*****Once again, thanks for the reviews. You might find a bit of fluff
here. Is fluff a good thing or a bad thing, I forget. I know I'm turning
Jack into a total sap here taking away his tough guy image, but if given
the chance don't they all have a soft side somewhere? His trigger was
found.*****
Blisters among the calluses made selling difficult for Jack on Sunday. He knew they should be bandaged, but he did not want to draw further attention to them. Looking scornfully at Race, he set off with Davie and Les hoping his expertise in headline hawking would aid in their selling out quickly.
"Is everyone at the house okay? We heard about the fire."
"Yeah, everyone's fine. Mush and me was able to take the curtains into the street and stomp them out before anyone got hurt."
"Wow, Jack you saved the all the newsies and the whole house." Looking up with admiration in his eyes, Les found a way to over dramatize the whole event.
Jack looked down at the younger boy, ran a hand over his head, winced slightly hoping neither would notice and smiled. The worship from Les caused him to feel a little pride and arrogance. "Yeah, I guess we did."
Observing the wince caused David to seek the source. Seeing the blisters on his hands, David's eyebrows raised in question. Jack saw the look and shrugged, carefully tucking them into his pockets to avoid further inspection. Deciding better not to ask, his being a hero to Les and all, David sought a topic of conversation.
"Where should we sell today, our regular spot or something new?"
"I think we should head over toward Brooklyn to find Khaos. I can't believe you, Davie, chickening out, she was right there."
"I know, I know, how many times do you have to bring this up?" Shortly after Khaos entered Tibby's Wednesday afternoon, David and Les had left to see Sarah off on her train causing him to miss his first chance to talk to her after admitting his feelings to someone. Changing the subject back to their selling spot as quickly as it had been sent off course. "I'm thinking Irving Hall, might be good to us for a change. What do you say?"
In full agreement, the threesome turned and headed in the direction of Irving Hall and Medda. Whenever they needed quick sell, Medda's was almost better than Central Park at lunchtime. Her customers bought their papers in order to stop them from walking the aisles.
David felt it might be better for them to sell in silence for a change. Not wanting to talk about Khaos, listen to Jack's incessant needling about her, nor wishing to discuss Sarah and her reasons for departure, Medda's had been his suggestion. He noticed though that Jack seemed different somehow, not looking so miserable.
"Hey, Les, I started reading this incredible book."
"You, read?"
"Yes, Davey, I read. I had some alone time yesterday. With things being quiet, I picked a book of the shelf and decided to do something with the quiet."
"What was it, what book did you choose?"
"Well, Les, I was reading about Camelot."
"What's Camelot?"
"Camelot is the kingdom of King Arthur."
"Wow, a king? Does he have knights with swords?"
"Yeah, Les, knights with swords and armor and slingshots."
At this, David raised an eyebrow, "Slingshots?"
"Yeah, slingshots, made out of wood. They shot big rocks over the castle walls."
"I think you mean catapults."
"Um, yeah, that's the word, catapults."
"And may I ask what you learned while reading about Camelot?"
"Dave, I learned why Sarah left. She may have gone to make money, but I know she has someone else."
"You learned this from a book?"
"Sort of, yes, I mean, well, yes, I know. Isn't that all that matters?" Jack did not intend to explain the dream, or the tights.
David now knew what caused the change in his attitude and found himself surprised over the reaction. Asking about the newly adopted outlook was not in order, knowing Jack was moving on was all he needed to know.
Adjusting to the darkness once they entered Medda's took only a few seconds. As the singing acts were not due to start for another hour, the boys went back stage to see the star. Finding Medda in her office sitting on her couch, head in hands clearly distraught, Jack handed his papers to David as he moved to sit next to her.
Placing his hand on her far shoulder, Jack leaned against the woman in a sign of support. This gesture caused her sobbing became more intense. Looking up at David and Les, he signaled for them to leave the room. David stood mesmerized by the woman's crying. Medda seemed so strong, true she was caring offering moral support wherever she saw a need, but crying seemed beyond her. Les took Jack's cue dragging his brother from the room, closing the door behind them.
Next to him sat a woman he had known most of his life, a friend of the family, well his father's friend anyway, Medda had always been there. When his father was taken into custody, Medda introduced him to the newsies, assuring he would have a place to sleep and older boys around to teach him the ways of the streets. On several occasions while trying to hide from the bulls, Jack ducked into Irving Hall, Medda more than happy to provide him with lodging for the night if need be and a lie or two to the men looking for him.
"Medda?" It was only one word, but served to uncork the emotions she was feeling.
"I'm sorry, Jack, it's just that an old friend of mine and his wife died. They were touring an old factory he sponsored when a boiler pipe backed up causing an explosion. Poor John and Anne, they were such kind people. Their funeral was just Friday and now their daughter has gone missing."
"I remember reading about that in the papes the other day. He's the guy what helped us during the strike and all ain't he?"
"Yes."
"They came to the lodging house one time, the man and the daughter. Just sat up on the roof with us smoking and sharing stories, you'd never know they was people with money. They listened to us like they really cared too."
"John had a gift that way. When he saw a need, he just wanted to help in any way he could. Emerson, his daughter is the same way."
"We told them about how we'd all come to be newsies." Jack said recalling the events of that day. "She seemed to actually be interested in what we had to say."
"And I'm sure; she was genuinely interested, in the stories, not just the person telling them. They Lewis' were good people. I hope wherever Emerson is, that she is safe."
Blisters among the calluses made selling difficult for Jack on Sunday. He knew they should be bandaged, but he did not want to draw further attention to them. Looking scornfully at Race, he set off with Davie and Les hoping his expertise in headline hawking would aid in their selling out quickly.
"Is everyone at the house okay? We heard about the fire."
"Yeah, everyone's fine. Mush and me was able to take the curtains into the street and stomp them out before anyone got hurt."
"Wow, Jack you saved the all the newsies and the whole house." Looking up with admiration in his eyes, Les found a way to over dramatize the whole event.
Jack looked down at the younger boy, ran a hand over his head, winced slightly hoping neither would notice and smiled. The worship from Les caused him to feel a little pride and arrogance. "Yeah, I guess we did."
Observing the wince caused David to seek the source. Seeing the blisters on his hands, David's eyebrows raised in question. Jack saw the look and shrugged, carefully tucking them into his pockets to avoid further inspection. Deciding better not to ask, his being a hero to Les and all, David sought a topic of conversation.
"Where should we sell today, our regular spot or something new?"
"I think we should head over toward Brooklyn to find Khaos. I can't believe you, Davie, chickening out, she was right there."
"I know, I know, how many times do you have to bring this up?" Shortly after Khaos entered Tibby's Wednesday afternoon, David and Les had left to see Sarah off on her train causing him to miss his first chance to talk to her after admitting his feelings to someone. Changing the subject back to their selling spot as quickly as it had been sent off course. "I'm thinking Irving Hall, might be good to us for a change. What do you say?"
In full agreement, the threesome turned and headed in the direction of Irving Hall and Medda. Whenever they needed quick sell, Medda's was almost better than Central Park at lunchtime. Her customers bought their papers in order to stop them from walking the aisles.
David felt it might be better for them to sell in silence for a change. Not wanting to talk about Khaos, listen to Jack's incessant needling about her, nor wishing to discuss Sarah and her reasons for departure, Medda's had been his suggestion. He noticed though that Jack seemed different somehow, not looking so miserable.
"Hey, Les, I started reading this incredible book."
"You, read?"
"Yes, Davey, I read. I had some alone time yesterday. With things being quiet, I picked a book of the shelf and decided to do something with the quiet."
"What was it, what book did you choose?"
"Well, Les, I was reading about Camelot."
"What's Camelot?"
"Camelot is the kingdom of King Arthur."
"Wow, a king? Does he have knights with swords?"
"Yeah, Les, knights with swords and armor and slingshots."
At this, David raised an eyebrow, "Slingshots?"
"Yeah, slingshots, made out of wood. They shot big rocks over the castle walls."
"I think you mean catapults."
"Um, yeah, that's the word, catapults."
"And may I ask what you learned while reading about Camelot?"
"Dave, I learned why Sarah left. She may have gone to make money, but I know she has someone else."
"You learned this from a book?"
"Sort of, yes, I mean, well, yes, I know. Isn't that all that matters?" Jack did not intend to explain the dream, or the tights.
David now knew what caused the change in his attitude and found himself surprised over the reaction. Asking about the newly adopted outlook was not in order, knowing Jack was moving on was all he needed to know.
Adjusting to the darkness once they entered Medda's took only a few seconds. As the singing acts were not due to start for another hour, the boys went back stage to see the star. Finding Medda in her office sitting on her couch, head in hands clearly distraught, Jack handed his papers to David as he moved to sit next to her.
Placing his hand on her far shoulder, Jack leaned against the woman in a sign of support. This gesture caused her sobbing became more intense. Looking up at David and Les, he signaled for them to leave the room. David stood mesmerized by the woman's crying. Medda seemed so strong, true she was caring offering moral support wherever she saw a need, but crying seemed beyond her. Les took Jack's cue dragging his brother from the room, closing the door behind them.
Next to him sat a woman he had known most of his life, a friend of the family, well his father's friend anyway, Medda had always been there. When his father was taken into custody, Medda introduced him to the newsies, assuring he would have a place to sleep and older boys around to teach him the ways of the streets. On several occasions while trying to hide from the bulls, Jack ducked into Irving Hall, Medda more than happy to provide him with lodging for the night if need be and a lie or two to the men looking for him.
"Medda?" It was only one word, but served to uncork the emotions she was feeling.
"I'm sorry, Jack, it's just that an old friend of mine and his wife died. They were touring an old factory he sponsored when a boiler pipe backed up causing an explosion. Poor John and Anne, they were such kind people. Their funeral was just Friday and now their daughter has gone missing."
"I remember reading about that in the papes the other day. He's the guy what helped us during the strike and all ain't he?"
"Yes."
"They came to the lodging house one time, the man and the daughter. Just sat up on the roof with us smoking and sharing stories, you'd never know they was people with money. They listened to us like they really cared too."
"John had a gift that way. When he saw a need, he just wanted to help in any way he could. Emerson, his daughter is the same way."
"We told them about how we'd all come to be newsies." Jack said recalling the events of that day. "She seemed to actually be interested in what we had to say."
"And I'm sure; she was genuinely interested, in the stories, not just the person telling them. They Lewis' were good people. I hope wherever Emerson is, that she is safe."