Hey guys, I'm back from Nebraska, and I have the next chapter for you all!
Thanks: Liriana: THEY AREN'T BUYING A PONY! DEAL WITH IT! :::smiles:: Thanks for the review!
Rae Kelly: Spot kill Bane?…Maybe…or maybe I'll make everyone die! Hahahaha! :::stops laughing::: Thanks for the review
Disclaimer: I don't own newsies! Must I keep telling you that, it's not like I fell bad enough already. But all San Francisco newsies are mine. Muhahahaha!
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"ALRIGHT YOU GUYS WAKE UP!" cried the rough voice of Bane in the boys bedroom. His yells caused the girls to roll out of their beds groaning. They proceeded to get dressed and covered their eyes as they were forced to walk through the boys room to get to the hallway. It was a ritual the newsies knew all too well.
After all the newsies stepped outside they made their way to the distribution office. A small old man, who reminded the New York newsies, a lot like Kloppmen, ran the office. The man went by the name of William.
Since the Sanders children had to meet Thomason later on in the morning. They decided not to sell papes that morning. But sent the New York newsies with some of the best San Franciscan newsies. Sherlock took Spot because Sherlock was the only newsie they knew that would bring them both home in one piece. Art and Small Talk, the brothers decided to take Jack around. Right and Left offered to take Racetrack. Smarts said she'd take Specs saying that they needed to talk anyway, Mute and Mush volunteered to sell together and Blink, Heights and Chinchilla grouped together. Once the four siblings were sure that all the newsies were alright and satisfied that they would see each other again and in one piece, they made their way to the address on the card.
"I can't wait until Blink tells me how his day selling with Chinchilla," Ramble sat down on the seat in the trolley.
"It won't be dull," Marbles agreed with her sister, "that's for sure."
"No guys," Prankster debated, "we gave Race Right and Left."
The siblings nodded their heads in agreement, but then Killjoy made his argument.
"But we did give Sherlock, Spot."
"I don't know who to feel sorry for, Spot or Sherlock," Ramble shook her head.
"I really don't know who has it worse." Prankster stood up to stand on the edge of the trolley. While her siblings were sitting down.
"We should be there soon," Prankster changed the subject, looking for the street name. "There it is," Prank pointed up a street ahead.
"We'll have to jump." Killjoy pointed out.
"Thank you master of the obvious, I suppose you're going to say that we have to stand up too." Marbles smiled at her brother.
"You know Marbles," Ramble began, "those who live in glass houses-" Ramble was cut off by Marbles.
"Ahh shut up!"
"Jump now," Prankster said calmly and then jumped off the trolley onto the empty street. Prank hit the ground too had and nearly lost her balance. Marbles and Killjoy were wobbling too. Ramble, however, managed a beautiful landing and continued walking without difficulty.
"How does she do that?" Killjoy joked to his twin.
"I don't know," Prankster shook her head, "I think she just remembers quickly."
The four continued walking down the street until they came across the building. It stood tall, but it looked dull and boring with the outside painted a dull brown color. Killjoy held the down open and allowed his sisters entrance into the building first.
The siblings walked up to the front desk. Ramble stood about a foot away from the desk, while Prankster set her arms on the desk to lean on. Marbles put her elbows on the furniture and held her head up with her hands. Killjoy leaned against desk like his twin, Prank, was doing. The secretary looked up from her book, obviously annoyed being interrupted by four children.
"May I help you?" she asked in a rough voice.
"You can sure try," Prankster smiled, "we're the Sanders siblings, we need to speak to an Andrew Thomason."
"Do you have an appointment?" she questioned rudely.
"Should be for 9:30," Killjoy spoke to the bitchy receptionist.
She looked at her records and after seeing that the four were, indeed, expected, she sighed and said.
"Room 304." She returned her eyes back to her book.
"Why thank you," Prankster said in an over happy voice but then lowered her voice to mutter, "ya blond bitch."
"What was that?" the lady asked.
"I said I have a back itch." Prankster thought of a lie quickly. (A.N. has anyone seen that south park? It's one of my favs…moving on)
The siblings snickered at Pranksters ability to think quickly on her feet and made their way up the stairs to the third floor. Killjoy knocked on the door of 304. A man opened the door and motioned the kids inside. The man was indeed, Mr. Thomason.
"Good morning," he greeted.
The children all said their greetings to the older man and took a seat in front of his desk. The children felt uncomfortable sitting on the leather seats. Prankster felt like she was sinking into the furniture. Thomason sat on the other side of the desk and began to explain all the legal information.
"After this meeting," Thomason concluded, "you'll be given your money and you'll be free to go wherever you like."
"Sound alright to me." Killjoy responded to the man. The girls nodded their heads. Thomason's face then grew stern.
"I'd advise you tell nobody else about the money, we are in San Francisco." He warned the children.
"Do you think San Francisco is any different then New York?" Killjoy asked in disbelief. Thomason nodded in agreement.
"Very well," he pushed his chair back and stood up. The children stood up as well.
"Here it is." Thomason handed each child a plain briefcase. "Spend it well." All the children's arms dropped when they were handed their briefcase. They were nearly pushed out the door of the office.
"I suggest we take these," Prankster held up her briefcase, "to the lodging house and fast."
"Yeah," Ramble agreed, "carrying around this-" Ramble looked around, remembering her surroundings, "is just asking for trouble."
The kids hopped a trolley and went to the lodging house. After hiding their money the made their way out to the beautiful outside. The time was just barely 12:00 noon. The Sanders children began walking downhill to a small café that was located at the bottom of the hill. It was the San Franciscan's spot for lunch. They pulled the door open, finding the only newsies there were Art, his 9-year-old brother Small Talk and Jack. It always paid to have a little kid when selling.
"Hey guys," Marbles smiled and pulled a chair up, her siblings doing the same.
"Did you have a hard time selling?" Ramble inquired.
Art shook his head, "Nah! Jack is a born newsie!"
"Yeah!" Small Talk agreed with his 17-year-old brother.
"Jack's in one piece, so everything must've gone alright." Pranks smiled.
"Yeah, but Sherlock and Spot are going to have problems." Killjoy joked.
"Either that, or Right and Left are going to kill Race." Marbles started shaking with laughter.
The door was swung open violently as Sherlock and Spot entered the restaurant in heated debate.
"I'se say ya shoudda let me soak 'em,"
"Soak?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow, "I swear you have the most improper grammar on the face of the earth."
"Ya wanna say dat again," Spot raised his fists ready to give the older boy a black eye. Killjoy, however, was quick enough to stop them.
"Guys, not inside, have a seat," Killjoy played peacekeeper. Grateful to get away form the annoying newsie form Brooklyn Sherlock nearly sprinted away from Spot. Spot huffed and took Killjoy's seat as not to be beaten. Not wanting to fight the Brooklyn leader Killjoy simply pulled up another chair. Peace had settled on the café when the door opened again. A bickering trio entered.
" Racetrack you can't smoke around Left," Right calmly said.
"Why'se not?" Race was very annoyed that his tour guides weren't letting him smoke.
"He an asthmatic." Right smiled.
"A what?" Racetrack raised his eyebrow.
"It means he doesn't breath all that well and cigar smoke doesn't help." Right defended her friend.
"She's joking," Left spoke up; "she just doesn't like cigar smoke." The trio sat down near the four siblings.
"I'se can see why dey's call ya Right an' Left." Race sighed.
"Best friends," Left began, Right then finished his sentence.
"Total opposites."
The door swung open again, Mock and Twitch burst into the room.
"So the bartender says 'that's a hand?'" Mock finished telling a joke, sending Twitch into hysterics. The best friends waved at their friends and they took a seat at another table.
The next group to enter was Mush and Mute, followed by Heights, Chinchilla and Blink. They seemed disappointed that there was no more room at Pranksters table, but they pulled their chairs up at the next table. Soon the only people missing were Specs and Smarts.
"It's been real quiet," Marbles pointed out, looking around to see why.
"That's because Smarts isn't here." Ramble giggled.
"Yeah," Porridge, the Chinese newsie agreed. "Where are they?"
"Well," Prankster spoke up, "after last night, I think they got a lot to talk about." She then continued eating.
"Neva seen Specs like dat befoah," Mush added.
"Dat boy was floatin' in da clouds last night." Jack added his comment.
"Don't tink dat boys gonna be single for long," Blink grinned.
"Well," Art raised his glass for a toast, "here's to Smartass not killing Specs." Art grinned.
"I'll drink to that," Prankster smiled and raised her glass. Marbles and Ramble did also. No one else went with the joke.
"You're killjoys," Marbles accused, "all of you."
"Hey," The restaurant of newsies defended themselves.
"That was low," Right scolded.
The door chimed dinged and the newsies turned to see who was at the door. Two figures entered the room. Specs held his hat in his hand, revealing his messy and out of place hair. His other hand held most of the papes that he bought that morning. His clothes were wrinkled and he had a grin that took up most of his face. Smarts looked as messed up as Specs, hair messy, clothes wrinkled and lots of papes left over. The two strutted into the room holding hands.
"So," Prankster picked up her drink, "how'd the talk go?" she asked taking a sip of her water.
"I'd say 'twas very successful." Smarts beamed.
"Get a lot accomplished?" Marbles asked motioning to the left over papes.
"I'se say we'se did." Specs grinned.
"Not in selling papes," joked the Latino newsie named Dragon.
"Shut up!" Smarts cried at her friend.
"It's 'bout time ya got yaself a goil," Racetrack slapped Specs' back.
"Yeah," Mush agreed.
"For a while," Blink grinned, "we'se pegged ya for one of 'dose' men."
"What?" Mush asked, once again confused.
"Ask Marbles," The Racetrack and Blink said at the same time.
Mush turned his head toward his girl. Marbles held her hands up defensively.
"I'm not touching this one," Marbles quickly said.
Soon the newsies finished their lunch and stood up to leave the restaurant.
"So," Race put his cigar in his mouth, "whad'do ya guys do for fun?" he lit his match.
"We get out and enjoy the sun before the fog comes around," Banjo answered Race's question.
"And we don't have that long," Chinchilla put her pocket watch away, "I suggest that we just go back to the lodging house and party there."
The group nodded and started back up the hill, the San Francisco newsies making it up in record time. The New York newsies, however, were almost crawling up the hill. Spaniel, the 14-year-old cousin of Sherlock, glanced back at the struggling newsies.
"Come on you guys," Spaniel cried, "this hill ain't that bad."
That's 'this hill isn't that bad." Sherlock corrected his cousin.
Spaniel rolled his eyes at his cousins' need for everyone to speak proper grammar. But he admired Sherlock's restraint at bursting at the New York newsies grammar. The newsies arrived at the lodging house just in time for the fog to start rolling in.
"The fog looks bad today," Daisy shivered, holding on to the already wilting daisy she found earlier that day.
"Hope nobody was planing on going anywhere," Small Talk removed his jacket and nearly sprinted to his bottom bunk. Heights climbed on his bunk above Small Talk, Sparky sat on his bottom bunk next to Small Talk and the three boys began interrogating Sparky about what New York was like. Banjo, true to his name, grabbed his banjo from the case and started practicing it. Sherlock began reading quietly on his top bunk. Art took out his paper and charcoal that was given to him as a gift form the rest of the newsies on his last birthday and began drawing the New York newsies without them knowing it. The other newsies began talking on their bunks and relaxed.
Two figures entered the main room. One was very familiar to the San Fran newsies, the other nobody knew. The older one was a female. She looked to be in her 40's. Her hair was beginning to turn white and her eyes sparkled a pure blue.
"Heya Claire," was the greeting most of the newsies gave.
"Hello," the women, Claire, greeted. She looked around the room seeing some new faces, and became shocked when she recognized the face of Prankster and her siblings.
"Not that I don't mind," Claire smiled, "but I thought you all were in New York."
"We just missed you so much," Ramble joked, "that we decided to come back here."
"Actually," Killjoy stepped forward, "we had to attend to some issues here, we're leaving in two weeks."
"But we brought some friends from New York," Prankster hopped off of Race's bed.
"Guys, this is Claire, she's the owner of the joint so be nice to her." Prankster smiled. "Claire, these are the guys."
"Hello," she greeted quickly; she then turned to look for someone.
"Porridge," Claire cried.
"Can I help ya?" Porridge rushed towards Iris.
"I hope so," She said softly and then pointed to the other figure that was hiding behind her. It was a small boy, no older then eight. He was obviously from Asian decent and looked nearly half starved from the boat ride to America.
"I found this boy wandering the streets," She sighed. "My guess is he's an orphan from the ride to America…is he speaking Chinese?" she asked Porridge.
"One way to find out," Porridge told told and then leaned down on one knee so he was face to face with the child. He began speaking Chinese to the boy, but when the child spoke back, a confused expression on his face, Porridge sighed and stood up.
"No it's not Chinese, I think it's Japanese, but I can't be too sure," Porridge sighed in defeat.
"Ramble," Prankster called her sister, "do you think you could talk to him?"
Ramble looked at her sister, "I could try," she sighed, "I haven't spoken Japanese since I was with Monkey." Ramble then leaned on one knee and began to talk to the boy.
"Monkey?" Jack whispered to Killjoy.
"She was a newsie from Japan," Killjoy quickly explained.
"Well, wheah is she?" Jack asked to the group.
"She just became too old to be a newsie," Mock sighed, "she works near the Wharf."
"Wait a minute," Blink stepped forward, "So Ramble…can speak…Japanese?" he asked amazed.
"She also knows Spanish and Chinese," Dragon smiled.
"How?" Mush raised his eyebrow, causing Dragon to shake her head.
"Well, I taught her Spanish, Porridge taught her Chinese and Monkey taught her Japanese," Dragon answered Mush's question.
"She just has a knack for languages," Marbles smiled.
"What you didn't think that Ramble got her name for being able to Ramble in English did you?" Prankster asked.
"Well…yeah," Racetrack responded.
Ramble finished talking to the boy and stood up. She turned around to face the group.
"His name's Koan, his family died on the way over here, and he doesn't speak a lick of English." Ramble finished.
"We kinda figured that one out," Prank stepped towards her sister. "How old is he?"
Ramble's face grew blank; her eyebrow raised higher then the other one.
"Ask him," Prank slapped her face with her hand, she muttered something about her being the only sane one. Ramble's confusion disappeared as she turned her head towards the small boy and asked him. The boy gave back a one-word answer and Ramble looked at Prank again.
"He's ten." Ramble smiled.
Prankster gave a concerned look at the starving boy. Her eyes flashed and lighten as she regained her leadership she knew so well.
"Sherlock?" Prankster asked her eyes never leaving Koan.
"Yeah?" Sherlock pushed through the crowd to stand next to the former leader.
"Do we still have that stash of emergency food?" she inquired.
"Sure do,"
"Go get it, this boy looks half starved," Prankster smiled. Sherlock mock saluted the younger female and rushed out of the room.
"Twitch," Prank grabbed the shoulder of the 12-year-old by the shoulder. "Go grab some blankets, the kid's shivering."
Twitch offered a smile and then turned to an empty bunk and began pulling the blankets off of it.
"Art," she called to the other older newsie, "get this kid a bunk, we got a new newsie to train." She smiled.
"Ramble," she finally called, "I need you teach as much English to…Koan in two weeks as possible, give him the basics, that way the rest can take over when we leave."
Ramble nodded her head, "You can count on me," Ramble mock saluted her sister. "Let's get you a bunk." Ramble grabbed the Japanese newsie by the shoulder and pulled him near a bottom bunk.
Sherlock returned from where ever he went with lots of food for the starving child, Twitch finished uncovering a bunk and brought the extra blankets to the shivering kid.
"Whoa dere," Specs protested, "you'se expect ta teach da kid English in two weeks?"
"Not all of it," Marbles joked.
"How?" Mush asked confused.
"Hey," Prank smiled, "we taught Porridge, we taught Dragon, we taught Monkey and Slug, if we can teach them, I know we can teach this one."
"Slug?" Spot asked disgusted.
"Really old newsie, she's from Mexico, she's about 10 years older then us," Killjoy explain.
"She's the perfect reason why you don't have the younger newsies pick your name," Sherlock glared at Prankster. Prank's smile creeped up her face.
"I was seven," she explained, "and everyone else liked it."
"What?" Jack inquired.
"Ok," Smarts spoke up, "Slug wanted a newsie name, so she told us we could pick it, so Prank and myself," Smarts pointed to Prank and herself, "we were sitting next to a slug at the time, so Prankster yells 'Slug' and it just stuck."
This made the newsies grin, as they could see Prank doing that as a child. Prank turned to see Ramble talking to her twin.
"Ramble," Prank cried, "what are you doing? You got a newsie to teach…go go." Prank ordered her sister to do. Ramble rolled her eyes but returned her attention to Koan who was very busy eating.
The San Francisco newsies smiled at Prank, the way she commanded boys older and bigger then her. For the first time in nearly five months, they had a leader they were proud of, and she was back.
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There we go! A nice long chapter for you. So now you all want to review right? :::smiles hopefully::: well I got to go, have a great day!