Misprint was walking down a street in Brooklyn when she heard the sound of fighting coming from a nearby alley. She quickly darted into the alley to see two older well-dressed boys soaking a younger boy dressed as a newsie. The older boys had on clean clothes and bowler hats, they looked much like the hoity toity rich people she always passed on the streets. The taller one had black hair and brown eyes that gleamed devilishly as he twisted the young boys foot. The shorter of the two had brown hair and blue eyes, he was holding the small boy so his friend could beat him. The sight of this infuriated Misprint bringing back memories from her childhood.
"Din't your mudda evah tell ya to pick on someone ya own size?" Misprint asked while glaring daggars at the two boys.
"Johnny look at this little guy, he thinks he can beat us up!" the taller one, Mike, exclaimed.
"I think we should teach him to mind his own business," Johnny said grinning wickedly while pulling out a pair of brass knuckles, and placing them on his hand.
Smiling to herself at the boys mistake she drops her bag and prepared to fight. Misprint watched as the two boys circled her looking for a weakness in her two opponents. Mike started to move forward drawing Misprint's attention and as she moves to defend herself from Mike, Johnny punches her in the jaw. Backing up Misprint quickly kicks Johnny in the stomach, and as he doubles over clutching his stomach she punches him in the temple knocking him out.
The little boy the two had soaked saw Mike moving in to hit Misprint and tried to warn her, "'Ey look out!"
Misprint turns around in time for the fist to connect with her right eye. Startled she stumbles to the ground where she swept Mike's legs out from under him. With Mike on the ground Misprint jumps up and kicks him in the stomach repeatedly. Satisfied that the two would leave her alone she checked to make sure her hair had not fallen out of her hat, and went to go check on the younger boy.
"'Ey you'se awright?" she asked offering him a hand up.
"Yeah t'anks. Da name's Scrap," he spit into his hand and held it out to her.
Misprint followed his example and spit into her own "Misprint. Can you'se walk awright? Ya need some 'elp?" she asked as she noticed the boy favoring his left foot. He had strawberry blond hair and hazel eyes, he was only a couple inches shorter, but by the looks of him several years younger. From the boys appearance she guessed she stopped the fight before too much damage was done, he only had a few bruises and a limp.
"Yeah I'se fine it's just a li'l sore, I'se just goin' ta da docks."
"'Ere lean on me I'se'll walk wit' ya." Misprint put Scrap's arm over her shoulder and supported him as they walked to the docks.
While walking out of the alley she noticed the two older boys were missing, she smiled to herself, 'Maybe dey'll t'ink twice 'fore messing wit' li'l kids again. Dey's too scared to pick on someone half der size when 'e's got someone to 'elp 'im,' she shook her head slightly. 'Nothin's more pathetic den pickin' on li'l kids,' she thought with disgust.
***
Spot was sitting on top of a pile of crates watching his newsies when Marbles came running up. "Spot, Scrap jus' got 'ere wit anudda guy dey's bot' got soaked."
Spot jumped down from his crate and walked over to Scrap. Scrap was leaning on a guy at least a head shorter than Spot with a hat, a faded blue shirt, and coal gray pants, the guy had a bruise on his jaw and his eye was swollen shut with a slight cut where what must have been brass knuckles connected. Scrap didn't look too much better, he had a bloody lip, a welt on his forehead and a slight limp. "What 'appened 'ere?" Spot demanded.
"Mike and Johnny jumped me, Misprint 'ere stopped 'em 'fore dey really got started."
Spot nodded, and motioned for Marbles to take Scrap. Relieved of her burden Misprint turned to leave, "'Ey kid, where ya going'?" Spot called out.
Misprint turned around "Da name's Misprint, not kid." She spit in her hand and extended it to Spot.
Spot followed suit, and smirked, "I'se Spot Conlon. So where ya 'eaded?"
Misprint shrugged, "don't know."
"Awright lissen, dose two ya soaked'll pro'ly come afta you'se now, so ya wanna stick 'round 'here fer a while?" Misprint nodded. "Great you'se start afta lunch, we'se goin' ta Benny's."
"Start what?"
"Selling papes a coise. 'Ow else ya gonna make money?" Misprint nodded her approval as they walked to Benny's, Scrap leaning on Marbles the whole way.
When they got there Spot, Misprint, Scrap, Marbles, and a few others sat in a booth, and ordered Cokes and sandwiches. When the Cokes got there Misprint pulled the ice out of her glass. "Scrap, lemme see ya foot."
Scrap moved his leg onto Misprint's lap where she applied the ice. "Keep dat on your foot fer a while and it'll be fine. Don't put anyt'ing on yer face dough dat bruise will be great fer guiltin' people outta der money," Misprint said with a slight smile, while most of the boys laughed.
Spot observed this scene with interest. There was something different about this kid, he didn't act like the other guys and he was hiding something, and Spot was determined to find out what.
By the time lunch was over Misprint got to know several of the guys, Scrap's foot was much better, and he was sporting a nice bruise on his cheek. Although Misprint was also had a couple obvious bruises her eye had swollen shut and she had a decent size welt on the jawline of her cheek.
After paying the bill all the newsies filed out of the restaurant with Spot in the lead. On the way to the distribution office Spot pointed out where the Lodging House was "In case ya get lost."
***
"'Undred papes fer me and fifty fer me friend 'ere," Spot said slinging an arm around Misprint's shoulder.
Misprint smiled, she could get used to this. Spot seemed like a great guy, sure he was full of himself,but what guy isn't? It's also nice having people around who actually seem to care, when she couldn't even get this kind of attention at home. Spot was the one that really drew her attention with that great smile and that charm… 'What am I t'inking I'se supposed ta be one of da guys, I can't stawt drooling ova Spot,' Misprint berated herself.
Spot gathered the papes and gave fifty to Misprint. "You'se selling wit' me 'til you'se get da 'ang of it." As they walked out of the distribution alley Spot saw their first potential customer. An older woman from the upper class with grayish-white hair. "Lessee 'ow ya sell one ta dat ole lady ova dere."
Misprint and Spot walked over to the woman, "'Scuse me ma'am, would ya like ta buy a pape?"
A look of disgust cross the woman's face and Spot was struggling to suppress his laughter. "No thank you."
Misprint pouted a little, "Please ma'am if I don't sell 'em me fadda will beat me again," she said while turning her head so the lady could get a better view of her bruises.
The woman finally took notice of the bruises adorning Misprint's face and gasped, she reached for her purse and silently held out a penny.
"T'ank ya ma'am, God bless ya," Misprint said with a smile as she walked away. "So, 'ow was dat?" she asked with a little pride.
"Not bad fer your foirst time, try 'awking da headline now."
Misprint scanned the pape looking for an article with potential. 'Trash fire gets out of hand' caught her eye and a slight smile crossed her face when she cried out, "'Uge fiah, police suspect awson!" Dozens of people flocked to both her and Spot to buy a pape
"Dat's really good. You'se sell b'fore?"
"Once or twice when I was in Harlem."
Spot raised an eyebrow at this piece of information. 'Wha was 'e doin' in Harlem?'
Despite the questioning look Spot gave her they continued to sell without too many questions. They finished selling in record time and headed to the Lodging House so Misprint could get settled. Once they got there Misprint took the bunk over Scrap's and watched as the boys played poker throughout the night.
She watched the boys judging their reactions to the different hands they had. 'If I'se gonna be 'ere fer a while I'se gonna 'afta play dem in poka, might as well know when I'se should fold.' Most of the boys hinted at their type of hand by the look on their faces. Some of the boys with bad hands would shift in their seats, while others struggled to suppress smiles at the good hand.
***
The week had gone by quickly for Misprint, everyday the same routine. Most of the time she sold with Spot, but she sold with Scrap once or twice over the past week. She was selling as many papes as Spot now and sometimes even finishing before him. Today she and Spot were selling together about two blocks from the docks.
Misprint's eye had healed and there was only a faint bruise still visible. Spot was growing suspicious of her actions and behavior though. 'He' was up and ready before the guys got up and refused to go swimming, even when the tempetures reached the high 80's. 'He' treated the younger boys with care and always made sure they ate. Spot just couldn't shake the feeling that something was different about 'him'.
Today when Spot and Misprint had finished selling early they went to the docks to wait for the others. "I'se ain't nevah seen ya fight," Spot stated. "'Ow do I know you'se can 'old yer own?"
"I'se beat Johnny and Mike when I foirst got 'ere."
"Yeah but dat coulda been luck." Spot stood up, "come on you'se gonna fight me now."
Misprint smirked, "whatevah ya say Spot, jus' don't 'old back." Spot grinned at the statement and with that the fight began.
The mock fight continued for ten minutes with neither one gaining the advantage. Misprint was mostly on the defensive not wanting to hurt one of her friends, she tried to stick to blocking and dodging and when she would hit him she aimed for a spot that wouldn't hurt too much. She was dodging a punch Spot aimed at her face when she jumped back to the edge of the dock. Losing her balance Misprint fell in with a loud splash. Spot and the boys who had gathered around to watch, burst out laughing at the sight.
When Misprint surfaced the laughter stopped and was replaced by looks of anger and shock. Her hat had fallen off when she fell in the water and her shoulder-length curly blond hair was clearly visible. And as she climbed out of the water and onto the docks several of the older boys also noticed how her drenched shirt now clung to her like a second skin.
"We need to talk, NOW," Spot nearly shouted. Misprint cringed and followed Spot in the direction of the Lodging House, blushing as she heard the cat calls directed at her retreating back.
*******
End of part 1 please email me @ lisaj101@hotmail.com with suggestions, comments, flames, or ideas for what should happen next.
"Din't your mudda evah tell ya to pick on someone ya own size?" Misprint asked while glaring daggars at the two boys.
"Johnny look at this little guy, he thinks he can beat us up!" the taller one, Mike, exclaimed.
"I think we should teach him to mind his own business," Johnny said grinning wickedly while pulling out a pair of brass knuckles, and placing them on his hand.
Smiling to herself at the boys mistake she drops her bag and prepared to fight. Misprint watched as the two boys circled her looking for a weakness in her two opponents. Mike started to move forward drawing Misprint's attention and as she moves to defend herself from Mike, Johnny punches her in the jaw. Backing up Misprint quickly kicks Johnny in the stomach, and as he doubles over clutching his stomach she punches him in the temple knocking him out.
The little boy the two had soaked saw Mike moving in to hit Misprint and tried to warn her, "'Ey look out!"
Misprint turns around in time for the fist to connect with her right eye. Startled she stumbles to the ground where she swept Mike's legs out from under him. With Mike on the ground Misprint jumps up and kicks him in the stomach repeatedly. Satisfied that the two would leave her alone she checked to make sure her hair had not fallen out of her hat, and went to go check on the younger boy.
"'Ey you'se awright?" she asked offering him a hand up.
"Yeah t'anks. Da name's Scrap," he spit into his hand and held it out to her.
Misprint followed his example and spit into her own "Misprint. Can you'se walk awright? Ya need some 'elp?" she asked as she noticed the boy favoring his left foot. He had strawberry blond hair and hazel eyes, he was only a couple inches shorter, but by the looks of him several years younger. From the boys appearance she guessed she stopped the fight before too much damage was done, he only had a few bruises and a limp.
"Yeah I'se fine it's just a li'l sore, I'se just goin' ta da docks."
"'Ere lean on me I'se'll walk wit' ya." Misprint put Scrap's arm over her shoulder and supported him as they walked to the docks.
While walking out of the alley she noticed the two older boys were missing, she smiled to herself, 'Maybe dey'll t'ink twice 'fore messing wit' li'l kids again. Dey's too scared to pick on someone half der size when 'e's got someone to 'elp 'im,' she shook her head slightly. 'Nothin's more pathetic den pickin' on li'l kids,' she thought with disgust.
***
Spot was sitting on top of a pile of crates watching his newsies when Marbles came running up. "Spot, Scrap jus' got 'ere wit anudda guy dey's bot' got soaked."
Spot jumped down from his crate and walked over to Scrap. Scrap was leaning on a guy at least a head shorter than Spot with a hat, a faded blue shirt, and coal gray pants, the guy had a bruise on his jaw and his eye was swollen shut with a slight cut where what must have been brass knuckles connected. Scrap didn't look too much better, he had a bloody lip, a welt on his forehead and a slight limp. "What 'appened 'ere?" Spot demanded.
"Mike and Johnny jumped me, Misprint 'ere stopped 'em 'fore dey really got started."
Spot nodded, and motioned for Marbles to take Scrap. Relieved of her burden Misprint turned to leave, "'Ey kid, where ya going'?" Spot called out.
Misprint turned around "Da name's Misprint, not kid." She spit in her hand and extended it to Spot.
Spot followed suit, and smirked, "I'se Spot Conlon. So where ya 'eaded?"
Misprint shrugged, "don't know."
"Awright lissen, dose two ya soaked'll pro'ly come afta you'se now, so ya wanna stick 'round 'here fer a while?" Misprint nodded. "Great you'se start afta lunch, we'se goin' ta Benny's."
"Start what?"
"Selling papes a coise. 'Ow else ya gonna make money?" Misprint nodded her approval as they walked to Benny's, Scrap leaning on Marbles the whole way.
When they got there Spot, Misprint, Scrap, Marbles, and a few others sat in a booth, and ordered Cokes and sandwiches. When the Cokes got there Misprint pulled the ice out of her glass. "Scrap, lemme see ya foot."
Scrap moved his leg onto Misprint's lap where she applied the ice. "Keep dat on your foot fer a while and it'll be fine. Don't put anyt'ing on yer face dough dat bruise will be great fer guiltin' people outta der money," Misprint said with a slight smile, while most of the boys laughed.
Spot observed this scene with interest. There was something different about this kid, he didn't act like the other guys and he was hiding something, and Spot was determined to find out what.
By the time lunch was over Misprint got to know several of the guys, Scrap's foot was much better, and he was sporting a nice bruise on his cheek. Although Misprint was also had a couple obvious bruises her eye had swollen shut and she had a decent size welt on the jawline of her cheek.
After paying the bill all the newsies filed out of the restaurant with Spot in the lead. On the way to the distribution office Spot pointed out where the Lodging House was "In case ya get lost."
***
"'Undred papes fer me and fifty fer me friend 'ere," Spot said slinging an arm around Misprint's shoulder.
Misprint smiled, she could get used to this. Spot seemed like a great guy, sure he was full of himself,but what guy isn't? It's also nice having people around who actually seem to care, when she couldn't even get this kind of attention at home. Spot was the one that really drew her attention with that great smile and that charm… 'What am I t'inking I'se supposed ta be one of da guys, I can't stawt drooling ova Spot,' Misprint berated herself.
Spot gathered the papes and gave fifty to Misprint. "You'se selling wit' me 'til you'se get da 'ang of it." As they walked out of the distribution alley Spot saw their first potential customer. An older woman from the upper class with grayish-white hair. "Lessee 'ow ya sell one ta dat ole lady ova dere."
Misprint and Spot walked over to the woman, "'Scuse me ma'am, would ya like ta buy a pape?"
A look of disgust cross the woman's face and Spot was struggling to suppress his laughter. "No thank you."
Misprint pouted a little, "Please ma'am if I don't sell 'em me fadda will beat me again," she said while turning her head so the lady could get a better view of her bruises.
The woman finally took notice of the bruises adorning Misprint's face and gasped, she reached for her purse and silently held out a penny.
"T'ank ya ma'am, God bless ya," Misprint said with a smile as she walked away. "So, 'ow was dat?" she asked with a little pride.
"Not bad fer your foirst time, try 'awking da headline now."
Misprint scanned the pape looking for an article with potential. 'Trash fire gets out of hand' caught her eye and a slight smile crossed her face when she cried out, "'Uge fiah, police suspect awson!" Dozens of people flocked to both her and Spot to buy a pape
"Dat's really good. You'se sell b'fore?"
"Once or twice when I was in Harlem."
Spot raised an eyebrow at this piece of information. 'Wha was 'e doin' in Harlem?'
Despite the questioning look Spot gave her they continued to sell without too many questions. They finished selling in record time and headed to the Lodging House so Misprint could get settled. Once they got there Misprint took the bunk over Scrap's and watched as the boys played poker throughout the night.
She watched the boys judging their reactions to the different hands they had. 'If I'se gonna be 'ere fer a while I'se gonna 'afta play dem in poka, might as well know when I'se should fold.' Most of the boys hinted at their type of hand by the look on their faces. Some of the boys with bad hands would shift in their seats, while others struggled to suppress smiles at the good hand.
***
The week had gone by quickly for Misprint, everyday the same routine. Most of the time she sold with Spot, but she sold with Scrap once or twice over the past week. She was selling as many papes as Spot now and sometimes even finishing before him. Today she and Spot were selling together about two blocks from the docks.
Misprint's eye had healed and there was only a faint bruise still visible. Spot was growing suspicious of her actions and behavior though. 'He' was up and ready before the guys got up and refused to go swimming, even when the tempetures reached the high 80's. 'He' treated the younger boys with care and always made sure they ate. Spot just couldn't shake the feeling that something was different about 'him'.
Today when Spot and Misprint had finished selling early they went to the docks to wait for the others. "I'se ain't nevah seen ya fight," Spot stated. "'Ow do I know you'se can 'old yer own?"
"I'se beat Johnny and Mike when I foirst got 'ere."
"Yeah but dat coulda been luck." Spot stood up, "come on you'se gonna fight me now."
Misprint smirked, "whatevah ya say Spot, jus' don't 'old back." Spot grinned at the statement and with that the fight began.
The mock fight continued for ten minutes with neither one gaining the advantage. Misprint was mostly on the defensive not wanting to hurt one of her friends, she tried to stick to blocking and dodging and when she would hit him she aimed for a spot that wouldn't hurt too much. She was dodging a punch Spot aimed at her face when she jumped back to the edge of the dock. Losing her balance Misprint fell in with a loud splash. Spot and the boys who had gathered around to watch, burst out laughing at the sight.
When Misprint surfaced the laughter stopped and was replaced by looks of anger and shock. Her hat had fallen off when she fell in the water and her shoulder-length curly blond hair was clearly visible. And as she climbed out of the water and onto the docks several of the older boys also noticed how her drenched shirt now clung to her like a second skin.
"We need to talk, NOW," Spot nearly shouted. Misprint cringed and followed Spot in the direction of the Lodging House, blushing as she heard the cat calls directed at her retreating back.
*******
End of part 1 please email me @ lisaj101@hotmail.com with suggestions, comments, flames, or ideas for what should happen next.