By Megan
The next morning Kloppman came into the room at his usual time, 5:30 and began yelling at the boys to wake up. He walked to Boots bed and yelled loudly, the boy's response was barely waking up.
Henry was next. "I didn't do it." He claimed sitting up after Kloppman had yelled his name five times.
"Whadda ya mean ya didn't do it, ya gotta get up an' sell the papes." He said slapping him across the cheek.
Then he went over to Race, Crutchy, and Kid Blinks' corner of the room. He poked at Jack until the leader pushed himself out of bed. Finally he went over to where the girl was sleeping. She was wide-awake, ready to go, and was reading the previous days paper. Like her 'babysitter' she wore a pair of thin-rimmed glasses.
"You's up early," he said.
"Spot got us out a bed at five every mornin' to get the papes 'fore everyone else." She said explaining why she was up early.
Kloppman looked at the bunk on top of hers. Specs was still asleep. "Specs," he shouted, "Specs wake up." With that encouragement and a few pokes the more experienced newsie got up complaining, "I'se up, I'se up, lemme alone."
While the boys got ready to go Hotshot just sat on her bed reading the paper and listening to the faint singing coming out of the washroom. Jack was the first one to come out. He sat on the bed across from hers. "How many papes you think you can handle your firs' day?" he asked.
She glanced up at him, "At least a hundred."
"Get fifty taday, and help Specs sell some a his. Listen the only ones who know you's from Brooklyn is me, Kid, and David. Don' go spreadin' it around 'cause a couple scabs 'ere don' like Brooklyn much."
"Ya didn't tell Specs?"
"No, he ahh…" Jack paused, "Lets jus say his experiences in Brooklyn haven't been da best."
"Alright." she said as the other boys came out of the washroom to join them.
Jack turned to the group and spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, "Alright, you's all know that its Hotshot's first day."
A couple of laughs and evil grins were his response.
"An' I also know that all a you's are gonna help her out if ya see 'er. You's all had first days sellin' 'ere too and you's should remember what it was like. In otha words if I hear 'bout any tricks that you's played on her I'll soak ya."
A few whispers of protest could be heard around the room.
Hotshot left a blank, challenging stare on her face. Jack knew pranks would be played, but wondered if she'd report them at the end of the day, or if Specs would report them for that matter. He'd have to find Kid later and tell him to help her the next day. There was no way Specs wanted her to stay with him longer than she had to.
"Let's go then," he yelled, leading them out the doors and to the distribution office. "Mornin' Weasel!"
The old man scowled at him. It was a miracle that he'd gotten his job back after the strike, yet he still seemed to hate it. "How many times do I have to tell you, the name's Wiesel, Mr. Wiesel to you."
As he spoke Jack mouthed the words and used wild hand gestures. All he received was another scowl when he was caught. He picked up the pape sitting on the counter and quickly looked through it, searching for headlines that could make a good story. He threw down a coin and declared, "A 'undred papes."
Wiesel shoved the papers at him and loudly said, "Next."
As Hotshot walked up Jack caught her eye and mouthed, "Only fifty." She frowned but put half the money she'd planned on using in her pocket. She put the other half on the counter. "Fifty papes."
Wiesel looked at her, "What have we here, a newbie? What's your name boy?"
She smiled and spoke loudly, "Hotshot, and don't bother I've already heard a lot about you Weasel, but Jack I have to disagree."
Jack looked at her, "'Bout what?"
"He looks more like a sewer rat ta me," She turned back to the raging old man, "Me papes, please."
He shoved them under the barred area and motioned for her to leave. She took a seat next to Jack and waited for the others to get their papers. "Good one," Mush whispered as he passed her.
When Specs got his paper he sat down on the other side of Jack, "Your orders." he said with no emotion in his voice.
"Keep an eye on her, give 'er some a you's papes if she sells all a hers, an' if you try to lose her I'll soak you."
"Ya know," he said, "I'se heard you threaten to soak a lot a people, but I ain't seen ya do it much."
"You's care to be one a the ones dat don't back off, an' make me." He glanced sideways at Specs, "Jus' don't ditch her alright."
"Alright, let's go then." Specs motioned for her to follow him. Jack went in the exact opposite direction with David and Les. "Anything that can be improved?" Specs looked at her as he sat on one of the benches in the square, and opened a paper.
"Let's see," Hotshot thought back to the headlines she'd read, "There's 'Three Dead Cats Found on Railroad Tracks' and 'Fire Knocks out Power to Mill.'" She looked at him as he raised an eyebrow.
"I guess dat could work. I'll take the one 'bout the corpses." He got up and began to walk down the street shouting his headline, " Extra, Extra. Three corpses found on railroad tracks. Murder victims."
At the same time Hotshot was shouting, "Mill fire. Hundreds lose power. Mass panic." Even though Specs walked quickly she was still able to match his pace.
Within two hours the two only had about a dozen papers left. They started back toward Tibby's to meet up with everyone else.
"So which a Jack's friends sent you up 'ere?"
"Does it matter?"
"Well they gots ta be important for him to threaten to soak me."
"I'll tell you later."
"Let's go this way. It's a shortcut." Specs nodded down an alley. Hotshot just shrugged and followed him. When they were close to halfway through a figure stepped out from the corner of one of the buildings. Oscar Delancy grinned from under his cap.
"Turn around, "Specs whispered urgently. Hotshot didn't know the boy in the alley but from the way Specs spoke he was obviously someone to be avoided. She turned with him in time to see Maurice emerge from the end of the alley that they had been coming from. The brothers backed them into a corner.
"Hey four-eyes," Oscar droned, "What do ya got here, a newbie." He reached for Hotshot's collar to pull her foreward.
Years of training helped her keep her balance enough to pull back out of his reach. When he brought his hand back to swing at her she ducked, and all he hit was her hat. Hitting her hat also let the two 'stupid apes' in on her secret.
Maurice gasped, "You's a goil."
Oscar was also surprised but didn't show it. Instead he turned to Specs. "Why don' you introduce us ta you's lil' goil friend scum."
Specs scowled and again let no emotion show through his voice. "Guys this is Hotshot, Hotshot dis is Maurice and Oscar Delancy." He pointed to indicate who was who.
"Now why's a pretty thing like you hanging with a bum like this?" Maurice asked, "And why on earth are you selling papers?"
"There ain't no law 'gainst goils bein' newsies," she snapped at him, "An' if I wasn't wit' him who'd I be wit', an idiot like one a you."
Oscar reached out to grab her again, and this time was prepared when she tried to move out of his way. He grabbed the collar of her shirt and pulled her foreward, dragging her a few steps away
"Let her alone," Specs snapped stepping foreward to pull her back. He was stopped however by Maurice's fist coming in contact with his stomach and then his face. He fell back against the wall groaning.
Oscar laughed at his brother's actions and turned to the smaller girl. "C'mon Hun, gimme a kiss," he said.
In reaction Hotshot spit in his face and brought her heel down hard on his toes. He stifled a cry of pain and released her to wipe his face.
Seizing the opportunity she jumped back to the wall. As the two brothers got ready to advance she pulled her slingshot out of her back pocket, set it, and released.
Maurice and Oscar had thought that she was joking when she pulled it out. Only Brooklyn newsies carried slingshots and there was no way this girl was from Brooklyn. Once her first shot hit Oscar hard in the stomach and the second nailed Maurice in the face they quickly changed their minds. "I'se got plenty a ammo in my pocket, and I can fight betta 'den most a me friends back home so don' push it." Oscar and Maurice turned and fled the alley threatening, "We'll get you sooner or later."
As Hotshot turned to see if Specs was ok she found him staring at her wide-eyed. "You's from Brooklyn." It was hard to tell if he looked scared or amazed.
Hotshot sighed, "Yeah, I am." She reached out a hand to help him up, "C'mon we gots ta meet the guys at Tibby's."
Without accepting her help he pushed himself up from the ground. "I can't believe him."
"Can't believe Jack put you wit' someone from Brooklyn?" she asked. "He told me you don't like us. The least you can do is tell me why."
"Tonight, back at the lodging house." He said, ending the discussion.
Jack turned in his chair to greet them when they got to Tibby's. When he saw Specs his jaw dropped, "What happened ta you?" he asked getting up. He yelled for Race to get a piece of ice to put on Specs' swelling eye.
"We had a little run in wit' the Delancy bruthas." Specs explained as Jack pulled him and Hotshot over in the corner. "They know that Hotshot's a goil; her hat fell off. Anyway Oscar grabbed her and Maurice hit me a few times."
Jack glanced over at Hotshot and accepted the ice wrapped in a cloth from Racetrack, "Then how come Hotshot here ain't hurt none?"
"Well she pulled out her slingshot and taught 'em a lesson." He scowled at Jack for a second, "An' I figured out she's from Brooklyn."
Jack matched his scowl and answered seriously, "The only reason she's stayin' here is cuz da bulls are down in Brooklyn lookin' ta put her back wit' her uncle. An' I can tell you right now she's from Spot's group, not the rebels you met and Spot's newsies ain't like that. You gonna live?"
Specs' scowl had vanished, "I'll be fine."
"Good then lets get you two sumthin' ta eat."
After lunch the two sold the rest of their papers quickly and went back to the boarding house. Specs' black eye had helped them sell the last few papers. Hotshot sat down on her bunk and figured he'd tell her when he was ready.
Sure enough he sat down a few minutes later, "Don' you ever tell anybody."
She nodded and he continued.
**Flashback**
Two young newsies were walking across the Brooklyn Bridge to visit some friends they had and ask for a favor. They both seemed to be around twelve-years-old.
The shorter of the two was Jack Kelly. He was reasonably tall, thin, had light brown hair and eyes. It had been his idea to visit his friend Spot Conlan, the newsie who was sure to take over when the current leader of the Brooklyn newsies retired. Jack was strong and fearless. Used to fights and having spent time in the refuge he was ready for anything.
The boy walking next to him was slightly taller. Like Jack he was thin, with brown hair and eyes. His hair was somewhat darker, covered by a hat, and wavy at the ends. The major difference was the glasses that rested on his nose. They were the origin of his nickname, Specs. He had only been a newsie for a few months, but already aware of the different territories. Jack had taken an instant liking to the older boy when he had come to the lodging house looking for a job. Specs' parents had died and instead of going to an orphanage he had run to the lodging house, hoping to become a newsie. At least that was the story he told. Jack had pulled him into the slowly growing group of Manhattan newsies that would one day lead the strike against Pulitzer.
When they got to Brooklyn Jack pulled his friend through the crowded streets searching for a newsie that he knew. Within ten minutes he spotted his friends Wiser and Scruff on a street corner. "Either a you's seen Spot?" he asked stopping in front of them.
They smiled at him, both recognizing the Manhattan leader who was in the same position as Spot. "He went back ta the pier," Scruff said.
At the same time Wiser spoke, "He's buyin' some marbles down at the store."
Jack looked at them confused for a minute. Either of them could be right so he had an idea. "Wiser take Specs 'ere and go see if Spot's at the store. Me an' Scruff'll check the pier. If he's not there come back, an' if he is come back wit' 'im."
The other boys nodded in understanding and took off in different directions. Specs followed closely behind the older boy trying to keep from getting lost. Wiser stopped at a small store and peeked in the window. "Guess Spot's been here already," he said, "Lets go back ta the dock." With that he turned and trotted off back toward the pier.
Specs, not used to the fast pace, tried desperately to keep up but got lost in the crowd. He moved to the sidewalk hoping to see a familiar face but was not as lucky as he hoped. He began to feel trapped and lost and leaned against a wall for support. His spirits were lifted a little when a group of older newsies circled around him. "Can you's tell me where ta find Spot Conlan?" he asked.
"Why?" their leader asked, "You lookin' to join?"
"No."
"Where you from?"
"Manhattan."
The older boy growled, "What do you's think you's doin' on our turf?"
Before Specs could answer a heavy blow was delivered to his stomach. Over and over they hit him. Even after the pain had caused him to pass out they continued to beat him. When they finally left it wasn't until two hours later that Jack, Spot, and some of Spot's friends found him. One of the older Brooklyn newsies had to carry him back to Manhattan, and he'd been stuck at the boarding house for more than three weeks before Kloppman allowed him to sell again.
When he'd finally gotten over his fear and gone back to Brooklyn a similar incident happened. He'd also seen other friends beat up by Brooklyn newsies. Never one of Spot's newsies, but always one of the rebels. Finally he had gotten scared enough to refuse to go to Brooklyn for any reason. Over the past five years at least he'd learned the streets of New York and knew them like the back of his hand. He knew where everything was in Brooklyn too, but always refused to go.
**End Flashback**
"Not all of us are like that Specs," Hotshot said from her bunk.
"I know, I jus' don' wanna go back there an' run into the ones who are again."
"That's the same reason some Brooklyn newsies won't come up here ya know," she said, "There's newsies in Brooklyn that don't like to come up here 'cause they heard they'd get beat up. Not many, but a few. Were you scared a me out there?"
"No, you's a goil. Plus I ain't scared of 'em when I'se on our turf. Can you really beat most of the Brooklyn newsies in a fight."
"Bein' a goil don' got nothin' ta do wit' it. I coulda fought if I had to," she said, "An' please, have you's seen the size a some a da Brooklyn newsies. The few fights I's been in wit' dem I fought hard as I could and still lost."
"So why would Spot let you stay?" The look on his face was amused.
"I could sell papes well an' could keep meself out a trouble. I can fight one newsie jus' not a whole bunch. I fought Spot before."
Specs looked at the girl in front of him, "You fought Spot Conlan.
"Yes I'se did," she said matter of factly, "He said I couldn't do somethin' 'cause I was a goil an' he wouldn't take it back so I punched 'im. He came up 'ere after it to visit Jack, you'se woulda been about 13 of 14."
Specs laughed out loud at that, "You's the one who gave Spot that black eye. He tol' us it was some bull on the bridge."
"Well it was me an' he ain't excluded me from nuthin' 'cause I was a goil since."
A few minutes later the other newsies started arriving back at the lodging house. Race came in with Mush and Kid Blink raving about losing some hot tip and how stupid the horse was. From the looks the other two were giving him this seemed to be a daily occurrence. Jack strolled in with David and Les after everyone else had arrived.
"So any tricks? He asked her
"None," she lied. Snipeshooter, Henry and Crutchy had hidden her glasses and other personal items all over the washroom. Dutchy and Snitch had stolen ten of her papes at the distribution station while she was sitting with Jack. Someone had left a bucket of water to soak her when she came into the lodging house. Unfortunately they hadn't positioned it right so she didn't get wet.
She got stares from everyone in the room when she answered. The guys were amazed that this girl hadn't told Jack about their pranks. Jack was surprised too, but also proud. She knew one of the most important newsie rules; never rat on another newsie. This of course didn't count for scabbers. "You sure?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Specs?"
"No one did anythin'," If she wasn't going to tell neither was he.
"Alright, I'll be back in a few," With that Jack strolled out of the room.
The other newsies surrounded her. "Why didn't ya tell?" Crutchy asked.
"Do you know nothin' 'bout the rules a the newsies; ya don' tell on any otha newsies 'cept if they's a scab." She looked at them, "Besides I likes it here."
"Hey Specs," They all jumped at the sound of Jack's voice. "I'se need you's help writin' a letter to Spot, c'mon." Specs got up and followed Jack out of the room.
That night Jack woke Hotshot and brought her out on the fire escape. "Now we's out here an' I ain't gonna soak no one did you's get played tricks on?"
"Yeah, plenty."
"An' you's didn't tell me 'cause a the rule?"
"Yes."
Jack smiled, "So how was you's first day?"
"Good," she smiled, "It was fun seein' those Delancy's run."
"Did you really have more ammo?"
"Back in the room, I'se jus' glad they bought my lies."
Jack looked her in the face, "Specs said you's could keep sellin' wit' him."
"Great," she replied.
"Did you date Spot?"
"Sort of, we hung out together a lot but it was neva official."
"What 'bout Specs? Think you'll date 'im."
"I barely know the guy. Sure he ain't bad in the looks department but I knew Spot at least five years 'fore I started 'dating him'."
Jack shrugged and said one last comment, "Well things are different in Manhattan." With that he left her confused and alone outside.
She sat for a few minutes thinking about what he'd said. "If anyone it'll be Kid Blink I date," she said to herself before going inside.
Hey everybody, this is my first newsie fic. I hope you like it. If you do keep reading and' if ya don't then don't, or keep reading anyway. I can promise a few twists and turns in this story and I'll probably think of a few others. Most of 'em won't have a girl newsie in them and they'll just be about the guys in the movie. Well, read, review, e-mail. I'll talk to you later. Bye I'll add more soon I promise.