Author's Note
.｡｡*ﾟi hope you're staying safe and being kind to yourself! .｡｡*ﾟ
Disclaimer: mentions of violence
Love youuu 💗
𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 ️
HOUSE OF REFUGE, 1897 - WEEK 6
"You ever try to escape?"
Grim studied Jack with a careful expression, as if deciding how to answer in a way that wouldn't be self-incriminating – as if the walls had ears. Even in solitary, where one wasn't supposed to be heard.
He shrugged, shoving a spoonful of stew into his mouth. The cell block of the solitary confinement ward was in the basement of the prison, and it was dead silent. After Dr. Fuller's visit, Snyder thought an example should be made in the name of conduct. Whalen named Grim as the scapegoat. No one was shocked.
Jack volunteered to take Grim's dinner to him, especially if it meant getting out of evening work in the factory.
"I have," was all Grim said in reply from the dim cell. He was sitting against the bars and slumped against a bench next to him, quite accustomed to his surroundings. Jack sat down on the other side, accepting the tray Grim slid under the small opening.
Jack's eyes flashed in surprise and admiration as he shook his head. "Really? When?'
Grim hummed, swallowing the cold broth and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He stared Jack down with a wilted expression. "A year ago. February. We made a break for it."
"We?"
Grim nodded. "Me, Tide, Calico, No Name, and Crazy. They were itching to get out."
"How far did you get?"
"We got caught. Didn't even reach the shore," Grim admitted.
"They hurt you?"
"They always hurt us. Crazy, No Name, and Calico got bread and water for a week. Tide and I, we got sent to Elmira reformatory for a month."
"How did you do it?"
"We were in the washroom, and Mrs. Anderson's back was turned for once. I got this long iron hook from the wall. It was flattened at one end, used for the water pipes or something. Anyway, I put it under my shirt and snuck it into the dormitory and hid it in my mattress," Grim whispered, a small smile on his lips. "A few days later, we were working in the yard, and Crazy got his hands on a club.
"The next night, I slipped the bolt on the door with the hook, and when a guard came along, Crazy threw open the door and struck the guard over the head with the club. It just knocked him down for a minute, long enough for us to tie the guard up with a rope. Then Calico took off the guard's overcoat, gathered the sleeves together, and tied them in a knot over the guard's face – almost suffocating him. Tide was kicking him and going through his pockets, and he was the one who grabbed the keys. We left the building and snuck out through the yard."
Jack looked on in surprise. "But you got caught?"
"I guess the guard freed himself and sounded the alarm," Grim mumbled. "We were hiding out in the swamp at the northern end of the island, behind some bushes. We heard Mr. Whalen yell. It was dark as pitch and too foggy to see. He couldn't see us, but Mrs. Anderson must've told him our names because he called out to each of us. He said, 'Hands behind your backs, single file.' And we got marched back inside."
"What happened to the guard Crazy hit?" Jack asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.
"They had a surgeon come by to treat him. Crazy cracked his head good with the club," Grim smirked, as if proud. "Four deep scalp wounds, reaching the bone. Didn't fracture it though. He needed 28 stitches, but he survived, the bastard."
Jack ran a hand through his soft hair. "What made you want to risk it?" Jack wondered aloud, surprising himself with the question. "I mean…why go through all of that?"
Grim leaned back, running his hands over his face tiredly. He almost looked like he was hiding behind them. When he pulled them away, he shifted his glance all around the room, his eyes wide. "I couldn't take it much longer," he began, crossing his arms.
"Muggs mentioned something about your kid," Jack whispered.
"Mm," Grim sighed, nodding slightly. "Muggs doesn't know as much as he thinks he does. He was just being cruel."
Jack said nothing.
"Eighth time I was here, I had just turned seventeen. I didn't have folks, no one to bail me out," Grim continued in a distant voice. "I thought all I wanted in life was a family of my own. I thought that if I could take care of something that would love me unconditionally, then I would be happy."
Grim averted his eyes. "This girl in another ward – Natalie – we were…well, she got pregnant, and when Snyder found out, I got sent down here for months," Grim chuckled, sadly shaking his head. "When he was born, I only saw him once. Mrs. Anderson brought him down, and seeing him…Jack, he was the sweetest little thing. Had my eyes and everything. But I wasn't allowed to hold him because of these damn bars."
Jack was quietly calm. He just stared at Grim for a moment and nodded.
With tears in his eyes, Grim returned a shaky nod. He leaned in close and whispered in Jack's ear. "Snyder said I was an unfit father, that I couldn't keep him. Said he'd grow up to be just like me, and it was necessary they send him out west to a family that really wanted him," he stammered. "But before they could, he suffocated in his crib. At least, that's what Snyder told me. I didn't even know babies could do that. Mrs. Anderson said he didn't die, that he was sent out west. I don't know what to believe anymore."
Jack stared at the floor. "And Natalie? She was released?"
Grim wrapped his hands around the bars, his bruised fingers shaking a bit. "No, she died having him," he replied quietly. "And I'm responsible. I killed her. It's my fault she's dead." His voice was broken, the sentence robotic and rehearsed, like he'd been told it over and over. Then it was like Grim snapped out of it, giving Jack an honest look. "But you can't let it beat ya."
Jack didn't know what to say. He thought he should apologize, but what exactly would he be apologizing for? And what good would that do? Besides, if that was two years ago, maybe Grim was okay. Maybe, Jack thought, he'd moved on.
But after watching Grim's debilitating reaction to Muggs' comment, Jack wasn't so sure. Perhaps he hadn't quite come to terms with it.
As Jack left the solitary confinement block, he wasn't aching for laudanum for the first time in a while. Instead, he wanted to see Sophie more than anything. He wanted to hug her and hold her and tell her he hadn't abandoned her.
In the dormitory, Jack took a sober look at his fellow inmates. Some were broken, some were scared, some were too sick to feel anything. But the common thread between all of them was rage. They were angry. And if the riot in the dormitory was any testament to what they could accomplish if they all worked together… Well, Jack didn't just see a dormitory. He saw an army.
A few days later, in the factory, No Name slit his wrists again. He'd kept one of the glass shards from when Muggs punched the mirror. He was just standing at his machine, motionless, when Mr. Caldwell yelled for him to get to work. Without a response, Caldwell spun him around to find his lower sleeves soaked in blood.
Jack watched No Name collapse out of the corner of his eye. Then he heard a shaken Caldwell shouting for someone to get Snyder. No one did so. Instead, Doc took off his shirt and began ripping it apart, trying to wrap the cuts tightly as fast as he could. He appeared to be applying pressure, even as blood seeped through the fabric. Tide was talking to No Name, trying to get him to stay conscious. It was chilling to Jack how casual Tide was.
Lion and Crazy helped drag him out of the factory and up to the dormitory, Doc following closely behind in his undershirt, blood staining his hands and fingernails.
Caldwell was appalled. He allowed the boys to leave early so he could report the incident to Snyder.
Jack didn't even flinch. He'd never seen someone do that kind of thing before, but he was already so numb, he didn't have it in him to react.
"That poor son of a bitch," Atlas said to Jack, shaking his head as they filed out of the factory for the day. "That makes three times now."
Muggs must've heard Atlas, because as he passed by, he mumbled, "Third time's a charm."
Jack watched Muggs saunter away, the older boy cackling at Atlas' stunned reaction. He turned to face the two, Alexei looking dazed alongside him. "What? Bet Tide could've done it right," he said with a knowing smirk. "'Least he knows which way to do it."
Jack glared at Muggs as he laughed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "You take that back," Jack spat.
Muggs whipped around, as if not expecting Jack to say anything. He frowned and nudged Alexei who only laughed in delirium. Muggs' dangerous eyes were now fixed on the Manhattan newsie. "Or what? What will you do? You gonna cry to your mommy and daddy?"
Jack sputtered, trying to keep his cool. "I'll… I'll tell Snyder that—"
"You'll tell Snyder what?" Muggs mocked Jack's voice, feigning a panicked expression. He stepped closer to Jack, his face inches from his. "Go on, go ahead, I'm listening."
Jack swallowed. "I'll tell Snyder you're the reason No Name was able to slit his wrists." He held his breath, watching as Muggs' expression didn't change for a few seconds.
Atlas looked like he was about to step in and pull Jack away, when Muggs broke into a slow smirk. "You blackmailing me, kid?" He almost sounded impressed.
Jack felt cold sweat inch down the back of his neck, his face paling. "Yeah," was all he managed.
His tattooed arm shot out, and Muggs grabbed Jack's jaw in his hand, squeezing it. "You ain't scared of me?" Muggs asked, his voice lowered.
Jack froze, his jaw aching in Muggs' grip. More than anything, the crazed look in Muggs' eyes made his blood run cold. "No," Jack said, keeping his voice even. It took everything he had not to shake.
At that moment, Mrs. Anderson emerged into the corridor, ushering the boys along. Though she'd been moved to a different ward, Jack still saw her differently after what Grim had told him.
Muggs looked puzzled at Jack's response, tilting his head sideways. Then he smirked again, his teeth coming into view. The smile looked strained, forced, ghoulish – like someone who was trying to smile for the first time but had nothing with which to reference. "You're a better liar than the rest of 'em, kid," he replied, releasing his grip on Jack's jaw, and patting the side of his face twice. "Use that."
He snickered at Jack's slightly alarmed expression, backing up and flashing another dead-eyed smirk.
"Matthew Tracey, bite your tongue," Mrs. Anderson boomed, watching Muggs from over her clipboard. "I've had Snyder send one boy to solitary this week, and I won't hesitate to put you there as well."
"Promise?" Muggs fired back, rolling his eyes.
Mrs. Anderson set her clipboard down, pointing a finger at Muggs. "Why don't you behave, young man!"
"Why don't you blow me, again!" Muggs shouted, almost immediately being shoved into the wall by Mr. Whalen who'd just arrived on scene.
He threw Muggs into the wall twice more, drawing the attention of younger inmates who were being led from the schoolroom, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes.
Jack flinched as Whalen seemed to break Muggs' nose in one swing. He brought Muggs back and threw him against the wall again. Muggs was laughing, blood pouring from his nose and down his lips as Whalen continued to beat him.
"That all you got, old man?" Muggs asked sarcastically, blood in his teeth. "I've taken a worse beating from my mother!"
The younger inmates snickered and whispered to one another, shrieking as Whalen belted Muggs across the face again, trying to get the boy to fall over in vain. Their teacher came out and quickly shepherded them along, pulling them away from the spectacle.
Z shook his head, turning to a few of the children. "Don't be like him."
Jack walked by quickly, blending into the line next to Cards and Shakespeare. Muggs' maniacal laughter faded out behind him as Jack ascended the steps.
Muggs wasn't sent to solitary after all. Jack supposed Snyder didn't think it would be effective. Grim, however, could return to the dormitory.
He was concerned to find No Name's wrists bandaged up, but not at all shocked. Doc had kept one more alive, once again, even if only for another day.
"I'm doing alright, ain't I?" No Name asked Grim, happy to see his old friend out of solitary. "Didn't mean to do it. They told me to. I just wanted them quiet," he said, pointing to his ear. "But Doc, he said they don't get to tell me things like that."
Grim nodded sadly, sitting on No Name's bed. "Doc's right," he replied, inspecting the blood-soaked fabric fastened on either wrist. "You look good, though. Better keep those bandages on, yeah?"
"Yeah," No Name said with a quick shrug. It almost looked like a flinch to Jack, like something bit him.
"He didn't always used to be like that, you know," Tide mumbled to Jack as they watched from the other side of the dormitory. "This place made him ten times worse. Whatever was wrong with him before... it's nothing like it is now."
Jack glared at the floor, about to say something when Mr. Whalen barged in for bed checks. After he tied their hands to the bedframes, he locked them door behind him, leaving them in complete darkness.
Jack fell into a deep sleep, with the sounds of seventeen boys around him. A couple were loud sleepers, snoring and tossing about. A few called out in their sleep. Calico, still sick, coughed throughout the night. No Name cried periodically, deep horrid wails that grew louder. No one could get up to console him. His cries would cease before beginning again.
Jack's dreams were filled with cries, but in the dreams, they were cries of joy. He dreamed he was at the lodging house with old friends, goofing around, filling their stomachs with Tibby's leftovers. Swinging Sophie around like they were little again.
But a long, peaceful dream was impossible.
A wild yell tore into the night. In seconds, the dormitory was awake. A wave of panic swept the prone bodies, whipping them into a frenzy. Senseless shouts, followed by sounds of rattling in the dark.
"Smoke!" someone shouted. "There's a fire!"
Jack opened his eyes to the smell of something burning, finding the dormitory clouded in a haze, the sounds of coughs filling the air. Most alarming were the flames engulfing the locked door. His eyes grew wide as he struggled to move, realizing his hands were bound.
A spout of curses and cries echoed from the other side of Jack, toward the other end of the room. Flames spread near the beds closest to the door. Muggs and Atlas cursed as they watched the edges of their sheets catch fire. Atlas was by far more scared than Muggs, who simply looked enraged. He was cussing like a sailor at Warden Snyder, Mr. Whalen, and God, while Atlas prayed to the latter in hurried Italian.
Jack coughed, a rush of fear and anxiety overtaking his mind, as he watched the others struggle. All thoughts of laudanum disappeared.
Tide was staring at the flames, hypnotized, like it was a dream. Alexei was fading in and out of consciousness in the next bed over, his face pale. He'd been having trouble with his lungs for a while now, and without much medical attention, his respiratory health just deteriorated.
"I can't get out!" Jack yelled as he pulled at his ropes, much to the boys' collective horror as they pulled hard at their binds, shouting profanities.
Muggs fought wildly against the restraints to no avail. The flames were on his blanket, which he kicked off the bed, burning his toes in the process. He growled, throwing his head back, his eyes closing in pain.
Meanwhile, Atlas slammed his leg on the bed as the edge of trousers caught fire. He screamed, trying to put the fire out on his leg. He managed to do so but continued crying out in shock.
As if all having the same idea at once, the boys yelled for help at the top of their lungs. They pulled on the restraints, screaming, coughing, and rubbing at their glazed eyes with their arms. They shook the beds so the frames hit the walls and banged the floor, making as much noise as possible.
Fire crept up the side of Muggs' bed. After a second of quick deliberation, Jack observed, Muggs pulled his bound wrists as close as he could to the flames. The others watched in dismay as the flames caught part of his hands and the rope. Muggs groaned through grit teeth but looked on with determination as the fire cut through the rope.
"Jesus fuck...goddammit, son of a bitch...fuck!" Muggs was seething as his hands caught fire. The rope came apart, and he at once slammed his burning hands on the pillow, putting out the flames. Jack couldn't see how bad his burns were. He was in shock and in awe at Muggs' actions.
Lion shook his head, pausing from struggling against his own restraints, having watched. "Madonna santa." He met Jack's similar look of disbelief. "I told you he wasn't playing with a full deck!"
Muggs forced himself to stand. He stumbled over to Atlas, cursing the whole way. He grabbed the part of the blanket that was half on fire and raised it to Atlas's hands as Atlas frantically protested.
"Shut up!" Muggs shouted.
Flames caught the ropes around Atlas' wrists, tearing through. Atlas broke the ropes and threw his wrists against the mattress to shake the remaining flames.
Jack felt his heart quicken in beats as he realized what he had to do. The others came to the same conclusion, knowing Muggs and Atlas couldn't untie everyone fast enough. Others who slept near the door angled their wrists toward the flames as it crept along the walls, singeing their fingers, forced to watch until the rope came apart.
A flaming beam fell from the ceiling, having been eaten by the fire, crashing to the ground in the middle of the rows of beds, missing a few of the boys. They watched the flames from the beam creep outwards toward their beds, speeding up the time it would've taken.
By sheer luck and determination, all eighteen of them had been freed from the binds, scorched fingers, and all. But they had nowhere to go. No other door.
The broken window on the opposite end of the room was a possibility, but it didn't have a fire escape, nor did any of the other windows. Grim and Tide found that tried hard enough, they could kick out the three rusted bars that lined the broken window.
The thought of jumping crossed Jack's mind. It made him sick to his stomach. What would happen to Sophie? Who would take care of her if he died?
The sound of distant glass shattering jolted him.
"Hey!" A girl's voice called from outside the window. "Hey, are you okay?"
Jack looked out the broken window, searching for the source. A few others joined his side.
"Fire!" Jack shouted. "We can't get out!"
The girl's hands were wrapped around the bars of her window, having kicked out the glass seconds before. "We thought there was smoke," the girl said, and Jack could hear others scrambling about. "How can we help?"
"Take out the bars!" Jack yelled, an idea forming. "They're old. Just kick them out!"
He watched as several boots tried kicking at the bars until they fell to the ground below.
"We got it!" The same girl yelled, leaning over to reveal herself. Several others peered out behind her in a panic.
"Oh my," another girl mumbled as she saw the smoke pouring out of the boys' window.
"We're coming over!" Jack yelled, gesturing with his head toward the narrow ledge. Grim glanced over the two-feet-wide edge, looking like he'd prefer the flames.
"I can't," Grim muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I can't do it."
Jack turned to him, seeing the look of debilitating dread in the older boy's eyes. He was afraid of heights. "Grim, you have to," Jack replied.
Grim didn't say anything. Tide threw a hand on his shoulder, reassuring his best friend. "I'm not going across that ledge without ya."
"Right, let's go!" Jack yelled to the others.
Cards and Lion were first. They stepped out onto the ledge, gripping the along the wall as best they could, trying not to look down. Cards kept urging Lion to move faster, but Lion insisted on stopping every two steps, closing his eyes, and shouting for Cards to stop rushing him.
The others held their breath as they watched. Muggs was next, and Lion reached out from the girls' window to help him the rest of the way, which Muggs surprisingly accepted. Shakespeare and Z helped an injured Atlas across, and Fleet and River half-carried, half-dragged Alexei, his lungs near to failing him.
Crazy and Doc steadied Rails who was close to fainting from the smoke. "Come on, Rails, stay with us!" Crazy was yelling over the roar of the flames.
Marquette was rambling a prayer over and over in French, kissing the cross around his neck and bracing himself for his turn. He stepped out onto the ledge after No Name, who had completely shut down.
Grim and Tide slung Calico's arms around their shoulders, as he was too sick to keep his balance. He was nearly unconscious, coming to once he reached the other side, confused and shaking.
Jack was the last one. He made it out the window, flames eating the beds behind him.
The girls in the dormitory helped the boys out their open door and down the stairs. A few guards were alerted to the fire, searching for pales of water to put it out. But it was too late.
The building had to be evacuated. A handful of Warden Snyder's staff fumbled with their keys to unlock certain doors to free inmates, while the rest simply ran out of the building.
Cowards, Jack thought. He and the others directed frightened younger kids to the way out. Jack took the hand of one little girl who was screaming, clutching a ragdoll to her chest with her other hand. She dropped it as they hurried and was about to pick it up when Jack gave her a tug.
"Come on, Sophie! We have to go!" He pulled her along without her doll, not even realizing he'd called the little girl his sister's name.
A crowd of children stood outside in the cold, staring as the flames spread to other parts of the Refuge. There was no sign of Warden Snyder, and Jack hoped he was trapped inside, burning to death.
The boys, covered in soot and smoke residue, stared dumbfounded at the fire, knowing they all could've been killed. Grim walked around, checking on them, making sure they'd made it out. They stood in the rear yard as they watched the staff scramble to extinguish the fire. Three firemen stationed on the island pulled out the local engine and soon had a line of hose running up through the building.
From outside, Jack could see the Refuge in all its ominous glory.
The building was about five hundred feet front, facing the Harlem river and extending at the rear end of the sound. It stood four stories high, with towers at the two front corners and over at the main entrance. In each of the towers was a tank with thousands of gallons. At the northern end, from the ground floor to the roof under the tower, were the guards' quarters, and between that and the center of the building on all four floors were dormitories. Under the center tower and from the ground floor to the top of the building, Warden Snyder and his wife had their apartments.
The smoke looked like it was curling from the northern end of the building. It came from a small attic where old desks used to be stored.
Doc was alternating between inspecting Atlas' leg, which looked worse than it was in the darkness, and Muggs' hands and toes that had caught the worst of the flames.
"Will they be alright?" Jack asked Doc.
"They will," Doc said, wrapping the injuries with shreds of cloth torn from his own undershirt. He'd dabbed the fabric with water from a near-empty fire pale and pressed it against their wounds. "But they need a salve, or it'll get worse. We need to submerge the burns in water."
A carriage pulled up next to the boys, pulling a large Bellevue Hospital wagon. Dr. Fuller and Commissioner Roosevelt stepped out of the carriage in alarm. Fuller was dressed in his crisp, white uniform, though Roosevelt looked as though he'd been roused from sleep and gotten dressed in a hurry. "Were there any others injured beside the boys in your ward?" Roosevelt asked Jack, glancing around at the crowd of unharmed but shaken children.
One of the guards must've gone across the river for assistance. Hook and Ladder company number 14 arrived with thirty policemen, and they made their way to the burning building.
Jack shook his head, too shocked to say anything. He realized the little girl still hadn't let go of his hand.
"The police will want to talk to you about what happened, I imagine," Roosevelt said, opening the back of the wagon.
Fuller ushered them inside. "No matter. What's important is that you're safe. It's a quick ferry ride across the river. You'll have the best care at Bellevue, I can assure you."
The girl who'd helped them into the dormitory slipped her hand into the little girl's other one, easing her away from Jack.
He met her gaze, and she returned it with a soft smile, tears in her eyes. "Thank you," Jack said, fumbling for words. "Jack Kelly."
"Colleen Tracey," she called over her shoulder.