Heart of the Cards

By SaL

Chapter one: Zipity Do Da

Disclaimer: Now obviously I don't own Newsies or the song Zipity do da, which I believe, is also a Disney thing so there you have it

A/N:  Ok so this is my new serious chapter story!  And if you haven't guessed already, my new muse is Racetrack! So let's see…. What is it about exactly?  Well… I can't say too much or I'll end up giving it away but I will tell you this:

It's got con artists, gambling, revenge, action, and Racetrack! What more can ya ask for in a story?

~*~

"Zipidy do da…. Zipidy de… my oh my what a wonderful day…" Racetrack Higgins hummed while enjoying the solitude of the washroom.  He had woken up early that morning in high spirits.  He had laid out his best clothes and was, at the moment dancing in a towel while slapping on shaving cream.  Normally he didn't care how he looked or what he wore, besides the grubby orphan boy look attracted more 'lady' customers who often pitied him and they gave him tips.  Today however, was an important day.  Today was the day he would finally achieve his dream.  And to do this he would have to look suave. 

            So Race took the time to rise at 3am to ensure himself the time and space he would need to prepare for such a day.  He gently shaved away the stubble and splashed some cool water on his face.  He proceeded to dry himself off from his shower and change into his newest and finest clothes.  Running a comb through his hair, Race debated whether or not he should use hair grease. Finally deciding that it wouldn't hurt he reached for the jar.  "Plenty of sunshine, headin' my way… Zipidy do da… zipidy de…"

            When Race had finished he walked into the bunkroom and stood before a large mirror to view the 'damage'.  His new black pants were pinstriped in white, a new style.  He wore a white dress shirt under a matching black and white pinstripe vest.  He looked sharp, but something was missing.  Racetrack then ran to his bunk, reaching underneath he pulled out a box holding a pair of black dress shoes he'd spent weeks saving money for.  He pulled them on and grabbed the matching pinstriped jacket and his cap.

            Staring at himself in the mirror Race lit up a cigar and smiled.  It took him at least a year of saving money to afford these clothes.  He was pimpin' it and it felt good.  Now he finally looked the part. All he needed to do was be cunning and charming, which came naturally to him.

            Taking one last drag on the cigar, Racetrack turned away from the mirror to face the bunkroom.  His eyes rested on the small table in the center of the room that held his most prized possession, a deck of cards.  He'd had them since God knows when.  Race had devoted himself to them learning every game he could, rummy, poker, blackjack, hearts, you name it he knew it.  Racetrack walked over to the table and slid the deck into the left inside pocket along with his cigars.  Race surveyed the room one last time before exiting.

~*~

            Anthony Higgins strolled down the streets unnoticed by the early morning business goers.  He was out earlier then usual in order to accomplish his dream of becoming a con man.  As Race he had the brains and the street smarts for it.  However he was really in it for two reasons, one to follow in his father's footsteps, and two, revenge. 

            Anthony's fist clamped tightly around a small business card given to him by his father before he had passed on.  It contained only an address and a name, Gino Pasini, the man who was sure to help him.  He remembered the day his parents were murdered his father had intended for him to stay with his business partner Gino.  However, that was before Anthony had come in contact with the newsies and their ways.

            Abruptly Race came to a halt before a worn down brick building.  Closing his eyes, Anthony took a few deep ragged breaths to calm his nerves.  He rapidly knocked on the large red doors then resumed his anxious waiting.  Presently the door opened to reveal a teenage girl.  She was about the same height as Racetrack with medium length brown hair and bright blue eyes.  She wore a midnight blue dress that complemented her olive skin perfectly.

"Can I help you?" Her melodic voice questioned cutting through Race's dumbstruck state.  Blinking his eyes, he collected himself standing a bit straighter and prouder. 

"Yeah ya sure can. I-I mean yes, yes."

"With…" She searched.

"I…I'm looking for Gino, Gino Pasini."

"Is he expecting you?"  She drilled crossing her arms while leaning into the doorframe.  Anthony became slightly panicked while he wondered if he should have written or phoned the man before just showing up on his doorstep about 5 years too late.  The girl eyed him curiously as he stood there nervously contemplating whether or not he should leave.

"Well come in already it's cold out and you don't want to keep Gino waiting."

            She stepped aside to let him in the building, which to his surprise housed a grand carousel.  The floor was hardwood and carts covered it, selling everything from popcorn to cotton candy.  There was an area for face painting, puppet shows, and palm readings.  In the coroner sat a phonograph.  It appeared to be an indoor carnival for children.

"Gino's in the apartment upstairs."  A smile crept upon her face.  "What? You didn't think he survived on conning alone did you? Even he knows you have to have something to fall back on."  She laughed. 

"Well ya I knew that, but…but…wow."  Giggling the girl led him up the stairs and through the apartment to a small office.  "Gino there's a guy here ta see ya!"  

The ruffling of papers and slamming of drawers could be detected through the thick oak door.  "You can send him in now!"  Came the reply momentarily.

The girl motioned him in before turning to leave.  Seeing his nervous expression she laughed. "Don't worry he won't bite ya.  I've got to go downstairs and open the house now.  Trust me you'll be ok."

Racetrack watched her retreating form with envy wishing it were him.  He decided to treat this meeting as though it were with Spot, confidently and seriously.  This wasn't so hard, all he had to do was go in there say who he was and ask for help, nothin' to it.  He was a newsie God damn it he could handle anything!  They didn't call him Racetrack for nothing! 

            Slowly he turned to face the large oak door once again with his regained confidence.  His hand reached for the knob, he swung the door open and marched in.  The room was a dark shade of green with a skylight as the only source of light.  Slamming the door closed behind him, Race surveyed the area.  There was a fine wooden coat rack in the corner and a large bookcase along the wall.  In the center of the room stood a large ebony desk, a leather chair sat behind it facing the opposite wall, which was adorned a painting of New York City.  Two more leather chairs sat before the desk giving the room a greater office appeal.  

"About time you decided to come in." Snapped a deep voice from behind the first chair.  "Have a seat, make yourself at home.  Now, what can I do you for?"

"My name's Anthony Higgins, Mr. Pasini."  Racetrack started as he settled into one of the chairs.  "My father was Patrick Higgins, your uh partner.  He gave me your card and said to find you if I needed help."

"What kind of help are you looking for?"

"Well as you know my parents were murdered, and well…" He trailed off.

"You want revenge?"

"More or less."

"Well forget it, I don't do murders. I'm a con artist so was your father.  One of the best men I've ever worked with or known and don't you forget that."

"You don't understand Mr. Pasini I don't want to kill these people I just want to take away everything they know.  So I was thinking I'd come to you and learn the trade.  The murders are rich men all's we have to do is con away all their money."

"How could you possibly know who the cooperates are? Not even the police could figure it out?"

"I was there sir, I saw everything."

"Even so… well what kind of experience do you have? What have you been doing all these years?"

"I'm a newsie sir."

"Hmmm… Say I decide to help you gotta know this, I ain't talkin' chump change here, I'm talkin' the real deal.  Understand boy?  You need three things to make it in this business can you handle it?"

"What do I need then? How can I make it?"

"First ya need money…"

"Ok, I can work on that, what else?"

"Work on? I ain't kiddin' this is the big times kid; there is no working on nothing.  Now do you got the money or not? You think this is a joke?"

"Naw, I'se just tight on money that's all. What else do I need to know?"

"Uh-uh, ya can't get ta second base till ya get ta first.  I'm telling you for the last time Anthony, these are the big times it's no joke.  Now I don't want to see your face again till you have some real dough."

            Race's face fell and his heart seemed to stop, he'd screwed up his chance to get to the top of the game.  He had thought for sure he'd be accepted, but no he was a newsie and that wasn't good enough!

"Look Anthony, I like your spirit and I'd like to help you but you have to understand the seriousness of this business.  You're more like your father than you'd think and I promised him I'd do anything to help you."

"Yeah right."  Race muttered as he stood and ran from the room.  The girl was busy selling tickets at the large red doors.  As he rapidly approached her she smiled warmly. 

"How'd it go?" She began before he brushed past her fury and betrayal etched into his features. 

"Hey!  Wait! You dropped this!"  She called after his withdrawing figure.  Glancing down at the object in her hand she saw an old family photo slightly yellowed at the corners.  There were six children surrounding the parents, four boys and two girls.  The backside read Patrick and Lucia Higgins and family.  Gasping the girl pocketed the photo resuming her sales.  

~*~

A/N:  Wow am I getting longer with these chapters or what!  I was gonna make this one longer too but I figure I'll just make that part of the second chapter, so I hope you liked it and please review!  Even if you absolutely hate it I wanna know so I can make it better.  Alright well I'm kinda tired and stuff so write later!

                                                                                    ~SaL