August the 2nd, 1899
The three of them walked out of the World office, not giving away anything. Many Newsies approached to ask their leaders what the result had been, yet they still didn't say a word to them. It wasn't 'till Jack picked up Les and he yelled at the top of his lungs,
"We beat'em!"
That they knew they had succeeded. But hold it right there- that's definitely not where the story begins. It all begins on the top of a bunk bed, next to the window, where this story begins.
July 19, 1899
"Just think-long and hard, conjure her up in your mind. What would she say, what's your… last statement to a cold, uncaring planet?" She wrote down, then looked up.
"That's… good?" She received a kick from the bottom bunk.
"Charlie, for God's sake, go to sleep!" She rolled her eyes, and got off the bunk, going up on the roof, just to continue writing. Charlotte Kelly, also known as Charlie, also known as Ink, also known as Charles, As you may have noticed, she is a girl of many names, but we'll just call her Charlie. Charlie was 'Hattan's leader's little sister, as she was often loved her brother to pieces, but she hated to be called that. She always claimed they didn't look alike at all, but everyone disagreed. In her mind, the only thing they had in common, was their last name, and hair… and eyes… and behavior…. Anyways, it didn't matter when or where, if it was 3 a.m, or if she was in the middle of selling papers, she was always writing.
Sometimes, her brother had to take away the notebook because she hadn't slept the night before because of her writing. She dreamed of being a newspaper woman someday, but the chances were very low. So she created her own secret paper, called 'News of the Newsies', which, if she was lucky, she would publish some day. She knew she had to make a big effort to get there, so she wrote day and night, making new writings, and improving old ones. That's why (most of the time) they called her Ink. At the end of the day, every Newsie has ink in their hands, but not as much as Ink. God knows what she did, but she always, always, had ink in her hands.
"Why ain't ya sleepin?" A voice came from behind her. Without even looking up, she answered.
"I ain't tired." He rolled his eyes.
"Are you evah?" She shrugged and looked up when he sat down next to her. "What's this one about?"
"None of your business." She closed her notebook with a satisfying thump, looking at her brother. Jack pouted. "You'll get to read it later on. I promise. 'Sides, it ain't that good."
"And what makes you think that?" Charlie shrugged.
"I've had them better." Jack chuckled.
"That doesn't mean this one ain't good."
"I never said this one ain't good. Just sayin' I've made better ones." She said. Jack looked up at the star-less sky.
"Maybe it'd be bettah if you slept." Charlie rolled her eyes, fiddling with the thread of what she called her " book separator".
"That'd be easier if I could sleep." Jack nodded.
"True." Jack looked at her. "What was the last time I told you a story?" Charlie laughed.
"You? A story?" She asked. Jack nodded, grinning. "Probably… A thousand years ago." Jack shook his head.
"C'mon. For real."
"A good one? Or another of your messed up ones?" Charlie asked lying down, her back facing him.
"I'll do what I can." He said. "Uh.. the one 'bout the wolf." Charlie laughed.
"The wolf that sneezed so hard he ended up in a pigs house?" Jack laughed, nodding.
"Kay..The girl with the cape?"
"That one in which she ate so much she became as round as a ball and didn't make it to her grandma's house?"
"What about that one with the giants?"
"He planted apple sauce and created a pond filled with apples, a giant came and took over his home. That didn't let me sleep for two nights."
"Ok. I ain't good with stories, no need to remind me." Jack said. "You gotta accept, the wolf one was pretty funny." Charlie nodded, almost able to fall asleep. "The one 'bout-"Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"Shuddup."
He laughed. "Awright. Night Charlie."
"Night, Cowboy."
"Ink's wet, the papers are stacking! Rise and shine, make a dime, no news without Newsies!" Even though Kloppman, the owner of the building, was two floors below, they could hear him loud and clear.
Unlike any other girl, Charlie had never woken up with the hair all over her face, since she had it cut a little below her chin since she had arrived with the Newsies. She tied it in a loose ponytail each morning, when "enemies" were at large (*cough* The Delanceys *cough*), or someone new was coming. And there were rumors someone new was coming, so… Ok. Back to the ponytail. She hid it with a cap, and her name outside the lodge immediately turned from Charlie to Charles, though she preferred to be called Ink. The cap she wore was dark brown, and a little bit too old. Same as her clothes. She was at least the third owner of the white with blue squares shirt, light dark pants and black trousers.
Being a leader ain't an easy job, much less being related to that person. In her life, a little walk could turn into a nightmare if she wasn't careful.
"Morning, Ms. Charlie." Klopman greeted, using her nickname. She smiled. "May I know where your brother is located?"
"He's at the roof, still sleepin'." Klopman nodded, heading for the roof. She walked downstairs, just like any other day, waiting for the boys to come down.. any second.
A few minutes later, Racetrack came down, fuming. Charlie laughed. "That was your cigar?" He nodded. She gave him their cigar. He wouldn't need it, and Jack owned a few to Race. Well, everyone, once in their life, had stolen a cigar from Racetrack. "Don't let'em take it. It's our last one." Race nodded.
"Thanks Ink."
She shrugged. "Welcome." And right after that, a herd of Newsies came running down the stairs. Klopman tried to count them all, very, very hard. They were just too fast, too loud, and moved a lot. She followed after them, walking. She had no reason to run, and her brother was running late.
They arrived to the nuns, just like every other day. Jojo, otherwise known as Josephino Jorgelino de la Guerra, smiled down at them. "What type of bread can I give you this morning?"Charlie laughed.
"Any type, Jo." He handed her a small bread, a normal one, since it was the only type they had, while the other Newsies called other types of bread, which she was sure didn't exist. 'Concrete bread'? She was sure it had never, and would never, exist.
"Why'd you feel that you had to tell Klopman where I'd been sleepin'?" Jack asked from behind her. Charlie grinned.
"He woke you up by yelling?" Jack nodded.
"My left ear will nevah be the same."Charlie laughed. They walked through the streets, a while later getting to the gates.
"Didja hear about the fire?" Blink asked, lighting up a cigar. They all nodded, grinning.
"Heard it killed old man Maguire!"
"Heard the toll was ever higher."
"Why do I miss all the fun?"
"Hitched it on a Trolly."
"Meetcha Forty-Fourth and Second!"
"Little Italy's a secret!"
"Bleecker's further than I reckoned!"
"At the courthouse!"
"Near the stables!"
"On the corner someone beckoned and I-"Charlie stopped right there, looking at the Delanceys, two brothers that tried (and failed) to make their lives miserable. Racetrack grinned.
"Dear me, what is that unpleasant aroma? I fear the sewers may have backed up during the night." They laughed.
"Naw, too rotten to be the sewers." Blink commented. Crutchy nodded.
"Yeah, it must be-"The Delancey brothers!" At this, they laughed even harder when they glared at them.
Charlie smiled. "Hiya boys!"
"In the back you lousy little shrimp!" They grabbed Snipeshooteer throwing him to the ground. Charlie helped Snipeshooter up, glaring at the Delanceys.
"Not good you do that, not healthy." Racetrack said. Jack pulled Charlie behind him.
"You shouldn't be calling people lousy little shrimps Oscar, unless you're talking about the family resemblance between you and your brother here." Jack said. Charlie grinned.
"Five to one the Cowboy skunks them, who's bettin'?" Everyone shook their heads, calling things like 'bum odds'.
The brothers didn't move at the insult,Charlie stood next to her brother. "In case you didn't know, that was an insult." She said, talking slowly, as if the Delanceys wouldn't understand if she spoke at a normal speed. "An insult is a disrespectful remark. Disrespect is the opposite of respect." They laughed, and the Delanceys tried to take off her cap. She hit their hands, rearranging it.
"Talkin' 'bout insults, another example would be- this!" He grabbed both of their hats, running away with them. The Delanceys followed, chasing him around the square… a morning tradition.
While running, Jack bumped into two kids he had never seen before. "What do you think you're doing?" The older one asked. Jack looked behind him, where his sister was trying to hold back both Delanceys.
"Runnin'!" He ran off, and so did the Delanceys. Charlie ran after them, eventually bumping into them too.
"Who are they?" The little one asked. Charlie smiled.
"The idiot who's pickin' on two guys twice his size? That Cowboy, otherwise known as Jack. The two 'lousy little shrimps'? Those are the Delanceys, you should watch out for'em." Charlie explained. The older one nodded.
"And who are you?"
Charlie bit her lip. "Charles. But call me Ink." She said. The old one looked at her warily, as if not to believe a word she was saying. "You?"
Before the old one could speak, the little one squeaked. "Les, and he's my brother, David, he's older." Charlie smiled.
"Nice to meet ya, Les." She looked at David. "Oh, if you're looking for papes, right there." She pointed at the gates, where Jack was hanging from the gates. She chuckled. "If you excuse me, I gotta go make sure Jacky-Boy doesn't get killed." She then ran off to the gates. She passed through the Delanceys, and went to the front of the line, next to her brother.