Past Secrets and Present Times
Chapter 6
By Megan
The young woman sat upon the large boat sailing for America. Her controlling parents and society were what caused her to run away. They were to reach New York harbor any day and she would be glad to get off of the boat. She was the only unmarried woman who was old enough for young men to find attractive. Many American sailors seemed to like her slim figure, tan skin, and chocolate brown hair. Her Spanish accent added to their intrigue. She smiled happily for the first time in days seeing the statue of liberty in the distance.
After getting past the immigration officials she walked the streets looking for somewhere to stay. Many of the boarding houses were full and there weren't many job offers. When, at dusk, she still hadn't found a job she stretched out to sleep on a bench.
"Extry! Extry!" a mans cries woke her the next morning. She pushed herself up and looked around. About a dozen young men were running around the streets begging people to buy papers. "Good Morning, Miss," One of them stood in front of her, "Would you like to buy a paper." She looked up to see that he was older than many of the others and probably around her age. His light brown hair glistened in the sun and his blue eyes sparkled.
She smiled; this man was more attractive than her fiancé. She cleared her throat, "How much are they?"
"A penny a pape." His smile matched hers.
The woman then remembered the limited supply of money she had, "I don't think I can afford it."
"Are you looking for a job?"
She looked at him, "At the moment yes, I'm new in New York."
"You ever done sewing before?" he asked, "My mother happens to be looking for some help in her shop."
"I love sewing. Do you think she'd hire someone so young?"
He laughed, "You'd be one of the oldest there. I'll walk there with you if you like."
The two of them began to walk down the street. "Do you have a name?" she asked.
"Brains," he said as he sold a few papers to some gentlemen.
"Surely that's not the name your mother gave you," she laughed.
"No," he agreed, "She named me Christian. She usually calls me Chris. My newsie name is Brains because I have an education." He sold his last paper to an elderly woman as they neared the small shop. "So what about you, what's your name?"
"Maria," she said, "I just got here from Spain yesterday."
"And how old are you?"
She looked at him oddly as he reached for the door, "Eighteen, and you?"
"Nineteen," he looked at a woman in her mid thirties, "Mother, this is Maria, she just got here from Spain. She needs a job and somewhere to stay."
"It's nice to meet you. Why don't you come in back and show me what you can do?" Maria followed Christian's mother into the back room smiling at him over her shoulder. By that night she had a job at Mrs. Lynn's small dress shop and a room in their mansion. Mr. Lynn ran a large company that had four stores in New York alone. Mrs. Lynn just had a dress shop for fun.
Over the next few months Maria adjusted to her life in America. Christian's family was very kind to her and she fit in very well at the shop. To add to everything she got to see Christian every day. He usually stopped by the store after all of his papers were sold.
Eventually a romance grew between them. Even after Maria told him why she had run from her family he still loved her. A little more than a year after she had arrived in the states they were married. Within a year Maria had a son, whom they named Andres after Maria's brother, and three years later a daughter named Brooke, named after the city her family lived in. By this time Christian's father had retired and he had taken over the company. They had homes in both Brooklyn and Manhattan.
Two years after Brooke's birth Christian's father died of a heart attack, and his mother of a stroke two months later. When Andres was eight and Brooke was five her parents had their final children, twins. A boy named Aaron and a girl named Selina. All of the children would sit around every night listening to his stories of when Christian was a Brooklyn newsie. "Don't you go putting ideas in these children's heads." His wife often warned him, "I don't want any of them to run off and become newsies."
The family was shaken again a few years later when Christian was charged with murder. The authorities believed that he had killed another man because someone had seen the man leave their house hours before he was killed. Brooke had been the only one home when the man was there and since she was only six-and-a-half she did not understand most of what was asked in court. Her father was sentenced to life in prison and dragged off to the state penitentiary.
Maria overcome with grief turned to one of her husbands' business associates. He seemed to be the only one who could help her and eventually they were married.
* * *
Brooke hated her life after her father left. Though the man her mother dated treated them all warmly he couldn't replace her father. Andres felt the same way and often threatened to become a newsie. Aaron and Selina were too young to remember much of their father so they treated him like he was their father. When their mother married Jonathan the twins accepted him right away. After they had been married about a month his actions toward the rest of the family started to change. He would hit their mother if dinner were not ready when he got home and for other stupid reason. He never did this when the younger children were around. Immediately after he would apologize and she would accept his apology.
Andres and Brooke got the worst of his temper. Andres was going through a rebellious stage and Brooke just highly disliked him, especially after they figured out what happened to their mother. Andres often ran away and began to spend time with a group of Brooklyn newsies. The bulls would bring him home after a day or two. He would only get a stern talking to when their mother was in the room. After she left Jonathan would whip Andres with a pieces of rope. He punished Brooke when she said something disrespectful by sending her to her room. One night when she spoke out at one of his dinner parties he grounded her for a week.
Andres sat on her windowsill two nights later. He was visiting from his current 'escape' to the newsies headquarters. "What'd you do this time?" he asked
"Me," she looked at him pretending to be insulted. "I mumbled something about him at dinner. No one heard except him. Then I accidentally knocked over his glass and spilled water on him. Now I'm grounded for a week. What's his problem?"
"He's a tight wad, that's what his problem is," Andres hissed a few choice adjectives about their stepfather. "So you wanna get out of here for a few days?"
She looked up, "You mean go be a newsie with you?" Out of her and her brother she had wanted to be a newsie more when her father told them his many stories. "Of course, but won't they mind that I'm a girl?"
"Not if Spot says you's ok. He may be a new leada in training but no one messes wit' 'im." Andre said, "Change and pack light. I'll be back in an hour. Be sure to leave mom a note in Spanish, and use your accent." With that he was gone and she was left alone to pack.
She changed into some of Andres' old clothes and packed an extra set. She had just finished writing a note and was adjusting his old newsie hat to cover her hair when he got back.
"I barely recognized you." He said. After that he was silent and helped her climb out the window and down the tree. She ran as fast as possible to keep up with him in the streets. He ran far away from all of the mansions and shops and down to the harbor. There he was greeted by another newsie and explained the situation. "Is Spot still up?"
"Yeah, but he ain't gonna be to glad you missed curfew." The older newsie claimed.
"Where is he, it's important?"
"The loft."
"C'mon," Andres grabbed her roughly by the collar and pulled her along behind him. He climbed up a ladder inside the one of the buildings. Brooke barely stopped to look at the groups of boys playing poker and other games in small groups. At the top he gave her an order. "Stay in the shadows 'til I tell you to come out." With that he stood and walked over to where another boy was sitting atop a crate. "Hey Spot."
"You's missed curfew BlackJack," he said.
"I had important business," he said, "I'se gots a new newsie for you." He turned and motioned for her to come over. She walked out of the shadows and over to her brother. He took the hat off of her head, revealing that she was a girl. Spot raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
'He can't be much older than me' Brooke thought to herself.
"Who is she?" Spot asked. His eyes like two pieces of ice cutting onto her.
"This is my sister. I had to get her out of the house."
"What exactly does your old man do to you?" Spot turned to Andres who responded with silence. He turned back to Brooke, "What's your name kid?"
"Brooke Lynn." She said.
"No kid, I'se Brooklyn."
"Spot, her name is Brooke. Our fathers last name was Lynn."
"She don't got a newsie name." He seemed surprised.
"I been tryin to think a one but nuthin' fits. I call her En Brooklyn, but that ain't a good newsie name."
"What's it mean?"
"In Brooklyn." Andres looked around absently, "Maybe you could think a one tomorrow."
"Can she shoot?" Before Andres or Black Jack as he was known here could answer Spot pulled out a slingshot. "Can you shoot this?"
"Yes," she matched his tone. Her brother tapped her shoulder warning her not to get smart with him.
Spot placed the slingshot in her palm and placed three bottles on the rafters, "Show me." He showed her where to back up to and gave her three marbles. She took aim and hit each one perfectly, thankful for the practice with her brother's.
"What about cards?"
"She's the only one who can beat me at Blackjack occasionally and she beats me at poker all the time."
"Alright, she can stay. We'll think of a name tomorrow." He looked her in the eye and she met his gaze to which most others would look away from. "Welcome to the newsies Brooke." He spit in his palm and held out his hand.
Brooke knew most girls her age were disgusted when boys did that but it didn't bother her at all. She spit in her hand and shook his. Andres got her settled in one of the extra bunks and they both fell asleep.
The next morning Spot wake her up at five am. Most of the other boys were getting up by themselves. When she was ready he led her outside to a group of older boys. BlackJack followed closely behind them.
"Rebel," he addressed the head newsie, "This is Black Jack's sister Brooke. She's joinin' the newsies."
Rebel looked at the younger newsie. Spot was younger than him but he would be taking over soon. He may have looked young and scrawny but he was a hard fighter. "Can she shoot?"
Spot answered by explaining the previous night events and adding the answers of other questions he knew his friend would ask, "She can shoot, and beat Black Jack at his game and poker, an' I dunno if she can fight.
"Bet she can't fight. She's a goil," an older newsie said, "Beat it shrimp." He reached forward to push her back but she was quicker and gave him a black eye.
"Back off Hotshot," Spot said, "Stop showin' off."
"Let her alone Mitchell," Rebel warned her attacker. "She's got a name so I guess she's a newsie now." He said.
"She's got a name?" Spot was confused.
"You named her yourself, Hotshot," Rebel said nodding, "I think it'll fit."
With that Spot, Black Jack, Hotshot and a few other newsies walked off the pier to start a day of selling papers. Hotshot glanced over her shoulder to see Mitchell glaring after her. The boy looked around Spot's age but seemed meaner. Through the newsies she learned tricks for selling papers and was a natural at it. They would get their papers everyday and sell most of them by early afternoon. When they were done the group would go to the local restaurant, Calvin's.
One day when they were sitting at a booth near the door a group of cops came in. Spot pushed Hotshot and Black Jack toward the door, but it was too late. The bulls had seen them. They ran down the street but were caught when two bulls tackled Andres and one grabbed Brooke's arm.
After their mother saw they were home safely Jonathan brought them to his office. Brooke stood outside while he lectured and hit her older brother. She was called in after Andres ran up to his room. Jonathan gave her his lecture on how what she had done was wrong and that she would never do it again. The entire time he spoke she gave him the blank stare Spot had taught her on her second night. When Jonathan finally looked at her he slapped her across the face. Her cheek felt as though it was on fire but she would not allow herself to cry out.
Over the next three years Andres and Brooke continued to run away. They could handle being punished when they deserved it but their stepfather punished them just to keep people from seeing them, and other unfair reasons. Whenever they ran away they'd spend their time in the Brooklyn newsies boarding house. Andres would often leave and tell his sister to meet him at the pier in a few days. Sometimes she would leave before him. Thankfully the two had a friend like Spot who always had an open bunk for them. The tricks each of them picked up were very useful when selling, as well as at home. There were some rules that had to be followed while with the newsies. While Andres could walk around by himself all day Brooke had to stay with someone at all times. This was to keep the bulls from catching her, as Rebel said, but was also because she was a girl. The bulls, however, never failed to catch them after a few days. The longest they ever stayed away was two weeks.
Their punishments at home also worsened. Andres was still whipped and Jonathan would scream at him. Brooke's punishment elevated from being slapped to being kicked, beaten, and eventually Jonathan began to use the whip on her. She still gave her glare and took her punishment silently which seemed to unnerve him. The few times the two told their mother what was happening she didn't believe them. Even the marks across their backs from his whip were not proof enough.
One night on the way back from a show the carriage the family was riding in tipped over when the horses spooked. All six of the passengers flew off in different directions. Brooke's head came in contact with the hard cobble stone street. Everything went black.
Days later the twelve-year-old girl woke up in the hospital. Jonathan's brother, the owner of one of New York's best newspapers, was sitting next to her bed. (It's one of the guys in the movie but I'm not gonna tell you which. Does anyone think Hearst looks like that Grissom guy from CSI???) He informed her that her mother and the six-year-old twins had been killed in the accident. Fifteen-year-old Andres and Jonathan were in critical condition. When she was brought back to his mansion to recover he kept her in her room for close to a week. When she was allowed out again no one would tell her anything about Andres and Jonathan so she assumed they were dead.
In her uncle's mansion things were as bad as before. Though he did not punish her she was not allowed outside without a maid or servant. She was also not allowed to talk to anyone on the street. The only good thing about the house was how kind the servants were. Since she was kind to them they were much more willing to listen. Brooke's maid, Rosa, was a Hispanic woman in her mid-twenties. She was surprised and happy to learn that Brooke spoke Spanish fluently. Brooke's uncle, however, did not allow her to speak Spanish to anyone other than servants. If she did she was grounded for a week. When Brooke finally needed to get away from her uncle's control she begged Rosa to take her to the store. Using her money (she inherited her parents fortune and her uncle took control of Jonathan's company) she bought two worn pairs of pants, a few shirts, kerchiefs, a hat, boots, and other articles of clothing.
During her uncles next card game the owners of The Sun, The World, The Times, The Gazette, etc (the ones from the movie) were all there. She politely asked to join their card game to which her uncle refused. When she mumbled something in Spanish he had one of the servants bring her to her room. That evening she wrote Rosa a note in Spanish explaining her actions. She packed all that she would need to bring with her after changing her clothes. Like Andres had taught her she climbed out a window and to the ground using a tree.
She ran the entire way to the pier where a few boys playing poker and talking were the only ones still outside. Most of them looked up as she passed. She walked into the lodging building on the end of the pier, and climbed the ladder to the loft. When she emerged from the shadows Spot dropped the cards he was holding, revealing what would have been the winning hand to the round of poker he was playing with Rebel, Lockpick, Swinger, and Roman.
"Hotshot," he said, "It's about time you two got back here. We ain't heard from either of you in almos' six months. We checked you's house a few times but nobody was there. Where's your brutha?" He looked past her trying to see Black Jack in the shadows.
Hotshot shook her head indicating that he wasn't there. She held a hand to her face trying to wipe the tears off.
Spot looked at Rebel for permission to leave. Rebel nodded and Spot jumped up. He walked over to Hotshot and led her downstairs. "What happened?" he asked sitting her on his bunk.
"Jonathan, our stepfather, took us all to a show for Mama's birthday. On the way back the carriage crashed when the horses spooked. I've been stayin' wit' my uncle. Mama, Selina, Aaron, Jonathan, they're all dead."
"Black Jack?"
She nodded pressing her hands to her face. "Spot we really needs ta talk. Remember when you wanted to know why I was comin' wit' my brutha?"
Spot nodded, "We all know sumthin' was goin' on but he neva told us what."
Hotshot launched into the stories about Jonathan beating their mother, his punishments for them and more. When she was done Spot urged her to go to bed before running upstairs to tell Rebel.
The next morning Spot dragged her out to Rebel's post after she'd woken up. "Does your uncle hit you too?" Rebel was to the point when he spoke.
"No," she said, "He knows I can press charges against him."
"Good, just remember that you're welcome here all the time."
Spot and Hotshot walked to the distribution office and bought their papers. They were some of the first newsies there so they sold them fairly quickly. Spot dragged her to a store to buy some marbles and a slingshot for Hotshot. On the way there they passed Scruff and Wiser who were selling papers on a street corner. After they'd bought everything the walked back to the pier. An hour later Hotshot was playing a game of poker with a few other newsies when Scruff showed up with another newsie. The newsie with him was taller and unfamiliar to Hotshot but Spot seemed to know him. She stayed back, not really concerned about getting to meet him. If Spot thought it was important he'd introduce them. Wiser came trotting onto the pier almost half an hour later. The unfamiliar newsie started yelling at him about losing Specs. Hotshot watched them confused. Who's spectacles did Wiser lose. He was wearing his around his neck. Spot looked at her, Roman, and Swinger and ran over after speaking to Rebel.
"We's got a bit of a situation. We'll be back in a few hours at the most. Stay here." He said before turning and running off.
"Alright gentlemen," Hotshot said not really caring, "How much money you got wit' you?"
A large group of the newsies that left with Spot, Rebel, and the other newsie came back about an hour later. Spot and Rebel got back after curfew. Normally Hotshot would have given him crap about being late like he did to the others when they were, but he looked tired and upset so she just walked with him. "What happened?"
"That newsie that came wit' Scruff," Spot said taking out a cigarette and lighting it, "He's my friend Jack from Manhattan. He had a new newsie with him named Specs. Jack and Scruff came here to find me while Wiser and Specs checked the store. Specs got lost on the way back and Mitchell's group found him."
"Mitchell's group?"
"You remember Mitchell. He and some of the other newsies were mad 'bout me bein' leader after Rebel leaves next year so they left and started their own group. Anyway they found Specs and beat him up real bad. Scorpion had to carry him back to Manhattan."
"Poor guy."
"Yeah," he threw the cigarette into the water and nodded, "Let's go to bed."
A few days later Brooke was caught and dragged home. Her uncle was furious just as Jonathan had always been. He didn't beat her but looked like he wanted to. She was, of course, grounded and only talked to Rosa for a week.
Over the next year she continued running away from home to stay with Spot and the newsies. Sometimes the bulls brought her back, but there were also times when she came back on her own. One day when she was thirteen her uncle called her to his office.
"Michel Taylor's son Benjamin quite fancies you." He said.
"Well I can't say I feel the same." She scoffed. Benjamin was one of the boys who acted like he thought he was God's gift to women. Not only did Brooke find him boring he was also extremely rude. He'd run into her when she was with the newsies once and he had insulted Spot. Most girls were dying to at least go out with him except Brooke. Obviously that just made her more of a target.
"Benjamin has asked for you to marry him," her uncle said, "I have accepted because it would mean the joining of you father's company and his. It will ensures you a luxurious life."
"Marry him!? I'm only thirteen!"
"You wont marry until you're at a reasonable age; Seventeen at least. As I told you your father's company and his-"
"More money to go in you pocket."
"Young lady, you will show me respect. I have taken you in after your parents' death and this is the thanks I get."
"Sure you took me in. You lock me in this house twenty- four hours a day, won't let me talk to anybody, And then of course you get all the money my father's company makes. You want me to keep goin' Old Man 'cause there's plenty more I can say!"
He slapped her across the face, "This is the end of our discussion. You will marry Benjamin when you are seventeen, and until then you and him shall go out when he wishes. Right now you will go to your room and stay there.
Though her face was red and swelling slightly she kept a calm face as she turned and walked from the room. Rosa was waiting in her room, "You cannot leave again." She said.
"Well I sure as hell can't stay here, Rosa," she snapped. She looked over at her maid, "I'll write I promise but I can't stay here and be put through this anymore. I've had enough. Spot'll take me in I know he will." She hadn't seen him in over two months but had heard that he had taken over Rebel's position as leader. "Get out of here so you can't say you knew something." When Rosa had left she packed everything that was important to her: a journal, a book, her glasses, and all of her newsie clothes. The last thing she did was put on a necklace. On it hung a key that her father had given her. It was to all the rooms in both of the family's houses. It also opened a box that belonged to her father, which she knew was in his office in their Manhattan home. Spot had a similar one that opened a lock somewhere in Brooklyn.
After scrawling Rosa her normal note she climbed out the window. It was later at night so the dark hid her. Rain added to the emptiness of the street and the thunder and lightning ensured that no children would be outside. She ran through the streets slipping a few times on wet stones. She reached the dock to find newsies standing guard as normal.
"What do you's think you're doin'?" one asked stopping her as she tried to pass him.
"Going to see Spot." She said pushing past him. Others began to block her way. Mitchell must be sending attackers to get Spot she realized. Obviously in the dark they did not recognize her, their loss. She lashed out at anyone who got in her way. When she got inside she climbed to the loft, which was dark. An arm shot around her neck and the cold metal blade of a knife was pressed against her throat.
"Who sent you an' whatta you want?" Spot's voice hissed in her ear.
She froze, the knife was no joke, and waited for him to ease up. When he didn't she spoke. "Spot it's me."
He dropped the knife turned her around. "I need to stay here Spot," She said, "Permanently." She launched into her story as he lit a lantern. When she was done he looked at her. "You's gotta cut your hair if ya don' want 'em to recognize you."
She handed him the knife, "Then do it."
With regret he cut most of her hair off and left her with a typical newsie haircut. He helped her carry her things downstairs to her bunk.
Thanks Spot," she said laying down.
"No problem," he kissed her before leaving. She looked after him amazed at his actions.
She thought Spot would let her rest for a few days but he didn't. When she said she was going to stay permanently it meant she would be treated the same as the others. He was in her room at five am. "Hotshot, get up. It's time to go sell papes."
She swatted at him to make him go away and ignored any threats he made. She was tired and only wanted more sleep.
"Alright, I warned you." She didn't feel him pick her up. The next thing she knew she'd hit the ice cold water in the harbor. She surfaced gasping and began cursing at Spot in English and Spanish. "I warned you," he told her, "Now you'll know to get up. Hurry an' get ready. We's leavin' in ten minutes." She splashed him as he walked away and pulled herself out of the water. She did however learn a lesson and was soon up before Spot needed to wake her.
The bulls didn't recognize her in the streets. As a result she was able to live in Brooklyn and not worry about them. Every few months they'd come around looking for her but they never figured it out. Until now her uncle hadn't asked for such an intense search. Why did he want her back so much now?
Over the four years her and Spot's relationship grew. After the kiss they'd started spending time together after selling papers. When time came for Spot to elect newsies for positions and he chose her some of the newsies became angry. They thought it was only because they were dating. Hotshot had fought any of them who wanted her to prove herself badly enough. Even without Spot, before everyone knew about them, she had earned her own reputation. Right before she had been sent away her and Spot's relationship had begun to cool down a little but they were still good friends, only closer, like siblings, now.
And this landed her at present times…
*~*~*End Flashback*~*~*
Hotshot's cheeks were damp with tears.
"Tell 'em who you's uncle is Brooke," Spot whispered. He was sitting next to her with an arm around her shoulder.
"No Spot, I can't do that, I can't."
Spot looked at Jack, who nodded, "Alright Brooke I won't make you talk about it wit' everyone. Please jus' tell Jack."
"Damn it, Spot," she stood up, "I can't talk about it with anyone so back off!"
Specs stood and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him as he brought her back to the bed. It was long past lights out so Jack blew out the lamp. Spot moved to a bed on the opposite side of the room knowing she was mad. Specs waited for her to fall asleep before climbing into his own bed.
A/N: I hope the story is starting to make sense to everyone who's reading it. What do you think so far, and do you have any suggestions. If you do review tell me what you think honestly. I promise another chapter as soon as possible. You can count on a few more before I take a break to study for finals. After school ends I'll probably add chapters faster and post some new stories. Until then, Enjoy!!!
Chapter 6
By Megan
The young woman sat upon the large boat sailing for America. Her controlling parents and society were what caused her to run away. They were to reach New York harbor any day and she would be glad to get off of the boat. She was the only unmarried woman who was old enough for young men to find attractive. Many American sailors seemed to like her slim figure, tan skin, and chocolate brown hair. Her Spanish accent added to their intrigue. She smiled happily for the first time in days seeing the statue of liberty in the distance.
After getting past the immigration officials she walked the streets looking for somewhere to stay. Many of the boarding houses were full and there weren't many job offers. When, at dusk, she still hadn't found a job she stretched out to sleep on a bench.
"Extry! Extry!" a mans cries woke her the next morning. She pushed herself up and looked around. About a dozen young men were running around the streets begging people to buy papers. "Good Morning, Miss," One of them stood in front of her, "Would you like to buy a paper." She looked up to see that he was older than many of the others and probably around her age. His light brown hair glistened in the sun and his blue eyes sparkled.
She smiled; this man was more attractive than her fiancé. She cleared her throat, "How much are they?"
"A penny a pape." His smile matched hers.
The woman then remembered the limited supply of money she had, "I don't think I can afford it."
"Are you looking for a job?"
She looked at him, "At the moment yes, I'm new in New York."
"You ever done sewing before?" he asked, "My mother happens to be looking for some help in her shop."
"I love sewing. Do you think she'd hire someone so young?"
He laughed, "You'd be one of the oldest there. I'll walk there with you if you like."
The two of them began to walk down the street. "Do you have a name?" she asked.
"Brains," he said as he sold a few papers to some gentlemen.
"Surely that's not the name your mother gave you," she laughed.
"No," he agreed, "She named me Christian. She usually calls me Chris. My newsie name is Brains because I have an education." He sold his last paper to an elderly woman as they neared the small shop. "So what about you, what's your name?"
"Maria," she said, "I just got here from Spain yesterday."
"And how old are you?"
She looked at him oddly as he reached for the door, "Eighteen, and you?"
"Nineteen," he looked at a woman in her mid thirties, "Mother, this is Maria, she just got here from Spain. She needs a job and somewhere to stay."
"It's nice to meet you. Why don't you come in back and show me what you can do?" Maria followed Christian's mother into the back room smiling at him over her shoulder. By that night she had a job at Mrs. Lynn's small dress shop and a room in their mansion. Mr. Lynn ran a large company that had four stores in New York alone. Mrs. Lynn just had a dress shop for fun.
Over the next few months Maria adjusted to her life in America. Christian's family was very kind to her and she fit in very well at the shop. To add to everything she got to see Christian every day. He usually stopped by the store after all of his papers were sold.
Eventually a romance grew between them. Even after Maria told him why she had run from her family he still loved her. A little more than a year after she had arrived in the states they were married. Within a year Maria had a son, whom they named Andres after Maria's brother, and three years later a daughter named Brooke, named after the city her family lived in. By this time Christian's father had retired and he had taken over the company. They had homes in both Brooklyn and Manhattan.
Two years after Brooke's birth Christian's father died of a heart attack, and his mother of a stroke two months later. When Andres was eight and Brooke was five her parents had their final children, twins. A boy named Aaron and a girl named Selina. All of the children would sit around every night listening to his stories of when Christian was a Brooklyn newsie. "Don't you go putting ideas in these children's heads." His wife often warned him, "I don't want any of them to run off and become newsies."
The family was shaken again a few years later when Christian was charged with murder. The authorities believed that he had killed another man because someone had seen the man leave their house hours before he was killed. Brooke had been the only one home when the man was there and since she was only six-and-a-half she did not understand most of what was asked in court. Her father was sentenced to life in prison and dragged off to the state penitentiary.
Maria overcome with grief turned to one of her husbands' business associates. He seemed to be the only one who could help her and eventually they were married.
* * *
Brooke hated her life after her father left. Though the man her mother dated treated them all warmly he couldn't replace her father. Andres felt the same way and often threatened to become a newsie. Aaron and Selina were too young to remember much of their father so they treated him like he was their father. When their mother married Jonathan the twins accepted him right away. After they had been married about a month his actions toward the rest of the family started to change. He would hit their mother if dinner were not ready when he got home and for other stupid reason. He never did this when the younger children were around. Immediately after he would apologize and she would accept his apology.
Andres and Brooke got the worst of his temper. Andres was going through a rebellious stage and Brooke just highly disliked him, especially after they figured out what happened to their mother. Andres often ran away and began to spend time with a group of Brooklyn newsies. The bulls would bring him home after a day or two. He would only get a stern talking to when their mother was in the room. After she left Jonathan would whip Andres with a pieces of rope. He punished Brooke when she said something disrespectful by sending her to her room. One night when she spoke out at one of his dinner parties he grounded her for a week.
Andres sat on her windowsill two nights later. He was visiting from his current 'escape' to the newsies headquarters. "What'd you do this time?" he asked
"Me," she looked at him pretending to be insulted. "I mumbled something about him at dinner. No one heard except him. Then I accidentally knocked over his glass and spilled water on him. Now I'm grounded for a week. What's his problem?"
"He's a tight wad, that's what his problem is," Andres hissed a few choice adjectives about their stepfather. "So you wanna get out of here for a few days?"
She looked up, "You mean go be a newsie with you?" Out of her and her brother she had wanted to be a newsie more when her father told them his many stories. "Of course, but won't they mind that I'm a girl?"
"Not if Spot says you's ok. He may be a new leada in training but no one messes wit' 'im." Andre said, "Change and pack light. I'll be back in an hour. Be sure to leave mom a note in Spanish, and use your accent." With that he was gone and she was left alone to pack.
She changed into some of Andres' old clothes and packed an extra set. She had just finished writing a note and was adjusting his old newsie hat to cover her hair when he got back.
"I barely recognized you." He said. After that he was silent and helped her climb out the window and down the tree. She ran as fast as possible to keep up with him in the streets. He ran far away from all of the mansions and shops and down to the harbor. There he was greeted by another newsie and explained the situation. "Is Spot still up?"
"Yeah, but he ain't gonna be to glad you missed curfew." The older newsie claimed.
"Where is he, it's important?"
"The loft."
"C'mon," Andres grabbed her roughly by the collar and pulled her along behind him. He climbed up a ladder inside the one of the buildings. Brooke barely stopped to look at the groups of boys playing poker and other games in small groups. At the top he gave her an order. "Stay in the shadows 'til I tell you to come out." With that he stood and walked over to where another boy was sitting atop a crate. "Hey Spot."
"You's missed curfew BlackJack," he said.
"I had important business," he said, "I'se gots a new newsie for you." He turned and motioned for her to come over. She walked out of the shadows and over to her brother. He took the hat off of her head, revealing that she was a girl. Spot raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
'He can't be much older than me' Brooke thought to herself.
"Who is she?" Spot asked. His eyes like two pieces of ice cutting onto her.
"This is my sister. I had to get her out of the house."
"What exactly does your old man do to you?" Spot turned to Andres who responded with silence. He turned back to Brooke, "What's your name kid?"
"Brooke Lynn." She said.
"No kid, I'se Brooklyn."
"Spot, her name is Brooke. Our fathers last name was Lynn."
"She don't got a newsie name." He seemed surprised.
"I been tryin to think a one but nuthin' fits. I call her En Brooklyn, but that ain't a good newsie name."
"What's it mean?"
"In Brooklyn." Andres looked around absently, "Maybe you could think a one tomorrow."
"Can she shoot?" Before Andres or Black Jack as he was known here could answer Spot pulled out a slingshot. "Can you shoot this?"
"Yes," she matched his tone. Her brother tapped her shoulder warning her not to get smart with him.
Spot placed the slingshot in her palm and placed three bottles on the rafters, "Show me." He showed her where to back up to and gave her three marbles. She took aim and hit each one perfectly, thankful for the practice with her brother's.
"What about cards?"
"She's the only one who can beat me at Blackjack occasionally and she beats me at poker all the time."
"Alright, she can stay. We'll think of a name tomorrow." He looked her in the eye and she met his gaze to which most others would look away from. "Welcome to the newsies Brooke." He spit in his palm and held out his hand.
Brooke knew most girls her age were disgusted when boys did that but it didn't bother her at all. She spit in her hand and shook his. Andres got her settled in one of the extra bunks and they both fell asleep.
The next morning Spot wake her up at five am. Most of the other boys were getting up by themselves. When she was ready he led her outside to a group of older boys. BlackJack followed closely behind them.
"Rebel," he addressed the head newsie, "This is Black Jack's sister Brooke. She's joinin' the newsies."
Rebel looked at the younger newsie. Spot was younger than him but he would be taking over soon. He may have looked young and scrawny but he was a hard fighter. "Can she shoot?"
Spot answered by explaining the previous night events and adding the answers of other questions he knew his friend would ask, "She can shoot, and beat Black Jack at his game and poker, an' I dunno if she can fight.
"Bet she can't fight. She's a goil," an older newsie said, "Beat it shrimp." He reached forward to push her back but she was quicker and gave him a black eye.
"Back off Hotshot," Spot said, "Stop showin' off."
"Let her alone Mitchell," Rebel warned her attacker. "She's got a name so I guess she's a newsie now." He said.
"She's got a name?" Spot was confused.
"You named her yourself, Hotshot," Rebel said nodding, "I think it'll fit."
With that Spot, Black Jack, Hotshot and a few other newsies walked off the pier to start a day of selling papers. Hotshot glanced over her shoulder to see Mitchell glaring after her. The boy looked around Spot's age but seemed meaner. Through the newsies she learned tricks for selling papers and was a natural at it. They would get their papers everyday and sell most of them by early afternoon. When they were done the group would go to the local restaurant, Calvin's.
One day when they were sitting at a booth near the door a group of cops came in. Spot pushed Hotshot and Black Jack toward the door, but it was too late. The bulls had seen them. They ran down the street but were caught when two bulls tackled Andres and one grabbed Brooke's arm.
After their mother saw they were home safely Jonathan brought them to his office. Brooke stood outside while he lectured and hit her older brother. She was called in after Andres ran up to his room. Jonathan gave her his lecture on how what she had done was wrong and that she would never do it again. The entire time he spoke she gave him the blank stare Spot had taught her on her second night. When Jonathan finally looked at her he slapped her across the face. Her cheek felt as though it was on fire but she would not allow herself to cry out.
Over the next three years Andres and Brooke continued to run away. They could handle being punished when they deserved it but their stepfather punished them just to keep people from seeing them, and other unfair reasons. Whenever they ran away they'd spend their time in the Brooklyn newsies boarding house. Andres would often leave and tell his sister to meet him at the pier in a few days. Sometimes she would leave before him. Thankfully the two had a friend like Spot who always had an open bunk for them. The tricks each of them picked up were very useful when selling, as well as at home. There were some rules that had to be followed while with the newsies. While Andres could walk around by himself all day Brooke had to stay with someone at all times. This was to keep the bulls from catching her, as Rebel said, but was also because she was a girl. The bulls, however, never failed to catch them after a few days. The longest they ever stayed away was two weeks.
Their punishments at home also worsened. Andres was still whipped and Jonathan would scream at him. Brooke's punishment elevated from being slapped to being kicked, beaten, and eventually Jonathan began to use the whip on her. She still gave her glare and took her punishment silently which seemed to unnerve him. The few times the two told their mother what was happening she didn't believe them. Even the marks across their backs from his whip were not proof enough.
One night on the way back from a show the carriage the family was riding in tipped over when the horses spooked. All six of the passengers flew off in different directions. Brooke's head came in contact with the hard cobble stone street. Everything went black.
Days later the twelve-year-old girl woke up in the hospital. Jonathan's brother, the owner of one of New York's best newspapers, was sitting next to her bed. (It's one of the guys in the movie but I'm not gonna tell you which. Does anyone think Hearst looks like that Grissom guy from CSI???) He informed her that her mother and the six-year-old twins had been killed in the accident. Fifteen-year-old Andres and Jonathan were in critical condition. When she was brought back to his mansion to recover he kept her in her room for close to a week. When she was allowed out again no one would tell her anything about Andres and Jonathan so she assumed they were dead.
In her uncle's mansion things were as bad as before. Though he did not punish her she was not allowed outside without a maid or servant. She was also not allowed to talk to anyone on the street. The only good thing about the house was how kind the servants were. Since she was kind to them they were much more willing to listen. Brooke's maid, Rosa, was a Hispanic woman in her mid-twenties. She was surprised and happy to learn that Brooke spoke Spanish fluently. Brooke's uncle, however, did not allow her to speak Spanish to anyone other than servants. If she did she was grounded for a week. When Brooke finally needed to get away from her uncle's control she begged Rosa to take her to the store. Using her money (she inherited her parents fortune and her uncle took control of Jonathan's company) she bought two worn pairs of pants, a few shirts, kerchiefs, a hat, boots, and other articles of clothing.
During her uncles next card game the owners of The Sun, The World, The Times, The Gazette, etc (the ones from the movie) were all there. She politely asked to join their card game to which her uncle refused. When she mumbled something in Spanish he had one of the servants bring her to her room. That evening she wrote Rosa a note in Spanish explaining her actions. She packed all that she would need to bring with her after changing her clothes. Like Andres had taught her she climbed out a window and to the ground using a tree.
She ran the entire way to the pier where a few boys playing poker and talking were the only ones still outside. Most of them looked up as she passed. She walked into the lodging building on the end of the pier, and climbed the ladder to the loft. When she emerged from the shadows Spot dropped the cards he was holding, revealing what would have been the winning hand to the round of poker he was playing with Rebel, Lockpick, Swinger, and Roman.
"Hotshot," he said, "It's about time you two got back here. We ain't heard from either of you in almos' six months. We checked you's house a few times but nobody was there. Where's your brutha?" He looked past her trying to see Black Jack in the shadows.
Hotshot shook her head indicating that he wasn't there. She held a hand to her face trying to wipe the tears off.
Spot looked at Rebel for permission to leave. Rebel nodded and Spot jumped up. He walked over to Hotshot and led her downstairs. "What happened?" he asked sitting her on his bunk.
"Jonathan, our stepfather, took us all to a show for Mama's birthday. On the way back the carriage crashed when the horses spooked. I've been stayin' wit' my uncle. Mama, Selina, Aaron, Jonathan, they're all dead."
"Black Jack?"
She nodded pressing her hands to her face. "Spot we really needs ta talk. Remember when you wanted to know why I was comin' wit' my brutha?"
Spot nodded, "We all know sumthin' was goin' on but he neva told us what."
Hotshot launched into the stories about Jonathan beating their mother, his punishments for them and more. When she was done Spot urged her to go to bed before running upstairs to tell Rebel.
The next morning Spot dragged her out to Rebel's post after she'd woken up. "Does your uncle hit you too?" Rebel was to the point when he spoke.
"No," she said, "He knows I can press charges against him."
"Good, just remember that you're welcome here all the time."
Spot and Hotshot walked to the distribution office and bought their papers. They were some of the first newsies there so they sold them fairly quickly. Spot dragged her to a store to buy some marbles and a slingshot for Hotshot. On the way there they passed Scruff and Wiser who were selling papers on a street corner. After they'd bought everything the walked back to the pier. An hour later Hotshot was playing a game of poker with a few other newsies when Scruff showed up with another newsie. The newsie with him was taller and unfamiliar to Hotshot but Spot seemed to know him. She stayed back, not really concerned about getting to meet him. If Spot thought it was important he'd introduce them. Wiser came trotting onto the pier almost half an hour later. The unfamiliar newsie started yelling at him about losing Specs. Hotshot watched them confused. Who's spectacles did Wiser lose. He was wearing his around his neck. Spot looked at her, Roman, and Swinger and ran over after speaking to Rebel.
"We's got a bit of a situation. We'll be back in a few hours at the most. Stay here." He said before turning and running off.
"Alright gentlemen," Hotshot said not really caring, "How much money you got wit' you?"
A large group of the newsies that left with Spot, Rebel, and the other newsie came back about an hour later. Spot and Rebel got back after curfew. Normally Hotshot would have given him crap about being late like he did to the others when they were, but he looked tired and upset so she just walked with him. "What happened?"
"That newsie that came wit' Scruff," Spot said taking out a cigarette and lighting it, "He's my friend Jack from Manhattan. He had a new newsie with him named Specs. Jack and Scruff came here to find me while Wiser and Specs checked the store. Specs got lost on the way back and Mitchell's group found him."
"Mitchell's group?"
"You remember Mitchell. He and some of the other newsies were mad 'bout me bein' leader after Rebel leaves next year so they left and started their own group. Anyway they found Specs and beat him up real bad. Scorpion had to carry him back to Manhattan."
"Poor guy."
"Yeah," he threw the cigarette into the water and nodded, "Let's go to bed."
A few days later Brooke was caught and dragged home. Her uncle was furious just as Jonathan had always been. He didn't beat her but looked like he wanted to. She was, of course, grounded and only talked to Rosa for a week.
Over the next year she continued running away from home to stay with Spot and the newsies. Sometimes the bulls brought her back, but there were also times when she came back on her own. One day when she was thirteen her uncle called her to his office.
"Michel Taylor's son Benjamin quite fancies you." He said.
"Well I can't say I feel the same." She scoffed. Benjamin was one of the boys who acted like he thought he was God's gift to women. Not only did Brooke find him boring he was also extremely rude. He'd run into her when she was with the newsies once and he had insulted Spot. Most girls were dying to at least go out with him except Brooke. Obviously that just made her more of a target.
"Benjamin has asked for you to marry him," her uncle said, "I have accepted because it would mean the joining of you father's company and his. It will ensures you a luxurious life."
"Marry him!? I'm only thirteen!"
"You wont marry until you're at a reasonable age; Seventeen at least. As I told you your father's company and his-"
"More money to go in you pocket."
"Young lady, you will show me respect. I have taken you in after your parents' death and this is the thanks I get."
"Sure you took me in. You lock me in this house twenty- four hours a day, won't let me talk to anybody, And then of course you get all the money my father's company makes. You want me to keep goin' Old Man 'cause there's plenty more I can say!"
He slapped her across the face, "This is the end of our discussion. You will marry Benjamin when you are seventeen, and until then you and him shall go out when he wishes. Right now you will go to your room and stay there.
Though her face was red and swelling slightly she kept a calm face as she turned and walked from the room. Rosa was waiting in her room, "You cannot leave again." She said.
"Well I sure as hell can't stay here, Rosa," she snapped. She looked over at her maid, "I'll write I promise but I can't stay here and be put through this anymore. I've had enough. Spot'll take me in I know he will." She hadn't seen him in over two months but had heard that he had taken over Rebel's position as leader. "Get out of here so you can't say you knew something." When Rosa had left she packed everything that was important to her: a journal, a book, her glasses, and all of her newsie clothes. The last thing she did was put on a necklace. On it hung a key that her father had given her. It was to all the rooms in both of the family's houses. It also opened a box that belonged to her father, which she knew was in his office in their Manhattan home. Spot had a similar one that opened a lock somewhere in Brooklyn.
After scrawling Rosa her normal note she climbed out the window. It was later at night so the dark hid her. Rain added to the emptiness of the street and the thunder and lightning ensured that no children would be outside. She ran through the streets slipping a few times on wet stones. She reached the dock to find newsies standing guard as normal.
"What do you's think you're doin'?" one asked stopping her as she tried to pass him.
"Going to see Spot." She said pushing past him. Others began to block her way. Mitchell must be sending attackers to get Spot she realized. Obviously in the dark they did not recognize her, their loss. She lashed out at anyone who got in her way. When she got inside she climbed to the loft, which was dark. An arm shot around her neck and the cold metal blade of a knife was pressed against her throat.
"Who sent you an' whatta you want?" Spot's voice hissed in her ear.
She froze, the knife was no joke, and waited for him to ease up. When he didn't she spoke. "Spot it's me."
He dropped the knife turned her around. "I need to stay here Spot," She said, "Permanently." She launched into her story as he lit a lantern. When she was done he looked at her. "You's gotta cut your hair if ya don' want 'em to recognize you."
She handed him the knife, "Then do it."
With regret he cut most of her hair off and left her with a typical newsie haircut. He helped her carry her things downstairs to her bunk.
Thanks Spot," she said laying down.
"No problem," he kissed her before leaving. She looked after him amazed at his actions.
She thought Spot would let her rest for a few days but he didn't. When she said she was going to stay permanently it meant she would be treated the same as the others. He was in her room at five am. "Hotshot, get up. It's time to go sell papes."
She swatted at him to make him go away and ignored any threats he made. She was tired and only wanted more sleep.
"Alright, I warned you." She didn't feel him pick her up. The next thing she knew she'd hit the ice cold water in the harbor. She surfaced gasping and began cursing at Spot in English and Spanish. "I warned you," he told her, "Now you'll know to get up. Hurry an' get ready. We's leavin' in ten minutes." She splashed him as he walked away and pulled herself out of the water. She did however learn a lesson and was soon up before Spot needed to wake her.
The bulls didn't recognize her in the streets. As a result she was able to live in Brooklyn and not worry about them. Every few months they'd come around looking for her but they never figured it out. Until now her uncle hadn't asked for such an intense search. Why did he want her back so much now?
Over the four years her and Spot's relationship grew. After the kiss they'd started spending time together after selling papers. When time came for Spot to elect newsies for positions and he chose her some of the newsies became angry. They thought it was only because they were dating. Hotshot had fought any of them who wanted her to prove herself badly enough. Even without Spot, before everyone knew about them, she had earned her own reputation. Right before she had been sent away her and Spot's relationship had begun to cool down a little but they were still good friends, only closer, like siblings, now.
And this landed her at present times…
*~*~*End Flashback*~*~*
Hotshot's cheeks were damp with tears.
"Tell 'em who you's uncle is Brooke," Spot whispered. He was sitting next to her with an arm around her shoulder.
"No Spot, I can't do that, I can't."
Spot looked at Jack, who nodded, "Alright Brooke I won't make you talk about it wit' everyone. Please jus' tell Jack."
"Damn it, Spot," she stood up, "I can't talk about it with anyone so back off!"
Specs stood and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him as he brought her back to the bed. It was long past lights out so Jack blew out the lamp. Spot moved to a bed on the opposite side of the room knowing she was mad. Specs waited for her to fall asleep before climbing into his own bed.
A/N: I hope the story is starting to make sense to everyone who's reading it. What do you think so far, and do you have any suggestions. If you do review tell me what you think honestly. I promise another chapter as soon as possible. You can count on a few more before I take a break to study for finals. After school ends I'll probably add chapters faster and post some new stories. Until then, Enjoy!!!