By SaL
Chapter Three: BustedA/N: Ok, so wow I'm really on a writing streak here! I guess that's partly cuz there's nothing on TV but war and basketball. So here we go let's get this chapter started already!
~*~
Racetrack and Gina strolled toward Manhattan in comfortable silence. As they neared the baseball field Race noticed a sign that read:
Ball Boy Needed!
Saturday and Sunday 12:00pm-7:00pm
$3 payment on Sundays
Grinning, he tore the flyer from the fence and ran to the building indicated on the sheet. As the two entered a man looked up from his desk. "Can I help you young man?" he inquired. "I'm your new ball boy" Race stated matter-o-factly. They stared at him curiously before holding a short interview. When he left Race was told to report to the field Saturday afternoon, as he was the first boy to respond.
"Why did you just do that? I thought you were a newsie?" Gina asked dazed, it had all happened so fast.
"For your information I just solved all my money problems. I can sell the morning papes on weekends and then go to the ball field to make an extra 3 dollars. Think about it, if I peddle 100 papes a day that means I make a dollar a day so by Sunday I'll have made 6 dollars add in three more and that's 9. 9 dollars a week! Can you believe that! And even more when the headline's good. Now I know that ain't the kind a dough your pop's talking about but I can easily triple even quadruple it at the tracks or in a game of cards!"
Race rambled on excitedly as they neared Manhattan and said their goodbyes.
~*~
*Two weeks later*
Over the past couple of weeks the newsies began noticing a great change in Racetrack's routine to which they all attributed to the mood swing and mysterious girl who'd showed up two weeks before. They'd all question him on it but his answers were always evasive, cleverly skirting the questions and changing the subject.
He hadn't told anyone why his mood had changed so abruptly or where he'd been on the weekends when they met at Tibby's. No one knew how he was getting all his money but they had their suspicions.
"Where could he be! Dis is da third week in a row now!" Mush exclaimed as he entered Tibby's on Saturday afternoon.
"You got me. I've asked him what he's been up to and all he says 'Say how bout dem Yankees?'" Specs spieled. "Since when has he cared bout baseball anyways?"
A murmur of agreement spread through the restaurant before Snipeshooter spoke up.
"And how's he makin' all that money anyhow? Not at the tracks alone. Just the other day he gave me my own cigar pack! A gift he says, for loosing his temper on me."
"Well I don't know what the hell he's be up to but we've gotta do something! This is beginning to get way out of hand!" Specs commented.
"I agree" Jack put in, "He comes in late on weekends and he's been workin' so hard sellin' papes that he barley gets enough sleep."
"What do we do?" asked Mush.
Just then Hotshot entered the diner taking a seat beside Specs. He gave he a quick kiss on the cheek wrapping his arms around her as she leaned into him. "What ya boys up ta?"
"Nothin' just talkin' bout Race and how strange he's bein'"
"Oh Race! I just ran into him he was on his way somewhere and in a hurry too."
"Where was he going?" Snipeshooter asked.
"Oh, I wasn't really payin' attention to that. So, yeah he's supposed to meet me at the tracks tomorrow there's these new horses from Texas that are racing here but they're only staying for the weekend before they travel to the text city."
"And he hasn't seen em yet!" Snitch cried out. "I can't believe it! He's really not acting like himself."
"Don't worry boys whatever's goin' on with our Race I'll get it out of him."
"We've tried that already, he won't say." Jack said.
"Yeah! What makes you think he'll tell you'se?!" Skittery retorted eyeing her skeptically. Hotshot merely smirked, taking a sip of Specs' drink. "Sometimes all's it need is a woman's touch." She replied before scarfing down some of Specs' food never giving him a chance.
"So? What makes you think he'll tell you'se?"
"You better watch yourself boy! You don't want to tango with her, trust me I'm speaking from experience here, she'll kill ya." Spec's warned earning him a dope slap from his feasting girlfriend. Glaring, he released her and shoved her out of the seat nearly saving the last bits of his meal. Hotshot only pushed him back stealing the rest of his drink.
"You sneaky little thief!" cried Specs, "You stole my lunch!"
"So? What are ya gonna do about it?" Hotshot demanded while sticking her tong out. "This!" And before she could react Specs had pinned her to the booth and tickled her senseless. "Hey!" she laughed, "That's not fair!"
~*~
On Sunday afternoon Hotshot stood at the entrance to the racetracks. She had dressed up a bit for the event in a simple green skirt and blouse. Race was ten minuets late and Hotshot was starting to loose her temper. If he didn't show up soon she'd kill him! She'd wore a skirt and everything!
Just as those thoughts ran through her mind, she spotted Race running down the street. "It's about time." She muttered. But much to her surprise Race ran straight past her. "Ok-ay" she drawled "Maybe he didn't see me?" When he didn't stop and join her she knew something was up, Race wasn't the kind to ditch people. Race continued down to the ball field and his second job with Hotshot close on his trail.
When he entered the ballpark, Hotshot stopped dead in her tracks. 'Ok' She thought, 'something is definitely not right here. Racetrack, at the ballpark over the tracks? Never thought I'd see the day.' She walked a little ways off to a deserted section before jumping the fence and running to the field. Upon entering, she emerged into a mob of people instantly becoming swallowed by the crowd.
"Damn! I lost Racetrack!" Hotshot muttered from her position in the bleachers. Finally after much debating she decided to sit down and watch the game. She was there, it was free, and she'd yet t find her prey. Soon she became entranced by the game rooting for the Yankees and screaming her lungs off. By the bottom of the fourth, the game was tied and the bases were loaded and the Yankees needed one more run to win the game. Robinson was up, the first pitch was a swing and a miss. "Come on Robinson! Keep your eyes on the ball!" Hotshot yelled.
Robinson cracked the bat on the next pitch sending it into a high in the sky, over the wall grand slam. The teams switched up for the last time before the game would be over. The crowd held their breaths knowing the Yankees would need to strike all of the batters to ensure their win. A ball boy was sent out onto the field with a new ball, he'd been there all night and Hotshot had thought he seemed familiar but she couldn't get a good look at his face. As he turned to jog toward the dugout a strong wind blew off his cap revealing his face. Hotshot gasped then pointed at the boy and burst out laughing ignoring the looks the silent fans were shooting at her. "Shhhh!" They hissed. Racetrack had hear the noise and scanned the bleachers for the culprit. "Awww shit!" He exclaimed wide eyed as he saw Hotshot doubled over in laughter, he'd been found out.
It had been a disappointment when the game came to an end for the other team scored four more runs before it ended. For two particular the last moments of had been, well nothing short of eventful. Racetrack slowly signed out receiving his payment dreading facing Hotshot. He'd hoped she'd left already but sure enough as he exited there she was, waiting for him. They just stood there staring at each other Race looking guilty and Hotshot with a huge grin plastered upon her face. She'd broken the silence first with sputters of laughter. When she'd collected herself she exclaimed, "You! Ball boy! Oh man this is priceless!"
"What are you doing here!"
"Well incase you forgot you were supposed to meet me at the tracks today and when you finally showed you ran right past me so I did what any sane person would, I followed you."
"Damn! I forgot all about that!"
"I know."
The two began walking back to Manhattan while Hotshot attempted, unsuccessfully, to control her laughter. When they had reached the lodging house Racetrack stopped and turned to his friend with a pleading look.
"You won't say anything right?"
"Why not?"
"Just don't ok?" She nodded and the two entered the building. However, right when the duo entered the bunkroom Hotshot couldn't hold it in any more. "Oh my God guys you'll never guess what Race's been up to!" His eyes grew larger as his cheeks reddened while the entire room turned their attention to the girl. "What!" they cried anxiously. "He's" She began, "He's a ball boy!" With that she'd lost control yet again and had to lean against Specs to keep from falling to the floor with laughter.
"You mean like in baseball!" Mush cried out. "Racetrack! A ball boy!" The newsies soon got over their shock initiating roaring laughter throughout the room.
"Hotshot you promised!" Race whined.
"Hey I never said nothin' sides I it was killin' me inside I just had to let it out. You should no better than to ask me to keep something as good as that a secret!"
Sighing, the boy plummeted head first onto his bunk not even bothering to defend himself. He knew he'd never be able to live that one down, all he could do now was close his eyes and hope it'd die down by morning.
~*~
A/N: Did you really think I'd let the Yankees win? You did? Don't you know I'm like a Boston person? I mean no offence but really, Yankees suck! (I love Nomar!) Yankees might not have been started then I don't really know for sure but I know they existed in the early 90's. So Jackie Robinson probably didn't exist either. But Robinson was a Red Sox first so ha! You're welcome Yankees! He was traded so the stupid owners could have their club or what ever it was they had. So anyway back to the story, this chapter was kinda poorly written and I apologize for that, I need a bigger vocabulary and I probably should have gone more in depth but I'm not gonna sorry. I really don't have the patience for that stuff. Please, please review! You know you wanna!
