Past Secrets and Present Times
Chapter 18
By Megan
The next morning Jack woke her up, "Hey Hotshot, C'mon we gotta leave in half an hour."
"What?" she sat up looking around.
"What's wrong wit' you. Usually you's the first one awake."
"I ain't been sleepin' good lately."
"Well the newsies will exhaust you after court today. Now get out of bed and get ready to go."
She threw a pillow at him as he left the room and mumbled as she pulled out some clean clothes. She grabbed a piece of bread on her way through the kitchen. A carriage picked them up and went to the courthouse. Denton was questioning the newsies now so Hotshot could relax a little. She grabbed Bumlets by the front of his shirt and dragged him up to the table with her.
"How's Kid Blink?" She asked him because it was his job to go to the hospital two or three times a day to find out if there was any change in their friend's condition.
He shook his head, "No change," he said.
She slumped into her seat in an exhausted manner.
"Well, except for the fact that he was stirring this morning, real early like t'ree or four, and he mumbled somethin' last night."
Her eyes went wide with excitement and then narrowed at him, "Are you tryin' ta gimme a heart attack or sumthin'?"
"Made ya feel better, didn't it?"
"I swear that if I didn't hafta behave durin' the trial I'd soak ya right now."
"Tell you what then. If I hear anything else you'll be the first person I tell." He unintentionally ran his thumb over his nose, remembering the bloody nose he'd gotten for sneaking up on her during her first few weeks in Manhattan.
She shook her head, watching him, "What about Specs? Does he want someone else to take his place yet?"
"No, he doesn't mind being there. Did you know his dad visited him the other day?"
"His dad? The lawyer? What happened?"
"Specs said if he hadn't been in a hospital he woulda screamed for him to get out. His dad and him just watched each other for a minute. Didn't tell me what they talked about but he told me he wanted you to drop by this afternoon if you weren't busy."
She nodded and her friend seized the opportunity and returned to his seat. She was going to turn around and talk to some of the other guys but the judge entered the room.
That day Denton questioned three of the Brooklyn newsies; Roman, Swinger, and Caps. He also questioned both of the Delancy's and Rosa. The only one who gave Edwards anything he could use against her were the Delancy's.
When the judge dismissed them she turned to Denton, "Do I have anything to do this afternoon?" She asked the question knowing there were probably some legal issues they needed to look over.
Denton looked toward the door where a dozen or so newsies were waiting. "Get out of here. I don't want to see you until tomorrow."
"Thanks Denton!" she ran off to join them. She sold with them for two hours and then split from the group and ran to the hospital. Specs was entertaining himself with a deck of cards in Kid Blink's room.
"So how is he?"
The sound of her voice caused Specs to jump and he dropped the cards that were in his hand. She scooped them up and placed them on the table with the rest of the deck, "Any change?"
"He stirred a few times but no, he ain't woken up." Specs answered what he knew she wanted to ask. She took a seat and watched the boy in the bed. Specs watched as her eyes slowly drifted to him. He sighed, "I suppose Bumlets can't keep his mouth shut and told you about me dad visiting."
"Yeah, what'd you two talk about?"
"I just sat and listened. He talked about how much mum and the girls want me to come home and how inconvenient it was that I was part of this case. He went off on some random topics and said sumthin' 'bout you. I swear I heard Daniel say the same thing the first week we was in your house. I told him if he was gonna be in here he had to respect my friends. He just told me he wished I'd come home and end everyone's suffering. I asked him to get out."
"And he just left?" she sat back in her chair, skeptical.
"He walked to the door and stopped. It was so weird; he just turns and says 'I hope your friend pulls through'. The way he said it was plausible too. I'se been sittin' 'round all day just thinkin' 'bout everything he said."
"Specs, do you want someone else to take over for you here. I mean, you've been here since Friday."
"No," he insisted, "no, I wanna be here when he wakes up." He gripped a strangely shaped piece of fabric in his fist.
"Specs, what'sat?"
"His eye patch," Specs smoothed it out on the table between him and Kid Blink's bed.
Hotshot looked over at Kid Blink; she'd never seen him without his patch before. His right eye looked normal, but his left one was different. It was slightly bluish in color, like a permanent black eye, and showed scarring from stitches. Bits of white and red also flecked certain areas. She took a deep breath, thinking of all the times she'd heard people saying Kid Blink's eye patch was just to sell more papes. "What happened to 'im?" she asked Specs.
Specs shuddered, "The short version is that his dad beat him an' his sista an' brudah. His siblings are with a family friend up in Massachusetts or New Hampshire and he sends them the money he makes. His dad came home drunk one night and hit him in the eye with a very, very hot fire poker. It did permanent damage; his eye's sealed shut. So he wears an eye patch to cover it up. Came into the lodging house a few months afta me wit' the eye showin'. Ambition an' Jack made sure he was ok, then Needles made him the patch. One guy made fun a him. We were just callin' him 'Kid' at this point so the guy starts makin' a joke 'bout his patch, callin' him a pickpocket, sorta like a pirate. Kid was on him in the Blink of an eye so I came up wit' Kid Blink."
"Do people still call him a pirate?"
"Yeah, we get on his case sometimes, he just laughs along wit' us. But never call him a pickpocket."
"I wouldn't. That's Race's job anyway. You came up with his name?"
"Yeah, I dunno. It jus' came ta me. He liked it and the other guys that're here now liked it so it stuck."
She picked up his hand and stared at him for a minute. A smile crossed her face and she laughed. "I cant' figure it out. Every single one a you looks like an innocent little kid when you sleep."
"What're you talkin' about. I am always innocent."
"If you're innocent then I'm a Delancy," she said shaking her head, "I'm serious Specs. He looks real innocent when he sleeps, and years younger."
"He's seventeen," Specs commented.
"She shrugged, "I woulda guessed sixteen. Right now, he looks like he's thirteen or fourteen. Weird."
She left the hospital that day, walking alone toward the other end of the district. Specs had advised her to wait for one of the other newsies, but as always, she ignored his advice. She was close to halfway back when the arm dodged around her neck in a Brooklyn-style fighting method. She would have fought, except for the fact that the hand held a very sharp knife.
"If that's you Mitchell," she warned, "Half the Brooklyn an' Manhattan newsies are in the lodging' house 'cross the square." He loosened his hold enough to give her the advantage she needed. With one hand she gripped his wrist, causing him to drop the knife. Using the other she propelled him over her shoulder. In one swift motion she'd scooped the knife up and had the tip against his throat. It was then that she got her first look at his face. "Jerk!" she yelled standing and pitching the knife to the ground. He got up and followed her as she stormed off.
"Hey, you know I'se sorry. I didn't mean any harm by it. Jus' wanted to see if you still had it in you to be considered a Brooklyn newsie." He apologized.
"Spot ain't kicked me out, has he!" she spat back.
"No. I said I was sorry. Where were you comin' from jus' now?"
"The hospital," she slowed her pace, "I was visiting Kid Blink."
"He's a nice kid?"
"Yes, the first one I met here."
"So what'd you and Dad talk 'bout the other day?"
She turned to her brother, "What happened since he got put in jail. They didn't tell him about mum, an' the twins. Not a single word about the accident."
"Lemme come next time, will you. I'd like to see him."
"Sure Andres. C'mon in. Specs ain't stayin' in your room no more so you can have it back."
Since her brother was both smart and a good card player he fit in perfectly with David and Race. That left Hotshot free to do whatever she wanted all afternoon. Unfortunately, it didn't help her worry any less about the case and she slept horribly that night.
The next morning didn't make her feel much better. She overslept again and Daniel made sure to remind her of the afternoon's arrangements. When Andres convinced her to tell him where she was going he insisted on coming along. She refused because he wasn't even allowed in the courtroom. Edwards had convinced the judge that her brother would bring false information to the case.
"You look like you could use a few more hours a sleep," Jack said after she snapped at Mush.
"You have no idea," she mumbled, collapsing into her chair, "I think I got 'bout an hour a sleep last night."
"You should come back to the lodging house tonight," Mush suggested.
"Can't. The court don't allow it and I hafta go ta Pulitzer's this aftanoon so I can't even go out sellin'."
"Why you goin' ta Pulitzer's?" Mush asked.
Before she could say anything Jack spoke for her, "'Cause I stayed at her mansion for a night an' she brought me to visit me dad."
She nodded, confirming it.
"You didn't hafta let me do any a those things!"
"An' you didn't hafta let me stay at the lodging house. Exactly how many times did ya tell me 'Sumtimes you's more trouble than you's worth.' while I was there?"
"I say that 'bout everybody." He argued.
"But sometimes ya kick 'em out," Mush supplied, recieving a look from Jack for his comment, "What? It's true!"
"Tell you what," she ended their argument before it could get any bigger, "I'll come to the lodging house for a night this weekend. Denton an' Rosa won't ever know. I'll just tell her I'se sellin' early and sneak out late."
"I'se gonna hold ya to that," came the threat as she turned around. She smiled through the day's proceedings after hearing that comment. She was already sure that if she had to put up with Jonathan and Joe all afternoon she'd be wishing the whole time that she was in the lodging house.
When the judge ended the questioning for the day many of the newsies stopped on the front steps of the courthouse. "Don't try to start trouble," Denton instructed her as he walked her outside, "you only need to stay until five thirty." Other words of comfort and advice flooded toward her as she walked down and got into the Pulitzer's coach. Joseph Pulitzer, Edwards, Daniel Taylor, and Mr. Conlon were the only other people in the carriage. She'd known most of them would be there, but fixed Mr. Conlon with a deadly gaze until the carriage pulled away from the curb.
"Now, let's talk about this," Pulitzer took a paper from Mr. Edwards. "You know that articles have been published about this case in many papers, including my own."
She glanced at the familiar article with a nod; Race had given her one of his extra papes a few days before without seeing the article. "So."
"I'll tell you what I told your friend Jack during the strike; I tell this city how to think, and I tell them how to vote."
"I'm aware of that."
"The people in this city include Judge Monahan. I can easily give him reason to give me custody." The carriage stopped in front of his house.
"You could," she agreed, "but as you said before Joe, other papers are covering this too, and I know many of them would love to put you out of business. It all depends on which papers get to the judge. I have friends who can make sure the judge doesn't read the World during the battle Joe. You forget so easily that you don't have all the power anymore." She climbed out of the carriage and walked into the house with many of them staring after her for a moment before following.
She spent until three in Pulitzer's office listening to the men talk about the court battle and how well off they were. They even spoke of things for her father's case. Because she was a girl they figured she wouldn't know how to use what they said against them. When Pulitzer or Daniel addressed her directly she replied, but mostly kept silent and listened. Until four she was forced to listen to Daniel talk of how great their life would be once they were married.
"Your father wishes to see you," Joseph Pulitzer interrupted Daniel's description of their house. He motioned to Jonathan's office.
"He's not my father," she hissed, "If I were related to scum like you I'd have run away long ago and gotten far away from New York." She walked into the office knowing she was leaving the old man steaming behind her.
She sat down at the desk in Jonathan's office watching him. He stood at the window behind his desk, looking out at the road below. "So Jonathan," she said, "How's Andres? Oh wait, he wasn't in the attic last time they checked." She used the helpful bit of information she'd received from Spot.
The older man turned around and slapped her but she was prepared for it and turned her head enough to avoid most of the pain, "He is still in my custody and must be returned."
"He's almost twenty-one, in case you forgot. He's been able to leave for three years. You'll be lucky if he doesn't press charges."
"The police can take him from that lodging house with an order from your uncle." He warned.
"Which one?" she asked, "He's got a lot of friends. He could be in any lodging house in New York in less than an hour."
She wasn't prepared when he pushed her chair. The light piece of furniture tipped and sent her sailing to the floor. She should have jumped up quickly, but paused giving him enough time to move beside her. A few kicks in the ribs kept her there. "You and you brother are both insolent little brats." He spat on the floor beside her, "I know very well that you went to your father and I will make sure you do not do so again. Not only will he remain in jail but you will remain in this household after the trial."
She kept her eyes squeezed shut as he stalked to the other side of the room. She finally took the chance of opening them just in time to feel the familiar sting of the whip across her back. She bit her lip, stifling the cry, and balled her hands into fists. Warm blood was seeping through her shirts and spreading across her back. When Jonathan was content with her beating he placed his weapon back in its hiding place and left the room. Hotshot remained on the floor for a moment, hissing in pain, and carefully pushed herself up. She licked her lip where she'd drawn blood and examined the scratches on her hand quickly. When she dared to look up at the clock she almost smiled. It was past five thirty so she could leave. She met Pulitzer on her way to the front door.
"Just where do you think you're going?" he asked.
"Home," she hissed at him, "I only had ta stay 'til five thirty, an' it's almost six."
"Would you like to stay for dinner?" he offered. Obviously there was more he wanted to discuss.
"Get outta me way old man!" she pushed past him and slammed the door behind her. Once outside she began running down the street. Not only did this bring more blood to the lashes across her back, but it also caused terrible pain. Since no one was around to hear her she cried out. She stopped at the gate and then began walking, not in the direction of her house but toward the lodging house. Walking meant it took her longer than usual to get there. She didn't want to deal with Kloppman fussing over her so she climbed up the fire escape, hoping most of the newsies would be out selling or downstairs. She groaned seeing the room crowded with her friends, from both Brooklyn and Manhattan, but reluctantly knocked on the window.
Skittery was the only one who heard it, as the others were all intently watching a card game between Race, Royal, and Ace. He turned and walked over to the window and opened the window. "Whatcha doin' here?" he whispered getting the idea she didn't want everyone's attention at the moment.
"Help me," she said motioning that she needed help getting to the floor.
Skittery was concerned but didn't question her. He held one of her arms and helped her climb down from the window. He walked with her to one of the bunks and saw the blood that soaked her shirt as she sat down. "What the-" he stopped himself mid sentence, "Who ya want me to get?"
"Jack, Snoddy, Wiser, an' Roman. An' Skit, please don't draw a lot of attention to me."
"Spot? Blackjack?"
"I'll tell you when to get them." She wasn't ready to see either of them just yet.
Skittery scurried into the crowd and returned with the newsies she'd requested a few minutes later. As soon as Jack saw the blood he turned to call Spot over.
She grabbed the front of his shirt, "Not yet." It was more of a strained plea than a command.
The other three looked at her back and retrieved some medicine from downstairs to clean the lashes up. Roman squeezed her hand as the other two cleaned each cut with the burning liquid. "Skittery, go get them," she said when they were halfway done. Skittery knew who she was and darted off into the crowd again. Her brother came willingly and was pretty sure he knew what had happened. Spot was lecturing Skittery about dragging him away from the game. When he saw Hotshot his face paled and he stopped dead in his tracks. "Nice to know you care," she said as Wiser began bandaging her back.
"Who?"
"Spot, you can't do anything so don't bother." She hissed in pain and squeezed Roman's hand as Snoddy's hand accidentally brushed over one of the cuts. "Andres, they know youse out so don't go near the Pulitzer place or the courthouse."
"Shouldn't you go ta the hospital or sumthin'?" Spot questioned.
"Spottie," she used the nickname he hated. She was one of the few who could get away with addressing him with it, "They're not as bad as they look. He's done worse before. If I clean an' bandage 'em they'll heal in a week or so."
He stared at her for a moment, before turning away and sitting down.
"It wasn't bad as usual?" Her brother made sure she wasn't lying.
"No, it barely broke the skin. The old man's outta practice."
"Just the same, maybe you should stay here tonight." Jack suggested it and obviously the others agreed with him because they voiced their opinions.
"I can't," she said, "and you know it. If I don't turn up by curfew Pulitzer'll have the bulls here in less than an hour. I'll get dragged back to that God-awful house."
Skittery found some extra shirts that would fit her in storage and brought them up to the bunkroom. She changed into them and came out to find the guys saving her seat. It was around then that a few of the newsies began noticing that she was there. Those who knew where she had been asked her how it was. She told them everything had gone fine and that she had gotten out of there as soon as she was allowed, a lie. It was better that she not involve more people than she needed to.
The game ended with Racetrack being victorious, but just barely. He and David picked up anything they brought, and Racetrack packed up his winnings. Hotshot pulled Bumlets along with her when the group left. He was going to visit Specs and Kid Blink before curfew and she needed him to tell specs something. "Not tonight, Friday night, get someone else to go to the hospital and make him take the night off. He needs to take a full twenty four hours away from that place or he'll go insane."
"Alright," Bumlets was already thinking of whom he would stick in the hospital in Specs' place, "How's your back?"
"How'd ya know?" she looked at him.
"I looked over when Skittery came rushin' through ta get Jack. Plus there's some blood showin' on that shirt." He nodded toward the bundle of clothing in her arms. "So am I dismissed?"
She nodded, "Get outta here." As he turned in the direction of the hospital she increased her speed slightly to catch up with Race and David.
The next day Spot, and Jack forced her to show Denton her new cuts. He told her not to wash her bloodied clothes because they could be used for evidence. She agreed and moved into a more comfortable position on the bench. While the scratches no longer hurt her back was sore.
Kloppman was the main person who was being questioned that day and none of the newsies were sure what to think of the old man testifying. He could help them, but then, he had also done some things over the past few years that could hurt the defense.
"Mr. Kloppman," Denton began, "You are the caretaker of the newsboys lodging house in Manhattan, correct?"
"That's correct."
"Do you know all the newsies that live in your lodging house, Sir?"
"Yes I do. I know every single newsie in the place. They bring all the new newsies to me to make sure I meet 'em and start a record on them."
"So you knew Miss Lynn?"
"I knew her as Hotshot, but yes, I knew her."
"Why did you let her stay? I mean she was a girl and there was a newsgirls lodging house just down the street."
"It was important to Jack and the other boys that she stay with them and I don't mind as long as they don't."
"Did she cause as much trouble as the other boys?"
"No Mr. Denton, she barely caused any. The only things she did were give a few black eyes and bloody noses. And she beat 'em all at cards, coulda just taken their paychecks, she beat 'em so much."
"Ugh, don' remind me Kloppman," Race muttered from the seat behind Hotshot.
"What about outside the lodging house?"
"Well she did get beat up once, but it wasn't 'cause she caused trouble. She ain't never been in the refuge either so I say she ain't been in trouble that I know of."
"Thank you, Mr. Kloppman." Denton returned to his seat and Mr. Edwards stood.
"Mr. Kloppman, are girls allowed in the newsboys lodging house? If the boys have girlfriends or such."
"Their girlfriends are allowed downstairs, but they can't go up to the bunkrooms," he said, "But not a lot of girls come to the lodging house."
"Are there any other rules at the lodging house?"
"Yes. They have to pay two bits a night to stay there. Curfew is at ten. No girls upstairs. New newsies should be brought to me. Things like that."
"Do the newsies follow these rules?"
"Most of the time. Sometimes they come in late or need to stay one or two nights for free."
"Now, you let Miss Lynn stay even though she was a girl, am I correct?"
"Yessir."
"Why?"
"Because she'd been a newsie before and the boys insisted that she stay with us."
"And she was allowed in the boys' bunkroom?"
"I offered her a single room," Kloppman said, "But she'd been sharing a bunkroom with guys for about ten years so I let her. She knew the rules and didn't really seem to be dating any of the guys. She helped break up a few arguments too."
"A few months ago didn't detective Joshua Kline come to your establishment and ask if Brooke Lynn was staying there?"
"Yes he did."
"Then why did you tell him she wasn't? I thought all the newsies had to sign in nightly?"
'"They do sign in but most of them use their nicknames. Miss Lynn signed in as Hotshot every night."
"What about the other boys?"
"What about them?"
"Did any of them ever cause trouble?"
"Of course. There were plenty of fights and arguments but the most they usually got hurt was a black eye."
"What about outside the lodging house? Were any of them ever sent to the refuge?"
"Most of them have been in the refuge once or twice," Kloppman said, "A few of them heard about my lodging house while they were in the refuge and came when they got out."
"Did you ever bail any of them out?"
"Yes. The other boys would tell me why someone got arrested and if it was unfair I would pay the fine. None of the boys have been there since the strike ended though."
"Ahh yes, the strike. Which of the boys were sent to the refuge during the strike? You know the night of the rally."
"Umm, lemme think for a minute." The old man paused to remember the night. "Jack, Spot, Racetrack, Kid Blink, Mush, Bumlets, Pie Eater, Swifty, Itey, Snitch, Jake, Boots, Snipeshooter, Snoddy, Skittery, Dutchy, and Specs. Crutchy was already in the refuge and the Jacobs' don't live in the lodging house. David came by before going home and told me they'd all been arrested."
"So your lodging house was empty that night?"
"Yes sir."
"Did the newsies pay you during the strike? And did you reprimand them for getting into trouble?"
"No, I let them stay for free and I figured being in the refuge for a night was punishment enough."
"No further questions Your Honor."
After court the newsies gathered around Hotshot outside. "Don't sell the judge any copies of the World," she said, "all that's in it are his one-sided comments about the case." Many of them nodded and they spent the afternoon selling.
The next day Medda was called to the stand.
"She stayed in your establishment for a few nights, right Medda?" Denton asked.
"Yes she did."
"Did you ever let the boys stay in your establishment before?"
"Yes, many of them stayed there when the police were after them."
"Did you like Miss Lynn? Obviously you care about the boys but how do you feel towards her?"
"I treat her like I treat any other newsie. In some ways I have to admit that I like her better. When she stayed with me I thought that she was somewhat like me."
"Medda, did the police come to the theater looking for her?"
"No, they didn't think to look there."
"Miss Larkson," Edwards asked, "If the detectives had come to the theater what would you have told them?"
"That she wasn't there." Medda stated.
"And risk going to jail?"
"Yes, she doesn't deserve to be going through something like this."
"Did you ever reprimand her?"
"I had to tell her to stay inside and remind her that no boys were allowed after curfew."
"Did she have any visitors?"
"Yes. Miss Jacobs visited the second night and Specs, or Matthew Edwards was there the first night."
Edwards cringed, "What did they do with her?"
"She and Sarah played cards and talked in the kitchen. Specs was playing poker with her in her bedroom when I found them."
Hotshot glared behind her when a few whispers sped through the newsies, mostly at Racetrack. The quiet murmur was also spreading through the other half of the courtroom like fire.
"Order," the judge called and the room fell silent.
"No further questions Your Honor," Edwards said turning back to his seat. He smiled at Hotshot and she just glared at him. They were released less than an hour later. Hotshot escaped to the steps with the other newsies before any reporters could see her.
"So was it Strip Poker?"
She turned to find Snoddy standing behind her, grinning widely.
"Well, Was it?"
"Racetrack!" she yelled turning. The shorter Italian froze and looked at her. As she took one step toward him he began to race through the crowd of newsies. She took off after him. "I swear Race, when I catch you I'm gonna kill you!"