Past Secrets and Present Times
Chapter 21
By Megan
She found herself sitting in Denton's apartment far too early the next morning. She was using her arms as a pillow while he made coffee for himself as well as Dave and Race. She knew Dave was needed but wasn't sure why Race had insisted on coming. She sat up as Denton placed a mug of coffee in front of her. She took a small, hesitant sip and placed it back on the table.
"Judge Monahan is beginning your father's trial tomorrow morning," Denton spoke, leafing through the papers in front of him. "That means you'll have about a week off from your trial."
She sighed at the thought and stretched, leaning back in her chair.
"You have witnesses, right?" Denton asked.
"A course," she smiled.
"Credible witnesses?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Spot an' Reb are credible witnesses Denton. They were really there."
Denton scribbled their names onto a document and sent Race out the door to go look for the pair. He looked up to see Hotshot's scrutinizing glare upon his face. "What is it?" he asked, knowing something was on the young girls mind.
"Do I hafta be there?"
"Only the day they're going to question you," Denton said, "And I'll only ask you the questions they asked the first time and anything else that will help your case. Spot and Rebel don't need you to be there. Spot's been in that courtroom enough to know how to behave and Rebel, well, he's old enough to know better."
"You want Spot to behave?" Dave smiled, "Maybe Hotshot should be there to keep 'im in line."
"Ya wanna rethink that last line, Mouth?" a voice asked from the doorway. The door had been opened noiselessly and there stood the Brooklyn leader.
Hotshot couldn't help laughing at the look on David's face. He looked scared out of his mind. "Oh, be nice Spot," she said. He still had a slightly swelled black eye but it would look normal again soon. She took another sip of her coffee and offered Rebel and Spot a cup.
The morning was spent going over information for both cases. Hotshot was glued to the information once she woke up and David was just as enthusiastic. Spot and Rebel wanted to know exactly what they had to do so their attention was on only the cases. Race's attention, as always, tended to wander. He walked around the room and looked at Denton's photography equipment and writing supplies. Eventually he climbed out the window to join some of his friends who were selling nearby.
"Umm… Denton?" Spot asked as they were wrapping up. "If her dad gets outta jail don't that mean she doesn't hafta finish her trial 'cause he can take legal custody of her."
Denton sighed, "I wish it were that simple Spot. It doesn't matter that he's released. The judge may see him as an unfit parent, and even if the judge likes him there's a state law."
"Explain…" Rebel prompted.
"The law states that any parent that spends over ten years in the state refuge may not take custody of his/her children once they are released. Brooke,"
She winced at hearing her name and whined, "Denton."
"Sorry, Hotshot can live with him if she receives emancipation because she officially has custody of herself and is allowed to make her own decision."
"What about his business?" David asked.
"He will regain ownership of that if he is freed because that will mean Jonathan Pulitzer and Mr. Conlon will be in jail." Spot and Rebel seemed extremely comforted by this comment.
The four left the apartment a few minutes later and made their way to the hospital. The three boys made their way through Kid Blink's room first. He actually started a bit of an argument with Rebel and Spot took it upon himself to join the fight. Hotshot kicked them out when she began to get a headache.
Today Blink was wearing his patch as she sat down. He lay back on his mattress and stared at the ceiling. Silence passed between them for a few long seconds before Hotshot spoke, "Blink what's wrong?"
"You saw me yesterday," he sounded dismal.
"Blink," she smiled, "I see you every day."
"No." He ran a hand through his hair. It was obvious that whatever he was saying had a different meaning than what Hotshot thought, but she wasn't getting it. "I mean you saw me without me patch," he explained, "Youse must think-"
"Blink, there's nuthin' wrong wit' that."
"You don't think I'se a freak then?" he looked at her worriedly.
"Kid, Specs told me what happened," she said, "Of course I don't think youse a freak. I'se seen worse scars than that an' youse me friend. I wouldn't make fun a you for it." She remembered how Specs had told her some newsies made fun of Kid Blink when he'd first come to the lodging house.
They chatted for the remainder of the afternoon. Kid Blink actually won a few games of poker and Hotshot did not let him. Bumlets and Specs entered the room around dusk and found Hotshot sitting on Kid Blink's bed with a growing pile of coins and items on the sheet between them.
"Hey, ain't this Race's?" Bumlets asked, taking a pocket watch out of the pile and holding it up.
"Yeah, and thanks to me he'll get it back," Hotshot held up her cards and Blink groaned, collapsing back against his pillows.
"I swear you cheat." He accused.
"Well youse a pickpocket so we'se even." She grinned smugly at him and he laughed.
Kid Blink paid a small price for his fun. He began to cough up blood. A nurse who was at the doorway yelled for them to leave and ran to find a doctor. As the doctor entered the room they finally allowed themselves to be showed out. In the waiting room Hotshot handed Bumlets her winnings from the afternoon, minus Race's pocket watch anyway, with strict instructions. "Give this back to Blink."
"He'll be fine," the doctor told them as he left the room, "He's out cold right now but I guarantee you he is getting better."
"Thanks Doc," Specs said for them, "See you tomorrow Bumlets." The dark-haired newsie simply waved to them as they walked out the door. Then he retreated back to Kid Blink's bedside. Specs and Hotshot were at the same time walking across town. Unbeknown to all of them there were some newsies who were plotting something to leave their mark.
* * *
"Wick!" Mitchell yelled the name as he slammed the door behind him. The building was smaller than the Brooklyn newsies' lodging house, but it also held fewer boys. Mitchell was furious and finding the usually crowded lobby empty made him even madder. "Wick!" he yelled again, "Wick, where are you!?"
"What's up Mitchell?" The seventeen-year-old stuck his head out of an office doorway.
"I want the group down here, now!" He began calling out the names to be sure only that group came down, "Scratch, Stoney, Crack, Bones, Greedy, Spitfire, Pipes, Trouble, Tiner, Masks, and Moody."
"Sure, I'll get them," Wick took off up the stairs. Most of the newsies that had originally left Rebel's because Spot became leader and Hotshot was allowed to join had left years before. Mitchell was the only one who was still there, and the only one who hadn't gotten the fact that it wasn't worth it. Most of the 'rebels' there now were only there because they were scared of what Mitchell would do to them if they left. Scratch and Greedy were the only one's who actually agreed with Mitchell. He called the names in the bunkroom and the boys reported down to the meeting room.
Mitchell was watching them with the mad gleam in his eyes that almost everyone dreaded. In front of him there was an old newspaper with a picture on the front. When they were all seated he spoke, "This is how we get revenge on that little bitch."
The picture was of the Manhattan newsboys, and Spot, during the strike.
"Uh, Mitch?" Crack raised a hand, "How exactly is an old newspaper gonna help us?" He was silenced by a deadly glare from their leader.
"We're going to find three of these newsies and bring them to a certain spot. Then we'se gonna invite Hotshot for a little 'chat'. The actual event won't happen for a few weeks a course but we gotta start plannin' now."
"Which ones?" Scratch asked leaning over the paper.
"The one with specs," Mitchell said, "He's her best friend and they might be seein' eachotha. The brunette, not the blonde, and then two others from the paper. The one behind Jack on the left," He decided, "and the one between Jack and Racetrack." The boys nodded and began bouncing ideas off one another.
Mitchell, Scratch, and Greedy were coming up with most of the ideas. Wick was Mitchell's most trusted advisor and friend but he couldn't think at the moment. He was too shocked.
"What happens if she doesn't show up alone?" Wick asked when most of the plan was set.
"Then her friends are all dead," Mitchell said, "an' don't none a youse lay a finger on her, she's mine."
There was a rumor among the newsies that lived there, saying that Mitchell was mad. The glint in the older boy's eyes and the intense way he spoke convinced Wick that those rumors were true. He gulped, wishing he had never joined that gang. He noticed many others mirroring his actions. The only three to whom the action went unnoticed were the three who had convinced themselves that Hotshot needed to die.
* * *
Specs was still in Hotshot's room when she woke up the next morning. It was before dawn so the room was still dark. She silently rolled out of bed and got dressed. As she was going to the window she heard his voice, thick with sleep, behind her, "Hotshot, where are you goin'?"
"Selling." She was extremely happy that she was selling again. She was also planning a bit of fun.
"Wait for me," ha said.
"Then hurry up. I'll meet you outside." Without another word she slid down the fire escape.
Specs threw on his clothes and joined her. As they began the walk he asked a question that had been on his mind, "Why're we goin' so early?" As if to emphasis early he yawned.
She smiled a smile that all Brooklyn and most Manhattan newsies had learned to fear. Specs groaned and she just nodded. "The morning after I officially joined Brooklyn Spot threw me in the harbor 'cause I didn't get up. Race said he was out really late last night. He went to Harlem for something, I think. I'm wondering how much cold water I should pour in that bucket if he isn't up yet."
"He's gonna kill you," Specs mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face.
"No, he hasta get dressed and out first. By that time I'll be selling my papers." The rest of the run was interrupted only by the sounds of carriages and a few drunks leaving from a long night at a bar.
As they climbed through the bunkroom window they found all of the newsies awake and getting ready for work. Spot was laying asleep in his bunk. Specs grabbed Hotshot's arm and caught her eye with a warning, "I had nothing to do with this."
"Of course not." Her smile wasn't reassuring at all.
Specs collapsed on his bunk, which was currently the property of Pickpocket. The Brooklyn newsie laughed.
"Has she always been like that?" Specs asked.
"She's always been really daring but I think Manhattan has had a bad influence on 'er." He laughed.
"What time did he get in last night?" Hotshot asked Rebel. She wanted to be sure he wouldn't be awake enough to catch her.
"Four in the morning. You're safe, trust me." Everyone knew her plan and wanted to see the outcome.
Hotshot slowly approached the bunk. Everyone was watching but they still kept doing what they had been to get ready. "Spot," she whispered.
No response came from the Brooklyn leader, who lay on the bed looking innocent of any crime you could accuse him of.
"Spot, wake up," she poked his side lightly, "C'mon Spottie."
He rolled over a little to avoid the wake up call.
"Alright Brooklyn, you asked for it." She picked up the bucket of ice-cold water from the washroom and poured it over the sleeping form on the bed.
Instantly the bunkroom was full of motion. As the water hit Spot he shot up out of bed and hit his head on the bunk above his. The bucket flew across the floor in the direction of the door, which Kloppman was just now entering through. Hotshot all but flew out the window and down the fire escape. The only words she heard made her smile.
"When I find out who done this they's gonna wish they'd neva been born!" Spot's voice rang through the block and flocks of birds flew from their nests. Passersby glanced up at the newsboys lodging house at the loud sound emitted from the windows, and watched the girl running down the street, almost falling over with laughter.
Spot was the last newsie to the distribution station that morning. He was still damp from the unexpected bath that Hotshot had given him that morning. He was also very agitated because of the fact that no one would tell him who had, literally, soaked him. Even without their help he still had a pretty good idea.
"I'm gonna hurt you," he hissed at Hotshot.
She turned and let a fake, surprised look come over her face, "Spot, what on earth happened ta you?"
"You know what happened, an' you know 'cause you did it." He barely noticed some of the other newsies surrounding them.
"Ya can't prove it though, can you?" She smiled smugly at him and laughed.
Spot knew it was her but there was no way he could prove it. He also knew that Rebel wouldn't let him soak her without proof. He was stuck. The Brooklyn leader stood for a moment just looking at her, and then he burst out laughing, realizing what she was getting revenge on him for. Only when he laughed did most of the other newsies allow the laughter they'd been holding in all morning to escape.
Specs was somewhat hurt when Hotshot walked off with Pickpocket, Roman, and Swinger. He was only upset, however, until Skittery, Dutchy, Snoddy, and Pie Eater surrounded him. The group had soon claimed a portion of central park to sell in.
Four Brooklyn newsies walked through Bottle Alley selling papers to everyone they saw. When there weren't many people Pickpocket and Hotshot talked while Roman and Swinger had a mock fight, and occasionally joined the conversation.
Hotshot and Pickpocket were in the middle of a discussion about old times in Brooklyn when the two clowns ended their fight and Swinger interrupted them.
"So what're we gonna do when you come back to Brooklyn. We's gonna need ta have a big party or sumthin'!" Swinger announced, bouncing alongside Pickpocket.
Hotshot stopped in her tracks and the other three kept walking. She hadn't even thought about going back to Brooklyn since the first time Specs had kissed her. For some reason she thought that meant she should stay in Manhattan. But now, with her father getting out of jail and the Brooklyn boys wanting her to come back she wasn't as sure.
"Hotshot?" Pickpocket asked over his shoulder. She quickened her pace and caught up with them.
"You are comin' back ta Brooklyn when this whole thing ends ain'tcha?" Roman asked.
"Of course." She gave them the answer that they wanted, for now anyway. She tucked the thought into the back of her mind as Swinger started another conversation.
"So why aren't you at youse dad's trial taday?" he asked.
"I'se only goin' Wednesday through Friday," she said, "The days me, Spot , an' Reb testify and the day of the judges decision. I ain't needed the rest of the time and I'se real sick a that courtroom."
She split from her comrades a few hours later after they'd sold the morning papers. She walked to the hospital by herself and literally walked into Specs, who was coming to the door from a different angle.
"Oof!" the air was sucked out of his lungs as he hit the hard surface of the hospital floor. His friend had a similar reaction. Specs pushed himself up and offered her his hand. She took hold of it and pulled herself up. "I see your still just naturally graceful." He commented.
"As always," she said sarcastically, doing a little bow.
He just shook his head and the two of them entered their companion's room. They found Kid Blink, Bumlets, and Race taking part in a poker game. Race was just adding his pocket watch to the ever-growing pile between them.
"Racetrack Higgins, I went through a lot of trouble to get that watch back for you," Hotshot hissed, "You better have a really good hand. And if you think I'll win it back for you again youse got another thing comin'."
Racetrack dismissed her scolding with a wave of his hand. He won the round and luckily didn't bet his watch in the next game, which he lost miserably to Bumlets. Specs and Hotshot joined the game and a few hours later Specs won his first poker game of all times.
When Kid Blink began to fall asleep it was a signal for them to leave. Bumlets halted them outside the door. He told them that Blink had had two coughing fits that day but they were much better than even those at the lodging house. The news of the coughing fit was all that still worried them but the rest was good news. The trio dropped by the lodging house to give the others the good news. By the time they left again it was past dark and the streets were nearly empty.
Hotshot was the least startled out of them all when a dark form appeared in front of them. All four of them froze and the form, obviously a newsie from another part of New York muttered incoherently. "Watch your back!" he said loudly enough for them to hear. He threw a large rock in their direction and they each dodged out of the way of the flying object. When they looked back to where he'd been he was gone. Race picked up the rock and read what was scratched into it 'Beware'.
"Mitchell," was all Hotshot could say, and they continued on their way.
A/N: Dun, dun, dun… More suspense. Ain't it great! If you want to find out who the two newsies from the paper are you'll have to go watch the movie. I would love it if more people would leave reviews saying whom they think Hotshot should end up with, not just SaL and Lange, who both write awesome stories by the way.
Anyway, I hope you all liked this chapter and I'm hoping that means you're going to review. For those of you who have a fear of reviewing, GET OVER IT!!! Apologies in advance, it's late and I'm on sugar high. I'll have more chapters up but they're gonna slow down 'cause I have band camp. Ugh! Color Guard rocks though.
~Megan~~~