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"Where ya been Grabs? We been waitin' fer ya." Bright Eyes asked as her son trudged through the door with a tired expression on his face. "Yeah, Picks an' Pockets came home hours ago. Where ya been kid?" Racetrack asked from the dinner table. Grabs shrugged. "Playin' wit' Joy an' Craps." He said innocently. It wasn't totally a lie. Craps and Joy had changed their minds and decided to go with him to convince the other boys and had helped him gain Toby's approval and trust. But still, an uneasy feeling entered into Grabs' mind. Racetrack nodded, but still looked over his son. There was something wrong with his son that he couldn't place. A certain gleam of the eye that flashed at him from the corners of it's brown gaze. His son had a secret. "You sua dere's nothin' goin' on?"
Grabs shrugged and looked at his father. "I'm sure. Positive. Sold lotsa papes Momma!" Grabs said, approaching his mother and dumping the money on the counter. Bright Eyes smiled at him and ruffled his hair with one hand as she held Taps in the other. "Ya did good Grabs. Ya hungry?" She asked, scooping some food on a cracked plate. Grabs nodded. "Yup! Danks Momma." Grabs took the plate over to the table and began to eat hungrily. Racetrack watched his son eat his food. Then he turned away and his eyes caught Bright Eyes' stare. She motioned him to the other room and he stood reluctantly. "Whats da matta witcha? Why do ya keep starin' at Grabs thataway?" She asked. Racetrack shrugged. "I dunno Brighty. Its just dat, he looks like he's hidin' sometin'. Sometin' big dat is primarily 'bout us. I don't like it."
Bright Eyes sighed. "I know. I could see it in his eyes dis mawnin'. But Race you know betta dan I do not ta tick 'im off by starin' at him constantly. He'll know dat we know sometin'." Racetrack ran his hands through his dark hair. "I know. But I cain't help it! He's my kid an' I worry 'bout 'im!" Bright Eyes nodded and placed her hand on his. "I know. He's my kid too rememba?" Racetrack's face softened. "I'm sorry Bright. I guess I'm jest worried 'bout Jack, an' Cowboy an' Fairy, all da kids actually. You. I jest, I dunno. It's been crazy 'round here." Bright Eyes laughed. "It sure has. But we gotta stop worryin'. Grabs knows da difference between right an' wrong. He does. I know it. Now your udda two sons on da udda hand." Bright Eyes said warningly.
Racetrack laughed. "Don't even git me stawted on Picks an' Pockets." He said. "I will. Do ya know dat dey brought home a GOLD watch? A gold watch Race! Honestly if dey don't start straightenin' up, dey're gonna end up in da refuge! I am not gonna see my sons in a refuge! I've been dere! You've been dere! Almost every Newsies' been dere! I won't let my kids get put dere. It would kill me." She said solemnly. Racetrack put his arm around her. "I know Bright. We'll woik it out. Maybe a few days away from sellin' papes will change dey're minds 'bout picken' pockets." He said with a sly smile. Bright Eyes grinned. "Oh, dat'll break dey're little hearts. Yer so mean to dose poor babies." She said. Racetrack grinned. "I know. Let's have a little talk wit' dose boys of mine." He said as he and Bright Eyes walked out of the room.
Bright Eyes' eyes went wide when she saw the table. Grabs was gone, his plate on the counter, scraped clean. "Fairy, where did Grabs go?" Racetrack asked the little girl, who was sitting at the table playing with a grubby doll. "He went to da boy's room Papa. Him an' all da boys is back dere." She said simply. "Racetrack turned to Bright Eyes. "I'm jest gonna check it out. Make sure dey're okay." Bright Eyes nodded as she got a firmer grip on the squirmy Taps. Racetrack walked down the hallway and halted outside the boy's room that Picks, Pockets, Grabs, and Cowboy shared. It was the largest room in the apartment, and it was only right that the boys should share it. But from the sounds coming out of the room, it was not only the boys, but the girls as well.
Racetrack opened the door and looked inside. Gathered on Grabs' bed were Picks, Pockets, Cowboy, Angel, and Sunshine. They were listening to Grabs closely. Grabs was in the middle of the group speaking to them earnestly. "Whatcha guys doin'?" Racetrack asked. All of the children bolted upright. Grabs grinned. "I was jest tellin' da guys a joke I heaid on da street Poppa. Nothin' big." Racetrack eased himself into the doorway. "Really? Tell me it." Grabs' brown eyes widened but his grin remained. "Sure. What is with you all your life, but sometimes disappears?" Grabs asked. Racetrack put his hand on his chin and pretended to think, while he watched his children's faces. They were all watching him and Grabs with tense faces. "I give up. What?" Grabs smiled. "Yer hair!" The children laughed uneasily as Racetrack laughed. "Okay. I'll leave you guys alone now." Racetrack walked out of the door, though still not satisfied that nothing was up with his children.
The children waited till they heard their father's footsteps disappear down the hall, then they turned back to Grabs. "Now Grabs, yer sua dat dese guys said dat dey was gonna kill Papa?" Picks asked with a skeptical eye. "I'm sua. Dey said dey was gonna hit Papa wit' sometin' he wasn't ready for. Well Papa ain't ready fer death is he?" The children shook their heads in thought. "So you stawted a rally type ting Grabs? What's Momma an' Poppa gonna think?" Angel asked.
Grabs rolled his eyes. "Angel, we cain't let Momma an' Poppa know! If dey did it would spoil everytin'. Now, we gots ta protect our famlies an' find out who's behind dis mastamind da kill Jack an' our Poppa. If our parents find out, ya know what dey'd do? Make us stay home out of everytin'!" Grabs said, spitting the words out like metal. "I AIN'T gonna stay home while me famlily's in danga. So you guys wit' me?" There was silence for a while. "We're witcha all da way Grabs!" Picks and Pockets said rather loudly. The other children concurred with their brothers. "All right den. We jest gotta plan dis so dat Momma an' Poppa don't have a clue." Grabs said happily. "But Grabs, what 'bout Fairy?" Cowboy asked. Grabs stopped short. He had totally forgotten about her. She had refused to come with him so he could tell her, so he left her. "I'll tell her lata. She's still wacked out from da experience. I'll do da hona's." Grabs said confidently. "But fer now, we gots ta git ready fer da foist meetin'. I talked ta da uddas an' its all arranged. It's gonna be dangerous dough." Grabs said quietly.
There was silence around the room. Then Picks spoke. "Well Grabs, I guess it's a risk we gots ta take ain't it? I mean, if we's gonna protect our famlies, we gotta do a little disobeyin' occasionally don't we?" Grabs grinned and slapped his arm around his brother. "Dat's it boy! Now, I'se got an important announcement. We's got Brooklyn!" There was a general uproar in the room as the children began to congratulate him and to giggle excitedly. "I cain't believe it! Dats great Grabs!" Angel said ecstatically. "I know. An' guess who gave us Brooklyn?" The children shook they're heads. "No one but da infamous Sketch an' Jade Conlon!" Grabs said triumphantly. The children looked at each other and grinned. "Dats great! I like Sketch. He's funny." Sunshine said shyly. "Well, we betta break dis meetin' up, uddawise Momma an' Papa's gonna git suspicious." The children nodded and the girls retreated from the room.
"Do ya really tink dat dis is a good idea Grabs?" A quiet voice asked from the corner of the room. Cowboy was watching Grabs intently, his small forehead furrowed. "Sure Cowboy. It'll be okay. We've got Brooklyn don't we?" Grabs asked. "Yeah, but does Brooklyn have guns?" Grabs was taken aback. "What are ya tawkin' about Cowboy?" Cowboy shrugged and he twisted one of his curls on his small finger. "It's jest dat, I was dere when Jack got shot. I was da one who stawted it. Me an' my big mout'. Dose guys have got big guns Grabs, an' no meetin' or slinkin' 'round da guttas is gonna do much against dat. 'Cept it'll git some kids killed." Cowboy said solemnly. Grabs sat back on his bed and Picks and Pockets watched in silence.
"I mean, I tink it's a good idea an' all Grabs. I jest don't know if we should do it. Dat's all." Grabs looked up at his little brother. "Look, we gots Brooklyn. An' Art said he was gonna be bringin' in bigga boys right? So we'll have 'dults dere! We'll be fine. Dey kin protect us." Grabs said confidently. "Yeah, but who's gonna protect you when ya go's up ta make yer speech huh?" Cowboy shot back. Grabs sat back once more. He hadn't thought of that. "It'll be fine. Jest drop it Cowboy an' go ta sleep. I don't wanna hear no more 'bout it." Grabs laid down on his bed and buried his tanned face into his pillow. Cowboy crawled into bed next to him, and turned the opposite way, his serious face staring out into the darkness.
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Next Saturday.
"Hey ya Grabs! Ya ready fer tenite?" Sketch Conlon called out. Grabs grinned at the boy, who strutted up to him importantly. "Yep. How 'bout you? Ya didn't tell yer folks did ya?" Sketch smiled and shook his head. "Neva. Papa mighta not let me come at all. It was rough gettin' alot of da boys from Brooklyn up hea widout lettin' Papa know. You owe me an' Art big Higgins." The boy said seriously. Grabs smiled at the boy's seriousness. "Sure. I'll pay ya back. Don't worry Conlon." Sketch said as he patted him on the back. "Say, did all yer bruddas an' sistas come?" Sketch asked. Grabs frowned, remembering the previous night's episode.
He had finally convinced his parents to let he and his siblings to go out for a mere three hours, but no more. But one thing held up the project. Fairy. She refused to leave the house. She refused to listen to what Grabs said. Instead, she merely glared at him in silence. Then she had scoffed. "Yer gettin' yerself in far over yer head Grabs." Grabs had gazed at her in astonishment, not believing his ears. But his sister merely turned away and began to play with her doll, ignoring him.
Grabs returned to the present and gazed into Sketch's gray eyes. "Fairy couldn't come." Sketch shrugged. "Dats too bad. Maybe next time huh?" Grabs nodded as Sketch began to walk away. "Maybe next time. Though I doubt it seriously." Grabs muttered under his breath. "Hey kid. Da uddas is ready. You gonna stawt dis ting off?" Art's booming voice asked. Grabs jumped and nodded. "Yeah, yeah I'll do dat." Grabs jumped up on a crate and stood straight and tall, overlooking the craps alley. It was crammed full with boys and girls alike. His siblings were in the front, as were the Conlon twins. Joy looked up at him and gave him a winning smile. Grabs grinned and whistled for attention.
"Okay you guys! Quiet down! Quiet down! Ya'll know why we're hea so I won't go inta details, but one ting I will say, is dat we're gonna bring da guys who did dis down!" Grabs yelled. The group roared in appreciation, much to Grabs' delight. "Tenight da olda boys is gonna take us younga kids 'round Manhattan. Now I had my guys give ya a numba when ya came in. Did ya 'memba it?" The group murmured. "Okay, If yer ones, ya go find Art or somebody from Brooklyn. Brooklyn, you'll split up in small groups, a big boy fer each group. Got dat? Okay, two's, you'se goin' wit' da Bronx boys. Three's yer Queens. Fours," Grabs continued to call out the numbers so that the children knew where to go.
By the time they were finished, it was eight thirty. "Okay, ya gotta keep it quiet. Ya see anytin', ya tell yer leada! Undastand? Lets go!" Grabs shouted, jumping off the crate. He ran over to his siblings and his friends. "So, who's takin' us Grabs?" Sunshine asked. "I is! Doncha worry Sunny! I kin protect ya!" Sketch said proudly, bringing a blush to Sunshine's cheeks. "No you ain't leadin'. Tanks anyway dough Sketch. Art's gonna take us." Grabs said, as the red headed boy approached them. "Okay, if yer gonna be wit' me, dere cain't be no kids afraid of da dawk. 'Cause where we're goin', it's sure gonna get dawk and doity. No whimperin' or nothin'. Dat'll scare everybody off. Ya undastand? Who's bailin' out?" Art asked. There was no reply. Art nodded. "Okay. Lets go." Art began to slink off quietly away from the now silent group, followed closely and quietly by Grabs, Picks, Pockets, Angel, Sunshine, Cowboy, Sketch, Jade, and Joy. The children slinked quietly around the sewers and dark spots in the alleyways, watching, listening. At ten thirty, the children had about lost hope, when Art suddenly stopped in his tracks.
"What is it Art?" Grabs whispered. "Shet up. Lemme hear." He whispered harshly. Grabs squinted his eyes and gazed into the distance where Art was staring intently. There were two shadows. Men. They didn't sound too happy and as they talked their voices escalated, making it easier for the children to hear. "What do you mean you flubbed it?" One of them asked angrily. "I'm sorry Osca! I couldn't get to him! Honest. I tried, but his kids kept gettin' in the way!" The taller man whined. The shorter man, the one they assumed was Oscar stopped short. "Whaddya mean? His kids kept gettin' in the way?" The tall man sighed. "They kept hanging around him and stuff. I couldn't shoot him there." The tall man insisted. Oscar grabbed the man's shirt collar and pulled it down towards his face. "You such a baby dat you cain't kill a man in front of his own kids?" He snarled.
The man struggled to get loose from Oscar's grasp. "I tried Oscar, but I couldn't do that. Plus you said don't kill anymore than I hafta. I didn't want to accidently hit one of the kids." The man pleaded. Oscar released his grasp. "Fine. Yer probably right. But in the meantime we gotta hit someone. Someone that would send a message to all those guys who abused us. An' we gotta kill dis time." Oscar said solemnly. The taller man nodded. "What if we picked of a leader?" Oscar asked, turning around suddenly. The taller man started. "A leader?" Oscar nodded vigorously. "If we could pick off one of the leaders of the districts, that would send a pretty clear messege. An' den, we kin hit Manhattan." The children saw the taller man grin in the moonlight. "Dat's a good idea Oscar. But who we gonna hit?" Oscar began to walk away, much to the children's dismay. "I gotta tink about that. C'mon." The taller man began to follow them. "No! Geez, we was so close!" Art hissed. "Well at least we know one of em's names." Grabs said encouragingly. "Yeah. Do ya know how many guy's names is Osca? It'll be like findin' a needle in a haystack." Art groaned.
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"Where ya been Grabs? We been waitin' fer ya." Bright Eyes asked as her son trudged through the door with a tired expression on his face. "Yeah, Picks an' Pockets came home hours ago. Where ya been kid?" Racetrack asked from the dinner table. Grabs shrugged. "Playin' wit' Joy an' Craps." He said innocently. It wasn't totally a lie. Craps and Joy had changed their minds and decided to go with him to convince the other boys and had helped him gain Toby's approval and trust. But still, an uneasy feeling entered into Grabs' mind. Racetrack nodded, but still looked over his son. There was something wrong with his son that he couldn't place. A certain gleam of the eye that flashed at him from the corners of it's brown gaze. His son had a secret. "You sua dere's nothin' goin' on?"
Grabs shrugged and looked at his father. "I'm sure. Positive. Sold lotsa papes Momma!" Grabs said, approaching his mother and dumping the money on the counter. Bright Eyes smiled at him and ruffled his hair with one hand as she held Taps in the other. "Ya did good Grabs. Ya hungry?" She asked, scooping some food on a cracked plate. Grabs nodded. "Yup! Danks Momma." Grabs took the plate over to the table and began to eat hungrily. Racetrack watched his son eat his food. Then he turned away and his eyes caught Bright Eyes' stare. She motioned him to the other room and he stood reluctantly. "Whats da matta witcha? Why do ya keep starin' at Grabs thataway?" She asked. Racetrack shrugged. "I dunno Brighty. Its just dat, he looks like he's hidin' sometin'. Sometin' big dat is primarily 'bout us. I don't like it."
Bright Eyes sighed. "I know. I could see it in his eyes dis mawnin'. But Race you know betta dan I do not ta tick 'im off by starin' at him constantly. He'll know dat we know sometin'." Racetrack ran his hands through his dark hair. "I know. But I cain't help it! He's my kid an' I worry 'bout 'im!" Bright Eyes nodded and placed her hand on his. "I know. He's my kid too rememba?" Racetrack's face softened. "I'm sorry Bright. I guess I'm jest worried 'bout Jack, an' Cowboy an' Fairy, all da kids actually. You. I jest, I dunno. It's been crazy 'round here." Bright Eyes laughed. "It sure has. But we gotta stop worryin'. Grabs knows da difference between right an' wrong. He does. I know it. Now your udda two sons on da udda hand." Bright Eyes said warningly.
Racetrack laughed. "Don't even git me stawted on Picks an' Pockets." He said. "I will. Do ya know dat dey brought home a GOLD watch? A gold watch Race! Honestly if dey don't start straightenin' up, dey're gonna end up in da refuge! I am not gonna see my sons in a refuge! I've been dere! You've been dere! Almost every Newsies' been dere! I won't let my kids get put dere. It would kill me." She said solemnly. Racetrack put his arm around her. "I know Bright. We'll woik it out. Maybe a few days away from sellin' papes will change dey're minds 'bout picken' pockets." He said with a sly smile. Bright Eyes grinned. "Oh, dat'll break dey're little hearts. Yer so mean to dose poor babies." She said. Racetrack grinned. "I know. Let's have a little talk wit' dose boys of mine." He said as he and Bright Eyes walked out of the room.
Bright Eyes' eyes went wide when she saw the table. Grabs was gone, his plate on the counter, scraped clean. "Fairy, where did Grabs go?" Racetrack asked the little girl, who was sitting at the table playing with a grubby doll. "He went to da boy's room Papa. Him an' all da boys is back dere." She said simply. "Racetrack turned to Bright Eyes. "I'm jest gonna check it out. Make sure dey're okay." Bright Eyes nodded as she got a firmer grip on the squirmy Taps. Racetrack walked down the hallway and halted outside the boy's room that Picks, Pockets, Grabs, and Cowboy shared. It was the largest room in the apartment, and it was only right that the boys should share it. But from the sounds coming out of the room, it was not only the boys, but the girls as well.
Racetrack opened the door and looked inside. Gathered on Grabs' bed were Picks, Pockets, Cowboy, Angel, and Sunshine. They were listening to Grabs closely. Grabs was in the middle of the group speaking to them earnestly. "Whatcha guys doin'?" Racetrack asked. All of the children bolted upright. Grabs grinned. "I was jest tellin' da guys a joke I heaid on da street Poppa. Nothin' big." Racetrack eased himself into the doorway. "Really? Tell me it." Grabs' brown eyes widened but his grin remained. "Sure. What is with you all your life, but sometimes disappears?" Grabs asked. Racetrack put his hand on his chin and pretended to think, while he watched his children's faces. They were all watching him and Grabs with tense faces. "I give up. What?" Grabs smiled. "Yer hair!" The children laughed uneasily as Racetrack laughed. "Okay. I'll leave you guys alone now." Racetrack walked out of the door, though still not satisfied that nothing was up with his children.
The children waited till they heard their father's footsteps disappear down the hall, then they turned back to Grabs. "Now Grabs, yer sua dat dese guys said dat dey was gonna kill Papa?" Picks asked with a skeptical eye. "I'm sua. Dey said dey was gonna hit Papa wit' sometin' he wasn't ready for. Well Papa ain't ready fer death is he?" The children shook their heads in thought. "So you stawted a rally type ting Grabs? What's Momma an' Poppa gonna think?" Angel asked.
Grabs rolled his eyes. "Angel, we cain't let Momma an' Poppa know! If dey did it would spoil everytin'. Now, we gots ta protect our famlies an' find out who's behind dis mastamind da kill Jack an' our Poppa. If our parents find out, ya know what dey'd do? Make us stay home out of everytin'!" Grabs said, spitting the words out like metal. "I AIN'T gonna stay home while me famlily's in danga. So you guys wit' me?" There was silence for a while. "We're witcha all da way Grabs!" Picks and Pockets said rather loudly. The other children concurred with their brothers. "All right den. We jest gotta plan dis so dat Momma an' Poppa don't have a clue." Grabs said happily. "But Grabs, what 'bout Fairy?" Cowboy asked. Grabs stopped short. He had totally forgotten about her. She had refused to come with him so he could tell her, so he left her. "I'll tell her lata. She's still wacked out from da experience. I'll do da hona's." Grabs said confidently. "But fer now, we gots ta git ready fer da foist meetin'. I talked ta da uddas an' its all arranged. It's gonna be dangerous dough." Grabs said quietly.
There was silence around the room. Then Picks spoke. "Well Grabs, I guess it's a risk we gots ta take ain't it? I mean, if we's gonna protect our famlies, we gotta do a little disobeyin' occasionally don't we?" Grabs grinned and slapped his arm around his brother. "Dat's it boy! Now, I'se got an important announcement. We's got Brooklyn!" There was a general uproar in the room as the children began to congratulate him and to giggle excitedly. "I cain't believe it! Dats great Grabs!" Angel said ecstatically. "I know. An' guess who gave us Brooklyn?" The children shook they're heads. "No one but da infamous Sketch an' Jade Conlon!" Grabs said triumphantly. The children looked at each other and grinned. "Dats great! I like Sketch. He's funny." Sunshine said shyly. "Well, we betta break dis meetin' up, uddawise Momma an' Papa's gonna git suspicious." The children nodded and the girls retreated from the room.
"Do ya really tink dat dis is a good idea Grabs?" A quiet voice asked from the corner of the room. Cowboy was watching Grabs intently, his small forehead furrowed. "Sure Cowboy. It'll be okay. We've got Brooklyn don't we?" Grabs asked. "Yeah, but does Brooklyn have guns?" Grabs was taken aback. "What are ya tawkin' about Cowboy?" Cowboy shrugged and he twisted one of his curls on his small finger. "It's jest dat, I was dere when Jack got shot. I was da one who stawted it. Me an' my big mout'. Dose guys have got big guns Grabs, an' no meetin' or slinkin' 'round da guttas is gonna do much against dat. 'Cept it'll git some kids killed." Cowboy said solemnly. Grabs sat back on his bed and Picks and Pockets watched in silence.
"I mean, I tink it's a good idea an' all Grabs. I jest don't know if we should do it. Dat's all." Grabs looked up at his little brother. "Look, we gots Brooklyn. An' Art said he was gonna be bringin' in bigga boys right? So we'll have 'dults dere! We'll be fine. Dey kin protect us." Grabs said confidently. "Yeah, but who's gonna protect you when ya go's up ta make yer speech huh?" Cowboy shot back. Grabs sat back once more. He hadn't thought of that. "It'll be fine. Jest drop it Cowboy an' go ta sleep. I don't wanna hear no more 'bout it." Grabs laid down on his bed and buried his tanned face into his pillow. Cowboy crawled into bed next to him, and turned the opposite way, his serious face staring out into the darkness.
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Next Saturday.
"Hey ya Grabs! Ya ready fer tenite?" Sketch Conlon called out. Grabs grinned at the boy, who strutted up to him importantly. "Yep. How 'bout you? Ya didn't tell yer folks did ya?" Sketch smiled and shook his head. "Neva. Papa mighta not let me come at all. It was rough gettin' alot of da boys from Brooklyn up hea widout lettin' Papa know. You owe me an' Art big Higgins." The boy said seriously. Grabs smiled at the boy's seriousness. "Sure. I'll pay ya back. Don't worry Conlon." Sketch said as he patted him on the back. "Say, did all yer bruddas an' sistas come?" Sketch asked. Grabs frowned, remembering the previous night's episode.
He had finally convinced his parents to let he and his siblings to go out for a mere three hours, but no more. But one thing held up the project. Fairy. She refused to leave the house. She refused to listen to what Grabs said. Instead, she merely glared at him in silence. Then she had scoffed. "Yer gettin' yerself in far over yer head Grabs." Grabs had gazed at her in astonishment, not believing his ears. But his sister merely turned away and began to play with her doll, ignoring him.
Grabs returned to the present and gazed into Sketch's gray eyes. "Fairy couldn't come." Sketch shrugged. "Dats too bad. Maybe next time huh?" Grabs nodded as Sketch began to walk away. "Maybe next time. Though I doubt it seriously." Grabs muttered under his breath. "Hey kid. Da uddas is ready. You gonna stawt dis ting off?" Art's booming voice asked. Grabs jumped and nodded. "Yeah, yeah I'll do dat." Grabs jumped up on a crate and stood straight and tall, overlooking the craps alley. It was crammed full with boys and girls alike. His siblings were in the front, as were the Conlon twins. Joy looked up at him and gave him a winning smile. Grabs grinned and whistled for attention.
"Okay you guys! Quiet down! Quiet down! Ya'll know why we're hea so I won't go inta details, but one ting I will say, is dat we're gonna bring da guys who did dis down!" Grabs yelled. The group roared in appreciation, much to Grabs' delight. "Tenight da olda boys is gonna take us younga kids 'round Manhattan. Now I had my guys give ya a numba when ya came in. Did ya 'memba it?" The group murmured. "Okay, If yer ones, ya go find Art or somebody from Brooklyn. Brooklyn, you'll split up in small groups, a big boy fer each group. Got dat? Okay, two's, you'se goin' wit' da Bronx boys. Three's yer Queens. Fours," Grabs continued to call out the numbers so that the children knew where to go.
By the time they were finished, it was eight thirty. "Okay, ya gotta keep it quiet. Ya see anytin', ya tell yer leada! Undastand? Lets go!" Grabs shouted, jumping off the crate. He ran over to his siblings and his friends. "So, who's takin' us Grabs?" Sunshine asked. "I is! Doncha worry Sunny! I kin protect ya!" Sketch said proudly, bringing a blush to Sunshine's cheeks. "No you ain't leadin'. Tanks anyway dough Sketch. Art's gonna take us." Grabs said, as the red headed boy approached them. "Okay, if yer gonna be wit' me, dere cain't be no kids afraid of da dawk. 'Cause where we're goin', it's sure gonna get dawk and doity. No whimperin' or nothin'. Dat'll scare everybody off. Ya undastand? Who's bailin' out?" Art asked. There was no reply. Art nodded. "Okay. Lets go." Art began to slink off quietly away from the now silent group, followed closely and quietly by Grabs, Picks, Pockets, Angel, Sunshine, Cowboy, Sketch, Jade, and Joy. The children slinked quietly around the sewers and dark spots in the alleyways, watching, listening. At ten thirty, the children had about lost hope, when Art suddenly stopped in his tracks.
"What is it Art?" Grabs whispered. "Shet up. Lemme hear." He whispered harshly. Grabs squinted his eyes and gazed into the distance where Art was staring intently. There were two shadows. Men. They didn't sound too happy and as they talked their voices escalated, making it easier for the children to hear. "What do you mean you flubbed it?" One of them asked angrily. "I'm sorry Osca! I couldn't get to him! Honest. I tried, but his kids kept gettin' in the way!" The taller man whined. The shorter man, the one they assumed was Oscar stopped short. "Whaddya mean? His kids kept gettin' in the way?" The tall man sighed. "They kept hanging around him and stuff. I couldn't shoot him there." The tall man insisted. Oscar grabbed the man's shirt collar and pulled it down towards his face. "You such a baby dat you cain't kill a man in front of his own kids?" He snarled.
The man struggled to get loose from Oscar's grasp. "I tried Oscar, but I couldn't do that. Plus you said don't kill anymore than I hafta. I didn't want to accidently hit one of the kids." The man pleaded. Oscar released his grasp. "Fine. Yer probably right. But in the meantime we gotta hit someone. Someone that would send a message to all those guys who abused us. An' we gotta kill dis time." Oscar said solemnly. The taller man nodded. "What if we picked of a leader?" Oscar asked, turning around suddenly. The taller man started. "A leader?" Oscar nodded vigorously. "If we could pick off one of the leaders of the districts, that would send a pretty clear messege. An' den, we kin hit Manhattan." The children saw the taller man grin in the moonlight. "Dat's a good idea Oscar. But who we gonna hit?" Oscar began to walk away, much to the children's dismay. "I gotta tink about that. C'mon." The taller man began to follow them. "No! Geez, we was so close!" Art hissed. "Well at least we know one of em's names." Grabs said encouragingly. "Yeah. Do ya know how many guy's names is Osca? It'll be like findin' a needle in a haystack." Art groaned.
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