blink? So, I just sorta let it burst out... "Why do they call you Kid Blink?" Wait. Shouldn't've done that...
But Blink didn't seem offended. "Because I'm slightly blind in my left eye. Why do they call you Wolfgang?"
Snap. In a matter of milliseconds, I had dug through my brain matter and remembered something about myself: "I play the piano." Yeah. I'm good...
"Really, Wolfie? Because this morning you led Skittery to think it's because your parents named you that." His voice had suddenly become a little stern, a little wary. A little like mine gets when I'm questioning a suspicious person on my territory.
Okay. Maybe I'm not so good. The next lie was an easy one, though: "I woke up lying on a table surrounded by strange people posing theories about my origin, including that I was from Brooklyn. What would you have done?"
"I certainly would not have told them my parents had named me Kid Blink, Wolfie." His voice was still stern.
"So I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer. Please, forgive me."
He chuckled. "Au contraire, Wolfie. I think you are very sharp. But I suppose your mind wasn't very clear. From what I heard about you, Wolfie, you couldn't stand up without fainting."
"Well, I only tried standing up once and--"
"And then you cursed our friend Spot Conlon, Wolfie. What was that about?" Hos voice had taken on that tone again, except more clearly this time. We had stopped and he had me with my back to a brick wall. I got a clear look at his face, which was vaugely illuminated by the light from a distant lampost. The stern and wary tone was reflected in his eyes.
"It's nothing. Really, nothing."
"Are you sure you're not a conquest of his, Wolfie?"
"What!?" Okay, buddy. You're cute and all, but that goes too far. "Listen, I have gotten called a hussy and a slut today by some idiot and I really do not think I need any more of it--"
"I'm not saying you sleep around, Wolfie. I'm asking your relationship to Spot Conlon, and if you are a one-night stand of his, or a girl who trusted him and got taken advantage of, you need to know that that fact does not make you a whore. I need to know who you are and where you come from before I let you roam around with my newsies. Is that understood, Wolfie?"
What!? "'Roam around'? Are you suggesting..."
"No, Wolfie. I am not suggesting that you sleep around, and I have told you that." He was pretty angry by this time. "But before you are around my newsies --especially because I have some of the youngest under my care-- I need to know if you're safe or not. Understand?"
I shrank back against the brick wall "Yes, Blink." I murmured.
"Good." Noticing some of the looks we were getting, he took me by my upper left arm, firmly but gently, and led me into a nearby alleyway. I stood against a wall, and he faced me. "Spit it out, Wolfie." His voice was a little more gentle this time.
I straightened my shoulders and looked right up into his eyes. "I'm Wolfgang Adams. I once lived in Brooklyn, yes, but I am not some spy of Conlon's and am in no way asscociated with his newsies."
"Then where is your accent, Wolfie? And why did you cuss him out earlier today?"
I stopped blocking my accent. "Some of your newsies thought I was from Brooklyn. One seemed very eager at the prospect of beating me up for that fact, so I blocked my accent."
He was looking at me, eyes wide with suprise. "Blocking accents is hard. But you still didn't tell me why you were --maybe still are-- angry with him. Like I said, if you are some conquest of his I won't think any less of you. If I will think less of anyone it will be him."
"Because he kicked me out of Brooklyn." That wasn't too far from the truth, was it? "He thought I was a spy from Coney, or something. So I got kicked out of Brooklyn, walked here, got beat up by some idiots--"
"Did they rape you, or try to?" He seemed genuinely concerned, especially since he hadn't used my name.
"No. They heard someone coming so they stopped and ran off." Why did I hate lying to him so much? It was easier to lie to my granddad than it was to lie to this boy I had met only today.
He nodded. "Thank you, Wolfie. I'll walk you to your lodging house." I was suddenly grateful he didn't talk about the clothes. Mary must not have told him.
He put a hand in the small of my back and guided me out of the alley. My heart almost stopped. Hey, don't give me that look! I like the guy... so sue me! Anyway, after a few feet he dropped his hand and started chuckling. "You've got spunk, Wolfie."
"Why do you say that?" Boy oh boy was it a relief not to block my accent anymore!
"Your encounter earlier today with Turkey, and just now. You can give some fairly murderous looks, Wolfie."
"Is that a good thing?"
"Yeah, Wolfie. It is. Do you remember who it was that wanted to soak you for being from Brooklyn?"
"Nope."
"Hmm. I have a hunch who it is anyway." We had reached the girl's lodging house. "I'll come in with you and explain to Mary why you blocked your accent. After that, you're on your own, Wolfie. There are some troublemaking girls who will most likely call you a whore and such things because you and I spent two-thirds of the day selling together. They're not much to worry about; no one listens to them, including me."
"Are they really that obnoxious, Blinkie?"
He looked down at me, making intense eye contact. I felt my heart beating against my ribcage. "Call me 'Blinkie' again and I will have to punish you, Wolfie." He sent me a little smile (which made my pulse speed up to an even more dangerous rate) to let me know he was kidding before he turned and opened the door to the lodging house, holding it for me to enter before him. As soon as I walked in I felt unfriendly glares and turned to see three girls watching me angrily. Blink had just started walking towards Mary, who was talking to a sad looking young girl in the corner.
I caught up to him. "I assume those are the troublemakers," I said and discreetly nodded in the direction of the three girls I mentioned earlier.
"That would be them, Wolfie."
Mary saw us and sent the child on her way. Blink explained the situation to Mary, who nodded and showed me to the dormitories after Blink had left.
"How was your day?" She asked mischieviously.
"His eyes are gorgeous..." I trailed off, leaving Mary laughing.
She showed me to my bunk (a bottom one near the front, which means it was furthest away from the washroom) and I thanked her for not telling Blink about the clothes.
She gave me a puzzled look. "I did, though."
I looked back at her, as suprised as she was.
A grin began growing on her face. "He must liiike yooou!"
I threw a pillow at her.
But secretly I hoped he did.
---
OH.
MY.
GOSH.
Don't you guys love me? I wrote you a reaaaaaaly loooong chapter! And I did it all in less than twenty-four hours!
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