"Don't stare at the water. It makes it worse."
David pulled his gaze back from the churning water below and fixed it instead on the slight, scowling girl beside him. Bits of hair fell loose from her braid and whipped around her face and eyes, both of which she kept turned away so it was difficult for David to get a good look at her. He wasn't even sure she'd spoken and if she had it would have been the first time he'd heard her say anything since that morning when Race had shown up with her and explained to David that a trip to Brooklyn was in order. She hadn't opened her mouth once, hadn't answered any of Race's questions or responded to any of David's well-meaning small talk.
"Makes what worse?" David asked but his speaking to her only caused the girl to scowl more fiercely at the opposite shore as the ferry crossed ever closer to Brooklyn. He left her standing at the railing and approached Racetrack instead, taking a place along the bench seating but kept his eyes focused on the girl.
"She can talk," David pointed out.
"'Course she can talk," Race answered irritably. "When she wants to."
"What'd you say her name was again?"
Race rolled his eyes in a way that a person does when they have already been asked and answered a question no less than three times since the ferry left the dock at Manhattan. Race let one word slip through in an exasperated tone. "Tay."
"Tay," David repeated. What he really wanted to know was why Race had been so tight-lipped about this sudden need to visit Brooklyn, why Race hadn't let Tay out of his sight since they'd stepped onto the ferry and he certainly wanted to know if this was the same girl Jack had been looking for that day in Brooklyn when they'd first arrived to negotiate with Spot Conlon. Because if that was the same girl, she may have had more to do with the strike than Race was willing to admit. But every time David went to ask a new question he'd lose his nerve and end up pretending that he'd forgotten the girl's name instead.
"You said she'd run if you let go of her," David commented, reminding Race of the brief argument they'd had earlier when Race had stubbornly maintained a vice-like grip on Tay's elbow while David had expressed some concern about that. He wasn't at all keen on the idea of kidnapping or even appearing to kidnap an unwilling girl no matter what Race said about the situation.
"She's scared of water, she ain't going nowhere for right now," Race muttered while he searched his vest pocket and produced a cigar stub which he proceeded to light and smoke in grim silence. David tried to fit Tay into some picture he had in his head of the kind of girl who would hang around with Spot Conlon but came up with nothing. He had pictured someone a little tougher, a bit rough around the edges but as he studied Tay's profile he found himself at a loss. One of the only good things about the whole trip was that it was proving to be a decent distraction from the turmoil he'd been suffering through since the moment Jack Kelly had left the circulation gate wearing a brand-new suit with his pockets stuffed full of Pulitzer's bribe money.
"So how long have you known Race?" David asked as he returned to his earlier place alongside Tay. He tried not to be offended or to notice the fact that she shied away slightly as he approached. Judging by her clothes and general appearance David guessed she was younger, but there wasn't much to go on. Everything she wore was ill-fitting and appeared to be second-hand which wasn't unusual given the way most street children were clothed in items from various rag bags or charity drives.
"Not much for talking, huh?" David awkwardly picked at the cuff of his shirt as Tay continued staring moodily toward the opposite shore. "I don't blame you considering how you were treated this morning. Race hasn't told me much but I can imagine you must be pretty upset so I just want to let you know that I'm sorry."
For a brief moment Tay looked straight at David and he was startled by the mix of fear and loathing in her eyes. At first he had just thought she was stubborn or perturbed about being thrown into this new situation the same way he was but David began to get the impression she wasn't nearly as angry or strong as she wanted to appear. Tay looked over her shoulder toward Race before turning back toward the Brooklyn skyline. As she turned he noticed a few smudges along her neck that looked like bruised skin and there was a thin scar that ran down along her cheek. A number of cuts and bruises were scattered across the backs of her hands and arms and it was clear that Tay had a history of violence. He gave her points for remaining at the water's edge after what Race had told him. David knew that if he was frightened of water, there was no way he'd be standing at the railing with the tips of his shoes balanced precisely on the edge of the ferry. But then he noticed Tay's white-knuckle grip on the railing and the way she would step back quickly when it seemed there was any chance of water splashing up onto her. David guessed that she was trying to prove something to him, or to Race, or possibly even to herself. Before he could even address it Race had come along, sweeping Tay back up into his grasp just as the ferry began to dock and David felt the acidic nervousness rising back up in his stomach.
The space along the waterfront was fairly deserted and the only newsies who had congregated nearby were younger than those David had seen on his previous visit. The heat rose from the sun-bleached dock as David paced back and forth while Race fumed at Tay. She still hadn't said a word since they'd left the ferry and David was beginning to believe he was stuck in Brooklyn with two of the most stubborn people he'd ever met. It had been over an hour and there was no sign either party was anywhere close to giving in.
"He was there himself so it ain't like you was there to get information about Jack," Race was saying to Tay as David tuned back to the conversation. The mention of Jack left David feeling sick to his stomach. Race continued, "And don't pretend that you're acting like this 'cause you're sore at me for bringing you back here. You was gonna end up right back here anyway. You always do."
David paused for a moment upon hearing this new information and he glanced over to where Tay stood with her arms crossed, pointedly ignoring nearly everything Race was saying. Her face was flush but David couldn't tell if it was from the heat or if she was equally as frustrated with Race as he was with her.
"Fine, be stubborn. It ain't like I need your help anyway." Race faced David and gestured over his shoulder toward Tay. "Keep an eye on her. I got some things that need to get sorted and it'll be better if she ain't leading us on a wild goose chase."
David felt very unsure about his ability to keep Tay anywhere she didn't want to be and was about to express that opinion when Race headed off down the pier and back to the street. David watched him go for a moment and that quick moment turned out to be a huge mistake as he turned to find Tay had already disappeared. David eyed the other newsies for a second but was quickly deterred from asking by the fact that although they were younger, they had the same affinity for nasty looks and imposing manners as all the other Brooklyn newsies. Seeing how the only way back into the city was directly past where he was standing David decided Tay must have at least stuck to the surrounding area and he ventured off to see if he could find her.
"What are you doing here?" Tay's voice was ice-cold, causing a chill to run down David's spine and he'd frozen in place, staring at an advertisement for a ship to London. His curiosity had led him into the decrepit ferry depot and eventually to the small office in the back. It turned out the room had not been an office for quite some time and David had explored the bedroom without much concern about who the room belonged to. He'd been drawn in by the advertisements plastered along the walls and a copy of Denton's article tucked in among the yellowing travel ads. At the moment he stood perfectly still, hoping a hole would just open in the floor and swallow him whole.
"N-Nothing," David stammered. He couldn't meet Tay's eyes and instead stared at the floor. The edge of a dark stain was visible near the bed that looked suspiciously like blood but David wasn't the slightest bit interested in finding out what it really was.
"It's from the last person Spot found skulking around his room unwanted," Tay explained, glancing down at the same point as David. He was so stunned that he almost missed the hint of a smile around the edges of Tay's mouth. Any relief David felt was quickly washed away by the realization that he standing in Spot Conlon's room. He probably would have run but Tay still stood in the door, eyeing him curiously as he contemplated his choices.
"I didn't mean to-where have you been?" David asked.
"You ain't in charge of me," Tay scorned. She reached up to the shelf along the wall and took down a hand-rolled cigarette and a pack of matches. As she lit it David tried to fit Tay into the picture he'd created earlier but she seemed impossible to pin down. He was a bit unsure about the joke she had made about Spot and seeing a girl smoke didn't exactly fit into the ideas he had in his head about women in general. If it was possible, he would have said she seemed even less at ease now that her feet were back on solid ground compared to her behavior on the ferry. Tay shifted from one bare foot to the other and her gaze roamed around the room, never really settling on anything. David imagined she might have been just as nervous about being in Spot's room as he was.
"Are you sure you want to do that?" David asked as Tay flicked the used match onto the floor.
"What, smoke?" Tay asked.
"No, I meant take things. From here. I mean, from him. Spot," David stammered. Tay just stared at him and David's cheek grew red. "Maybe we shouldn't be here, that's all I'm trying to say."
"I'm shaking," Tay answered. She tilted her head to one side and took a drag off the cigarette as she sized David up. "If you're so scared, what are you still doing here, Jacobs? It ain't like Race is really expecting you to be here when he gets back and he's ain't gonna be happy anyway."
"Wait, what do you mean?" David was seriously perplexed and didn't know which question to ask first.
"'Cause he ain't gonna be able to find Spot and the only reason he's here is to try and talk about Kelly so if I was you, I'd head back before things get even worse. Hell, Race might not even show back up here. Wouldn't be the first time he left some poor Manhattan bum over here on his own," Tay explained matter of factly.
"Why'd he even bring me then?" David asked.
"You're the one with the brains, ain't you? Word is you've been the one behind the scenes the whole time, so Race probably figured you'd do the talking this time too. Guess he didn't expect there'd be no one here to talk to."
"So where is Spot?"
"Nice try," Tay scoffed as she blew a thin stream of smoke out of the side of her mouth. "It ain't your concern or the concern of any of you Manhattan boys."
The more David thought about it the more he realized there was something not quite right about what Tay was saying. "Why didn't you just tell Race that in the first place? We could have been out of your hair hours ago and no offense, but it seems more likely that Spot would just tell us 'no' himself rather than run off and hide-"
"He ain't fucking hiding," Tay interrupted sharply. "Don't you think you've done enough of Race's dirty work for the day? Why don't you run along back home to Kelly?"
It was clear he'd struck a nerve and David rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably as he looked around the room, noting details that had escaped him earlier. A blue hair ribbon hung over the shattered mirror on the side wall and there was a dress slung over the bed frame. The lid of the trunk that had been shoved into the corner of the room was propped open, revealing bits of paper, a few dime novels, and a hairbrush and mirror set that was similar to the one his sister had but there was little else to lend credence to the idea forming in David's mind.
"This is your room too," David stated as he looked around.
"Well done," Tay replied sarcastically. "No wonder you're the brains of the operation."
"How long have you lived here with him?" David asked, letting his curiosity get the best of him and ignoring Tay's remark.
"Long enough," Tay answered. The unmistakeable bitterness in Tay's voice that led David to wonder if there was much more to Tay's relationship with Spot than he'd figured. David decided that anyone who spent more than a few hours with Spot, let alone shared a room with him, was a person worth knowing. The problem was Tay did not seem to be the kind of person who wanted to be known or even noticed for that matter. She seemed to be trying her best to make herself invisible and David thought about how before he had met Jack Kelly he could certainly relate to that feeling.
"But you're so close to the river," David pointed out. "Race told me –"
"Told you what?" Tay asked, her eyes narrowed.
"Nothing." David gestured vaguely to the long strips of travel advertisements pasted to the walls in a weak attempt to change the subject. "Guess Jack and Spot have that in common. Both of them always want to be somewhere else."
"He didn't put those up. I did. Spot won't never leave Brooklyn. He'd rather die than leave," Tay explained. She picked at the corner of one of the pages before tearing the sheet off and doing the same to three more before she stopped herself. She turned to David and he was taken aback by the pain in her eyes. "Look, I ain't helping you or Race so get lost. Things was bad enough around here and it ain't any better since Jack showed his true colors and turned scab so I got nothing to say to anyone from Manhattan."
"Then why were you there?" David asked. Tay hesitated for a moment and he noticed how her hand began to shake as she lifted the cigarette to her lips.
"I couldn't stay here and watch it anymore, so I left. Running is just easier sometimes. Easier than dealing with him." Tay sighed as she wrapped her arms around herself. "So, what are you running from, Jacobs?"
"This whole thing was Race's idea," David protested. "You heard him this morning, he claimed we needed to go to Brooklyn and here we are. I don't have any clue why. I mean maybe he needed to talk to Spot or maybe he wants to know if Brooklyn is still on strike or it could be some idea about what to do about…" Tay didn't even bat an eye as David found himself unable to even say Jack's name. The sense of betrayal was still too fresh. Her face was neutral as David rambled on, the only movement she made was to flick a bit of cigarette ash onto the floor. David began to wonder if it was some kind of time-honored tradition in Brooklyn to ask a question and then sit there while the other party became so uncomfortable that they just started spilling their guts. Tay wasn't nearly as intense as Spot, but it didn't take much to make David feel uneasy lately. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. "And what do you mean what am I running from? I'm not running. He's the one always leaving, always talking about getting out of here but you don't do that. You don't run from people like that and just expect everyone to understand. I'm not running," David repeated as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.
"Good for you. Now get the hell out."
"But-" David began as Tay pressed him toward the door. She was surprisingly strong for someone so slight. "I'm not going anywhere."
"No offense, Jacobs, but we both know you ain't really the one for standing up to people. All I'm trying to do is save your skin."
"At least I'm not afraid of water," David answered in a low voice. He froze for a second in anticipation of Tay striking him and was surprised to see her laugh instead.
"So you grew a backbone since the last time you was here," Tay grinned. David noted that her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "You oughta step outta Kelly's shadow more often."
"I didn't mean that," David apologized but Tay just shrugged it off. He still felt responsible for allowing himself to give in to the frustration he'd been feeling since Jack's betrayal. David considered that Race might have had exactly that in mind when he came up with the supposed mandatory trip to Brooklyn. Given the Brooklyn newsies propensity towards violence, David could easily see how one might think that would be the best place to go to let off a little steam. He was still mulling over this idea when Tay grabbed him by the hand and practically yanked him out of the room. David stumbled a bit as he tried to keep up and nearly ran into Tay when she stopped just before stepping out into the open area alongside the depot. Their path was blocked by a rather surly looking newsie who not only towered over Tay, but over David as well. His eyes flicked coldly from Tay to David and back again before his face broke into a mischievous grin.
"Well, look what we have here. Guess they was right for once."
"Where is he?" Even as Tay tried to sound forceful, David picked up on the slightest tremble in her voice.
"Relax, sweetheart," the boy answered smugly. "He's still up at the Rose. In the meantime, I brought you a little something."
At first, David had assumed that Tay was concerned about Race's whereabouts but Race arrived behind the boy, pinned between the shoulders of two similarly built thugs and looking decidedly worse for wear than he had when he'd first left Tay and David at the waterfront. Race's nose was dripping blood and his clothes were spotted with dirt and debris.
"What the hell did you do, Finn?" Tay rushed to Race's side but he just twisted away from the two holding him and stormed off toward the docks.
"He's Manhattan and you know the rules," Finn answered coldly. He gestured toward David but Tay stepped in between the two. "Hiding out ain't gonna save him, neither."
"Try it and I'm gonna…"
"Gonna what?" Finn laughed. "We both know you take the beatings, you don't give 'em. And he knows all about the three of you and your little excursion this morning so don't even try to fucking threaten me, doll."
"Don't call me that." Because she was standing in front of him David was unable to see the expression on Tay's face but it was clear the comment had hit its intended target. Tay shoved past Finn and headed in the same direction as Race with David following right on her heels. He had even more questions and with Racetrack back in the picture he thought he might actually start getting some answers.
"Who is at the Rose? Are you talking about Spot? What happened with Race? Who was that guy? What did he mean when he said that whole thing about the three of us?" David asked as he broke into a jog to try and keep up with Tay. She ignored his persistent badgering and scanned the docks. She led him down to where Race stood pacing back and forth, holding the cuff of his shirt to his nose. Tay stopped a few feet away as Race turned and glared at her.
"Thanks for the warning," Race muttered.
"I thought you'd be okay. They ain't never bothered with you before. Finn's just been looking for a way to get back at me since I gave his girl a black eye." Tay told him. She twisted her fingers together nervously and stared at the ground. "Did you see him?"
"No," Race admitted after a moment's hesitation. He looked steadily at Tay but she refused to look at him. "Why didn't you tell me?"
David was at a complete loss and was beginning to feel a bit perturbed about the fact that he was being left out, again. Despite the fact that people kept telling him he was clearly the brains behind the strike they had no trouble having whole conversations in front of him without bothering to tell him what the hell it was about.
"Could either one of you be bothered to tell me what is going on?" David asked and directed his question toward Race as Tay seemed unwilling to answer.
"It's complicated, Dave," Race told him. "The main thing I suppose you gotta know is that Spot put himself on the line when Brooklyn joined the strike. You was at the rally when Spot threw his support behind Jack, saying that anything Jack said was the same as him saying it. Well, Jack turned scab and so there's boys holding Spot to his word. Basically, Spot's trying to keep a lid on this shit and keep his place as leader." Race dabbed at his bloody nose before glancing toward Tay. "You could have told me."
"How was I supposed to know what'd you say about it? It ain't like you haven't been waiting for this day. After all, you was the one who told me it was gonna happen."
"Tay," Race said quietly as he placed his hand on her shoulder. David was used to a very different version of Race's personality so it was surprising to see him treat Tay in such a gentle manner.
"Don't touch me," Tay practically hissed as she shrugged Race's hand away. For a moment David expected to perhaps see tears in her eyes but Tay stared back at Race with such burning resentment that David expected to see Race turn into cinders right there on the dock. "You told me to talk to Spot, you told me that you could do this. That he could do this-" Tay gestured toward David. He took half a step back, quite sure that he did not want to be the next one in the line of fire. "Spot was right, I should have just listened to him."
"I know it hasn't been easy," David tried to say but Tay only scoffed. "I just meant that I understand."
"You understand nothing, David Jacobs," Tay told him. "You come over here with your feelings hurt 'cause Jack Kelly turned out to be a traitor but what are you gonna lose? Nothing. Race'll go right back to fleecing 'em at the poker table and you'll go right back to school while the rest of us is out here rotting. You don't even get it. I was telling the truth earlier when I said Spot would rather die than leave or give all of it up."
Race wiped the rest of the blood off his face in a fierce gesture and glared at Tay as she spoke. David was a bit unsure about the picture Tay had painted. Clearly she was under the impression that Spot was very close to losing Brooklyn and that news was somewhat surprising to David considering the pedestal most newsies seemed to set Spot on. He hadn't really considered the precarious nature of being the leader of Brooklyn, he'd assumed that no one would ever have the nerve to challenge Spot. It seemed that his assumption had been wrong.
"We've all lost things," David pointed out. "Crutchie is in the Refuge, they paid grown men to come after us and now Jack is working for Pulitzer. Everything is going wrong but we can't let this divide us."
"Tell that to him," Tay answered, pointing to Race. "He's the one marching over here to see for himself and acting like he ain't gonna be the first one to celebrate when Spot loses."
"That's not what I came here for. I didn't even know what was going on until I got here," Race told her.
"You used to know," Tay grumbled. "He's been up there for three days, Race and I swear that if he don't get out of it, I'm gonna find Jack Kelly myself."
"That's why you were in Manhattan," David said quietly as he remembered the remark Tay had made earlier about not being able to watch 'it' any longer. Tay was obviously struggling with her feelings about the situation and David understood. He offered a simple apology in the hopes it would ease some of her trouble.
"I'm sorry about all of this but going after Jack isn't going to make things any better-" David had never heard a girl use foul language quite the way Tay did when he mentioned Jack's name. His mouth fell open and he just stared for a moment before collecting himself.
"You gotta understand, Dave, being nice don't work with her," Race explained bitterly. "Spot's got her so twisted up, she don't even see it no more."
"Shut up, Race," Tay told him. She went to step away but Race grasped her by the arm. They stood there for what seemed like an eternity, glaring at one another until Race looked away first.
"This isn't my fault, or Dave's," Race tried to point out but Tay would have none of it. She pulled back from Race but he held tight to her arm. "It ain't your fault, either. No matter what he says, you hear me?"
"Nothing wrong with my hearing," Tay muttered.
Race didn't even show a hint of smiling. "Tell me that you ain't gonna let him pin this on you."
Tay's shoulders fell forward and her whole attitude became defeated and withdrawn as she listened to Race. "Please just go," Tay implored. "You ain't gonna want to be here when he gets back 'cause either way he's gonna be—just go, okay?"
David fought the urge to take Tay's advice right off and head straight for the next ferry out of Brooklyn. He hadn't really wanted to go to Brooklyn in the first place and it was only the idea of facing the problems he'd left behind in Manhattan that had made him hesitant about returning home. Race didn't seem to be at all convinced by Tay's argument and stood watching her placidly while Tay pulled away from his touch to take a seat nearby. The sun was beginning to go down and David felt even more inclined to get out of Brooklyn before night fell. However, it didn't seem as though that would be his fate given that just as he had worked up the nerve to point out to Race that it might, indeed, be time to go, Spot showed up.
