Free Companies Inc. Presents:
Brooklyn: One Rainy Day
By Keza: Queen of Procrastination
AN: The end draws near… and aye, have I dropped a lot of hints in this chapter! Ark. I didn't mean for them to be so blatant. -smacks forehead-
AN2: YES, when Mouse refers to himself in third person, it's purposeful! (He only does it a few times, but I thought I'd point it out anyway.)
This Chapter Sponsored By: Fuel's album "Sunburn."
Chapter Eight. Mouse.
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Mouse had taken his hat off and was scrunching it up nervously. Every so often he'd stop, stare at it, and then smooth it out. He listened to Wood and Spot's conversation with one ear, something he had grown quite good at. The other ear was taking in bits of Ore and Sling's conversation - he loved listening to those two, they were always so amusing.
"So, you willing to come along?" Ore was asking.
"You know I would… but… well, Katie ask-" Sling's clearly embarrassed sentence was soon cut off.
"Say no more, my good man," Ore chuckled. "I can get someone else. So, where are you meeting her?"
"Right at Eddie's. I've been saving for dinner."
"Eddie's? Isn't that right near-"
"Mouse. Come on," Spot appeared in front of Mouse, who squeaked in surprise and jammed his hat back on his head. Conlon was sneaky - small and quiet. Like Mouse, except Conlon didn't have fears and nervousness to hold him back. Mouse walked towards the docks with Spot, straining to hear the last of Ore's sentence, but the distance put him out of earshot.
"Mousey boy," Spot said, swinging down to a lower dock and settling himself comfortably on a bunched up net. "Boids been talkin' to ya lately?" Mouse glanced around the enclosed space, then swallowed and nodded. His hat reappeared in his hands. If Spot noticed the edgy trait, he didn't show it. "Yeah? What's the news?"
"Bronx ain't happy," he answered, cringing as his voice cracked. It did that constantly these days.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, 'specially that Lion. Dunno why." Spot stared reflectively off in to space for a moment, then shrugged.
"Me neither. Maybe he's jealous of me and my water view." Mouse managed a weak smile. "Lion's their new leader." Mouse nodded. "Boy's probably just cocky after his big win, already looking to bigger and better things." Spot shook his head. "Kids these days. Why doesn't he just come out and challenge me?"
"He likes dealing in alleyways better," Mouse answered quickly. Perhaps too quickly? Spots cold gaze flickered up. "Uhm, sneaky like that." he wrung his hat in his hands. "He knows he couldn't beat you in a fair fight," he added hastily. You could almost see Spot's ego inflate as he leaned back with a smirk.
"True, true. Anything else? You must have something else from roaming the shadows. You were gone for a few days," he pointed out.
"Uh… well, Manhattan is laying low like usual. Queens is having some internal dispute, but it won't get out of hand," he said, ticking the regions off on his fingers as he talked. "Midtown's in debt with Lower East Side - they aren't happy, and they're trying to get the Battery to help 'em out. Life is normal for everyone else," he finished.
"Yeah? What about Harlem?" Spot asked casually.
"Oh, Harlem, right. Behind us all the way. On the Bronx thing, I mean. Concerned about it. They'll back us up," he told Spot with an earnest nod. Spot studied him closely for a second, then closed his eyes.
"Good," he murmured. "Good."
"Where are you headed?" Watch's carefully spoken words brought Mouse to a stop. Your average thug, Watch was medium height and very broad, with dark blonde hair in a bowl cut. Though he was undyingly loyal to Spot, the only thing he was really good for was his skill with a club. Mouse knew dogs with more brainpower.
"Ah…" Mouse pondered for a moment on his words. "the Bronx," he said finally. "To do some spying." Always a safe answer. Watch nodded, apparently satisfied, and went back to staring out on the river. Mouse jogged off without hesitation. There were things to be done.
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"I'm not going into all out war with Spot Conlon! What kind of a fool do you think I am?" the boy spat, pacing around the dark room with his head bent and hands jammed into his pockets.
"That's not what I'm asking of you," Mouse claimed. His hat settled into its familiar position between his hands. "He just wants to know if-"
"Lion?" a new voice interrupted.
"What?" Lion snapped back. True to his name, he had a whole mess of white-blonde curls that sat on a slender frame with stormy blue eyes. Mouse couldn't remember the last time that he had seen the boy in a good mood.
The owner of the voice slipped in, a stocky figure with a bowler hat that half covered shifty eyes. Lion looked annoyed to see him.
"You again."
"Lion, One-eye wants to talk to you."
"Why the hell would I want to talk to One-"
"He isn't happy."
"Shit," Lion grumbled, his pace increasing. "This isn't about-" he cut himself off, eyes jumping to Mouse. Mouse continued to stare down at the floor silently. He looked at the boy again and raised his eyebrows suggestively. The boy nodded.
"Yeah, it is."
"I told him I'd pay him back!"
"Well, he needs it now."
"Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Is he here?"
"Yeah," the boy said, then scuttled out, as if fearing for his life. Mouse wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead with a shoulder. A second later Lion appeared in front of him and gripped his shoulders firmly.
"Nobody likes a rat," he hissed, accenting the last word. Mouse could only squeak in reply. "You make me sick," he continued, then half threw, half pushed, him off to the shadows. Mouse hit a wall hard, then rolled to his feet and exited through a side door as fast as he could. He hoped he could get back when Lion was in a better mood, or at least out of debt.
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"What did you hear?"
"What does it look like I heard?"
"Looks like you heard a wall."
"Hah. Get me a towel or something? I think it's swelling."
"Yeah, yeah, sure."
Mouse liked being here. He liked being treated with some sort of respect, even if it was twisted. He knew when he was being manipulated, but he also knew how to work that to his advantage.
"Sario! Get our guest a towel, hot water if you can find any" the other bellowed. A short Hispanic boy by the door nodded and left. The old wooden chair creaked as the boy - obviously the one in charge - turned back to Mouse. "Well? What did he say? Does he suspect anything?" Mouse relaxed back in his chair, as uncomfortable as it was. Doing so made him look - and feel - important.
"What did who say? Does who suspect anything?" the boy gave him a trying look, then handed him a wet cloth that Sario had returned with. Mouse dabbed it gently above his ear.
"You know who I mean," the boy said, watching Mouse carefully. Sensing he might be pushing it, Mouse started talking.
"Ohh, right," he said casually, taking his time to fold up the cloth and set it on the chair's one arm. "I, uh, had to leave before a definite decision was made… but I'm sure he's in. He needs the… the payoff." The boy nodded, satisfied.
"He knows everything? Time, location, stuff like that?"
"Everything."
"Same time, right?" the boy's eyebrows furrowed in worry.
"Same time," Mouse confirmed. The boy let out a breath and seemed to relax.
"Alright… ok… uh, you should probably head out." Mouse nodded and glanced across the room, where drops of moisture were winding tracks through a grime covered window.
It had started to rain.
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"We're gonna get some money off the Manhattan boys tonight, Mouse," Spot said from his bunk, where we was shuffling cards. "Want in?" Mouse looked down from where he had been, surprise, fiddling with his hat.
"Yeah," he said. "Sure." Spot looked up, startled. This was a first.
"Really?" Mouse nodded. "Ok, I'll deal ya in." he got off the bunk and meandered over to the washroom, where he went on to heckle Sling about his date. Mouse remained where we was, staring at the boards of the bunk above him. A few minutes later Sling hurried out, and Watch appeared in the doorway, with the Manhattaners in tow. Here goes Mouse's money, he thought grudgingly. Oh well. It was necessary.
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The door to the bunkroom banged open to admit Taffy, a tall, tawny skinned kid. His eyes were wide and he was out of breath. Like the others around the table, Mouse swapped his poker face for one of concern. Spot leapt up, dropping his cards to the floor, and rushed over.
"Ambushed!" Taffy exclaimed when he could talk. "Someone, I dunno, I think the Bronx. Sling was cornered - it'll be bad - I thought someone needed to warn you!" he sat down heavily on a vacated chair.
"The bastards!" Spot fumed. His glare turned on the Manhattan boys. "You promised-"
"Yeah, hey, we're already there," Skittery stood up, prompting the other boys to do the same. "Swifty, Manhattan?" Swifty fit his hat on his head, looking ready to be off at any moment. Spot glanced to Taffy.
"Will we need them?" Taffy's face flashed with panic, then he regained control and shook his head.
"No, I don't think so - not if you get more Brooklyn b-"
"Get them anyway," Spot told Swifty, ignoring Taffy. "I'm sure Jack will appreciate it. Think you can make it?" Swifty shrugged.
"I'll try." And then he was out the door.
"Mouse, can you get Harlem to come help? And pick up some strays on the way? I want this settled once and for all. Lion isn't gonna mess around with me anymore." there weren't many Brooklynders in the lodging house that night, they must have been out on the streets. Mouse nodded.
"Of course. Let me grab my coat-"
"Just hurry up!" Spot shot, trying to act angry but obviously excited for the coming fight. He hurried down the stairs with the Manhattan boys and a few others that were in the lodging house. Mouse listened to the door at the entrance slam, then dropped his coat back on the bed. Taffy grinned, "out of breath" no longer. Mouse's grin matched his.
"Thanks for the help," he told the older boy. "But do you think Manhattan could be a problem?" Taffy smirked and shook his head.
"They'll never get there in time," he said confidently, then gathered up the cards and dealt them out again, two piles. "Wanna play?"
"Yeah, sure, what're we playing?" Mouse picked up his pile and put down the top card. "How 'bout…. War."
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End Note: I know in the chapter before this one, Ore asks Swifty if the kid who told them about the fight was Mouse, and Swifty says "I guess." That means there's a chance it wasn't. Which was verified in this chapter. Just in case anyone thought I was, uh, -glances around- switching stuff around. I wasn't! It's all purposeful!