Okay, here's the next chap. But something has drastically changed! I now own everything Newsies and everything else in the whole world! You know how I know this? My rice crispies told me so. They also told me that I'm a silly git who believes everything anyone tells me, but I think they might've been joking on that one. Because all they've ever told me is that I'm the owner of everything. What do you think they meant by it?
Also, words like this* with the * are meant to be in italics.
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Savannah urged her poor tired horses back onto the road. It had taken nearly three hours to get the new wheel on. She'd had to load everything off the wagon firsst, and then when she was done, she had to put it all back on. By the time she was finished with all that, she was so mad at those city boys that she probably could've soaked them all five at once. Well, she couldn't have * actually * soaked them, but she sure wanted to.
"Come on, girls," she encouraged the horses ", It's only a little further." She drifted off into her thoughts, as traveling this road was as akin to her as her own home. Savannah lived only three miles further down the road, on a small, four acre farm. Her grandfather had purchased the lot way back when he immigrated from England, and had built the old farm house himself. It had passed on to her father, his only child, after his death, fourteen years later. Her father had worked hard, buying another acre from the neighboring farmer, before his own death in a freak accident when Savannah was only twelve. Three years after that, her mother, the community school teacher, had contracted a wasting disease from one of her pupils. It was nearly a week before she really started feeling ill, and by then, it had been passed on to each of her own five children. Daniel, Savannahs youngest brother, had died only two weeks after, leaving a gaping hole in the hearts of the whole family. Her mother gave up hope then, and wasted away only days after. Her two sisters had gone next, then Savannah had started to feel better. Her and her older brother, Matthew, her last remaining relative, had thought that she was going numb from grief.
That didn't make much sense as of later, when Savannah was actually well enough to get out of bed on her own. The neighbor her father had bought land from, Mr. Chappelow, and his wife Nellie, decided that she was better and could take care of her brother and herself. They went back to their own home, and left a fifteen year old Savannah and her sixteen year old seriously ill brother alone. While Savannah got better, Matthew got worse. He fought it as long as he could, forcing himself to get up and to eat more. All in vain, however when he fell asleep one night and never woke back up. Savannah blamed herself.
She shook herself and wiped away the tear that was threatening to spill over. "I don't cry." She told herself. She rounded the next bend and was forced to pulloff the road once again, as the wagon that had passed her earlier was right in the middle of the road. She slowed, curiosity getting the better of her. She smiled to herself, as she remembered a time before Daddy had died, when she and her mother had come upon something much the same, an abandoned wagon, discarded into the brush. She had gone over, and her mother had said, 'You do realize, Savannah, that curiosity killed the cat.' Savannah had turned around and said innocently, 'But Mother. I'm not a cat.'
But there was no Mother telling her to move along this time and she could look all ahe wanted. The boys were gone, so she got out of her wagon to have a closer look. She couldn't believe what she saw. Those poor horses were lying dead, from exhaustion, she supposed, all tangled up in their harnesses. She moved closer, and saw that one of the horses hhad actually been shot. She wondered if that one had died before or after they had fallen. She cursed the boys, using surprising creativity for a 'lady' as she supposed she was supposed to be. She silently reminded herself to send message to the police when she got back home.
She checked the wagon itself then, and almost laughed when she saw that there was nothing wrong with it at all. "Stupid City Boys! If it was my wagon, I wouldv'e tried to pull it myself before leaving it like this!" She began to go back to her horses, but stopped suddenly. She thought she had heard something, but there was nothing now. 'Stop being silly!' she chided herself. But then there it was again. It was someone moaning quietly, like they were having a bad dream. 'Could someone be out there?' She was beginning to be frightened now. Had those boys really left, or were they all still there, waiting in the trees that lined the road opposite where she stood. Her mind was racing, going through all the horror stories she had heard about what can happen to girls all alone. The moaning came again, a little louder. She almost tripped over her own feet as she turned and raced back to her wagon. She climbed up and fumbled with the reins before she heard it again. This time, it sounded like the person was hurt. Curiosity got the better of her once again and she sat there to see if she'd hear it again. 'Mother was right.' She said in her head. 'Curiosity did kill the cat.' She tried to find with her eyes where the moaning was coming from, but she couldn't.
Standing up on the buck board, she was able to see more. When the moaning came one last time, she was able to place it in the run-off ditch, between the tree line and the road. Was it someone hurt by the boys? Was it one of the boys? Were they hurt when the hoses had died? Or was it something else entirely? She sat back down and tried to tell herself to just ignore it and go home. The bulls could deal with whatever it was when they got there. She looked back over, and saw a slight movement in the ditch. 'Dammit. I just had to see them, didn't I.' Now that she had actually seen something, she couldn't walk away. She was a farm girl, crude, and alone, but she had a very strict moral code. And right now she hated the darned thing for not letting her drive away. She rolled her eyes and got back on to the ground, grabbing a horse shoe out of the back, just in case.
She crept nervously around the boys wagon, then raised her arm, holding the horse shoe as a weapon. She reach the point where she could see the person, and swallowed hard. She stepped closer as the person moaned again, and rolled over, finally awake. She recognized him as the third boy from the back of the wagon, the one who had been passed out. Her eyes widened and she stepped back as he sat up. She gasped out loud as the moonlight fell across his face. (Ack! That could* be interpreted as a corny romance line! Thank ye Gods that this fic is NOT ROMANCE!! ~Author) He looked like shit. His eyes were both swelled, one so bad he couldn't open it, and both his lips were split. His cheeks were one large mass of bruising and red marks, and it looked like his nose was broken. This was quite obviously not* done by the horses dying.
He struggled to sit up, and she saw that his shirt was soaked with blood. She dropped the horseshoe and rushed to his side. He jerked away from her touch, swinging his fist at her. She dodged easily; He was very slow from being injured. She stepped over so he could see her better, and squatted down, mindful of her only good*dress. He looked up at her, confused, and then at his surroundings. 'He doesn't have any idea where he is!' She told herself. 'Boy, won't this* be fun.' She added sarcastically. "Where am I?" He asked softly, like it hurt to speak. Which it probably did, due to his swollen lips.
"By the side of the road. I'm Savannah. Who are you?"
"Sp-*cough*-Spot. Spot Conlon." He coughed again, more violently. She furrowed her brow in concern.
"Are you gonna be all right? No offense, but you look like shit*. Can you even get up?"
He frowned indignantly, and considered it for a moment. He shifted his weight a bit, then tried to stand. He collapsed right away, holding his side. He gave her an angry stare. "I suppose you'se tink it's funny, Spot Conlon not even bein able ta get up." He forced himself to talk evenly through the obvious pain.
"I don't think it's funny, I think it's kind of sad. And why are you talking in third person?"
"Shut up. Gimme you'se han'." She automatically put out her hand, and he grasped it tightly, hauling himself to his feet, then almost falling again. She put her arm around his back and helped him out of the ditch to his wagon. There she let go, and he braced himself on it. She looked down at her dress, and saw three dark spots on the rich green material.
"Great. You've got blood on me dress."
"Could be woise."
"Yeah? How?"
"It could be you'se blood. Or it could be Dellancey blood. Or it could be regula' newsie blood." He added the last bit as an afterthought, finding it funny. Savannah didn't get it.
"Regular?"
"I'se Spot Conlon."
"You've already told me that. What's that got to do with anything?"
"I'se da leadah a Brooklyn newsies. I'se pretty fah outside da city, den, ain't I." It wasn't a question, but she answered anyway.
"About eighteen miles out. How did you get here? I know the wagon and all, but why*?"
"Honestly, I don' know. Da Dellancey bruddahs an some a deah scabbahs jumped me in da back streets. I, damnit, I guess I passed ou'. Jacky-boy's gonna gloat on dis one."
"Wha-"
"Nevah min'. Is deah sum wheah's I can siddown at?"
"You could come to my house. It's only about a mile."
"Do we gotta walk?"
"No. My wagon..." She waved her hand over her shoulder. He sighed, relieved, and began to push himself forwards, still leaning on the other wagon. She helped him once he ran out of wagon, and then climbed up herself. "Oh! I nearly forgot..." She jumped back down and ran back to the ditch. "The horseshoe." She said when she got back, as if it explained everything.
"What da hell is dat foah?" Spot asked.
"Well..." She was reluctant to tell him; It sounded awful silly now. "Protection." She said finally.
He nodded, then lapsed into silence for the reast of the short trip. 'Probably a good thing, too.' Savannah thought. 'It has to hurt to talk. He is talking awfully* funny.'
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Okay, a long chapter, yeah, and I haven't decided what Jack's gonna say yet. And please, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease, please* review and vote!
1.How long will it take Spot to recover?
A) a week
B) a month
C) a summer
2.And Will he find his sister, or was it really a plot by the Dellancey's?
A) Sister
B) Plot
Vote and Ye shall Receive!
Oh, and P.S. Please Review!!
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Also, words like this* with the * are meant to be in italics.
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Savannah urged her poor tired horses back onto the road. It had taken nearly three hours to get the new wheel on. She'd had to load everything off the wagon firsst, and then when she was done, she had to put it all back on. By the time she was finished with all that, she was so mad at those city boys that she probably could've soaked them all five at once. Well, she couldn't have * actually * soaked them, but she sure wanted to.
"Come on, girls," she encouraged the horses ", It's only a little further." She drifted off into her thoughts, as traveling this road was as akin to her as her own home. Savannah lived only three miles further down the road, on a small, four acre farm. Her grandfather had purchased the lot way back when he immigrated from England, and had built the old farm house himself. It had passed on to her father, his only child, after his death, fourteen years later. Her father had worked hard, buying another acre from the neighboring farmer, before his own death in a freak accident when Savannah was only twelve. Three years after that, her mother, the community school teacher, had contracted a wasting disease from one of her pupils. It was nearly a week before she really started feeling ill, and by then, it had been passed on to each of her own five children. Daniel, Savannahs youngest brother, had died only two weeks after, leaving a gaping hole in the hearts of the whole family. Her mother gave up hope then, and wasted away only days after. Her two sisters had gone next, then Savannah had started to feel better. Her and her older brother, Matthew, her last remaining relative, had thought that she was going numb from grief.
That didn't make much sense as of later, when Savannah was actually well enough to get out of bed on her own. The neighbor her father had bought land from, Mr. Chappelow, and his wife Nellie, decided that she was better and could take care of her brother and herself. They went back to their own home, and left a fifteen year old Savannah and her sixteen year old seriously ill brother alone. While Savannah got better, Matthew got worse. He fought it as long as he could, forcing himself to get up and to eat more. All in vain, however when he fell asleep one night and never woke back up. Savannah blamed herself.
She shook herself and wiped away the tear that was threatening to spill over. "I don't cry." She told herself. She rounded the next bend and was forced to pulloff the road once again, as the wagon that had passed her earlier was right in the middle of the road. She slowed, curiosity getting the better of her. She smiled to herself, as she remembered a time before Daddy had died, when she and her mother had come upon something much the same, an abandoned wagon, discarded into the brush. She had gone over, and her mother had said, 'You do realize, Savannah, that curiosity killed the cat.' Savannah had turned around and said innocently, 'But Mother. I'm not a cat.'
But there was no Mother telling her to move along this time and she could look all ahe wanted. The boys were gone, so she got out of her wagon to have a closer look. She couldn't believe what she saw. Those poor horses were lying dead, from exhaustion, she supposed, all tangled up in their harnesses. She moved closer, and saw that one of the horses hhad actually been shot. She wondered if that one had died before or after they had fallen. She cursed the boys, using surprising creativity for a 'lady' as she supposed she was supposed to be. She silently reminded herself to send message to the police when she got back home.
She checked the wagon itself then, and almost laughed when she saw that there was nothing wrong with it at all. "Stupid City Boys! If it was my wagon, I wouldv'e tried to pull it myself before leaving it like this!" She began to go back to her horses, but stopped suddenly. She thought she had heard something, but there was nothing now. 'Stop being silly!' she chided herself. But then there it was again. It was someone moaning quietly, like they were having a bad dream. 'Could someone be out there?' She was beginning to be frightened now. Had those boys really left, or were they all still there, waiting in the trees that lined the road opposite where she stood. Her mind was racing, going through all the horror stories she had heard about what can happen to girls all alone. The moaning came again, a little louder. She almost tripped over her own feet as she turned and raced back to her wagon. She climbed up and fumbled with the reins before she heard it again. This time, it sounded like the person was hurt. Curiosity got the better of her once again and she sat there to see if she'd hear it again. 'Mother was right.' She said in her head. 'Curiosity did kill the cat.' She tried to find with her eyes where the moaning was coming from, but she couldn't.
Standing up on the buck board, she was able to see more. When the moaning came one last time, she was able to place it in the run-off ditch, between the tree line and the road. Was it someone hurt by the boys? Was it one of the boys? Were they hurt when the hoses had died? Or was it something else entirely? She sat back down and tried to tell herself to just ignore it and go home. The bulls could deal with whatever it was when they got there. She looked back over, and saw a slight movement in the ditch. 'Dammit. I just had to see them, didn't I.' Now that she had actually seen something, she couldn't walk away. She was a farm girl, crude, and alone, but she had a very strict moral code. And right now she hated the darned thing for not letting her drive away. She rolled her eyes and got back on to the ground, grabbing a horse shoe out of the back, just in case.
She crept nervously around the boys wagon, then raised her arm, holding the horse shoe as a weapon. She reach the point where she could see the person, and swallowed hard. She stepped closer as the person moaned again, and rolled over, finally awake. She recognized him as the third boy from the back of the wagon, the one who had been passed out. Her eyes widened and she stepped back as he sat up. She gasped out loud as the moonlight fell across his face. (Ack! That could* be interpreted as a corny romance line! Thank ye Gods that this fic is NOT ROMANCE!! ~Author) He looked like shit. His eyes were both swelled, one so bad he couldn't open it, and both his lips were split. His cheeks were one large mass of bruising and red marks, and it looked like his nose was broken. This was quite obviously not* done by the horses dying.
He struggled to sit up, and she saw that his shirt was soaked with blood. She dropped the horseshoe and rushed to his side. He jerked away from her touch, swinging his fist at her. She dodged easily; He was very slow from being injured. She stepped over so he could see her better, and squatted down, mindful of her only good*dress. He looked up at her, confused, and then at his surroundings. 'He doesn't have any idea where he is!' She told herself. 'Boy, won't this* be fun.' She added sarcastically. "Where am I?" He asked softly, like it hurt to speak. Which it probably did, due to his swollen lips.
"By the side of the road. I'm Savannah. Who are you?"
"Sp-*cough*-Spot. Spot Conlon." He coughed again, more violently. She furrowed her brow in concern.
"Are you gonna be all right? No offense, but you look like shit*. Can you even get up?"
He frowned indignantly, and considered it for a moment. He shifted his weight a bit, then tried to stand. He collapsed right away, holding his side. He gave her an angry stare. "I suppose you'se tink it's funny, Spot Conlon not even bein able ta get up." He forced himself to talk evenly through the obvious pain.
"I don't think it's funny, I think it's kind of sad. And why are you talking in third person?"
"Shut up. Gimme you'se han'." She automatically put out her hand, and he grasped it tightly, hauling himself to his feet, then almost falling again. She put her arm around his back and helped him out of the ditch to his wagon. There she let go, and he braced himself on it. She looked down at her dress, and saw three dark spots on the rich green material.
"Great. You've got blood on me dress."
"Could be woise."
"Yeah? How?"
"It could be you'se blood. Or it could be Dellancey blood. Or it could be regula' newsie blood." He added the last bit as an afterthought, finding it funny. Savannah didn't get it.
"Regular?"
"I'se Spot Conlon."
"You've already told me that. What's that got to do with anything?"
"I'se da leadah a Brooklyn newsies. I'se pretty fah outside da city, den, ain't I." It wasn't a question, but she answered anyway.
"About eighteen miles out. How did you get here? I know the wagon and all, but why*?"
"Honestly, I don' know. Da Dellancey bruddahs an some a deah scabbahs jumped me in da back streets. I, damnit, I guess I passed ou'. Jacky-boy's gonna gloat on dis one."
"Wha-"
"Nevah min'. Is deah sum wheah's I can siddown at?"
"You could come to my house. It's only about a mile."
"Do we gotta walk?"
"No. My wagon..." She waved her hand over her shoulder. He sighed, relieved, and began to push himself forwards, still leaning on the other wagon. She helped him once he ran out of wagon, and then climbed up herself. "Oh! I nearly forgot..." She jumped back down and ran back to the ditch. "The horseshoe." She said when she got back, as if it explained everything.
"What da hell is dat foah?" Spot asked.
"Well..." She was reluctant to tell him; It sounded awful silly now. "Protection." She said finally.
He nodded, then lapsed into silence for the reast of the short trip. 'Probably a good thing, too.' Savannah thought. 'It has to hurt to talk. He is talking awfully* funny.'
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Okay, a long chapter, yeah, and I haven't decided what Jack's gonna say yet. And please, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease, please* review and vote!
1.How long will it take Spot to recover?
A) a week
B) a month
C) a summer
2.And Will he find his sister, or was it really a plot by the Dellancey's?
A) Sister
B) Plot
Vote and Ye shall Receive!
Oh, and P.S. Please Review!!
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