Past Secrets and Present Times
Chapter 12
By MeganInstead of being brought to her uncle's office when she entered the mansion Mitchell gave her to some of the servants, and she was brought to her room. They closed the door behind her and locked her in. She beat on the door and let a string of curses it Spanish and English flow from her mouth. After a minute she ran to the window and found it locked. "Ugh!" she groaned collapsing on the bed. The knock came at the door a few minutes later. "Go away!" she yelled.
"You have such a temper," a familiar voice responded as the door opened and closed.
"Rosa," Brooke jumped up and hugged the older woman, "It's so good to see you again. Please tell me you have good news?"
"I can't get you out." At this Brooke slouched back onto the bed, "You will see your uncle tomorrow morning, and if you want I can go pick you up some new clothes." She glanced at Brooke's ripped and stained newsie clothes.
Brooke thought for a second. If she was here she might as well be comfortable, "Get something like what I'm wearing?"
"I'll have it by eight o clock tomorrow morning, now do you want some dinner?"
"No," Brooke insisted. She'd been starving before, but being in a place she hated so much took away her appetite.
"I'll see you in the morning then." Rosa left the room and locked the door behind her. Brooke didn't hate her for it. It was Pulitzer's orders. She sat down on her bed and looked around, smiling when she found her books. She picked one up and read until she fell asleep.
Specs leaned against the side of the house as the newsie that had brought Hotshot in left. It was the same one who had beaten him up twice in Brooklyn. He wanted more than anything to go and just attack the newsie for information but restrained himself. He had to get Hotshot out before he did anything else. For now he found himself waiting until morning to climb up to her window. He brought his head back to rest against the brick wall and drifted to sleep.
Brooke woke up at Brooklyn time the next morning. Rosa was walking around her room, "What are you doing?"
"I'm figuring out the sizes I need to buy. You've grown since the last time I bought clothes for you. What on earth are you doing up so early?"
"I'm used to it," she yawned.
"Well try to get some more sleep, and if you can't clean up this room a little," Rosa left the room.
Brooke got up and began to sort through everything that was on the floor. She shoved some boxes under her bed and placed two books back on the bookshelf. Next she went to the closet and opened it, hoping there would be something decent. She sighed when she found all that was in there were dresses. She pulled on her newsie clothes from the day before and sat on her bed, thinking of how boring life had always been in this house. Just as she was beginning to fall back asleep there was a loud rap on the window. She opened one eye and nearly rolled off the bed when she saw Specs sitting on a tree outside. She reached for the lock so she could try to pick it but found it already unlocked, thanks to Rosa as usual. She pulled the window open, "What are you doing here?"
He jumped inside and wrapped his arms around her, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Were you out there all night?"
"Yeah, Race is fine. I'm supposed to meet the fellas at Tibby's around noon," At this point he paused for a second, "Why didn't you tell us who he was?"
"We sell his paper in the city where it's made and where he lives. I never would have seen the outside of the lodging house. You know Jack would have locked me in."
Specs nodded. She was right; Jack would have made her stay inside. He'd done it to the others when the bulls were looking for them. Once he kept Bumlets and Kid Blink inside for a week. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, "Alright, how are we gonna get you outta here?"
"I-" she was cut off by a knock at the door.
Before either of them could move Rosa opened the door and came in. She was carrying a bag of clothes for Brooke and set them down on the bed. "Would you like to introduce me to your friend?" She looked Brooke straight in the eye as she spoke.
She motioned for Specs to calm down, as he was ready to jump out the window. "Rosa this is Specs, Specs this is Rosa. Thank you so much." She picked up the bag of clothes.
"Are you planning on helping her get out of this house?" Rosa asked Specs, "Legally?"
Specs nodded, "We got her a lawyer yesterday. I'm sort of here to find out what she wants to do. And 'cause I'se her friend."
Rosa nodded in approval, "Then you and me have some talking to do, Brooke go take a shower and change into those clothes. Your uncle wants to see you in an hour." Despite Brooke's protest she ushered the younger girl into the bathroom and then sat down across the room from Specs. "Go to the front door and just wait. When the butler opens the door he will bring you to Mr. Pulitzer's office. Brooke will be there already. If this is going to sound serious she'll need someone to back her up."
"You knew I was coming, didn't you?" he accused.
Rosa smiled, "I saw you follow them in and run around the side of the house last night."
The two went over more details of the plan while Brooke showered and dressed. When she came out she looked muck more awake and comfortable. She wore a gray pair of Capri's and a darker shirt under a black one that was unbuttoned over it. The clothes showed off her figure a little more than her old clothes. To add to it her hair was not pulled up into a tight ponytail on top of her head. She could now let it frame her face. Specs raised an eyebrow. Before he'd liked her because of her personality but she didn't look half bad. He was far too used to seeing everyone covered in dirt.
"What about his clothes?" Rosa asked, breaking Specs out of his trance. He looked down at his clothes. He wore a scuffed pair of boots, dark pants, a dark vest that was a different shade of brown from the pants, and dark brown, almost black suspenders. A lot of newsies wore dark colors to hide stains from dirt. His white shirt showed a few spots that had gotten dirty the previous day. He held his black fedora in his hand. "Maybe he would fit into some of your brother's old clothes." She suggested.
"He's fine," Brooke insisted, she wanted her uncle to see them like they really were. If he saw her with Specs, who didn't look like he wore clean clothes everyday, he would be incredibly mad, and that just gave her more of an advantage. "Give us a few minutes?" she asked.
Rosa nodded, "I'll be back in ten to get you." She closed the door behind her.
"How do you want me to act?" Specs asked, "Should I talk like a newsie or normal?"
Her face told him something he said had just triggered something in her head. "Talk like a newsie, but don't overdo it. And call me Hotshot not Brooke"
Specs nodded in understanding. So exactly what are you trying to do in court?"
"Trying to get emancipation. The earliest age you can get it is sixteen. I had the papers drawn up when I was eleven. Damn, they're in my dad's office back in Brooklyn."
"Gimme the key and I'll go get them," Specs offered.
"I would," she said, "But Andres was the one who had the key to the office. He gave it to one of his friends before he died but I don't know whom."
"We'll figure that out later. Just don't get yourself in too much trouble down there." With that he started toward the window, "Oh, how together do you want him to think we are?"
"Not dating, just really good friends. I'm planning something for court so he can't think we're too involved."
"Gotcha," he climbed out the window and down the tree as Rosa came back to the room. She led Brooke downstairs, to her uncle's office.
His back was turned when she entered. "Sit," was all he said. She slouched in a chair and watched him with a Spot-like glare as he tuned around. He frowned in disapproval but said nothing, "So we finally found you. I hear you've been quite the traveler young lady. All over New York they say; Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens, Harlem."
"Well don' believe everything ya hear," she left enough of a newsie accent to bother him and added a few adjectives in Spanish.
"Let's not start that again Brooke. I'd rather not be forced to let Jonathan punish you, though I can't say you don't deserve it."
"Jonathan's dead." She spat.
"No my dear child he is still alive. When you asked me if he died I merely never said he had. He has his own room right down the hall from you." His face told he was telling the truth.
"And Andres? Is he alive too?" Her tone was believing but bitter.
Before Pulitzer could answer a servant stuck his head in the door, "A guest for you Mr. Pulitzer." He said. As Specs came into the room Brooke acted like she hadn't seen him in weeks. "Specs, how are you?" she said standing to greet him.
He gave her a light hug and kiss on the cheek, "Not bad. Mornin' Mr. Pulitzer."
Pulitzer only nodded, "Can I help you?" He was ready to throw the boy out on the street. He didn't look as filthy as some of the other newsies but you could tell he was poor. He also remembered the boy from the newspaper article about the newsies. He'd been standing right behind Jack.
"As I'm sure you know by now I am askin' the court for emancipation." Brooke said, "Jack sent Specs here to keep an eye on me and get my lawyer if I asked."
"You can't be serious," Pulitzer was shocked.
"More serious than ever. I'se not goin' ta let you or Jonathan control my life any longer, and I most certainly will not marry Daniel Taylor or give you my father's company. I have a lawyer who can begin getting a hearing this afternoon. The servants already know Specs and my lawyer are able to visit me at all times."
"Very well," Pulitzer looked the boy over again. He was scrawny and weak looking, though extremely tall. Poor boy must have lived there his whole life he thought. "Mr. um, Specs? My lawyer will be here shortly. I suggest you fetch Brooke's lawyer and send him over later this afternoon. Good day."
"I'll send Denton over," Specs promised his friend. He kissed her cheek once more and allowed a servant to lead him outside. As he walked down the stairs he noticed two men coming up. The one farther away was a boy about his age in high-class clothing, Daniel Taylor. As he passed them he ran into the older man.
"Watch where you're going, boy!" the man yelled at him.
Specs froze for a second and then began walking away more quickly than before. He'd gotten a glimpse of the man's face and his voice had almost given Specs a heart attack. His father was Pulitzer's lawyer. He ran to Tibby's where the others were waiting for him. Everyone was shocked as Specs had been when they found out who her uncle was.
"That's why she wasn't here with Spot during the strike," David realized.
They found Denton and began compiling ideas for court. Racetrack and David were sent to Brooklyn to round up some of Spot's gang, and fill Spot in on what happened.
* * *
"W'es need ta see Spot." Racetrack told the first Brooklyn newsie he saw on the dock, "Do you know where he is?"
"The loft. Playing poker." Was all he said.
David and Racetrack both made a mad dash toward the building and climbed the ladder inside. They reached the top to fine Spot playing poker with Roman, Royal, and Swinger. Spot looked up, most likely expecting to see some of his own newsies. When he saw Race and David he knew something was wrong. "Where is she?"
"Mitchell and the Delancy's caught her an' brought her to his house," Race told him, "I swear ta God I saw it with me own eyes."
"Does she have a lawyer and everything?" Spot had known her plan for a long time and wanted to get right down to business on this subject.
"Yeah, but Denton says we need some Brooklyn newsies to come up to the court." David told him, "Can you round up a group of them in an hour?"
"Yeah, Lockpick, call a meeting now!" A newsie sitting by the door was up and gone in a flash. Twenty minutes later they walked downstairs to find the dock crowded with Brooklyn newsies.
"I'd say, pick your best and leave some here," Race said, "You guys might be in Manhattan for a while."
"Alright," Spot began to make a mental list. "If I call your name come up here," He told them, "Hotshot got caught and we need some a us to go help her in court. Understood?" Only nods were the reply
"Pickpocket, Roman, Royal, Swinger, Wiser, Scruff, Ace, Cover, Caps, Aqua, Scorpion, Virgo, Libra, and Starburst. You're coming to Manhattan 'cept Scorpion. Can you stay and lead while I'se gone?"
Scorpion nodded, "I can handle 'em."
"See you in a week or two," With that Spot led the large group through the streets. They arrived at a large building and he stopped them and turned to Race and Dave, "One more guy, c'mon in."
"Who lives here?" Race asked.
"Rebel," Spot said the name with great respect, "He'll wanna know about this." He knocked on an apartment door. It opened to reveal and older and wiser looking Rebel.
"Heya Spottie," he allowed the three of them to enter the room.
"I'se sorry to say I'se here on business matters."
"I kinda figured when I saw a dozen newsies gatherin' outside me building."
"Dave, you can explain."
"Well," he stepped foreward nervously, like the first time he'd talked to Spot, "Hotshot got caught and her lawyer thinks we should get some of the Brooklyn newsies she used to sell with to come up to Manhattan and help defend her. Spot thought you could be of some help." He looked worried as Spot and Rebel exchanged a glance, sharing a secret.
"What is this Spot, some kinda walk-in-mouth?"
"Dat's exactly what I call him. So you in?"
He nodded, "I'll meet you guys downstairs in two minutes."
Spot shooed the two Manhattan newsies downstairs and followed Rebel into his room where he was packing. "You know she's gonna try it," he said, "The minute she gets emancipation or even 'fore that she'll reopen her dad's case. What're we gonna do when she does?"
"We's gonna keep our mouths shut jus' like las' time," Rebel said as he violently shoved a few items of clothing into his bag.
"But Reb, We know it was that otha guy who did it, not Hotshot's dad. We gotta help her. They'll believe you, Reb, you's a respected adult now."
Rebel suddenly turned and grabbed Spot by the coller. He slammed Spot hard into the wall, "It ain't any a our business, alright. We weren't even supposed to be there. You an' me escaped from the refuge. They can still punish us for that. You can only get sent to the refuge for a week and your boys'll hide you 'till they stop lookin', but me, I can lose my job and get thrown in prison. We's newsies Spot. The bulls will never believe us and I'd kill someone 'fore I go back to jail, 'specially because a something I wasn't supposed to see. I don' care, all I wanna do is keep me job and me new life, so we's gonna keep our mouths shut!" As if to emphasize the point he shoved Spot hard into the wall again, "Understood!"
"Yes." As Rebel released the younger boy Spot slid down the wall so he was sitting on the floor. Rebel had never hit him the entire time he'd been a newsie, except a few occasions, and had only spoken that harshly to him right after the 'incident' as they called it. It unnerved him that Rebel had changed, and he found himself almost scared of the older boy in front of him. He glanced at Rebel, who was packing the last of his things. He seemed to be trying to keep himself from shaking. He kept the traditional blank face on as he came over to Spot, "I'se sorry." He helped the younger boy stand. Spot was somewhat confused; Rebel was the only Brooklyn newsie who never used the blank face. The only times he ever used it were when he was trying not to cry or scared senseless. It almost comforted him to know he wasn't alone.
Minutes later the two were out on the street walking to Manhattan with the other newsies. Rebel allowed Spot to take over the role of leader even though he was older. He was glad to see that Spot was a strict but fair leader, similar to himself. Any arguments that started were immediately and fairly ended. Thanks to Racetrack Rebel got a demonstration of Spot's improved leadership abilities.
Before they reached the bridge there was an explosion of noise from the back of the group. Even after the entire group stopped the yelling did not. Spot walked to the back of the group to find Racetrack standing in front of Roman, one of the most threatening looking Brooklyn newsies. He was practically shaking with anger and yelled, "Take it back now!"
"No! I don't take ordas from you!"
"Oh yeah I forgot, scabs don't take ordas from nobody but the officers," At this everyone gasped. To call any normal newsie, especially in New York, a scab was one of the biggest insults.
Just as the two began to charge at each other Spot stepped in. He grabbed Racetrack by the back of his collar and put a hand up, motioning for Roman to stop. "What is goin' on here? Racetrack?" He turned to the shorter newsie first.
"He called me a midget an' I told him ta take it back." Race plainly stated trying to pull out of Spot's grip.
"Well you called me a scab," Roman shot back, "An' you is real short."
"Roman, we are goin' to Manhattan for a few weeks, possibly more. You need to show these boys the same respect you show otha Brooklyn newsies. Watch the insults."
"Sorry Race," Roman said. Race only nodded in reply.
Spot then turned to Race, "He doesn't mean half of what he says so ignore his insults. He could beat you wit' one arm tied behind his back. Now go walk wit' Dave." When each of them stared at him he gave them the superior glare he was famous for.
The look made Rebel smile. When one of his newsies had brought Spot to the pier he'd looked at Rebel with the exact same glare. It demanded respect and threatened extreme punishments. Spot had only been four or five at the time but the glare had gotten Rebel's attention. He'd taken Spot under his wing and taught him everything he knew so he'd be able to be a good leader after Rebel left.
The rest of the trip was uneventful and they reached the Manhattan lodging house shortly before dark. Denton was still at Pulitzer's mansion but Jack got them all bunks in the main bunkroom. There was plenty of room if you moved the nonimpotant newsies (Not on main cast list) to other rooms. Denton came back at seven to find a room full of eager newsies and Sarah.
"They aren't going let her go on her own so we're going to court." He took the chair that was vacated by Mush. "They're not very busy at the moment so the hearing is on Monday morning at 9am, that's two days from now. If you're going to come there will be a sheet outside for you to sign in. Use your real names. I need all of you to give me them now." He handed Jack a piece of paper that already had Kid Blinks name on it. Jack hesitated, unsure of what to write. "Just put Jack Kelly," Denton told him, "I know you boys don't like using your real names but they need proper names to be used. How is Kid Blink?"
"Bad," Bumlets said. He'd visited the fellow newsie just an hour before, "He had four attacks before they kicked me out an' he could barely sit up."
Denton nodded, "Back to the case. Pulitzer's lawyer is Nathaniel Edwards. He's one of the best lawyers in New York, but there are enough of you that I feel we actually have a chance. Hotshot wants as many of you there as possible and if you go Kloppman is giving you free board that night. I'm only allowing the newsies in this room to go so if anyone else needs to be there get them to sign this sheet. Anything else?"
"How is she?"
Denton looked at Specs, "We confirmed that her stepfather is alive and she's scared about having to face him again, but she is as good a lawyer as her father so she has a few tricks up her sleeve."
As the rest of the boys filled out their newsie names and real ones on the sheet Denton explained some of the court proceedings. When he left an hour later they all knew there was a possibility that they could be put on the stand. Race and Spot had been warned not to be the smart asses they had been the last time they'd stood before a judge. All of them knew to keep out of trouble and keep an eye on Kid Blink for Hotshot. A little after eight a few newsies started small poker games around the room. Specs took the opportunity to sneak out the fire escape. He'd be back before anyone knew he was gone.
* * *
Hotshot sat in the empty office waiting for the man whom she was being forced to see. It had been bad enough that she'd seen Pulitzer and Daniel that morning but having to see Jonathan after all the years she'd thought he was dead was almost too much. She was barely able to resist the urge to jump out of her chair when the door opened. She turned her head and stared at him with the emotionless stare that classified Brooklyn newsies.
Jonathan looked different but she knew his attitude probably hadn't changed. His blondish hair was beginning to gray like his brother's, and he wore a pair of thin oval glasses. His muscular frame had become thinner and his skin stretched gauntly over his bones. The thing that stuck out most, however, was the long jagged scar that ran across his face. She kept her voice as emotionless as her eyes when she spoke, "Jonathan."
He slapped her across the face before she could say anything else, "How dare you run off after that accident! How dare you run from your uncle! You could have had the perfect easy life here! Why on earth did you run off to be a…" He spat the last word like it was poison, "newsie!"
"Betta than bein' 'round people like you" she shot back.
Out of nowhere there was a whip in his hand. It struck her back once and she only inwardly winced. Had she had her knife on her she would have had it out and slashed his face so fast he wouldn't have known what hit him. He threw the whip down on the desk. "Don't think you can get out of here that easily. Think of this as a little reminder of what happens when you disobey me." He began to walk to the door and she only stared after him from the place where she was standing.
"Tell me one thing; is my brother alive?"
He glanced over his shoulder at her and slammed the door behind him. Rosa brought her back to her room a few minutes later. Rosa wanted to get water to clean up her fresh cut but Brooke sent her away. The knock on the window a few minutes later was almost ignored but Brooke was pretty sure she knew who it was. She opened the window and let Specs in, throwing her arms around him as soon as the window was closed. "He's here Specs. I saw him."
"Yeah, Denton told us at the lodging house. Spot went dead white."
Hotshot almost laughed hearing it. She pulled away from him and walked to her bed. Specs almost choked when he saw her back.
"What happened? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine he just whipped me."
"And hit your face too," Specs observed, "Hotshot, saying he whipped you is about the equivalent of Les Jacob's sayin' he got beaten up by the Delancy' bruthas."
"I'll live. It's not like it's the first time or anything. I barely feel it anymore. How's Blink?" She tried to change the subject.
"He's doin' worse than he was the other day," Specs admitted, "Maybe the judge'll let you see him." He saw the pained look on her face.
"I need a favor," she said.
"Name it."
"Under my mattress back at the lodging house there's a bunch of my stuff and a bag under the bed. Pack it up and bring it to me tomorrow."
"Alright,"
"One more thing. There's a knife with a black hilt."
"What about it?"
"Don't bring that. Keep it with you or ask Kloppman to keep it until I come back. Just don't ever bring it here."
"Why not?"
"I usually carry it with me."
"So?"
"If I have it and I see Jonathan," she took a deep breath, "I might kill him." She allowed Specs to pull her into his arms.
"If I can't get here tomorrow I'll send it with Denton."
"Okay, try to bring it if you can. I've got another week before court stats so I could use the entertainment."
"Alright," he kissed her forehead as he climbed up onto the windowsill, "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Night Specs," she called out after him.
"Night," a voice came from the ground.
A/N: Well another chapter done. Hope it's getting interesting for anyone who's reading it. It's definitely getting harder to write. I just wish more people would read it and review (HintHint) Anyway I'm trying to get chapters up faster but I've been deprived of the Internet until I bring my Spanish grade up. TTYL!