Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies. Or the Simpsons. Or the cure to the
common cold. I don't even own 2 cents. Actually, that's a lie. I am
really rich! I own three cents. *holds up three pennies triumphantly*
*Simpsons character appears out of nowhere and grabs money* *"Yonk!"*
Hey!
A/N: This is the fourth chap to my fic! Yay me! I just wanted to say R&R, which is, Read (or Don't Read) and Relax. I like Reviews too, though. *hint* *hint*
Chapter 4
"Face it, Becc. It's life!"
Lids, huffing and puffing and red in the face, stood, opposing her brother. Spot was as calm as usually, with only a little bit of temper shown by his expression. Only Rebecca could get him to yell like that. Even then, it wasn't easy to rile him up.
"I don't care if it's life! Look, these are your friends, Spot. At least you should try to help them!"
"To what end? People in Brooklyn risking their lives, to help people who can't be helped? No matter what you might think, I don't have a magic cure."
"I said you could try!"
"No one tried five years ago when we were sick, did they?"
"Manhattan'll say the same about you when the time comes."
"Too bad. I need to look after my newsies. Lids, I stand for their rights! The strike supported those rights, but this doesn't! And I'm not putting them in danger for some kids in the City!"
Lids stayed silent, trying to think up a plausible enough argument. Just as she started to open her mouth again, her brother turned his back on her. He spoke, quietly.
"Take anyone who'll go with you, Becc."
"Thanks, Spot. That's all I needed. It's an opening." And she stalked off.
Lids slumped towards the Brooklyn Bridge later that day, with the meager band of helpers she had managed to get. Five or six people, she guessed. Georgy, of course. Polo, Bowler, and Vamp were there. And the Twins. Counting again, Lids realized there were seven new recruits, including her dear friend, Slingshot Janie.
"Thanks for coming," Lids said. "I wouldn't have got anybody if not for you."
"It's nothing. What are friends for, hunh?" Sling replied casually.
"Try telling that to Spot," Lids muttered.
"Hey, now, that's not fair. Spot's a good leader and you know it."
"Right," Lids grumbled.
"I bet he wanted to go just as much as you did. But he's got responsibilities. Think about it, Lids."
"Well, I'm surprised this good leader is letting his goil go."
"I'm my own goil, and Spot knows that by now. 'Sides, you think he had a choice? He said take any newsie who would go. And I'd willingly let da bulls have him if he broke that promise." Slingshot smiled.
"And that's bad, coming from you." Lids looked around at her band of newsies. Georgy had dropped behind and was talking to some newsie. She called to him.
"Georgy, hurry up kid, or we're not waiting for you to yell over the Bridge!"
Georgy ran up to Lids. "Sorry, Lids. That newsie had something to tell me. He says that Spot sends a message through the grapevine. Says that he wants you to bring his newsies back safely." He started to stride alongside Lids and Sling. Lids walked taller. "If anyone gets hurt, he says that he's gonna have to do something drastic. Like banishing or something… Hey, wait up. Lids! Wait!" Georgy started to drop behind. Finally, he stopped, breathless, and rested his hands on his knees. "No fair! Your legs are longer than mine! Haven't you ever heard of not slaying the messenger!"
Lids stopped. She turned. "Sorry, Georgy. Spot just has me peaked, ya know?"
"S'all right, I know how you two bug each other," Georgy said.
Sling, who had stopped further on, motioned with her head up the Brooklyn Bridge, towards Manhattan. "Come on. It'll be dark by the time we get there, and quite frankly, I don't want to be wondering the streets at night."
Zelly took Luke to the kitchen and kept him washing dishes while Bronx talked with the nuns. Hopefully, he was young enough to stay with them even though the boarding house was girls only.
"Zelly," the little boy complained, lifting his soapy hands out of the water. "My fingers are all shriveled now. When can I stop?"
"Shh, Luke, be a good kid while Bronx is talking with the Sisters. When she's done, I'll take you to the common room and we'll play by the fire, okay?"
"'Kay." He looked at his hands again and stuck them back in the water. Zelly watched what he was doing.
"Oh no!" she cried. "Luke, roll up you sleeves. Here, like this." Luke stood, arms outstretched, watching Zelly roll up his soaked shirt sleeves. Then he turned around and stuck his hands back in the sink, reaching around for a plate. He pulled one out and started to dry it with the almost soaked dish towel.
"Here," Zelly said, reaching behind the kitchen door and retrieving another rag that hung on the hooks, "use this now."
"Where do I put the other one?"
"Just stick it on the side of the sink. Right there." Zelly smiled. "Good. Thanks for all your help, Luke."
The little boy beamed. "It's no problem. Is Bronx done yet?"
"Not yet." Right then Bronx walked in the room.
"See!" Luke exclaimed, running over to his older sister. "I told you she was done!" Zelly rolled her eyes.
"What did the nuns say?"
Bronx hugged Luke close to her. "They said it was fine."
"Woohoo!" Zelly shouted.
"But," she said, letting go of her brother and holding up her index finger, "He's in his own room. And he leaves when he's ten."
"Who cares? That's four years from now!" She shook her head back and forth gleefully. "Now, if ya don't mind, you have chores to finish. So there!" And grabbing Luke's hand, she raced to the common room. Bronx looked at the puddles of soapy water and the small pile of half dry dishes and shook her head.
"The nuns are gonna kick Lids out."
A/N: This is the fourth chap to my fic! Yay me! I just wanted to say R&R, which is, Read (or Don't Read) and Relax. I like Reviews too, though. *hint* *hint*
Chapter 4
"Face it, Becc. It's life!"
Lids, huffing and puffing and red in the face, stood, opposing her brother. Spot was as calm as usually, with only a little bit of temper shown by his expression. Only Rebecca could get him to yell like that. Even then, it wasn't easy to rile him up.
"I don't care if it's life! Look, these are your friends, Spot. At least you should try to help them!"
"To what end? People in Brooklyn risking their lives, to help people who can't be helped? No matter what you might think, I don't have a magic cure."
"I said you could try!"
"No one tried five years ago when we were sick, did they?"
"Manhattan'll say the same about you when the time comes."
"Too bad. I need to look after my newsies. Lids, I stand for their rights! The strike supported those rights, but this doesn't! And I'm not putting them in danger for some kids in the City!"
Lids stayed silent, trying to think up a plausible enough argument. Just as she started to open her mouth again, her brother turned his back on her. He spoke, quietly.
"Take anyone who'll go with you, Becc."
"Thanks, Spot. That's all I needed. It's an opening." And she stalked off.
Lids slumped towards the Brooklyn Bridge later that day, with the meager band of helpers she had managed to get. Five or six people, she guessed. Georgy, of course. Polo, Bowler, and Vamp were there. And the Twins. Counting again, Lids realized there were seven new recruits, including her dear friend, Slingshot Janie.
"Thanks for coming," Lids said. "I wouldn't have got anybody if not for you."
"It's nothing. What are friends for, hunh?" Sling replied casually.
"Try telling that to Spot," Lids muttered.
"Hey, now, that's not fair. Spot's a good leader and you know it."
"Right," Lids grumbled.
"I bet he wanted to go just as much as you did. But he's got responsibilities. Think about it, Lids."
"Well, I'm surprised this good leader is letting his goil go."
"I'm my own goil, and Spot knows that by now. 'Sides, you think he had a choice? He said take any newsie who would go. And I'd willingly let da bulls have him if he broke that promise." Slingshot smiled.
"And that's bad, coming from you." Lids looked around at her band of newsies. Georgy had dropped behind and was talking to some newsie. She called to him.
"Georgy, hurry up kid, or we're not waiting for you to yell over the Bridge!"
Georgy ran up to Lids. "Sorry, Lids. That newsie had something to tell me. He says that Spot sends a message through the grapevine. Says that he wants you to bring his newsies back safely." He started to stride alongside Lids and Sling. Lids walked taller. "If anyone gets hurt, he says that he's gonna have to do something drastic. Like banishing or something… Hey, wait up. Lids! Wait!" Georgy started to drop behind. Finally, he stopped, breathless, and rested his hands on his knees. "No fair! Your legs are longer than mine! Haven't you ever heard of not slaying the messenger!"
Lids stopped. She turned. "Sorry, Georgy. Spot just has me peaked, ya know?"
"S'all right, I know how you two bug each other," Georgy said.
Sling, who had stopped further on, motioned with her head up the Brooklyn Bridge, towards Manhattan. "Come on. It'll be dark by the time we get there, and quite frankly, I don't want to be wondering the streets at night."
Zelly took Luke to the kitchen and kept him washing dishes while Bronx talked with the nuns. Hopefully, he was young enough to stay with them even though the boarding house was girls only.
"Zelly," the little boy complained, lifting his soapy hands out of the water. "My fingers are all shriveled now. When can I stop?"
"Shh, Luke, be a good kid while Bronx is talking with the Sisters. When she's done, I'll take you to the common room and we'll play by the fire, okay?"
"'Kay." He looked at his hands again and stuck them back in the water. Zelly watched what he was doing.
"Oh no!" she cried. "Luke, roll up you sleeves. Here, like this." Luke stood, arms outstretched, watching Zelly roll up his soaked shirt sleeves. Then he turned around and stuck his hands back in the sink, reaching around for a plate. He pulled one out and started to dry it with the almost soaked dish towel.
"Here," Zelly said, reaching behind the kitchen door and retrieving another rag that hung on the hooks, "use this now."
"Where do I put the other one?"
"Just stick it on the side of the sink. Right there." Zelly smiled. "Good. Thanks for all your help, Luke."
The little boy beamed. "It's no problem. Is Bronx done yet?"
"Not yet." Right then Bronx walked in the room.
"See!" Luke exclaimed, running over to his older sister. "I told you she was done!" Zelly rolled her eyes.
"What did the nuns say?"
Bronx hugged Luke close to her. "They said it was fine."
"Woohoo!" Zelly shouted.
"But," she said, letting go of her brother and holding up her index finger, "He's in his own room. And he leaves when he's ten."
"Who cares? That's four years from now!" She shook her head back and forth gleefully. "Now, if ya don't mind, you have chores to finish. So there!" And grabbing Luke's hand, she raced to the common room. Bronx looked at the puddles of soapy water and the small pile of half dry dishes and shook her head.
"The nuns are gonna kick Lids out."