Morning, cutie.
Mush's sleepy squint disappeared as he stared at the text on his phone, a smile spreading across his face. She actually wrote this? To him?
His hand scrambled for the device, punching letters with his thumb,
Morning, angel. What's the gang doing today?
Feeling fully awake, Mush jumped out of bed, played a Beastie Boys song full volume on his phone, and sang along in the shower. He heard Racetrack groaning in annoyance in the bedroom and laughed.
As he toweled off, he kicked the foot dangling off Racetrack's bed. "Up an' at 'em, sunshine!"
Racetrack groaned, his voice muffled, "Who are ya, my motha?"
"You wish, c'mon we'll be late. Smells like Jack's makin' pancakes...and bacon."
Racetrack lifted his face from his pillow, sniffed, and began emerging from his NHL Islander Hockey blankets. "Well he ain't gonna eat 'em all by himself…"
With his phone in the back pocket of his black jeans playing music, Mush pulled on his work t-shirt and held his boots in one hand as he came around the corner to the kitchen. He smiled when he saw Jack, dressed and ready to go, making pancakes and drinking coffee. Jack's eyes cut to him, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. Mush hadn't seen that in a while.
"How'd ya sleep, Jack?"
Jack's grin grew to a smile as he flipped a pancake, "On me back, Mush."
Mush laughed and bumped Jack's shoulder playfully as he went to the fridge.
"Ya kicked my ass last night, I'm good an' sore today."
"Good! David leave yet?" Mush asked as he glanced at the microwave clock; it was 7:12.
"Yeah, and the guy didn't take a pancake. I'm offended."
"I'm proud a him."
"Me too."
Mush remembered the guys' excitement when Jack made David tell everyone about his new job, back when Kat was painting them up for the party...a moment just to themselves, like old times. Kat screamed with excitement, they all whooped and hollered, and David blushed under his face paint. Jack beamed at the lot of them, like the proud leader that he was.
Mush admired the way Jack kept them together every day, in small ways that actually made a difference...and the guys still did it, here in 2016: They trusted him, and he encouraged each of them individually, like he used to... it always came naturally to him, making them laugh and cutting up, a broad carefree smile on his face, helping them feel better after a tough winter no-pay day. He remembered him walking up and down the bunks at night, chattin' here and there with every newsie. He was quieter in this life, in the city that had grown so much louder. Mush never noticed how observant he was, eyes always looking and watching, aware, even more so now than before. But there was so much more to take in these days. It was hard not to get lost in it all.
Jack may not have known it, but the guys definitely saw it: they weren't a ragged band of Newsies any more, but Jack was still the glue, the one that kept them going. And Mush could see him encouraging each of them to pursue something, anything. Second chances are rare, and Jack saw it first.
One by one the guys shuffled into the apartment, pulling on work boots and long sleeve work t-shirts, mumbling to each other, talking about last nights' hockey games (the only sport they cared about).
Spot shouted to them as he bounded past the open door and down the stairs, pulling up suspenders, "See ya goons later! Race, text me!"
"Gah, where'd it go?!" Racetrack ran around the apartment, throwing pillows and shoving guys out of their seats on the couch. They cursed him through their yawns.
"So Cowboy, how'd the chat go?" Bumlets asked playfully as Jack handed him a platter plate loaded with pancakes and strips of crispy bacon.
"Yeah, we want all the deets, as the kids say," Specs said with a chuckle.
Mush felt his own phone vibrate, took it out of his pocket, glanced down at it -
Business, shopping, eating. (emoji of a high heeled shoe & a taco)
He smirked to himself -
Sounds serious.
Oh, it is. (photo of eggs benedict on a plate on a round kitchen table, girls in background)
Mush saw TIffany and Jade in the background, laughing. He snapped a picture of his bacon wrapped in a pancake, Jack in the background leaning against the counter with his coffee. He knew Honey would show Tiffany, and he smirked with pleasure at his own sneakiness.
About to head to campus, wish you were on it.
Not me. (photo of Honey in the passenger seat of a car, ocean outside the window behind her) You should be here.
What I'd give to sit on a beach for hours with you.
Mush thought for a second before hitting the send button - remembered he was living his second chance.
Honey sent back a small picture - a gif - a blushing bunny from that Disney Bambie movie. He smiled to himself, hearing a smirk in Jack's voice too -
"Maybe I'll tell ya if we gets to work on time for once, old man."
Mush looked up in time to see Jack dodge the pillow Specs threw across the room.
They all laughed, stuffed their faces with pancakes rolled around bacon strips, and clamored down the apartment stairs like a herd of elephants. Boots was waiting for them in his taxi, and David had given Jack the keys to his car; knowing he'd be late trying to find parking, Boots had given David a lift to work.
They jumped around as they piled into the cars, feeling refreshed by the chilly autumn breeze on their faces. Every tree in New York was bright with flaming oranges, reds and golds, leaves falling everywhere. Another beautiful day, and definitely colder. Winter was just around the corner.
"Shotgun!" Mush shouted first, laughing at the guys' curses as Jack started the car.
"If you play that country station again, so help me God I'll puke," Racetrack shouted from the backseat.
"It ain't my car!" Mush laughed as he skipped through the stations, settling on rock.
"No textin' an' drivin', Jackie Boy," Snoddy said with a grin over Jack's shoulder, trying to get a peek at Jack's phone. He tickled Jack's ear, "Technology's pretty fun, eh Jack?"
The guys laughed as Jack jerked away from Snoddy's hand, scowling at his finger, "gotta look at someone bettah lookin' than you, dirt bags."
They all started talking over each other, Mush glanced over just as Jack put the phone down in the cup holder.
"Textin' or not, I'll still miss all the potholes," Jack said with a grin and a wink as he took off in front of Boots.
Laughter filled the car as Jack jerked the car to the right, missing the big pothole outside their apartment, the guys in the back leaning to the sides in the backseat.
Jack laughed at their reflection in the mirror, and Mush smiled at Jack, "'ey you gotta co-pilot, you know - I can text for ya, Jack-"
Jack gave a big laugh, a true laugh, and it seemed to set the tone for the beautiful day.
Their boss, Steve, was drinking coffee outside the dance building when they arrived, a broad smile on his face.
"Well I'll be damned, look who's early!" his deep voice carried over a few students' heads, drawing their attention before they hurried off to class. Wearing a red flannel shirt, Steve strongly resembled a clean cut lumberjack, dark beard and all, well over six feet tall and in work boots. The guys had gone out for beers with him before numerous times, and he drank them all under the table every time. "Mornin' fellas!"
Jack and Steve slapped their hands together, shaking like they always did.
Mush handed him a lidded tupperware box. "Some pancakes an' bacon, boss?"
Steve laughed heartily. "Ah you guys spoil me - c'mon let's do a walk through."
Steve showed them inside, the cool interior and windows offering plenty of light as they walked around a big circular staircase, their footsteps echoing around the open lobby.
Mush glanced at Jack, remembering the day he'd followed Tiffany into here...but Jack was listening intently to Steve, his eyes focused.
"Through those doors," Steve pointed with his coffee to the left, "are the lower seats of the atrium where they have performances, up the stairs are balcony seats, and through here-"
Steve led them past the stairs and down a hall with multiple doors on either side.
"The dance studios. Eight of 'em, built in the eighties. They cleaned 'em all out so we can go to town - we're gonna gut 'em, widen 'em, put new floors in 'em, join a few of 'em, a couple windows and bars here an' there - we're turning eight into four. Should be about two weeks an' some change with the pace you guys keep. Then the electric and paint guys come in. We gotta make sure these are ready for dancers by finals in December. Sound good?"
The guys nodded, their brains thinking of the different tasks to tackle first.
Steve sat down on one of the steps on the staircase and opened the tupperware, taking a big whiff of the pancakes. He smiled pleasantly, like a big bear eager to eat. "You make 'em, Mush?"
"Actually, Jack whipped 'em up this mornin'," Mush smiled as he nudged Jack - Jack looked up from his phone, a smile of his own on his face at whatever text he just received...the guys snickered knowingly.
Steve eyed Jack, his warm eyes glinting. "Ah, aren't we the chipper Betty Crocker this mornin'?"
They laughed, Jack ran his fingers through his hair, trying to hide his grin. "Man's gotta eat."
"Ain't that the damned truth. Alright, fellas, enough bustin' balls - all supplies for demo in my truck on the corner. Hop to it ballerinas!"
"I call dibs on Big Bertha," Racetrack said as he, Mush, Bumlets, Snoddy and Specs approached Steve's black F-350, parked under trees with leaves falling around it. They weaved through students, some girls giggling as they looked away from the attractive construction crew.
Snoddy laughed, "Big Bertha has dibs on your common sense, numb nuts."
"I been usin' Jack's weights," Racetrack said with a devilish grin as he pulled up his sleeves and reached for the biggest sledge hammer in the truck bed. "Bertha an' I are gonna dance."
Specs laughed, "Jus' don't hurt yaself, princess, we got's a hockey game to watch tonight."
Racetrack lifted the hammer, his face a little red as his arms strained under the solid weight. "Go-Island-ers!"
They laughed and teased him all the way back into the building, carrying the supplies between them. They joined Jack and the others in the first studio where they were studying the first wall. The mirrors were clouded and the floors were scuffed from years of dancers practicing; the last two studios at the end of the hall would be the biggest and brightest, with new windows.
Mush handed Jack a sledge hammer. "Ready, Cowboy?"
Jack lifted his eye goggles to his face, grinning. "This is gonna be fun, 'ey fellas?"
The guys stood clear of Jack, his muscles defined under his black t-shirt as he swung - the hammer embedded itself with a dense thud, the wall only made of drywall - but fun nonetheless. The guys eagerly jumped in, spacing themselves.
After a few swings and laughs at the satisfaction of destruction, Mush spoke in between his and Jack's swings.
"Alright - Jack - how'd it go?"
Jack chuckled, slamming his hammer into the wall, dust flying. "Good - she's got - a great laugh."
They dislodged their hammers and waited a moment while Specs and Snoddy picked up the broken wall pieces off the floor, shoving them into a trashcan and smirking at Jack.
"Heard you laughin' too, chuckles," Race teased.
"She's funny," Jack said, smiling to himself. "She loves tacos."
Mush smiled too; hearing Jack talk about a girl...their girl...made him feel hopeful. And he hadn't seen Jack like this since the strike...maybe not even then. He turned back to the wall.
"Tacos, huh? Maybe we should invite 'em over for my tacos. Then she'll never leave!"
Jack laughed as they both went at the wall again.
"That's it?" Specs asked incredulously from behind them, knocking dust off his work gloves. "'s all you got to give us, Cowboy?"
Jack turned and lightly shoved Specs' head, "Whatcha expect me ta tell ya, her shoe size?"
Their laughter filled the room, Jack hit Mush's shoulder with the back of his hand, grinning.
After a few more swings, Mush heard a soberness in Jack's voice, smile gone from his face. "She's actually dealin' with a lot right now… jus' tryin' to give her some space."
"Her mom?" Bumlets asked, his eyebrows furrowed slightly over his dark eyes.
Jack looked up at him. "Yeah. She's selling their house this week, the one she grew up in."
"Sucks," Snoddy offered in condolences.
"You said she's from Cali?" Racetrack asked, then shook his head in appreciation. "That's probably where all the money comes from - her family."
"No idea," Jack said as he took a swing at the demolished wall - he broke through to the other side. "A hell of a contrast from her - former life."
The guys nodded and agreed as they began pushing drywall through with their hands, taking pieces and putting them into the garbage.
"I guess I, uh…"
Mush looked up at Jack's hesitation. He was standing slightly closer, his hands slightly fidgeting on his hammer as he spoke in a low voice to Mush.
"I guess I jus' don't wanna add to her plate, if she were to remember everythin' right now. I don't wanna kickstart it, ya know?"
Mush read his eyes, and saw it bothered him, the thought of the aftermath, the hurt that followed remembering. Especially for Ira…
"But it's not exactly ah... easy to keep away from her, either...you know."
Mush laughed, Jack lightening up. But Mush spoke sincerely. "Jus' play it day by day, ya know?"
Jack nodded, "you're right...rooftop again later?"
"Sounds good."
"How great is it though," Bumlets said to all of them over the swinging of their hammers. "- that she gets to - study dance - at a school - like this?" Bumlets lowered his, wiping his forehead and smiling at Jack. "'s pretty cool."
"And when we're done, you's can say, 'I built this for you, sweetheart!'" Specs crooned.
Bumlets laughed and saw Racetrack over Jack's shoulder, laughed harder. "How ya doin' over there, big guy?"
Racetrack had Big Bertha on the floor, leaning on the handle and trying to catch his breath. His section of the wall was almost through to the other side, but he was out of breath. "Don't... worry about... me...carry on... fellas."
"Your arms are gonna be noodles tomorrow," Specs said, laughing.
Racetrack held up his middle finger, just in time for Snoddy to capture it on his phone.
"Oh this is goin' straight to Spot."
They worked through lunch to get as much started as possible and the day passed quickly. They sat down hard on the steps outside, the wind cooling their sweaty faces instantly as they stretched out their muscles and backs. Steve surprised them with bags in his hands, throwing them to the guys - Philly Cheese Steak sandwiches, Steve's favorite.
Racetrack moaned in thanks, the guys savoring each bite. Steve knew where the best food in the city was.
"Never underestimate the hole in the wall joints," Steve said with a chuckle as the guys inhaled the food. "They always know what they're doin'. Sal's Steaks has been around since the forties."
"Almost older than us," Bumlets muttered under his breath, Mush and Snoddy snickering next to him.
Specs spoke with food in his cheek, "'s the joint next to Medda's favorite place -"
"Wario's," Snoddy said.
"You guys talk about this Medda all the time," Steve said curiously. "Who is she?"
"Kinda like an adoptive moth'ah," Bumlets said first.
"But bett'ah because she's not," Racetrack corrected, the guys laughing. "She's our Mary Martin."
"Damn," Snoddy said. "That was almost poetic, Race."
"'ey, I grew up with musicals," Racetrack muttered, but matter-of-factly.
"She sounds cool," Steve said casually.
"We'll introduce ya," Jack said smoothly, smiling at Steve and then the guys. "She likes the hard workin' type." They laughed again.
They knocked down walls past sunset, the time change speeding up the day, and they shouted good nights to Steve as they parted.
After taking off their boots and smoking joints, they ordered pizzas and shouted at the TV as they watched the hockey game, Spot joining half way through.
"Honey I'm home!" Spot shouted as he opened the door just as the guys all yelled at the TV in unison.
He quickly plopped down between Mush and Racetrack, kicking Specs and Snoddy on the floor by accident. "What'd I miss, what'd I miss?!" He reached for a beer, then a slice of pizza from the box on the wooden coffee table.
Bumlets and Jack were stretched out on the other couch, Boots sitting on the arm rest nearest the TV.
"These refs are blind, that's what ya missed," Racetrack said heatedly. "An' jus' where have you been?"
"Been workin', wifey, calm ya tits." Spot glanced over to Jack, hit his knee in greeting, and noticed Jack's glued gaze to his phone. Spot laughed and checked his own phone...Mush saw Jade had been texting him too.
What a set up, Mush thought to himself.
Mush's phone vibrated at that moment, freaking him a little. He glanced down at the screen.
What are you and the fellas up to this evening?
Watching hockey, bout to go up on the roof for a bit of practice.
Practice?
Mush hesitated.
I like to dance. But nowhere near amazing like you.
You don't know that. You haven't seen me dance yet.
I know, I can't wait to.
After the Islanders lost (and Racetrack's voice filled the entire top floor of their apartment building), Mush and Jack escaped to the roof, sweatpants and sweatshirts for the cold night air. The moon was almost full above them. Mush played his favorite playlist, and Jack watched him for a bit before learning moves from Mush. They laughed and joked, talked about the day and other random things, like they'd done a million times before.
Sweat dripping off their brows and noses, Mush had turned to open the rooftop door when he stopped and looked behind him.
He saw Jack staring up at the moon, still trying to catch his breath, but relaxed. The guy wasn't even shivering. But the Winters he's used to, they're all used to, were colder back then.
"Ya still think about 'im, right?" He asked breathlessly, his voice a little high.
Mush's eyebrows furrowed a little in thought, and didn't speak; he waited for Jack to keep talking. Like encouraging a crab to come out from hiding.
"Kid," Jack finally said as his head dropped a little, an invisible weight lowering onto his shoulders.
Mush felt a pang of his own in his heart. "Yeah. I do."
Jack leaned his head back again, the moon's light washing over his face ever so lightly, his breath clouding the air above him.
Mush waited, and Jack spoke after a few moments. "I've been dreamin' about him more." He turned and met Mush's gaze. "Ever since we saw him in the club."
Mush sighed, "I've dreamt 'im, too."
"I don't wanna treat 'im like he's dead," Jack said seriously. "I know what I said earlier, about - Tiffany remembering. But Kid...he's different."
"I know," mush agreed. "I'm ready for him to come home, too."
Jack looked away again, looking towards the bridge.
"He'd hate it," Jack said firmly. "What he is, he'd hate it. Jus' wanna kick his ass to quicken the process. Maybe I hate seeing him like it...the way he's seen me before."
"You didn't do that for money," Mush said defensively. "You gave in for your brothers, end of story. Same as Ira did... So don't give up on him yet, Jack. Because I haven't."
They stood there on the roof still as statues, Mush's words hanging in the almost silence of early morning in the city. After a moment, Jack turned and followed Mush down the stairs, both of them leaving their troubled thoughts on the roof.
Mush laid on his bed, joint in hand resting on his chest, still damp from his shower. They had music going on the stereo in the living room, but he could still hear Spot and Race yelling at each other over a video game, and he could see David still hunched over the desk next to the front door, his fingers dancing on the keyboard. He came home way after the game, after Specs, Snoddy, Bumlets and Boots left for their beds at two a.m.
"How ya doin', Deputy?!" Mush shouted across the space.
He laughed as David shook his head, his eyes staying locked on his computer. Mush laughed and took another drag.
Because the whole apartment was on the corner of the building, the window in Mush and Race's room had a view of the short building next door and the neighborhood pub just visible over the roof and across the street - the street lamp where Jack had comforted Kat casting the brightest light over the dark street. The inky sky melted away around it, and car lights moved across the ceiling above Mush at intervals, the constant sound of sirens screaming far away.
His thoughts ran away with Kid Blink, Kat...the silent agony they all felt but didn't talk about. He wondered for the millionth time what the end game of all of this way...
He heard Racetrack cussing at Spot, and every now and then -
A smile spread across his face as he heard Jack through the wall, laughing. Really laughing. He was talking with Tiffany again.
He'd been listening to Jack's muffled husky voice for the past thirty minutes, hearing the ease there was between him and Tiffany. He caught words here and there; Jack told her versions of the truth, the way they all did with people "from this era". Their short-lived lives in both the early 20th and 21st left them with more cleverness and the damned headaches.
"Hadn't heard that sound in a while," Spot said as he came into the room, plopping down on Racetrack's bed. His suspenders flopped on the bed loosely, and Mush admired that Spot still dressed a bit like their time - he was still in his button-up shirt and slightly baggy suit pants, but his sleeves were rolled up, and his newest favorite hat was on his head, the one Kat picked out for him. Almost the way he looked on the docks in his turf in 1899.
Spot motioned with his thumb to Racetrack as he came in the door. "I got so tired kicking this one's ass in Mortal Kombat."
Racetrack held up a middle finger as he went to his and Mush's bathroom, "got tired of lettin' you win, ass wipe."
Mush held out the joint to Spot. "'s a good sound, 'ey?"
"No kiddin'," Spot took a drag, leaning against the wall next to Race's bed. "He deserves it...Still, I wonder what these girls are up to, if anythin'." Spot's bright eyes were hard with skepticism. "They seem cool, but the jury is still out. I don't care how gorgeous a woman is."
Spot's eyes darted back and forth for a moment, thinking, "I mean… I enjoy photos as much as the next guy -"
Mush laughed at his friend, "I hope you know you're holding on to a firework."
Spot's eyebrows lifted in appreciation, "Red head man. Don't I know it."
"'s your job to be suspicious," Race shouted from the bathroom. "Spot not suspicious is like Mush's ass not stinkin'."
They heard Jack's laugh again and they laughed too, enjoying the timing.
"She's what I imagine crack to be like," Spot said. "An' I bet Jackie Boy can relate to that with this one..."
"She's crazy about him though," Mush offered. "I know we don't know her, but 's not hard ta see that. It's...different this time."
"She may still be the dish-throwin' kind," Spot said with a warning tone. "I just wanna know more about her dreamin' about him." Spot passed back the joint, his and Mush's hands reaching between the beds. "If that's not divine intervention, I don't know what is."
Mush's phone vibrated on his nightstand just then- a text from Honey.
"Speakin' of love struck individuals," Spot said slyly, smirking at his friend.
"These girls are smart," Mush said as he eyed the screen on his phone. "Not jus' because of the obvious - ya know, bein' of this time period. They've seen stuff. The reading Honey gave David and I -"
"And I'm a skeptic, too!" David shouted from the living room. They laughed.
"I think she really sees stuff," Mush said almost quietly.
"I think the lot of 'em have seen more than what they let on," Spot said cautiously. "Question is, how much will they give up?"
"If we start askin' questions, they'll smell that bullshit from a mile away," Racetrack came back into the room, towel around his waist as he combed his dark wet hair back (Newsies were wicked fast in the shower).
"I jus' wanna know their names, their real names," Racetrack pressed. "I mean, maybe 'cuz they're in school they gotta keep it separate. Pretty positive they'd get kicked out if they knew where they work."
"Good point," Mush said as he passed the joint to Race.
"We know's that rule better than anyone," Spot said. "'Never give your real name'."
"We also know's the other rule," Mush challenged. "'Never fall for a - woman who works at night'."
"Tryin'a be PC are we?" Racetrack teased. Mush threw a pillow at him, Race ducking behind the bathroom door.
"Tryin' to be respectful, numbnuts."
"Have we ever really followed that rule?" Spot said slyly. "I mean, Jack led the way on that one."
They chuckled as Mush unlocked his phone and read Honey's text -
This matchmaker is satisfied and sleepy.
He smirked to himself, typed: We're grateful to ya, miss.
She sent back a winky face.
Good night, angel.
He got a photo in return: she was in bed with her hair wrapped in silk, her beautiful face free of makeup, blowing him a kiss.
He exhaled dreamily, "What have we gotten ourselves into…"
Spot soon left for his room, yawning 'g'nights' to them and rustling David's hair as he went out the door. Racetrack fell asleep hard once his head hit the pillow, soft snores joining the chorus of city sounds outside their window. Mush looked up when he saw David in the doorway.
"So, how'd your first day go?" Mush asked him softly, his eyes gleaming brightly as David yawned.
"So much has changed in the newspaper world," David said with a sleepy grin. "Something unfortunately tells me it's even more crooked than what it used to be."
Mush laughed but his voice was sincere, "'ey, no one shakes down a Newsie, dig?"
David laughed and Mush had to laugh at himself too.
"Yeah, I'll remember that. And, I wanted to tell you..." David thought for a moment, studying Mush's face. "I think it's good of you spending time with Jack, on the roof."
"No one's 'spposed ta know about that," Mush said darkly with a finger pointed at David, but his voice betrayed him, wavering a little.
David laughed, "No, I know. 's just...it's a good distraction, from the obvious...and - I know he misses Kid... We all do."
Mush stared at him in surprise. David looked away after a moment, sadness weighing down his eyes. Mush looked out the window.
"Yeah...he mentioned him earlier," he said after a moment, a little uncomfortable in betraying Jack's trust.
"He says his name sometimes, in his sleep."
Mush looked up, seeing the trouble in his friend's eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck.
Mush's heart ached. "'ey ...it'll be alright. I don't know how, but this has all got to play out somehow."
"Just makes me think about Honey's reading, and who it was meant for…" David shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "You know me, Mush...I'm not one to believe in that stuff. But along with everything else, who am I to say it's hog wash?"
Mush nodded, thinking. The reading had been floating in and out of his thoughts too, her words echoing every now and then: "someone isn't who they say they are".
Mush shivered, "Something tells me we'll find out."
David yawned and Mush laughed, "go ta sleep already, you've gotta be sharp tomorrow."
David thought for a moment, his face wistful. "I'll be the new Denton."
Mush smiled at the name. "Sleep well, Deputy Dave."
David laughed again and disappeared to his room. "Goodnight, my friend."
