Past Secrets and Present Times

Chapter 11

By Megan

Kloppman came bounding up the stairs after Snipeshooter and Boots, who'd been sent to find him. He came into the room to find more of the newsies in an assortment of different places. Jack was helping Kid Blink put his shirt on. Most of the other boys were either scattered in a small semicircle around him, or finding a shirt to put on. Hotshot walked quickly out of the bathroom and placed a damp cloth of Kid Blink's head. "What's going on?" Kloppman asked.

Hotshot turned to the older man, "Kid Blink has tuberculosis. We have to get him to the hospital."

"Tuberculosis," Kloppman remembered an epidemic that had left him the only surviving member of his family. He looked at Kid Blink and found him looking similar to the way his own younger brother had looked before he died. "I'll stay here for the others. Get him there as fast as you can. I'll leave the doors open."

"Thanks Kloppman," Hotshot, turned to the other boys in the room, "Mush, Bumlets, get him up. Snipeshooter, Boots, and Crutchy, you stay here and tell the others. Boots run and tell Dave's parents he's going to be home late tonight.

Boots jumped out into the fire escape and disappeared as Bumlets lifted Kid Blink off of the bed. Kid didn't put up a fight at all and was too weak to do anything but lie there. Specs was just finishing explaining to Jack that he'd seen Kid Blink throw up blood a week earlier. He felt like he was completely to blame for everything. She motioned for Jack to start bringing them to the hospital. He led them out of the room as she took Specs' face in her hands. "I don't care what you think. This is not your fault. He wouldn't have listened to any of us. You know that." She took a deep breath, "Do you wanna stay here or come to the hospital?"

"Hospital," Specs said and the two of them ran after their friends.

It was impossible for newsies to get a ride in Manhattan so they had to walk the entire way. Mush and Bumlets took turns carrying Kid Blink who had seemed to lose the ability to stand, much less walk.

As they entered the large building the receptionist looked up from her paperwork, "Can I help you?"

Jack spoke for them, "Our friend has tuberculosis. He needs to see a doctor now."

She looked them over, "How will you be paying?"

"I don't know but we'll pay."

"We can't admit him if you can't pay the bill." The woman said, "I'm very sorry."

Hotshot pushed her way to the front of the group. She knew that what she was about to do probably would get her caught but Kid Blink's life was at risk so it was worth it. "Excuse me," she said, "I am Brooke Maria Lynn, the daughter of Christian Lynn."

The young receptionist gasped. Even with Christian in jail he was still highly respected and the young girl in front of the desk looked too mush like him to be lying. "What can I do for you Miss Lynn?" she spoke with great respect.

"I would like my friend to be admitted to this hospital. I will be paying his bills. Please get him the best doctor possible."

"What is his name?"

"Excuse me?"

"I can see that he is a newsie Miss, but we need his real name to admit him."

"Gimme a minute," she turned to the other newsies, "What's his real name?"

Nobody knew.

She turned to Bumlets and took Kid Blink's face in her hands, "Kid, you need to tell me your real name."

His eyes seemed somewhat blurry, but not as much as before, "Trey Parker," he said weakly.

"Trey Parker," she told the nurse. Within minutes they were rolling him into a room on a stretcher and telling the newsies to wait in the waiting room. It was then that Hotshot finally realized that she was only wearing a tank top. Most of the guys were only wearing an undershirt or a buttoned shirt. Jack noticed her predicament at the same time and took off his outer shirt. She pulled it on and buttoned it up. If the bulls came in she'd look somewhat like a boy.

A few hours later the receptionist called for two or three of them to come over. Hotshot, Jack, and David walked over. "Mr. Parker is resting comfortably. The doctors are trying everything possible. It would have been better if it were caught earlier but he still has a good chance." She then turned to Hotshot, "Miss Lynn, two detectives from the police department were notified when you arrived. Our security section has been ordered to keep you here until they arrive. Would you please follow me to our private lounge."

Jack and Hotshot merely exchanged a glance, unnoticeable to the hospital employees, but the glance told Hotshot the entire plan. She bolted out the door with Jack yelling after her, "Brooke, come back!" They'd all reverted to calling her by her real name at the hospital for safety reasons. She spotted the two detectives walking toward the hospital and prayed the shadows of twilight would keep her hidden enough, but one of the hospitals security guards was yelling to them.

"Come back!" one of them yelled after her. The other threatened to shoot if she didn't stop. She heard the shot seconds later and felt it hit the ground inches from her foot. She took a shortcut through the alleys that Kid Blink had taught her to get to David's house. Jack had told her to hide there. She climbed the fire escape and tapped on the window.

Les was closest to it and threw it open. "How's Kid Blink?" he asked as she climbed inside and shut the window behind her.

"I dunno, Les, they're working at him back at the hospital." She said, and then turned to Mr. And Mrs. Jacobs, "Can I please stay here tonight. The bulls were at the hospital looking for me. They're billing me for Kid Blink's treatment but if I go they'll send me back to my uncle. Jack's gonna bring David back to the lodging house tonight and we'll figure the rest out tomorrow."

"Of course," Mrs. Jacobs said, "There's an extra bed in Sarah's room."

Sarah took Hotshot into her room and Hotshot explained everything that had happened. By the end she looked ready to cry but bit her lip to keep from doing so.

"You know someone who died of it, don't you?" Sarah asked.

Hotshot nodded, "Misery, one of the first newsies I met in Brooklyn. I was still with my stepfather after he died. I found out everything I could about it. I knew all the symptoms, but I didn't see them in Kid Blink."

"Don't be hard on yourself, everyone knows how he tries to hide things," Sarah sensed that Hotshot wanted to change the subject, "Isn't that Jack's shirt you're wearing?"

"Yeah, you can tell I'm a girl if I don't wear something baggy so he lent it to me at the hospital."

Their conversation lasted for a while longer, until Hotshot fell asleep. For the first time in months her sleep was plagued with nightmares. She tossed and turned all night, and oddly still felt awake in the morning. The final dream she had that night was horrible. Jonathan was standing over her, whip in hand, with a cruel smile on his face. She was the same age she really was, not still twelve in the dream. He tapped his whip against his hand a few times before launching himself at her. Every time he hit her a shot of pain seemed to burn her back. She rolled over and put a hand up to stop him. The whip was replaced with a heavy cane. He brought it down hard on her skull.

She practically jumped as she sat up in bed. How could he still torment her if he was already dead? The numerous scars along her back burned, more than they had since she'd received them. She calmed down and pushed the blankets off of her. Before she got out of bed she listened. She could hear numerous people in the kitchen, too many to just be the Jacobs. She peered around the doorframe and found the Jacobs in addition to Jack, Specs, Skittery, and Race, seated in the kitchen.

"Hey, look who's up," Skittery said, grinning.

She walked into the kitchen to join them and found that they filled all of the seats. She stopped and stood between David and Specs. When Mrs. Jacobs offered her breakfast she politely refused, "So what're we gonna do?" She asked.

"For once," Jack admitted, "I have absolutely no idea."

"I can turn myself in." She spoke slowly and quietly, cutting off Jack's protest, "Run to another city or find somewhere to hide."

The group of them that were there thought over the choices. "Do ya wanna run?" Jack asked.

She looked up and met his eyes with a defiant look across her face, "I don't know." She turned to the others, "What do you think?"

"She should stay at Medda's and sell with us," Specs said, "Me and Race can watch her."

"Yeah," Race said, "I don' mind strayin' from the races for a few weeks."

"Dat ain't a bad idea, Jack." Skittery said to Jack's uncertain face.

Jack turned to David, "Whatta you think?"

"She should stay here instead. That way me or Les'll be able to watch her at night."

He turned, "Hotshot..."

"It'll work," she said grimly, "But I think I'd better look for a lawyer in case I get caught."

Jack, Dave, and Sarah exchanged a glance and Jack spoke for them, "Get ready to go. I might know a guy."

She was ready a few minutes later and they walked to a large apartment building. Jack knocked on the door and quietly said, "I hope he's home."

Hotshot nodded and pulled her hat tighter onto her head. Specs put a hand on her shoulder and whispered, "You can trust him." Race, Dave, and Skittery also offered encouraging remarks. The door opened a moment later, revealing a man that seemed to be in his mid to late twenties. He smiled warmly when he saw the newsies.

"Hello boys. How are you?"

"Hey Denton," Jack said, "Can we come in?"

He opened the door wider and ushered them inside, "What can I do for you?"

Jack smiled, "Let's sit down. I got a lot to fill you in on." They all took seats around a large table in the center of the room. "So Denton, it's nice to see you back from the war nice an' safe."

"Jack, get to the point. Why are you here?" Denton was to the point.

"You remember David, Specs, Skittery, and Race."

Denton nodded.

"This is Hotshot, who knows it is polite to take off one's hat in the presence of someone older." Hotshot glared at him but took off her hat. Denton gasped. "She might need you's help Denton." Jack told him. He filled her in on her basic past, "Can you help her? You told us you had some training in law."

"I might be able to but there are a lot of people better than me."

"I just need a co-council," Hotshot interrupted, "I can do most of it myself."

"Oh really," Denton looked at her, "How?"

"My father was a lawyer. He taught me."

"Who's your father?"

"Christian Lynn." She said it as if it were no big deal.

"You're Brooke Lynn?" When she only nodded he spoke, "Alright, I'll help. You should give me first chair. The jury won't listen to someone your age."

"Alright."

They worked it out and brought Brooke's things to David's house. She left them on the extra bed in Sarah's room. The worst part about the plan was that she couldn't go to the hospital and relied on the others stories about Kid Blink to find out how he was doing.

* * *

"I'll give each of you double a months pay if you can catch her." The man told the three newsies. One of them was from Brooklyn and the other two were Manhattan natives. All three nodded in approval. They'd agreed because each of them had a bone to pick with the target of their kidnapping.

"If she fights do we have permission to beat her a bit?" the one with the bandaged nose asked.

"Go ahead. She deserves whatever you give her."

"Yeah, she does." The older, and just as battered, taller version of the first speaker replied.

"Hush, both of you." The Brooklyn newsie silenced them both, "We'll have her back to you by tomorrow night Mr. Pulitzer." He promised.

As the three of them left the two brothers snarled, "We'll get her good for what she done to us," the elder said, "She'll never know what hit her."

"If he wasn't payin' us so much I'd be just as content leavin' her in the streets to die," his brother said, "I ain't gonna rest 'til I get her and Davey back for what they did."

"Then they deserve what's coming to them." Oscar hissed, "Too bad we ain't bein' paid to do it to all the newsies."

"I'd be in heaven if they asked us to do that, but remember I get first dibs on beating her up."

"Both of you shut your mouths," the Brooklyn newsie whispered harshly, "You are just there to create a diversion and get her into that alley. She's all mine after that, and you can have her when I'm done. I'll get revenge for what she did to me. No girl will ever want to be a newsie after I make and example out of her." The glare in his eye was the only thing that kept the scabs from saying something back. They knew he was from Brooklyn, and therefore, could probably kill them.

"Yes," he said, "I'll get my revenge on you Hotshot. Just you wait."

* * *

The next morning Specs and Race met Hotshot and David at the distribution office. They had promised Jack that they would sell with her and were determined to keep their promise. When she saw them waiting after they bough their papes she groaned. Jack had trusted her enough to let her sell before. She should have known he'd pair her up with someone again.

"So where we sellin' taday fellas?" she asked.

"The races." Racetrack suggested.

Specs gave him a look, "Another reason you're here is to keep you from going there for a while," he warned Race, "We aren't going there."

Race pouted as they walked down the street selling papers. It made him look even younger than he was and made it easier for him to sell papes.

"If you concentrated half as much on your bets as you do on your selling you might actually have some extra money," she told him.

"So could you," Race shot back, "but you still play poker with me every night dontcha?"

She raised an eyebrow, he was as quick as Spot when it came to comebacks. She turned to Specs, "Has he always been this difficult?"

"As long as I known him he has," he said selling a few papers to an older woman, "An I'm pretty sure he's been like it long as he'd been able to talk."

"I have pity on whoever raised him," she said.

"An' I have pity on whoever raise you," Race said, "Dear me you must have been a difficult child to raise."

She shrugged off his comment, "So how's Kid?"

Specs looked away, "He ain't doin' so hot. He had a bunch a coughing fits last night and passed out after the last one. He really wishes you could come and see him an' boy did he apologize to Jack yestaday. They was in there alone for half and hour."

"He'd better get better," Race said.

Hotshot merely nodded in agreement. She didn't think she could take another friend dying from the horrible disease, "So was anyone else around the boarding house sick at all?"

Specs shook his head as he and Hotshot stopped to sell papers to a large group of people. Race kept walking ahead of them, "No they're all fine. Some of them were really scared though. Sarah told Jack that her parents were sort of bothered by the fact that David and Les might be exposed to it." The group they had been selling to had moved on by this point they had caught up with Race.

They sold the rest of the morning papers and got the afternoon edition. They used the same tactics to sell. Race usually walked ahead of them and the other two would talk about various subjects. When they were down to a few papers each Specs and Hotshot stopped walking completely. Race walked ahead of them yelling headlines.

"So what'll you do if you get caught?" Specs asked.

"Run," she said, "It's really the only thing I can do. What would you do if they caught me?" She wanted to see how much he really cared about her, "What would you do to help me?"

Before he could answer a loud crash was heard in the direction Race had walked off in. The two of them sprinted to an alleyway and looked down it. Oscar and Maurice stood over Racetrack who was huddled on the ground, nursing some kind of injury and trying to protect himself. The Delancy's took off.

"See to Race," Hotshot said as she started after them, but Specs was right behind her. She stopped herself and him, "I can handle them. See to Racetrack."

He looked at her hesitantly for a moment before following her orders. Hotshot ran in the direction the Delancy's had taken. When she reached a dead end she stopped and turned around, "Come out scabs," she said.

They slowly came out of their hiding place, "Not so tough by yourself are you, Sweetface." Oscar commented. She flipped her foot forward and kicked him in the jaw. A cry of pain escaped him. Because he and Maurice were in such bad shape after their last fight she knocked them both out within a minute.

She turned to go back to Specs and Race but a hand grabbed her wrist. She looked up and gasped, "Mitchell."

He laughed, "You thought you could just come and take over, didn't you. Thought you were better than any boy in New York. If it wasn't for you I would be the leader a Brooklyn, not Spot." He tightened his grip on her arm, "Whatta you got to say for yourself?"

"Well thank God I was there then, 'cause if I hadn't been you would a ruined the place." She tried to flip away from him but he was ready. He brought his fist down hard against her back and she cried out. He took firm hold of her and began dragging her in the direction of the richer section of town. "No," she shouted, "You can't bring me back there."

He only laughed as she struggled more.

Specs and Race by this time had reached the alley. They knew they could not take on Mitchell so they kept to the shadows and followed them. She was still yelling as Mitchell dragged her into a large mansion. "Race, you good enough to go back to the lodging house and tell 'em what happened."

"Yeah."

"Good, go and tell them I'll meet you guys at Tibby's tomorrow around noon." Racetrack took off and Specs climbed the fence and hid against the house. He'd watched to see what room she was in and made a decision to go in the next morning. He was also surprise by the name on her uncle's fence. Her uncle was none other than Joseph Pulitzer. "Oh Brooke," he whispered.