Past Secrets and Present Times
Chapter 24
By Megan
Hotshot ignored the first two boys who came to wake her up the next morning. Neither Specs nor David had anything to threaten her with. She would merely bury herself deeper in her blankets until they went away.
Racetrack came in brandishing a metal bucket. He put it down on the table next to her bed. Hotshot opened one eye lazily and closed it again. "If you do I'll shoot you in youse sleep."
"C'mon Hotshot, it's almost nine. Youse gotta get up." He complained.
She opened an eye again to see him smiling evilly, "I told you if you do-"
"You'll hafta catch me first."
She pushed herself, not in the mood to get soaked that early, "Alright I'm up."
Racetrack didn't leave until she'd pulled clothes out of her closet; probably thinking she'd go back to sleep. Hotshot knew she would have. On Saturday they'd woken her up early to go selling. She was hoping they'd let her have one day of peace before court started again.
She ate a quick breakfast and met the boys in the living room. She took a chair and sat down to think. There were only two weeks left. A lot of it was technical stuff but she and Specs were speaking early the second week. She played poker with the boys for most of the morning and helped Rosa with some of the housework. Newsies were all that were left to be questioned. There weren't many left either, but Mr. Edwards had a way of twisting everyone's words around to make it sound like something different.
Like usual the days passed quickly. After court Hotshot sold with her friends and lived at the lodging house and Tibby's more than her own home. When she had a free moment to sneak away she took a walk to Brooklyn and visited her father. He was almost finished fixing up the house with Andres' help. The two of them were looking over some of his business records. Most of his old clients had come back to him after he'd been released; others were drawn by the fact that he was famous.
Wednesday after court had ended she went back to the house with David, Race and Specs. She wanted to be out selling but the rain kept everyone, newsies, and buyers, inside. She groaned in annoyance and leaned back in the chair, yelling with surprise as Snipeshooter's face appeared in front of her own.
"Jesus Snipeshooter, what're ya doin' here?"
The young boy had jumped back when she yelled, "I came to get David."
"Well don' sneak up on me like that," she was laughing now.
David shrugged on his jacket and followed the younger boy. The other three stared after him for a moment. "Wonder what that's about?" Race asked aloud.
Specs just shrugged and Hotshot slid off the chair into David's now empty spot on the floor.
"Deal me in," she said.
Race protested in a mumble; something about not wanting to lose all his money.
"You're the one who woke me up last weekend, Race." She reminded him.
The rest of the early afternoon the three of them sat in the living room playing cards. No one wanted to go out in the rain that had started early the afternoon before and hadn't let up all night or during court that morning. Even Race was refraining from smoking a cigar outside; Rosa wouldn't let him smoke inside, because of the raw weather.
When her family had lived in the house these had been the days where she would find a book and just read until she fell asleep. Unfortunately, the only book she owned was sitting under her bunk in the lodging house. Instead she spent her time beating Race at poker.
A frantic knock at the door was the first excuse Race could find to get up and away from his losing streak.
"Youse just a sore loser," she called after him.
When he called back to them Hotshot and Specs walked to the door and found Swifty standing in the entryway. "Jack wants you guys to come over to the lodgin' house for a while. We's got a bit of a… um… a situation." Swifty was soaked, but unlike most of the other newsies he wasn't panting after the long run.
"Alright, tell 'em we'll be there in ten, maybe fifteen minutes," Hotshot replied, yelling over her shoulder to Rosa as she grabbed her jacket.
As Swifty ran ahead Hotshot and the two boys walked quickly through the streets. He'd be there with at least a five-minute wait before they got there as well. What could you say, there was a reason he was called Swifty. After all he was the only newsie in the whole city that could run from the Manhattan lodging house to any other lodging house in the city in ten or so minutes.
The rain slowed the three of them, as it made the ideal situation for accidents. Each of them slipped several times before they reached Duane Street.
"I'm surprised Swifty hasn't broken his ankle when he runs on days like this." Specs muttered, cursing as he fell in front of the lodging house steps. The others grumbled their agreement and Hotshot helped him up. They slid through the lodging house door, hoping to spend a few hours there before they had to go back out in the streets again.
Racetrack led the way to the bunkroom and smiled arrogantly as he stepped through the doorway, "Alright, what's so important that youse all need us ta come here an' help ya?" The short Italian stopped short just inside the door as he saw everyone. Hotshot and Specs both walked into him and nearly sent him cascading across the floor.
"What happened?" Specs was frank when he saw the depressed looks on everyone's faces. Several newsies tried to start speaking but none seemed able to get the words out.
Hotshot looked around to find David sitting on a bunk with Jack, Spot, and Rebel. The boy's eyes were red, and puffy, like he'd been crying. This had something to do with Snipeshooter coming over that morning. "David," she walked over and stood in front of the bunk, "What happened David? What's wrong?"
David turned away and Hotshot felt ready to scream in frustration. How was she supposed to help if she didn't know what was wrong.
"Les disappeared," Spot said, "We was all at Tibby's this mornin'. An' when we left he wasn't with us."
"Couldn't he have gone off with someone else?" Specs asked.
"No," Jack shook his head, "Everyone came back here, everyone 'cept you four. We sent Snipa to get Dave soon as we realized he was missin'. I stayed here to wait for them ta gat back and the rest of the guys went out lookin' for 'im."
"And…"
"An' he's nowhere in Manhattan."
"Oh God," Hotshot put a hand on the bunk's frame to keep herself from falling, "Oh David, I'm so sorry."
"Who would take 'im?" David hissed, "He's just a little kid. We gotta find him."
"We will, I promise," Hotshot said.
Jack and a few other newsies walked home with David. They were going to tell his mother that Les and David were staying at the lodging house for a few days so she wouldn't worry. They'd stayed there many times before on short notice so she wouldn't find it unusual.
The rest of the newsies split into groups and combed Manhattan again for the young boy. Crutchy even stopped by the refuge to see if he'd been brought there for some reason. It was true; he was nowhere to be found.
"Maybe we should check Brooklyn," suggested one of the foreign newsies.
"Les wouldn't go there," David said, "He doesn't even know how to get there."
"We'll hafta look again tomorrow," Jack said, "Hotshot, you, Specs, and Race better go back 'fore you miss curfew. David you'll stay here."
Everyone obediently followed orders and the three of them walked back to the other side of town. The rain had stopped but a chill ran through the air. A loud laugh made them all turn. There, standing under the streetlight stood a tall, lanky newsboy. He smoked a cigarette and watched the three of them with amusement. His looks didn't deceive Hotshot though; she knew he was a strong fighter.
"What do you want Scratch?" she snapped, "And where's your other half?"
"Right here," another boy, slightly shorter and robustly built stepped out of the shadows, "Evening Hotshot?"
"Greedy, what're you two doing in Manhattan?"
"You lose sumthin' lately? Mitchell said you did an' we wanted ta get in on the action."
Hotshot turned bright red, considering that they were talking about what Mitchell had said in court.
Scratch spoke up again, "He told us to tell you that you an' your friends better be careful or it'll happen again."
"If I had my knife, Scratch, you'd be a dead man." she spat.
"Sure, Miss Lynn," he teased, "Just be careful not to lose anythin' else that valuable ta you. I'm sure there'll be others who won't appreciate it." He threw a dirty gray newsie cap at her feet.
She snatched it up to throw back at him but when she looked around they were gone. She jammed the cap in her pocket, determined to rip it in two and shove the pieces down each of their throats next time she saw them.
"Who were the scabs?" Race asked, dropping his own cigar and crushing it under his boot.
"Scratch and Greedy. Two a Mitchell's guys." She cracked her knuckles in annoyance, hoping to get off the subject as they started walking again. Race, for once, took the hint and dropped it.
Hotshot was pacing in her room around midnight. She would have climbed up to her spot on the roof but the rain had made the roof to slippery. She was worried about Les, other things too, but mostly Les. He was only ten. If anything happened to him she swore she'd kill the person who'd done it. Half past twelve and she was still pacing.
Specs came in the room and stopped in the doorway. He knew she was worried, everyone was, but she needed sleep or she'd be useless the next day.
Specs' arms closed around her waist and he pulled her over to the bed. She barely protested as he told her to get some sleep. She curled up, leaning back against his chest. His heartbeat, and new rain on the roof lulled her to sleep. Her last thoughts were 'I hope he's not out there in the rain.'
Court dragged on forever the next day. When they got out everyone split up and went out on a search. Hotshot was running through central park when she ran past Pie Eater, who was talking with Snitch and Itey.
"Hotshot," he ran to catch up with her, "We hafta go back to the lodging house. Sumthin' happened."
"What? Could they have found him?"
"I dunno, Jack's just sending everyone back. Itey, and Snitch found me and told me. C'mon, let's get back."
The bunkroom was full of hopeful faces when she got there and pushed herself to the front of the group. Jack was going to be there in a few minutes and everyone wanted to hear his news. Jack slid in through the fire escape and the room fell silent. David and Spot were right behind him. Jack wasn't smiling so she immediately knew Les hadn't been found.
"Mush went to the hospital, to visit Kid Blink," Jack started, "Um… Bumlets disappeared this morning. At first Blink thought he just went to get some food but he didn't come back. We searched the whole hospital. He ain't there."
"You think it's the same one's who took Les?" David asked quietly.
"Who says someone took him?" Snoddy asked.
"It's a feeling, "Jack said, "a feeling a lot of us have."
"The Delancy's." Skittery suggested.
Jack glanced at Snoddy, who shook his head. The action confused Hotshot but she let it go.
"No it wasn't them," Jack said, "From now on no one is to go anywhere alone. Blink's safe at the hospital. Hotshot, Race, and Specs stay together, everyone else don't go selling alone."
No one argued; he was right. Everyone needed to be more careful. The room wasn't filled with commotion, yelling, or outbusts of anger. A few hushed whispers were all that you could hear.
"I think I might stay here tanight." Specs said, sitting down next to her, "Snoddy is pretty upset an' Dutchy's freaked out."
"Alright, I think me an' Race are gonna leave pretty soon. If youse gonna come back later jus' walk back wit' a few a da guys."
"See ya then," he handed her a small paperback book. She looked up at him confused. "You was lookin' for sumthin' ta read the otha day. Dutchy an' Bumlets gave me that for me birthday last year."
Thanks," she walked over to where Race was sitting and motioned toward the door. It wasn't until they left several minutes later that Hotshot looked at the book Specs had giver her, The Three Musketeers by Alexandre Dumas. She stuffed it in her pocket and walked home with Racetrack in silence. She played Poker with him for almost half an hour. When she was getting ready for bed that night she curled up on her bed with the book and read for hours.
She sat in court the next morning as the newsies filed into the courtroom. Dutchy was seated on the bunch behind her, along with Pie Eater, as they were being questioned that day. As the doors were being shut Hotshot looked around and whispered to Dutchy, "Where's Specs?"
Before Dutchy could answer Judge Monahan entered the room and everyone's attention was diverted to the front of the room. The testimonies that day did not go as badly as others had. They were helping to build a strong reason for the judge to grant her emancipation.
When they were let out around noon she met up with her friends. She unconsciously did a head count and looked around for Specs, to thank him for the book. "Again, Dutchy, where's Specs?"
"How am I supposed to know?" he asked, "He went back to youse house last night?"
Her blood ran cold, "Who walked back with him?" By now everyone had frozen and was listening to their conversation.
"Me an' Pie were gonna but he didn't want us to go that late."
It took no time at all for the cruel reality to sink in for the newsies. Another newsie was missing; first Les, then Bumlets, now Specs, who was going to be next.
"Race, take Brooke back to the house. Me an' the guys'll search the city and meet with you at the lodging house in two hours. Don't let her outta the house alone." Spot threw out orders.
Hotshot glared at him for using her real name but felt strangely numb and allowed Race to drag her back to the mansion. She broke free of him there and hid herself in her room. Who the hell was doing this to the newsies and why? For some reason she didn't doubt that this had something to do with her case.
A crash made her jump a foot in the air as a sack crashed through the glass of her window. It landed on the floor and she ran to the window just in time to see a few boys scrambling around the corner of the house. Race, Rubin, and Rosa all entered the room at the same time, Daniel lagged behind slightly.
"What happened?" Rosa asked.
"Someone threw this through the window." She picked up the bag and pulled it open. Inside were a note, a rock, and a few other items. She pulled out the note and uncurled it. Mitchell's all-too-familiar handwriting filled the page.
-Hotshot
So I hear youse been missing some very important things lately Miss Lynn. Les, Bumlets, and Specs to be exact. If you ever want to see them again then I have a feeling you'll do exactly what I tell you.
First, go ahead and tell youse friends where they are, but make sure they know that they can't help. Tomorrow night come down to the old warehouse in Brooklyn. Come alone 'cause I'll have guys all over to tell me if you bring anyone. If you do I'll have to start executin' youse friends, startin wit' the little one, what's his name. Les? It's gonna be a fight Hotshot, hopefully one to the death. You win an' I'll let 'em go, if ya don't then they might die, might not.
Why you might ask. How many times have you embarrassed me in public? More than I can count is all I know. Youse always stealing me position in the newsies, hittin me, etc. I'se had enough and we'se gonna settle this once and for all. Tomorrow night at eight.
-Mitchell
She had the urge to throw the paper out the window, but instead folded it and pilled the other items out of the bag. She pilled out Specs' pocket watch and a chain with a cross on it. "That's Bumlets'." Race reached out and took it. Hotshot handed him the note as well and reached into her pocket, pulling out the hat Scratch had tossed at her the previous night. She groaned, recognizing the small gray hat as Les'.
Hotshot seized Race by the arm, scooping the bag up with the other and saying, "We're going to the lodging house." Without waiting for anyone to answer she had dragged Racetrack out the door. The two of them made it to the lodging house in the fastest time either of them had ever made. "Jack, she yelled running up the stairs.
The boys were crowded around the bunkroom. "What?" Jack asked her unenthusiastically.
Spot caught the spark of anger in her eye and stood, "What happened?"
She shoved the piece of paper into Jack's hands, "Read it out loud, 'cause everyone's gonna find out anyway an' I'd rather not go over it more than I gotta."
He read the note aloud. The room was full of different reactions. Dutchy, Pie Eater and David all paled, but some of the Brooklyn newsies just rolled their eyes, believing it was a joke.
"Hotshot," Spot said, "How are youse fallin' for one a Mitchell's cheap jokes."
"I didn't at first," she spat back, "but along with that note came these." She pulled Specs' watch and Bumlets' cross out of the bag. She pulled out Les' hat as well, "Scratch threw this at me the night he disappeared and said somethin' 'bout losing something important. I'm so sorry Dave, I thought he was talking about the trial."
Only after the items had been confirmed by the victims best friends did Spot speak, "We'se comin'."
"Spot, you can't. He'll kill them."
"An' if we don't come he'll kill you. If it ain't him one a his crew will."
"Spot, listen ta me," she yelled in frustration, "I can outsmart all a those guys. You know it! And Mitchell's to proud to let anyone other than hisself even touch me."
"She's gotta go on her own, Spot." They turned to face Rebel, "I know you don't wanna but youse gotta let her go on her own."
Spot didn't argue anymore; it was pointless. To all the newsies in Brooklyn and Manhattan Rebel's word was law, even higher than Spot's.
Dutchy looked at Specs' pocket watch and back at Hotshot, "Does this mean you can stay here tonight?"
"I wish," she said truthfully.
"Well, your curfew's in ten minutes…"
"We better go then."
"Brooke, did you talk to Denton?" David asked, "You know in case anything happens to you?"
"If something happens then the trial is over. If I get them out then it don't affect the trial at all." She nodded to Jack and Spot, "Gotta go, an' don't you dare tell my brother, Conlon."
"Race, don't let her out of your sight an' I want the two of you here tomorrow." Jack instructed.
He nodded and the two left. They sat in Race's room and played poker for hours to keep busy. She left when Race began nodding off to sleep. Her room was as dark as it was outside, the broken window left open to let in the cool night air. She threw the bag of items on her bed and pulled off the black, buttoned up shirt that she wore, leaving only a gray tank top. As she threw the shirt onto her bad a familiar sound reached her ears. It was a sound she'd heard often in her stepfather and uncles' houses, as well as in the lodging houses. Someone was sneaking in through the window. She spun around to face a tall, muscular boy dressed in dark clothing, and with a swift kick, sent him sailing to the ground.
"I'se ain't tryin' ta hurt ya," he said as she stepped toward him to attack again, "I jus' need ta talk ta youse."
She stopped and turned on a lamp, "What are you doing here, Wick?" she asked Mitchell's crony.
"I wanna help you."
"Why should I trust you? Youse with Mitchell's gang."
"Hotshot, Mitchell is crazy. You gotta listen. No one else in that place really wants any part of this 'cept him, Scratch and Greedy. The rest of us just want outta that place. We wanna help, now would you just listen to me?"
"Alright, talk," she sat down in a nearby chair.
He never moved from his position on the ground as he unfurled his plan. It had taken the group a few weeks to construct the plan without Mitchell finding out. They were going to lock Scratch and Greedy in the lodging house and let the other newsies in if they needed to, but they were not going to interfere with what he had planned. As Wick put it, no one was that stupid. "I'll be at the door tomorrow," he said before slipping out the window, back into the darkness. She curled up in bed and fell asleep.
Spot went ballistic when she proposed the plan the next day. "He's one of Mitchell's men! How could you possibly trust him?" he yelled.
"Spot do you remember Wick?"
"What does it matter? He's on of Mitch-"
"Spot, do you remember that kid who came to you beck when we were fifteen, maybe, an' he was all beat up. Remember you let him stay for a few days and he didn't cause any trouble."
"Yeah," Spot spoke cautiously, not sure what she was getting at.
"An' you remember how after two weeks Mitchell came to claim him and he begged you not to make him leave with Mitchell?"
Spot nodded.
"You made him leave anyway 'cause it was newsie law. Spot, don't you remember? Mitchell beat him so badly he couldn't go out selling for two weeks. He broke one of his legs. Sure he's supposedly Mitchell's second in command now but the only reason most of 'em don't leave is 'cause they're scared of what Mitchell will do."
"I'm with her," Lockpick said, standing from his seat behind Spot.
"Trust her," Dutchy said at the same time.
After comments from most of the other newsies Spot and Jack had no choice but to allow her to follow Wick's plan.
It was a long day, which she relaxed for most of; she'd need her strength to fight. When it was time to go to Brooklyn she, for some reason, did not feel nervous. Several newsies from both Brooklyn and Manhattan followed her to the street where the warehouse was located.
"We'll wait for Wick here," Racetrack said, "Be careful."
"I will." she promised everyone before turning and continuing the walk herself.
As promised Wick stood at the door. She looked into his eyes to see if the plan was in action and he nodded slightly. She took a deep breath as he opened the door and followed him inside. She followed the boy through a maze of hallways that led to a large door. Without speaking Wick opened it and motioned her inside. She stepped through and he closed the door behind her.
The warehouse hadn't been used for some time. The small somewhat circular room was sparsely lit. The ground was covered in dirt and boxes were stacked along the walls. The room was tall. The second floor also entered it with ladders to climb to the ground. Hotshot was sure Mitchell was in the room. She spied a small movement in a dark corner and walked over.
"Mitchell," she greeted.
The room's light grew slightly, but only enough to reveal him. "Good evening, Hotshot." He greeted, looking and sounding very smug, "Welcome to my home." His eyes glittered coldly as he stood and Hotshot felt almost certain that only one of them would leave the room alive.
A/N: Ah, another chapter another cliffhanger. I am very happy to announce that this story is almost complete. Just a few more chapters to go. I can also announce that four newsies, other than Specs, now have girlfriends for all my stories. Mush, Dutchy, Jack, and David all have girlfriends, whose names I will post later. If you are interested in having your character be one of the other boys' girlfriends please e-mail me at Megstar1387@aol.com I need the following information.
Name: First 'Newsie' Last
Age: #
Age when joined newsies: # and year
Birthday: Month/ day/ year (1882 if you're 17)
Love interest: (one
guy please)
Close Friends: guys, and whose gf's you're friends with
Best friend: guy, one of
their girlfriends or both
Lives: Pick a lodging house
Weight: thin/ normal/ heavy
Height: #'#"
Hair: color , length, style
Eyes: color
How got newsie name: quick explanation or story
how became a newsie: look at the question and tell 'briefly' how you
became a newisie
Physical: pretty, gorgeous, muscular, tall, shot, etc.
Personality: sarcastic, tough, shy, cautious, serious, leader, follower, etc.
Clothing: what you wear daily, pants, tank top, shirt, vest, hat, jewelers,
watch, will you wear a skirt or dress, how do you do your hair, etc.
Please inc. colors.
Ethnic stuff: French, Italian, Spanish, Canadian (maybe a religion if you wanna
be portrayed as practicing it.)
Fears: heights, spiders, etc.
Good at: fighting poker, etc.
Other: education? read, feed stray cats. Basically any and all weird
little quirks.
I'd appreciate any reactions to this.
It's for one of my next few stories.
Reviews would be nice too… Bye
for now.
~Megan~~~