Past Secrets and Present Times
Chapter 30
By Hotshot
Splash: You're right it was priceless. I can think of just the person to play her part I real life. The couples did come out pretty good, and here is another chapter as ordered.
Frenchy: Sugar high, I hear ya, especially around Christmas time. I'm glad you lied the song. I was worried that people would complain that I didn't use their choice. I don't see why we have to go back to school next Thursday. It's not like anyone's gonna work. They should just give us two weeks off for winter break.
Drama-Queen: Yeah, I sorta needed to put Canada with Spot. Lets just say the wonderful author behind Canada has been on my case forever because I've been 'mean' to poor little Spot. As for the drink, Hummingbird had it coming.
Caitlin22888: Hotshot and Specs being together is a tough question, seeing as they are very dysfunctional in every story they're put in together. There is some drama between them in this chapter too though. Lots of fun to write.
I want to be able to write more of these next time so please review. And SaL, I want a review from you this time.
And now on with the show…For some forever-unknown reason Hotshot's father let her brother wake her up the next morning. And for some reason thought Blackjack would do it nicely. Then you need to think, c'mon, this is a newsie we're talking about, there's no way that's possible. Blackjack took a flying leap onto her bed sending both of them sliding across it, and him falling onto the floor.
"Blackjack," Hotshot groaned, "Go away and let me sleep."
"Ah, there's the little girl that I missed so much over the past few years," He sat up and met her glare. He grinned at her when most of the other newsies would have turned and fled before she tried to kill him.
"Bite me," she muttered, shoving him backwards.
He only laughed, pushing himself up and ordering her out of bed. He left the room only when he was sure she wouldn't bury herself under the blankets and fall back asleep.
Her father wanted her to dress nicer than usual but Hotshot didn't want to. It would make her seem like a traitor in her way of thinking. She'd acted and dressed like a newsie the entire way through. Why would that change now that the judge was making a decision? She threw on her normal newsie clothes but replaced her battered gray shirt with a newer one, dark green. Her father only glanced at her, half-disapprovingly as she walked through the kitchen.
Everyone in that house climbed into the carriage several minutes later. From Brooklyn training Hotshot's face did not show any emotion. The only way to tell she was nervous was that she was biting her nails. She was the first one out of the carriage as they reached the courthouse. It was nearly half an hour before they were to begin and already there was a large crowd of newsies outside.
"Heya Hots, how's it rollin'?" The always-influential voice was the first to greet her. He nodded in greeting to her father and brother as they walked inside.
Hotshot felt most of her nervousness disappear for the moment and walked over to where the boys were standing. The Brooklyn and Manhattan newsies formed a huge crowd, probably big enough to make most wonder who was going to sell the papers that day. Spot wrapped an arm around her in comfort as the other boys surged with her.
"You get credit for the setup," he whispered in her ear.
She glanced at him seeing him smiling and nodding to where Sarah, Canada and the other girls were all standing. A grin crept over her face and she turned to the other guys. The square echoed with the sounds made by all of the boys for the next several minutes, but there was an immediate hush when another carriage pulled up. Every boy, even the younger ones, stood and watched as Mr. Edwards and the Pulitzer's continued inside.
"We'd better go in," Hotshot said, the nervousness had returned.
As everyone started up the stairs and into the building Specs took hold of her hand. "Good luck," he said giving her hand a light squeeze, "I'll talk to you when we get out." He released her hand and kissed her cheek before following his friends inside.
Hotshot stood in the doorway for a moment staring into the crowded room, knowing her fate would be sealed the minute she set foot in that room. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and started up the isle to her seat next to Denton. Many of her friends yelled encouragement to her as she walked by.
Denton raised an eyebrow as she sat down, "Are you ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," she responded.
"Judge Monahan might want to ask you a few questions while he makes this decision." He continued, trying to catch her eye.
"I know Denton," she looked over at him, "I'm ready for whatever. This is just another day for me. I mean it can't get any worse than the last few weeks have been, can it?"
Denton shook his head, "No I suppose not."
The room went silent as Judge Monahan entered and took his seat. He organized the papers on his desk and looked over the occupants of the courtroom. Never in the past several years had their been so many people viewing a case over one person's life, and never over a woman's life. "Miss Lynn, I have a few questions for you before a decision can be made in your case. Will you please stand?"
Hotshot stood up and clasped her hands together in front of her. She nodded for the judge to begin his questioning.
"Miss Lynn, most newsies have nicknames to hide them from the police, correct?"
"Yes sir."
"And do you have one of these names?"
"Yes."
"What is it?"
"They call me Hotshot."
"And why is that?"
"Since I was a kid I've been known to be overconfident. I hit a twelve year old newsie and gave him a black eye my first day with the Brooklyn newsies."
"Miss Lynn, have you ever helped hide a criminal?"
"That depends on your definition of criminal sir, but if you mean someone running from the police then yes. All the newsies hide each other. I never regret it. The refuge takes these boys off the streets, but when they are released they have no money to but papes and usually end up worse off than before."
"One final question Miss Lynn." The judge looked at her after looking around the entire courtroom. "Why would you choose to live on the streets over living in a mansion? I understand the lack of freedoms, but to be comfortable and not have to steal to get by… Why would you want anything else?"
Hotshot smiled to herself, "Your Honor, when I lived in those mansions my entire life was controlled by some rule. On the streets I am free to do whatever I want. I'm able to go where I want, do what I want, and talk to whoever I want. More important than that I have friends that I know will not leave me if I suddenly go bankrupt. Your Honor, I will go back to that life eventually. I know that. I can't be a newsie forever, and I will need to get a job, but for now I can continue being a newsie. I'm a teenager sir, not an adult. I don't need to worry about being married and getting a job. I am educated, with a high school diploma and I have street smarts. When I get too old to be a newsie I will get a real job. I'll probably have connections all over the city, because I know a lot of my friends are going to get somewhere in this city. Until that time comes I want to live my life to the fullest and do what I want."
The judge nodded, "You may take your seat."
Hotshot sat down, not making eye contact with anyone. Her eyes were on the judge. He thought for a moment before speaking again.
"There are some sentences that must be passed out before the verdict, and everything I say will be final in this case, no appeal allowed."
Hotshot balled her hands into fists, digging her nails into the skin of her palms.
Judge Monahan stood, "Joseph Pulitzer will be fined three thousand dollars for mistreatment of a child, and illegal arrangement of a marriage. Jonathan Pulitzer will be fined five thousand dollars for child abuse. And sir if there is so much as a weapons charge brought against you it will be enough to send you to the state penitentiary for life. As for miss Lynn…"
Hotshot sucked in a breath, she could still be sent back with them.
"Let the record show that Miss Lynn is to be granted emancipation and allowed out of the custody of Joseph and Jonathan Pulitzer."
She couldn't move as cheers rang through the courtroom. The noise was deafening but she didn't hear anything, only those words echoed through her mind… 'Miss Lynn is to be granted emancipation'. She stood with a smile spreading over her face, "Thank you Denton."
"You're welcome Brooke." He smiled, "Good luck with the newsies."
She turned to where the Pulitzer's and Mr. Edwards sat. "You better watch out Mr. Edwards," she warned, "I plan to become a lawyer and if you're still around then you should get used to losing cases." She proceeded out the doors as a crowd left. The newsies cried out to her as they passed, claiming that they'd see her later and hurrying in various directions to celebrate. Her father and brother walked off to fetch the carriage driver while Hotshot stood in the lobby.
"Congratulations," Specs spoke from behind her.
She began to turn toward him when another voice spoke from her other side. "I don't care what that judge said Brooke, you will be back in that mansion by the end of next week." Jonathan Pulitzer stood behind her.
"You can't touch me."
"I'll only resort to that if my other methods don't work. You may as well come along now." He reached forward to take her arm.
"Leave her alone!" Specs snapped, "You lost, get used to that fact."
"She may be scum like you boy but at least I can make something of her. She's probably as much of a whore as her mother."
Before Hotshot could move Specs drove his fist into Pulitzer's face, knocking the older man to the ground. Security guards rushed over, first to arrest Specs. They stopped, however, when they saw Jonathan they paused. His coat had flipped back to reveal a revolver. The chief of police arrived as the old man began to yell for them to arrest Specs. The chief shook his head and pulled Jonathan to his feet, pushing him roughly toward the police wagon. Hotshot remembered the judge's promise and grinned. Judge Monahan may have been 'movealong' Monahan to the newsies but she knew as a fact that if he promised something it happened.
The door to the police wagon slammed shut with a satisfying bang, and the carriage rolled forward. Jonathan Pulitzer yelled from inside, screaming insults directed at the police officers and Hotshot. She didn't mind though, he was as good as locked up. The surprised look on Joseph Pulitzer's face was just as priceless.
She turned to Specs as the last police officer disappeared from sight, and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him. He staggered back for a moment before wrapping his arms around her waist. They were quickly interrupted by a strict voice behind them.
"Matthew, get your hands off that whore," Mr. Edwards commanded.
Specs pulled his face back from Brooke's, looking into her eyes and sighing. The look on his face was unreadable, even to her. He turned to his father, all the while keeping a hand on Hotshot's waist. "What do you want?" he asked.
"Your mother and sisters are waiting in the carriage. We don't want to keep them waiting." The man nodded to a carriage waiting by the stairs.
His words sunk in more quickly in Hotshot's mind, "But we won. We won the case," she said, "We mad a deal that if Denton and I won he wouldn't have to go back."
"I made a deal with two worthless little street rats. Promises like that are not meant to be kept," he spat. "Go get in the carriage Matthew." When Specs didn't move he added, "Now!"
"No," Specs stated calmly.
"What!?" his father stopped, "What did you say to me boy?"
"No, I'm not going back," Specs said, "I'm staying here and there's nothing you can do about it."
"I will beat you within an inch of death when we get home boy. I swear to God. Now you stop this insubordination an listen to me-"
"No, you listen to me," Specs yelled loudly enough to catch the attention of the few newsies who still stayed behind. He lowered his voice a little, "You listen to me. I am going to be eighteen in less than five months. I ain't gonna go home just so you can beat me every night. I don' care what kind of things you can do to make my life miserable. If you bring me back I can tell you right now that I'll be gone every morning. You may think I need to depend on you but I don't, and neither do Mom and my sisters. We don't need you. I have my own life now Dad, and I don't need your help. I don't need to depend on you, so there's no way you are getting me back there."
Mr. Edwards stood there for a moment before turning and stalking away. Specs turned to Hotshot as soon as his father climbed into the carriage, "Now, where were we?"
She let him wrap her in his arms again and kissed him. He pulled back a moment later with a serious look covering her face. "Hotshot, the trial's over. I need to know, can we be together again?"
"Brooke," her father's voice echoed over her shoulder. "Brooke, come along we need to be going."
She glanced quickly between the two men. She wanted to scream in frustration, but at the same time cry from not knowing what to do. Would anyone really have known if put in her situation.
"Hotshot, answer me please?" Specs' face loomed in front of her. Her father's order echoed from behind her.
"Specs, I can't be with you. I'm so sorry, but I can't." Hotshot didn't want to see his reaction because she was pretty sure she already knew it. She turned and ran to where her father was waiting. She looked back to where they'd been standing when she climbed into the carriage to see he'd disappeared. The horses began to pull the carriage along the street and she turned in her seat, staring out at any newsies yelling the headline on the street, 'Girl Freed From Stepfather's Clutches' or various assortments of that headline. She sighed, knowing some of them might change that before the end of the selling day.
They stopped by the lodging house to pick up the few things she'd left there. Kloppman nodded as she walked up the stairs. She packed everything but tucked her slingshot into the underside of the bunk above hers and her bag of marbles under her own. She'd be back to visit them at least. If not someone else would find them and give them to Spot.
A sad look was on Kloppman's face when she came downstairs with her extra accessories. The few newsies who were in the building looked at her confused as she walked up to the front desk. She placed a dollar on the counter. She would have had two but Race still hadn't paid her the money from his bet the previous night. "How ever long that lasts for the guys. Tell 'em I said goodbye, alright Kloppman?"
The old man shook his head, a thin smile stretching across his lips, "You'll be back."
She glanced over her shoulder at her father who was waiting patiently outside, "I hope so Kloppman. I really hope so."
"Girl, your father will keep you away from here as much as Santa Fe kept Jack away during the strike. Sure you'll stay with him for a while, but you'll be back."
She managed to smile and then walked back outside. While Kloppman was positive that she'd be back she wasn't so certain.
The drive to her father's house was quiet. The excitement about her winning the trial was still pouring between her brother and her father, but she was sick of it. They reached the house and her father let her unpack before calling her to his office.
"We need to talk about your going back to school, young lady. I want to be sure that lie you told the judge is erased."
"That wasn't a lie. I finished high school. (Was it called high school back then, I dunno, do you?…)" She stared at her father.
"You said you didn't go to school while you were a newsie. How else could you be educated?"
"When you went to Brooklyn did you ever meet a newsie named Wise?"
"Yes, he was one of the most highly educated newsies around."
"Well, he sort of mentored this kid who's about my age, maybe a few months older. Anyway, we call the guy Wiser. He is the only newsie, or one of the only one's, that Spot and Rebel let go to school. He's gonna be a teacher so it sort of worked out well. He'd go to school in the mornings and teach the rest of us what he learned in the evening." She laughed, "The only time he ever got away with yelling at Spot was when Spot didn't do the homework. He taught most of us, but more, and more people dropped out when they thought they'd learned enough. Spot made me; Pickpocket, the girls and a few other guys stay in. Wiser teaches the younger newsies too. He made arrangements with these teachers. When they take those really important tests all of us that are still in the program will go in and take it at some time during the week. The guys and I graduated this past spring. Laze and Sweets will next spring. Spot ain't always there 'cause of turf wars and the strike an' all but he should be done by then too."
For some reason her father still looked doubtful.
"My diploma's at the Brooklyn lodging house if you want me to go get it. Wiser keeps them in some drawer Mr. Dawson lets him use."
"No, I believe you," he said, "I'll have your brother pick it up later though. Supposedly there's a poker game going on at the lodging house tonight."
Hotshot's eyes lit up; a poker game at the lodging house. She hadn't been to one in ages.
"I told him to say hello to your friends for you." Her father said, "You and I need to catch up. We haven't had time to do that yet."
There would be other poker games she reasoned with herself but her father and her hadn't really had a chance to talk since he'd been released. There were other things she'd need to deal with but those could wait for a while. She needed to get to know her father again.
"So is Spot gonna be there tonight?" She asked her brother as he prepared to leave later.
"Nope," Blackjack said, "He's stayin' in Manhattan for another two weeks or sumthin' like that. He needs to sort everything out like that and they'se havin' one a those meetings with the other borough leaders. It's Manhattan's turn to host it so he's just stayin' there. Pickpocket's coming back 'till then so he'll be there tonight. I'll tell them all that you say hello."
"Thanks Blackjack," she nodded to him as he slipped out the door. She found her father in the sitting room several minutes later and sat down to join him. They sat there in silence for a few moments before her father started their conversation; "So how old were you when that brother of yours dragged you off to the newsies for the first time?"
She grinned and started to tell him about everything that had happened, leaving out the parts he wouldn't want to hear. These would include some of the time she spent with Spot and the fight with Mitchell. There was so much that each of them wanted to know that they were still talking when Andres came in complaining that Royal cheated him out of all of his money.
The next morning hotshot was sent to go shopping with Rosa. Her father approved of her wearing newsie clothes but he wanted her to have some nicer things to wear to, besides most of her older clothes were torn and stained with dirt. They bought a number of tank tops, long-sleeved shirts and buttoned shirts, a few pairs of pants and even a few skirts and blouses that she swore to Rosa that she wouldn't be caught dead wearing. As they walked back to the carriage she noticed a few of her friends watching her from their selling spots. Pickpocket, Roman, and Swinger approached the carriage at their normal leisurely pace.
"So youse leavin' us for some hoity-toity lifestyle after all, huh?" Roman snapped. When she began to defend herself he just shook his head and stalked off.
"You guys, that ain't how it is." She told the remaining two newsies.
"We know," Swinger said, "Whatta you want us to tell the guys back home and in Manhattan. Not a lot of 'em are mad, jus' confused. You know Roman, his only fault is that temper a his.
"Tell 'em that my dad expected me to stay with him. I'se stayin' ta help him settle in. I don't know what's gonna happen after that; there's some stuff I gotta figure out before I come back to the newsies."
Swinger nodded, "Talk to you later." He waved as he ran to catch up with Roman.
"Roman'll probably come apologize to you sometime soon," Pickpocket said, "you know him."
"Maybe he's right though," she said indicating to Rosa that she was going to walk back. The older woman just shrugged and the carriage pulled away from the curb. "Maybe I just let my dad make the decision for me." She and Pickpocket began to walk back toward her house, both of them selling his papers as they went.
"What are you talking about?" He asked looking at her sideways.
"Remember that day when you guys were asking how big a party we should have had when I came back to Brooklyn?"
"Yeah, so."
"Well, when I first came to Manhattan I missed Brooklyn so much. They're really different paces, and I woulda come back to Brooklyn at the first chance you gave me…"
"But…" Pickpocket prodded.
"But, I dunno, the guys here sorta grow on ya. There aren't as many as in Brooklyn, an' they aren't as tough but it works just as well. I felt as at home there as I did those first few years I was here. You guys asked me to come back to Brooklyn, an' a bunch of them asked me if I was staying in Manhattan. I felt trapped. I couldn't make one decision without someone hating me."
"We wouldn't hate you," he told her, "I mean we'd love it if you came back, but if you wanna stay in Manhattan no one's gonna start a fight over it. You love Specs and all so you should go back there."
"I do not love Specs!" she cried out, "Where did you get an idea like that?"
He laughed, "Maybe you just haven't realized it yet. We think you should go where you're gonna be happiest. I get that you wanna help your dad get settled but the longer you stay the harder it's gonna be to leave or decide. Your dad thinks you're going to stay forever but I know you better than he does. Nuthin' could keep you from bein' a newsie that long." He looked around her street as they reached the front steps, "Who sells around here?"
"No one," she sighed, "Spot made the guys avoid it when I was in Brooklyn and no one's had the sense to claim it. Extremely annoying though."
"What is?"
"I gotta walk like three streets down to buy a paper, every morning."
"I'll bring Roman, Swinger, Royal, Ace, an' Spot by later. We'll have newsies sellin' here sooner or later."
"You better," she laughed, nodding toward the house where you could hear Andres arguing with someone, "Or else I'd lose my sanity. We may be richer but this is more of a madhouse than all the lodging houses in New York combined."
A/N: I think that was the smallest space between updates that I've had yet. I had a great Christmas if anyone is interested. My sister and me got cell phones. Only 600 minutes a month. Hers will be gone in a week. I am guessing there will only be about three more chapters in this story, but then I also said there would be thirty chapters in the whole thing and look at this, chapter thirty and I'm still not done. I want to thank those people who reviewed the last chapter again. My last few chapters haven't gotten that many reviews so thanks and please review again.
For those of you that read and do not review please, please, please review this or the next chapter. That little purple button that says go, yeah, press that. I really would love to know what you guys think of my stories. If I don' get a lot or reviews I might stop putting stuff up. C'mon, reviewing stories should be fun. Tell me what you thought was funny, what you think I can fix, or who you want to see more of. Hell, you could even tell me random little things that happened to you and I wouldn't care. Joke around; I love to do that with people. Give me screen names for IM. I just got one like five minutes ago and I don't know that many people who I can talk about newsies with. If you wanna talk definitely IM me, my screen name is Hotshot52387. Add me to your buddy list or something.
Next Chapter: Hotshot starts to get restless I her new life and goes to talk to her father…
~Hotshot~~~