Unknown Identities
Chapter 1
Racetrack breathed in the morning fragrance, stuffing his coarse hands into his pockets to save them from the bitter cold, his 'papes' tucked under his arm. He walked absent-mindedly through the cold winds, concentrating hard on one thought, though it made no sense to him, not even hearing the call of help from a fellow newsie as their papes fell to the alley ground, now splattered with that newsie's crimson blood.
"Help!" The pain-ridden words echoed everywhere, excluding Race's mind. "Please, I'se neva' did not'in' ta ya'! Please!" The newsie let out a wavering breath. "Help! Help! He-" The male's pleading voice ended abruptly, followed by a deadly silence.
Race took no notice to any of the horrible happenings. He hardly even seemed aware that blood was slowly seeping from his swollen nose to the snow-covered ground, leaving a trail of scarlet drops behind him. His feet dragged in the hard-packed snow, imprints of his saddle brown shoes being left in the snow.
"Race! Where ya' been?" Race's friend Spot's words went by his ears deafly. "Race?" Spot questioned, not used to being ignored. He was too feared by many - they wouldn't dare. But Race was his friend - he wasn't afraid to stand up to him, that was how their friendship was formed.
Spot's chocolate eyes were all that moved as they watched Race walk past him, until Spot ran up the stairs of the Newsboys Lodging House, bursting into the bunkroom. "Jack! 'ey, Jack!"
Jack waved Spot away. "Not now, Spot, I'se gonna win Itey at poka'. Since Race's not 'ere, I'se actually gonna win!"
Stubborn, Spot reached in front of Jack, pulling the cards away from him, "Itey, he's bluffing, he's only got one pair. You win."
While Itey walked away with a grin on his face, Jack's dark eyes glowered at the pokerfaced Spot. "What'dya' do dat for, 'eh?"
"It's 'bout Race. 'E's actin' real strange. C'mon wit' me outside to catch up wit' 'em and find out what's up. Let's go!" He exclaimed.
Jack sighed, standing leisurely, but yelped as Spot's hand closed around Jack's shirt collar, pulling Jack abruptly out of the bunkroom, down the stairs, and into the cold. "Spot!" Jack exclaimed, teeth chattering. "It's freezin'! Why are we out here?"
Spot moved his hand to the back of Jack's neck to make him look in the direction he was, towards the droplets of blood on the ground. Jack smirked. "I hope dat's da Delancys' blood."
"It ain't." Spot muttered grimly. He pointed to where the blood trailed around a corner to an alley where the newsies usually found one another, beat up.
Cocking an eyebrow, Jack forgot about the cold and ran around the corner, where Race was, laying face down in the knee-deep snow. "Told ya' it weren't da Delancy Bruddah's." Spot spoke softly as Jack turned Race over.
"Race?" Jack called. Though Race's dark eyes were wide open, he responded to nothing. "Spot, 'elp me carry 'im inta da lodgin' 'ouse."
Nodding, Spot held the door open, then raced up the stairs to the bunkroom. He slammed the door open. Everything went ghostly silent when Jack entered carrying Race. "Jack! What 'appened ta Race?" Mush scrambled to his feet, followed closely by Kid Blink.
"I dunno." Jack admitted, dropping Race gently down on a bunk bed.
Seconds went by, minutes soared, and hours passed.
"Why fight?" Race whispered, barely awake from his lengthy unconscious state.
Mush ran to his side, a glass of watcher clutched tightly in his hands; the same glass of water that he retrieved after Jack and Spot had each told what they knew. "Race?" He questioned desperately.
"Mush, I'se not sayin' ta give up, 'xactly, but... Mush, give up fer right now!" Jack told him. "He's been muttering almost those same woids fer hours, now! Rest! When's it's dark out, whaddya usually do?"
Mush didn't answer.
"Ya' rest, dat's what ya' do!"
Shaking his head, Mush threw the glass of water towards Jack, the water spurting in his face and the glass falling to the floor. "No." Mush gave a terse answer, then climbed out of the window to the fire escape so Kloppman wouldn't catch him leaving after hours.
The cold winter air chilled Mush to the bone. The others didn't understand. Race had been acting strange lately, and wouldn't even hint to Mush as to why. Now, Race was found, passed out in the snow? Followed by a trail of blood? Mush didn't like this, not at all. Something was wrong, and Mush felt that it was up to him to figure out what it was.
His feet seemed to stop automatically as he came to an alleyway. Why he stopped, he had no idea. But he intended to find out.
Mush walked warily into the dark alleyway, his eyes traveling downwards to show him at least ten unsold newspapers, scattered around. He kneeled and picked one up with his chapped and chilled hands. A gasp escaped his lips as he looked at another, and another - they were all covered in blood.
When Mush picked up the last newspaper, he observed that it was not only splattered with blood, but there was a shape on it. An arrow pointing up, created with blood. Slowly, Mush moved his head upwards, his eyes widening. In shock, he dropped the paper in his hands, but as he fainted, he fell abruptly to the ground before the newspaper did.
Above him, the newsie whose blood was spread on the newspapers hung from the top of the building, a rope around his neck, his eyes wide open, his bare feet dangling.
~~
"Anyone know where Mush is?" Kid Blink asked, worriedly.
"Nope." Jack answered, watching Race. "I ain't seen 'im since 'e ran out on us last night."
"Exactly my point." Blink pointed out, pacing as he thought out loud. "It ain't like Mush ta jest leave an' not come back fer so long. Somet'in's gotta be up." He stopped, determined. "We gotta go look for 'im."
"Kid - I'll look, but if I'se dun find 'im afta' two hours, den I'se comin' back 'ere ta tell you'se my findin's, an' den I'se goin' back home ta Brooklyn." Spot said bluntly. "If I'se stay away too long, den Fox pronounces me dead an' tries ta take ova'."
Blink nodded. "All right - I'se respect dat. Anyone else?" His light colored eye looked at Jack. "Stop hidin' unda' dat cowboy hat, Jack. Dis ain't jest fer Mush, but it might help Race, too."
"I'll go." A dark haired boy nicknamed Bumlets volunteered. "It may 'elp dem, but also your sanity." He stood, retrieving a walking stick that was leaning against his bunk bed.
"T'anks, Bum." Blink looked expectantly at Jack.
After a few long moments of ferocious staring, Jack caved in. "Awright, I'll go! Geezit, you'se stubborn."
Blink grinned. "Maybe, but it gotcha ta come, didn't it?"
"Anyone gots a jacket?" Jack asked, peering outside where snow was falling from the sky.
Throwing Jack a very worn down and thin jacket, Skittery teased, "Too cold fer ya', Kelly?"
"Aww, shut up." Jack pulled his cowboy hat onto his brown mop of hair, shoved his arms into the torn sleeves of Skittery's jacket, and followed Spot, Blink, and Bumlets outside.
"Okay," Spot took charge, ignoring the goosebumps that immediately arose on his arms as they walked into the bitter cold, "Whose goin' where? I'se got all da area from 'ere ta Brooklyn. If I'se find Mush, den I'se ain't comin' right back - it's too cold. I'll bring 'em ta Brooklyn, an' one 'a me boys'll come an' tell ya'."
Blink nodded. "Except fer you, Spot, we'll all meet back here in two hours. If ya' dun have a pocket watch, den just keep yer ears out - you'll hear da big clock strike da hours." After seeing the other two agree, he went on. "I'll search 'round the factory an' 'round da church."
"I'll look 'round da refuge ta make sure 'e didn't end up dere." Bumlets offered.
Jack gave him a grateful smirk. "I'll look at da distribution office an' at Tibby's... Hell, I'll even look at Davy's place."
Spot smirked. "Foist off, you'se goin' ta two warm places. Second 'a all, you'se jest wanna see Sarah."
Even in the severe cold, all the blood rushed to Jack's cheeks. "Davy, too. We ain't seem 'em much since he started school 'gain."
Disbelieving, Spot merely raised an eyebrow, turned around, and starting walking towards Brooklyn.
Blink frowned at Jack. "Jest dun waste too much time 'round Sarah, Jack."
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Jack mumbled under his breath, pushing Blink's words far from his mind as he started the short trip to the distribution office.
Blink watched his elder friend, then he spoke, half to himself, half to Bumlets. "Well, dat'll prob'ly be da last we see 'a 'im 'til tomorra'."
Bumlets chuckled, then waved his hand as he started his lengthy walk to the refuge, leaving Blink staring alone, just outside the Manhattan Lodging House for Newsboys. Sighing, he trudged through the deep snow in the direction of the church and factory.
Jack didn't expect to find Mush himself. Mush wouldn't be at the distribution office, it was too late for that. Mush also didn't have much of an appetite. After briefly scanning over both the office and Tibby's, Jack headed over to the Jacob's home, a smile on his face at the thought of Sarah.
"Please, Sista', if you see a newsie with a mush-like complexion and incredibly coily brown hair, could ya' bring 'im to da Manhattan Newboys Lodgin' House?"
The nun listening to Kid Blink nodded. "And what is this poor young soul's name?"
"Uhh..." Blink said slowly. He was one of the few that knew Mush's real name, and he wasn't about to tell anyone it. "Well, he responds ta Mush."
The nun merely smiled nicely and, thankfully, asked no questions. "We here at the church will be praying for him."
"Thanks." Blink smiled slightly. "I'll letcha know when we find 'im." As Blink turned to leave, in his mind, he was thinking, 'if we find him.'
Meanwhile, Bumlets snuck into the refuge. "'Ey, Joka'!" He hissed.
A boy of about sixteen looked through the bars on the door. "Hey Bum - what'cha doin' on that side 'a da bars?"
"Lookin' fer someone. 'Ave ya' seen Mush lately?"
"Mush? Nah. I haven't seen many a' yer lodgers lately. Only Snitch an' a couple a' odda's."
"But no Mush?"
"Nah. Is he missin'?"
Bumlets nodded. "Yeah. An' Race is unconscious, no one knows what 'appened."
"Geez, sounds like Blink would be next, considerin' da three a' dem are da Three Musketeers."
"Yeah..." Bum nodded. "Well, t'anks, and let someone know if 'e gets t'rown in, okay?"
Joker nodded. "Yeah, we'll let one a' yer sella's know."
"Okay, seeya lata'." Bumlets said, turning to sneak back out of the refuge - he had no intention on getting caught. He was about to turn a corner when he heard Snyder's voice. Snyder was talking to someone, but Bumlets didn't recognize the second voice.
"I saw two newsies today when I was in my carriage on my way here. One was unconscious - the other was dead - hanging from the top of a building. I couldn't stop in time to get to them, but I'm sure they're probably still there, sir."
"Where were they, exactly?" Bumlets could practically hear Snyder drooling at the thought of one more newsie for the refuge and one less newsie to deal with.
"They're in the alleyway between City Hall and Irving Hall, sir."
"Let me get my jacket, and then we can start there." Snyder said.
Bumlets' eyes widened. As soon as Snyder and the man walked into a nearby room, Bumlets raced around the corner, down the hall, and sneaked out of the building, then proceeding to run the great distance towards that alleyway. He cursed as he saw the carriage with Snyder and the unfamiliar man pass him just before he reached the alley. He tried his best to breathe quietly as he watched Snyder enter the alleyway.
"There's no one here! Only some bloody newspapers!' Snyder stomped out of the alley and into the waiting carriage. "Damn!" He exclaimed.
Hearing the chime of the town clock, Bumlets started walking towards the meeting place with his mind full of confused thoughts. Was Mush one of those newsies that the man saw? If it wasn't, where was he? If it was, where was he? Did Blink, Spot, or Jack find him? But the thought that haunted him most of all was, who'se the dead newsie, what happened, and where did that newsie go?
Jack grinned as he knocked on the Jacob's door.
"Jack?" David answered the door. "What're you doing here?"
"Jest visitin'. Where's Les?" Jack asked, surprised to not hear any high-pitched squeaks coming to greet him.
"He's at school."
"So... why aren't you? Your dad's not hoit again, is 'e?"
"Nah, I'm just sick, so I stayed home from school today."
"Oh, sorry 'bout dat. But-"
"You want to see Sarah?"
Jack blushed. "Well, yeah, but foist - 'ave ya' seen Mush lately?"
"Mush? No, why?"
"'Cause we can't find 'im. Race is unconscious, an' Mush decided 'e wanted ta go find out what 'appened, so yesta'day 'e left an' 'asn't come back."
"I'll keep an eye bout for him."
"T'anks. Where's Sarah?"
David shook his head and sighed. "Up on the roof. You know the way."
Jack grinned. "I sure do." With that, Jack headed towards the stairs.
"Sarah?" He called. "What'cha doin' up 'ere in da cold?"
"Jack!" Sarah smiled at him. "I'm getting some snow to put on David's head. He's got a terrible fever, and we need to bring down his temperature some."
Jack nodded. "Why don't'cha jest use ice?"
"Our freezer's frozen shut." Sarah answered simply.
"Ah, gotcha."
Sarah got all the snow she needed and headed back downstairs, followed closely by Jack. "David, get back in bed. Walking around is not going to bring down your temperature any!" Sarah exclaimed.
"I'm fine, Sarah." David frowned at his sister as she walked over and placed the back of her hand on his forehead.
"You're burning hot. Lay down, please."
David looked over at Jack. "I'd betta' go." Jack said quickly.
Neither Sarah nor David protested. "Okay." Sarah nodded, smiling at Jack.
"Yeah, and I'll keep an eye out for Mush for you. But keep me updated." David requested.
"I will. Get betta', Davy. Seeya." Jack left the building just in time to hear the clock strike.
Chapter 1
Racetrack breathed in the morning fragrance, stuffing his coarse hands into his pockets to save them from the bitter cold, his 'papes' tucked under his arm. He walked absent-mindedly through the cold winds, concentrating hard on one thought, though it made no sense to him, not even hearing the call of help from a fellow newsie as their papes fell to the alley ground, now splattered with that newsie's crimson blood.
"Help!" The pain-ridden words echoed everywhere, excluding Race's mind. "Please, I'se neva' did not'in' ta ya'! Please!" The newsie let out a wavering breath. "Help! Help! He-" The male's pleading voice ended abruptly, followed by a deadly silence.
Race took no notice to any of the horrible happenings. He hardly even seemed aware that blood was slowly seeping from his swollen nose to the snow-covered ground, leaving a trail of scarlet drops behind him. His feet dragged in the hard-packed snow, imprints of his saddle brown shoes being left in the snow.
"Race! Where ya' been?" Race's friend Spot's words went by his ears deafly. "Race?" Spot questioned, not used to being ignored. He was too feared by many - they wouldn't dare. But Race was his friend - he wasn't afraid to stand up to him, that was how their friendship was formed.
Spot's chocolate eyes were all that moved as they watched Race walk past him, until Spot ran up the stairs of the Newsboys Lodging House, bursting into the bunkroom. "Jack! 'ey, Jack!"
Jack waved Spot away. "Not now, Spot, I'se gonna win Itey at poka'. Since Race's not 'ere, I'se actually gonna win!"
Stubborn, Spot reached in front of Jack, pulling the cards away from him, "Itey, he's bluffing, he's only got one pair. You win."
While Itey walked away with a grin on his face, Jack's dark eyes glowered at the pokerfaced Spot. "What'dya' do dat for, 'eh?"
"It's 'bout Race. 'E's actin' real strange. C'mon wit' me outside to catch up wit' 'em and find out what's up. Let's go!" He exclaimed.
Jack sighed, standing leisurely, but yelped as Spot's hand closed around Jack's shirt collar, pulling Jack abruptly out of the bunkroom, down the stairs, and into the cold. "Spot!" Jack exclaimed, teeth chattering. "It's freezin'! Why are we out here?"
Spot moved his hand to the back of Jack's neck to make him look in the direction he was, towards the droplets of blood on the ground. Jack smirked. "I hope dat's da Delancys' blood."
"It ain't." Spot muttered grimly. He pointed to where the blood trailed around a corner to an alley where the newsies usually found one another, beat up.
Cocking an eyebrow, Jack forgot about the cold and ran around the corner, where Race was, laying face down in the knee-deep snow. "Told ya' it weren't da Delancy Bruddah's." Spot spoke softly as Jack turned Race over.
"Race?" Jack called. Though Race's dark eyes were wide open, he responded to nothing. "Spot, 'elp me carry 'im inta da lodgin' 'ouse."
Nodding, Spot held the door open, then raced up the stairs to the bunkroom. He slammed the door open. Everything went ghostly silent when Jack entered carrying Race. "Jack! What 'appened ta Race?" Mush scrambled to his feet, followed closely by Kid Blink.
"I dunno." Jack admitted, dropping Race gently down on a bunk bed.
Seconds went by, minutes soared, and hours passed.
"Why fight?" Race whispered, barely awake from his lengthy unconscious state.
Mush ran to his side, a glass of watcher clutched tightly in his hands; the same glass of water that he retrieved after Jack and Spot had each told what they knew. "Race?" He questioned desperately.
"Mush, I'se not sayin' ta give up, 'xactly, but... Mush, give up fer right now!" Jack told him. "He's been muttering almost those same woids fer hours, now! Rest! When's it's dark out, whaddya usually do?"
Mush didn't answer.
"Ya' rest, dat's what ya' do!"
Shaking his head, Mush threw the glass of water towards Jack, the water spurting in his face and the glass falling to the floor. "No." Mush gave a terse answer, then climbed out of the window to the fire escape so Kloppman wouldn't catch him leaving after hours.
The cold winter air chilled Mush to the bone. The others didn't understand. Race had been acting strange lately, and wouldn't even hint to Mush as to why. Now, Race was found, passed out in the snow? Followed by a trail of blood? Mush didn't like this, not at all. Something was wrong, and Mush felt that it was up to him to figure out what it was.
His feet seemed to stop automatically as he came to an alleyway. Why he stopped, he had no idea. But he intended to find out.
Mush walked warily into the dark alleyway, his eyes traveling downwards to show him at least ten unsold newspapers, scattered around. He kneeled and picked one up with his chapped and chilled hands. A gasp escaped his lips as he looked at another, and another - they were all covered in blood.
When Mush picked up the last newspaper, he observed that it was not only splattered with blood, but there was a shape on it. An arrow pointing up, created with blood. Slowly, Mush moved his head upwards, his eyes widening. In shock, he dropped the paper in his hands, but as he fainted, he fell abruptly to the ground before the newspaper did.
Above him, the newsie whose blood was spread on the newspapers hung from the top of the building, a rope around his neck, his eyes wide open, his bare feet dangling.
~~
"Anyone know where Mush is?" Kid Blink asked, worriedly.
"Nope." Jack answered, watching Race. "I ain't seen 'im since 'e ran out on us last night."
"Exactly my point." Blink pointed out, pacing as he thought out loud. "It ain't like Mush ta jest leave an' not come back fer so long. Somet'in's gotta be up." He stopped, determined. "We gotta go look for 'im."
"Kid - I'll look, but if I'se dun find 'im afta' two hours, den I'se comin' back 'ere ta tell you'se my findin's, an' den I'se goin' back home ta Brooklyn." Spot said bluntly. "If I'se stay away too long, den Fox pronounces me dead an' tries ta take ova'."
Blink nodded. "All right - I'se respect dat. Anyone else?" His light colored eye looked at Jack. "Stop hidin' unda' dat cowboy hat, Jack. Dis ain't jest fer Mush, but it might help Race, too."
"I'll go." A dark haired boy nicknamed Bumlets volunteered. "It may 'elp dem, but also your sanity." He stood, retrieving a walking stick that was leaning against his bunk bed.
"T'anks, Bum." Blink looked expectantly at Jack.
After a few long moments of ferocious staring, Jack caved in. "Awright, I'll go! Geezit, you'se stubborn."
Blink grinned. "Maybe, but it gotcha ta come, didn't it?"
"Anyone gots a jacket?" Jack asked, peering outside where snow was falling from the sky.
Throwing Jack a very worn down and thin jacket, Skittery teased, "Too cold fer ya', Kelly?"
"Aww, shut up." Jack pulled his cowboy hat onto his brown mop of hair, shoved his arms into the torn sleeves of Skittery's jacket, and followed Spot, Blink, and Bumlets outside.
"Okay," Spot took charge, ignoring the goosebumps that immediately arose on his arms as they walked into the bitter cold, "Whose goin' where? I'se got all da area from 'ere ta Brooklyn. If I'se find Mush, den I'se ain't comin' right back - it's too cold. I'll bring 'em ta Brooklyn, an' one 'a me boys'll come an' tell ya'."
Blink nodded. "Except fer you, Spot, we'll all meet back here in two hours. If ya' dun have a pocket watch, den just keep yer ears out - you'll hear da big clock strike da hours." After seeing the other two agree, he went on. "I'll search 'round the factory an' 'round da church."
"I'll look 'round da refuge ta make sure 'e didn't end up dere." Bumlets offered.
Jack gave him a grateful smirk. "I'll look at da distribution office an' at Tibby's... Hell, I'll even look at Davy's place."
Spot smirked. "Foist off, you'se goin' ta two warm places. Second 'a all, you'se jest wanna see Sarah."
Even in the severe cold, all the blood rushed to Jack's cheeks. "Davy, too. We ain't seem 'em much since he started school 'gain."
Disbelieving, Spot merely raised an eyebrow, turned around, and starting walking towards Brooklyn.
Blink frowned at Jack. "Jest dun waste too much time 'round Sarah, Jack."
"Yeah, yeah, I know." Jack mumbled under his breath, pushing Blink's words far from his mind as he started the short trip to the distribution office.
Blink watched his elder friend, then he spoke, half to himself, half to Bumlets. "Well, dat'll prob'ly be da last we see 'a 'im 'til tomorra'."
Bumlets chuckled, then waved his hand as he started his lengthy walk to the refuge, leaving Blink staring alone, just outside the Manhattan Lodging House for Newsboys. Sighing, he trudged through the deep snow in the direction of the church and factory.
Jack didn't expect to find Mush himself. Mush wouldn't be at the distribution office, it was too late for that. Mush also didn't have much of an appetite. After briefly scanning over both the office and Tibby's, Jack headed over to the Jacob's home, a smile on his face at the thought of Sarah.
"Please, Sista', if you see a newsie with a mush-like complexion and incredibly coily brown hair, could ya' bring 'im to da Manhattan Newboys Lodgin' House?"
The nun listening to Kid Blink nodded. "And what is this poor young soul's name?"
"Uhh..." Blink said slowly. He was one of the few that knew Mush's real name, and he wasn't about to tell anyone it. "Well, he responds ta Mush."
The nun merely smiled nicely and, thankfully, asked no questions. "We here at the church will be praying for him."
"Thanks." Blink smiled slightly. "I'll letcha know when we find 'im." As Blink turned to leave, in his mind, he was thinking, 'if we find him.'
Meanwhile, Bumlets snuck into the refuge. "'Ey, Joka'!" He hissed.
A boy of about sixteen looked through the bars on the door. "Hey Bum - what'cha doin' on that side 'a da bars?"
"Lookin' fer someone. 'Ave ya' seen Mush lately?"
"Mush? Nah. I haven't seen many a' yer lodgers lately. Only Snitch an' a couple a' odda's."
"But no Mush?"
"Nah. Is he missin'?"
Bumlets nodded. "Yeah. An' Race is unconscious, no one knows what 'appened."
"Geez, sounds like Blink would be next, considerin' da three a' dem are da Three Musketeers."
"Yeah..." Bum nodded. "Well, t'anks, and let someone know if 'e gets t'rown in, okay?"
Joker nodded. "Yeah, we'll let one a' yer sella's know."
"Okay, seeya lata'." Bumlets said, turning to sneak back out of the refuge - he had no intention on getting caught. He was about to turn a corner when he heard Snyder's voice. Snyder was talking to someone, but Bumlets didn't recognize the second voice.
"I saw two newsies today when I was in my carriage on my way here. One was unconscious - the other was dead - hanging from the top of a building. I couldn't stop in time to get to them, but I'm sure they're probably still there, sir."
"Where were they, exactly?" Bumlets could practically hear Snyder drooling at the thought of one more newsie for the refuge and one less newsie to deal with.
"They're in the alleyway between City Hall and Irving Hall, sir."
"Let me get my jacket, and then we can start there." Snyder said.
Bumlets' eyes widened. As soon as Snyder and the man walked into a nearby room, Bumlets raced around the corner, down the hall, and sneaked out of the building, then proceeding to run the great distance towards that alleyway. He cursed as he saw the carriage with Snyder and the unfamiliar man pass him just before he reached the alley. He tried his best to breathe quietly as he watched Snyder enter the alleyway.
"There's no one here! Only some bloody newspapers!' Snyder stomped out of the alley and into the waiting carriage. "Damn!" He exclaimed.
Hearing the chime of the town clock, Bumlets started walking towards the meeting place with his mind full of confused thoughts. Was Mush one of those newsies that the man saw? If it wasn't, where was he? If it was, where was he? Did Blink, Spot, or Jack find him? But the thought that haunted him most of all was, who'se the dead newsie, what happened, and where did that newsie go?
Jack grinned as he knocked on the Jacob's door.
"Jack?" David answered the door. "What're you doing here?"
"Jest visitin'. Where's Les?" Jack asked, surprised to not hear any high-pitched squeaks coming to greet him.
"He's at school."
"So... why aren't you? Your dad's not hoit again, is 'e?"
"Nah, I'm just sick, so I stayed home from school today."
"Oh, sorry 'bout dat. But-"
"You want to see Sarah?"
Jack blushed. "Well, yeah, but foist - 'ave ya' seen Mush lately?"
"Mush? No, why?"
"'Cause we can't find 'im. Race is unconscious, an' Mush decided 'e wanted ta go find out what 'appened, so yesta'day 'e left an' 'asn't come back."
"I'll keep an eye bout for him."
"T'anks. Where's Sarah?"
David shook his head and sighed. "Up on the roof. You know the way."
Jack grinned. "I sure do." With that, Jack headed towards the stairs.
"Sarah?" He called. "What'cha doin' up 'ere in da cold?"
"Jack!" Sarah smiled at him. "I'm getting some snow to put on David's head. He's got a terrible fever, and we need to bring down his temperature some."
Jack nodded. "Why don't'cha jest use ice?"
"Our freezer's frozen shut." Sarah answered simply.
"Ah, gotcha."
Sarah got all the snow she needed and headed back downstairs, followed closely by Jack. "David, get back in bed. Walking around is not going to bring down your temperature any!" Sarah exclaimed.
"I'm fine, Sarah." David frowned at his sister as she walked over and placed the back of her hand on his forehead.
"You're burning hot. Lay down, please."
David looked over at Jack. "I'd betta' go." Jack said quickly.
Neither Sarah nor David protested. "Okay." Sarah nodded, smiling at Jack.
"Yeah, and I'll keep an eye out for Mush for you. But keep me updated." David requested.
"I will. Get betta', Davy. Seeya." Jack left the building just in time to hear the clock strike.
