DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANY NEWSIES. WISHES DON'T ALWAYS COME TRUE.
Jack had an itch. Not a little one, one that you could scratch yourself and be done with. No, this one was a humdinger, smack in the middle of his back and itching like a mother. All the guys were out selling, and Jack, alone with his itch, was trying every conceivable method of back scratching available.
First, he tried the walls. But the wood was smooth with age (and dust). Then he tried the corners of the doorframe, but abandoned that idea when he saw the amount of splinters in his shirt. Unbuttoning the worn gray flannel, he sat down on Race's bunk - Jack slept on a top one - and proceeded to pick the shards of wood out one by one.
Could this day get any worse? Jack moaned inside his head. No, that didn't seem possible. First, that confounded itch! He reached behind him to try to scratch it, but even Jack's long arms couldn't reach the middle of his back. Boy, it would be nice if Sarah were here to scratch it....
Then a frown creased Jack's tanned face. What the heck was with David and Sarah? Jack had mulled over the problem of asking David for permission constantly for the last three weeks. He never seemed to arrive at a solution. Since when did Davey have the right to demand something like that? What was he, Sarah's keeper?
No, it wasn't really that, as much as Jack tried to pretend it was.
"It's me pride....it's me damn pride dat's doin this...Jack, ya should just ax...it wont kill ya...." Jack whispered to the empty room. "Jist ax Davey, an then you'se gonna be able to prapose...finally...." He trailed off when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Who was done selling at this hour? It was only the middle of the afternoon.
Jack sighed. He was looking forward to napping the whole day, after his boss Mr. Edwards had gotten the flu and given all his workers the day off. Tossing his still-splinter-filled shirt on the bed, he stood up to see who was coming up the stairs.
David barreled into the bunkroom at top speed, gasping. It was now almost 5 o'clock - he must have beaten the ½ mile run, when he sprinted all the way to the Lodging House - and he had only an hour and a half to correct this whole mess before Sarah came after him with Papa's chain saw. Not looking where he was going, David ran right into Jack's chest, knocking them both to the floor.
"Oof! Whatcha doin, Davey? Runnin the marathon or something?" Jack pushed his friend off him and sat up. 'Wheah's the fiah?"
"Sorry....Jack....I...didn't ....see you....there." David was still out of breath and getting the wind knocked outta him didn't help. "Help....me up."
Jack obligingly gave David a hand, and now both were sitting on the floor of the bunkroom, leaning against some beds. Jack impatiently waited for David to speak.
"Ok, listen Jack." David began. "Don't interrupt me till I'm finished cause I got a lot to say and I don't want you to mess me up. Ok, remember when I told you about three weeks ago that day on the docks that I wanted you to ask me before you asked Sarah and then I passed out and then you must think that I was serious because Sarah overheard you talking to Blink and Crutchy and now she's really mad at me and she tried to kill me back at the apartment!" David said this all in one breath, really fast, and Jack was looking at him like he was a freak.
"Davey, I didn undastand a wiod ya jist said. Say it a bit slowa, ok? Now, start again."
"Jack...that stuff I told you about you having to ask me before you ask Sarah? Just forget about it. I was drunk. I never thought you would take me seriously and Sarah overheard you talking...."
''Sarah ovaheard me? When?" Jack asked, astonished.
" I think it was today sometime, after work. She came back to the apartment mad as a wet hen and started throwing stuff at me....anyway, just forget about it. It was stupid. I know you want to propose to her, so just do it already!"
"Ya mean it, Davey? Crips, I was niovus dere foa a minit. I thought you'se was fa real and I couldn't bring meself ta do anything.....anyway, dis is great. Now I'se jist got to.....whats that word, Davey? You know, ta get it all tagetha?"
"Organize?" David guessed, amused.
"Yeah, dat's it. Orginize. So, I think it should take me....mebbe a week? 10 days? Let's see, I'll need ta polish da ring....get some flowas....."
"No, no no! Jack, listen, its gotta be today!" David said with alarm. "Sarah doesn't know I was drunk then, and I can't tell her. So you gotta propose today, so she doesn't think that you waited all this time to propose just because of me...."
"Davey, ya must be dreamin. I can't propose today....I'se, well....I'se too scared, Davey." Jack looked down, ashamed. Twisting his hands, he continued. "I'se sacred. What if she tions me down? I'll neva get ova it."
David resisted the urge to burst out laughing. Who was Jack kidding? Sarah, refuse? David saw the way his sister smelled the sweater Jack had accidentally left at their apartment every night before she went to sleep. G-d know why she would want to - newsies hardly even got a chance to wash their clothes, because they usually only had one pair. Jack was no exception. But they always said love was blind. Maybe it didn't have a sense of smell, either.....
"Listen, Jack, she isn't gonna refuse. She loves you, and you know it. You guys are meant to be together. And just think, the sooner you guys get married, the sooner we'll be related! So get out there and kick some ass." David punched Jack in the arm in a friendly way.
Turning serious, David said softly, leaning in close, "Jack, forget about me for a moment. If you don't propose soon, she's gonna get worried. And then she's gonna get hurt. And that's the last thing both of us wanna do." David smiled. "Even if she did try to murder her boyfriends best friend."
Jack looked up from the frayed string he had been playing with in his lap. Thoughtfully, he looked into David's blue eyes and freckled face, so different from Sarah's, but with the same lovable ness and kindness sketched in. They were the only family he had, Jack realized. Why wait to make it legal?
"Lets go!" Jack yelled, a smile lighting up his handsome face. Jumping up, he grabbed an elated (and relived) David off the floor. Thumping down the stairs and out of the Lodging House, the two friends ran to the Jacob's apartment.
Arriving at the fire escape's bottom stair, Jack took a deep breath, straightened his bandanna, and turned to David.
"Davey, I jist wanna say you'se the best friend I eva had. And even though ya stupid sometimes, I tink this is the right think ta do." Jack grinned up at the window four floors up, and patted the box in his pocked he had remembered to grab before him and David ran out of the bunkroom.
Then an expression of frustration darkened Jack's face and he turned to David. Nervously, David wondered what was wrong.....
"Before we go up, Davey, can ya jist scratch my back? Yeah, right thea.....ya, dat's it......"
Jack had an itch. Not a little one, one that you could scratch yourself and be done with. No, this one was a humdinger, smack in the middle of his back and itching like a mother. All the guys were out selling, and Jack, alone with his itch, was trying every conceivable method of back scratching available.
First, he tried the walls. But the wood was smooth with age (and dust). Then he tried the corners of the doorframe, but abandoned that idea when he saw the amount of splinters in his shirt. Unbuttoning the worn gray flannel, he sat down on Race's bunk - Jack slept on a top one - and proceeded to pick the shards of wood out one by one.
Could this day get any worse? Jack moaned inside his head. No, that didn't seem possible. First, that confounded itch! He reached behind him to try to scratch it, but even Jack's long arms couldn't reach the middle of his back. Boy, it would be nice if Sarah were here to scratch it....
Then a frown creased Jack's tanned face. What the heck was with David and Sarah? Jack had mulled over the problem of asking David for permission constantly for the last three weeks. He never seemed to arrive at a solution. Since when did Davey have the right to demand something like that? What was he, Sarah's keeper?
No, it wasn't really that, as much as Jack tried to pretend it was.
"It's me pride....it's me damn pride dat's doin this...Jack, ya should just ax...it wont kill ya...." Jack whispered to the empty room. "Jist ax Davey, an then you'se gonna be able to prapose...finally...." He trailed off when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Who was done selling at this hour? It was only the middle of the afternoon.
Jack sighed. He was looking forward to napping the whole day, after his boss Mr. Edwards had gotten the flu and given all his workers the day off. Tossing his still-splinter-filled shirt on the bed, he stood up to see who was coming up the stairs.
David barreled into the bunkroom at top speed, gasping. It was now almost 5 o'clock - he must have beaten the ½ mile run, when he sprinted all the way to the Lodging House - and he had only an hour and a half to correct this whole mess before Sarah came after him with Papa's chain saw. Not looking where he was going, David ran right into Jack's chest, knocking them both to the floor.
"Oof! Whatcha doin, Davey? Runnin the marathon or something?" Jack pushed his friend off him and sat up. 'Wheah's the fiah?"
"Sorry....Jack....I...didn't ....see you....there." David was still out of breath and getting the wind knocked outta him didn't help. "Help....me up."
Jack obligingly gave David a hand, and now both were sitting on the floor of the bunkroom, leaning against some beds. Jack impatiently waited for David to speak.
"Ok, listen Jack." David began. "Don't interrupt me till I'm finished cause I got a lot to say and I don't want you to mess me up. Ok, remember when I told you about three weeks ago that day on the docks that I wanted you to ask me before you asked Sarah and then I passed out and then you must think that I was serious because Sarah overheard you talking to Blink and Crutchy and now she's really mad at me and she tried to kill me back at the apartment!" David said this all in one breath, really fast, and Jack was looking at him like he was a freak.
"Davey, I didn undastand a wiod ya jist said. Say it a bit slowa, ok? Now, start again."
"Jack...that stuff I told you about you having to ask me before you ask Sarah? Just forget about it. I was drunk. I never thought you would take me seriously and Sarah overheard you talking...."
''Sarah ovaheard me? When?" Jack asked, astonished.
" I think it was today sometime, after work. She came back to the apartment mad as a wet hen and started throwing stuff at me....anyway, just forget about it. It was stupid. I know you want to propose to her, so just do it already!"
"Ya mean it, Davey? Crips, I was niovus dere foa a minit. I thought you'se was fa real and I couldn't bring meself ta do anything.....anyway, dis is great. Now I'se jist got to.....whats that word, Davey? You know, ta get it all tagetha?"
"Organize?" David guessed, amused.
"Yeah, dat's it. Orginize. So, I think it should take me....mebbe a week? 10 days? Let's see, I'll need ta polish da ring....get some flowas....."
"No, no no! Jack, listen, its gotta be today!" David said with alarm. "Sarah doesn't know I was drunk then, and I can't tell her. So you gotta propose today, so she doesn't think that you waited all this time to propose just because of me...."
"Davey, ya must be dreamin. I can't propose today....I'se, well....I'se too scared, Davey." Jack looked down, ashamed. Twisting his hands, he continued. "I'se sacred. What if she tions me down? I'll neva get ova it."
David resisted the urge to burst out laughing. Who was Jack kidding? Sarah, refuse? David saw the way his sister smelled the sweater Jack had accidentally left at their apartment every night before she went to sleep. G-d know why she would want to - newsies hardly even got a chance to wash their clothes, because they usually only had one pair. Jack was no exception. But they always said love was blind. Maybe it didn't have a sense of smell, either.....
"Listen, Jack, she isn't gonna refuse. She loves you, and you know it. You guys are meant to be together. And just think, the sooner you guys get married, the sooner we'll be related! So get out there and kick some ass." David punched Jack in the arm in a friendly way.
Turning serious, David said softly, leaning in close, "Jack, forget about me for a moment. If you don't propose soon, she's gonna get worried. And then she's gonna get hurt. And that's the last thing both of us wanna do." David smiled. "Even if she did try to murder her boyfriends best friend."
Jack looked up from the frayed string he had been playing with in his lap. Thoughtfully, he looked into David's blue eyes and freckled face, so different from Sarah's, but with the same lovable ness and kindness sketched in. They were the only family he had, Jack realized. Why wait to make it legal?
"Lets go!" Jack yelled, a smile lighting up his handsome face. Jumping up, he grabbed an elated (and relived) David off the floor. Thumping down the stairs and out of the Lodging House, the two friends ran to the Jacob's apartment.
Arriving at the fire escape's bottom stair, Jack took a deep breath, straightened his bandanna, and turned to David.
"Davey, I jist wanna say you'se the best friend I eva had. And even though ya stupid sometimes, I tink this is the right think ta do." Jack grinned up at the window four floors up, and patted the box in his pocked he had remembered to grab before him and David ran out of the bunkroom.
Then an expression of frustration darkened Jack's face and he turned to David. Nervously, David wondered what was wrong.....
"Before we go up, Davey, can ya jist scratch my back? Yeah, right thea.....ya, dat's it......"