*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Walk a Mile on
My Route
* Part Four *
Spot just didn't know what he looked like, Antoine decided. All
the Brooklyn Newsies knew of him was that he was rich and had
been beat up by the Delancy's. But shouldn't his limp have been
enough to tip Spot off? And why hadn't Oscar and Morris
recognized him from before? Oh, he'd tried to explain that away
as well, but the solution he came up with still didn't sit well.
He walked along trying to sort everything out in his head when he
caught sight of Jack's friend and his little brother--- what was
that kid's name again? Danny? Darren? DAVID! "'Ey
Dave..."
David Jacobs and his younger brother Les both looked up at the
same time, and also at the same time looked disgusted at what
they saw. It didn't phase Antoine though. He needed to talk to
someone and he needed to talk right now. Who better than the
Walking Mouth?
"'Eya." Antoine scuffed his shoe on the pavement a
little.
"Les... why don't you go catch up with the others at the
Restaurant? Tell them I'll be along in a minute." David
ushered his younger brother away.
"Awwww, but--!" Les protested.
"Just do what I said, please!"
Begrudgingly, the boy jogged off towards Tibby's.
"So what can I do for you Antoine Bernard Smith the
Fourth?"
"Ya remembahed my name."
"Surprised?"
"Well, no one else seems ta call me anythin' but Pursestring
dese days." He chuckled ruefully. Not that he minded
anymore. It was just still rather hard to get used to.
David loosened up a little. Antoine seemed to be a little more
easygoing at the moment, so there was no reason not to be
friendly. "They do that. Hey, a lot of them call me Mouth.
What can you do about it, right?"
"Guess so." Antoine shrugged. He'd wanted to talk
but... suddenly it didn't seem as important. He'd get accepted
into the group. It'd just take time. "Say.. ya headin' ta
Tibby's?"
"Wondering when you were going to ask." The two Newsies
headed off for a late lunch. David was still wary, but he felt
that Antoine had changed a lot over one morning, if such a thing
was possible. All that time alone really did the snob some good.
He was glad it had worked out this way instead of the opposite
scenario where Antoine ran off looking for home and got himself
hurt... or dead.
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The standard lunch crowd was buzzing at the Newsies' chief
hangout when David arrived with Antoine. The same silence as the
day before fell over the tables where the others sat, but Antoine
didn't let this intimidate him for a second time. He marched
right over, grabbed an empty chair and pulled up to Jack's table.
The others sitting there - Mush, Race, Blink, and Pie Eater - all
slid over in surprise.
"So..." Jack began. He wasn't used to being caught
speechless. But this kid's sudden burst of self confidence fit
neatly into the 'unexpected' category. There was something
different about him, but Jack couldn't quite put his finger on
it.
"'Ow'd everyone do dis mornin'?" Antoine took this
awkward moment as his cue to start the conversation.
"Fine..." Race, too, wasn't sure what was going on.
Mush didn't want to pussyfoot around the issue though.
"Geez. What 'appened ta ya? Yer like a different guy."
"Didn't hit yer 'ead 'er nuthin', Antoine?" Pie Eater
cocked his head and waved his hand infront of Antoine's face.
"Call me Ant. An'.. I'm fine, really!" Antoine batted
at Pie Eater's hand. "Haven't felt dis good in a real long
time."
The others still looked skeptical.
"Ya all taught me somethin' real important. Dat's ta unstuff
me shirt an' look at all da good around me. S'easy ta take it fer
granted when ya lives inside a nice little sanitized house yer
whole life." He took a deep breath. "I've been a real
jerk, I know. Da phrase 'spoiled brat' even comes ta mind."
"Hey! Whaddya know, Ant? Mine too." Blink replied
sourly. Gimme a break. Dis sounds so rehearsed. An' still---
"Give 'im a chance." Jack hushed Blink. He knew about
getting a second chance to set things right and wasn't about to
deny that to Antoine. No matter what kind of a egomaniacal
pipsqueak he had been the first week, there was something
different now. He felt honesty coming from Antoine for the first
time.
"All I want is anudder shot. Ta start ovah. I's real sorry
'bout makin' ya put up wid me."
The other tables had long ago discontinued their conversations in
favor of listening in to what was happening at the main table. At
Ant's last comment, they exchanged looks. "Should we?"
"Whaddya t'ink?" "Could it hoit?"
Finally, Jack gave the okay. The first test for the new and
improved Antoine would come that afternoon, anyway. They were
planning a trip to the docks in Brooklyn--- the first one since
Jack and company had walked away a week before. It was going to
be a little strained, but what better place to test 'Ant'?
"Et's get outta 'ere an' go fer a swim."
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Spot saw them coming from a good distance away. That was the
advantage of being the most famous and respected Newsie in all of
New York-- you always got a good view of things. From his perch
on the pilons at the docks, he could see everything for blocks
around. Nice of Jack to finally come around. He hadn't meant
anything by their conversation before, just that he didn't trust
scabs and that if Jack knew what was good for him, he wouldn't
either. They had a tendency to turn on you. "'Eya
Jackie-boy. Wonderin' when you was comin' back."
Jack cracked a half smile and offered a spit shake to Spot, who
accepted. Everything was going to be alright, even if they didn't
agree on Jack's new boy.
Grabbing Ant by the shoulder and clearing his throat, Jack began
the introduction he had run over at least a dozen times in his
head. "Spot, dis is---"
"Pursestring. 'Eya again."
Floored, Jack gaped as Ant spit-shook with the Brooklyn leader.
"Nice ta see ya again too, Spot."
Don't Spot know dat--- Waaaait. I got dis now. Spot don't know
who Antoine is. Well, really is. Jack unclasped his hands. But
when did 'e meet Ant?
"Spot an' 'is boys got me outta a scrape wid da Delancy's
dis afternoon." Ant answered the unspoken question.
"Now I know why 'e's got da respect of all da Newsies in New
York."
"Alright, schmoozah. Enough's enough. Ya gonna sit 'ere an'
buttah up Spot all aftahnoon or ya gonna come fer a swim?"
Racetrack punched Ant playfully in the arm and dove off the end
of the dock.
Ant spun and took off after Racetrack. "Yer gonna get it fer
dat!"
Once more all alone. Jack glanced over at Spot. Should he
tell him the truth about Antoine? The guy was bound to ask where
their new pretty boy was at anyway.
"So where's dat scabbah? 'E decide ta stay back at da
lodgin' 'ouse an' cry?" Spot chuckled.
"No..." Jack took a deep breath. "'E's 'ere."
"Where?"
Soundlessly, Jack pointed off the end of the pier where Ant was
splashing around with Racetrack and Blink.
Spot raised an eyebrow. "Yer jokin'." He took a good
look at the Manhattan Newsie's face. "'Kay, so yer
not." He shook his head. "Can't believe it. Well, 'e
ain't what I figured."
"'E ain't like 'e was when 'e came ta us 'bout t'ree weeks
ago neidah. 'E's different. Kinda---"
"Nice?" Spot supplied with a smirk.
"Yeah, dat."
As the two continued their conversation, Ant swam forward and
ducked down below the water. Down in the murky depths, he devised
a plan and started swimming towards the support beams under the
dock. Gotta time this just right... He surfaced briefly to
take in some air, unnoticed by his two intended splashing
victims.
"-- an' 'e don't even look like da ol' Antoine
neidah." Jack was confiding to Spot. "Or talk like
'im."
"Gotta hand it to ya, Jack. Ya really did a good job wid
'im. Ya couldn't tell 'im from one a'da uddah's who's been
sellin' papes fer years any more."
Tensing, Antoine shot straight up in the water. He had heard
everything and was furious. So that was their plan. Change me
into one of them! And here I was thinking that they actually
wanted to be friends. I fell for it!! "So glad ta know
dat I was a good lil' guinea pig fer yah!" He leapt onto the
dock and ran as fast and as far as he could. He was going to find
his parents, and he was going to find them now.
"Where's 'e goin', Jack?" Mush pulled his dripping wet
body out of the water and stared after Ant.
Jack set his jaw, cursing the lousy timing.
"Ta find 'is parents, I'll bet." Kid Blink shook his
head. "Whadya say ta 'im, Cowboy?"
"Somethin' dat Purse misundahstood, no doubt."
Snipeshooter too crawled up onto the dock. "Judgin' by da
speed a'which 'e took off, I mean."
"I could send some a'my boys aftah im', Jack." Spot
wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he felt bad about what had just
happened. "Bring 'im back 'ere."
"No." Jack spoke for the first time since Ant took off.
"I'll follow 'im m'self."
"Yer kiddin', Jack! You'll nevah catch 'im." Blink said
incredulously. "At least let some of us look too."
He didn't really want the others involved, but Jack realized that
without them, he might never find Antoine. "A'right.
But let me do da talkin'."
"Sure." Kid motioned to Mush and Race. "We'll
check 'round midtown."
Snipeshooter snagged Boots and Snoddy. "We'se got
Harlem."
The other Newsies quickly broke up, Spot sending his boys out to
personally check out every crevice of Brooklyn. They were going
to find him and explain things. He wasn't just a pawn in some
game. He was their friend.
