Chapter 17:
We went to bed after our conversation without another word. I said we went to bed, but never said we slept. Not that we did anything, but sleep didn't come easy that night. I guess I did eventually sleep, because to wake up, you must have been asleep.
"Hey, Mandy. How'd ya sleep?" Ink asked, shaking me slightly.
"On me back, Ink," I replied groggily. Where have I heard that line before? Hm, is this another newsie moment?
"Any new ideas about why all dis has happened?" He asked. I just shook my head. He yanked the blankets off of me and I sat up. "What? Ya tink I's jus' gonna let ya sleep the day away? Git up, we gots woik ta do."
"That's my cigar. . ." I started singing. I'm starting to get this, these are the newsies from the movie, and then some. Why shouldn't I sing the songs? But Baby wasn't there to say, 'You'll steel anuda', so I was left hanging.
"What's dat you was singin'?" Jack asked. I guess he stayed here last night, I hadn't noticed. "Sounds. . .familiar." At that I sang the first line of Santa Fe. "So's dat."
"Oh, it's notin'," I said, laghing at the fact that he actually recognized the song.
"We continued getting ready, which didn't take that long, and went and got our papers. Ink and I ran into Tuck an' Baby later. We wandered around Brooklyn aimlessly voicing our thoughts.
"Maybe one a my parents was from one time an' da other from da other," Tuck said at some point.
"I've never looked at it like that, but if that were it, why was that parent hoppin'?" I replied. It could have made a lot of sense, if it didn't lack that missing piece. "We'd have ta find him or her."
Tuck backed down from that theory. I honestly don't think she wants to find her family. We turned a corner and saw Spot and Boidie and Little Bit ahead of us, walking in our direction.
"A pair a new shoes wit' matchin' laces," I started.
"A poimanent box at da Sheep's Head races," Baby continued, and to our shock, Spot sang his part.
"A porcelain tub wit' boilin' water," he sang, just like in the movie.
"A Sataday. . ." Baby cut herself off at that. "Spot, how'd ya know da next line?"
"I dunno," he said nonchalantly, "It came ta me in a dream." God that's creepy. Baby and me looked at each other, worried a bit.
"What does knowing the woids to a song got ta do wit' anytin?" Ink asked, confused.
"The song doesn't exist yet." Simple. It won't be made for 92 years. That is odd.
"What do ya mean? Doesn't exist. You was singin' it wasn't you?" Spot looked at us and suddenly remembered that we're from 2004. "Oh, forgot that."
"Baby, I need ta talk ta you," I said.
"Okay, talk," she replied. Idget.
"Over dere," I said, pulling her rather than pointing. "This can't be good," I said when we got there. "Something is seriously wrong with this picture. They shouldn't know these songs."
"And? What, it's not like there's a rip in time," she said assuringly. "Right?" she said again, looking for reassurance.
"I don't know. All I know is that this should not be happening. None of it."
"Shit!" I looked at her with confusion. "Your accent, clothes, it's the year 2004. I think."
"Crap. It seems like every time something big happens we get thrown around time zones." I looked around, there were some guys that looked like gang members deeper in the alley. "We should go."
We walked out of the alley and immediately looked down the street for everybody else. They were gone. A trashcan behind us clanged.
"Run guys," Tuck yelled. The guys had heard the can fall over and saw us. You can guess who they were. My throat still hurt from our last encounter.
We ran, they perused. I guess this is getting pretty routine. We fly to the now, run into thugs, run away from thugs. OK, we can do the next thing in the routine, get saved from thugs.
"Three, two, one," Tuck counted down slowly, then grabbed my arm and yanked me into an alley. I grabbed onto Baby and pulled her along with us.
"What are you doing?" Baby asked.
"I know these streets a lot better than you," Tuck said. "What would you do without me?" she asked, grabbing onto a ladder that led to a fire escape. It didn't come down as expected, but she pulled herself up. I helped Baby up, and followed quickly after. I knew cheerleading would come in handy.
"So, do you actually know those guys?" I asked when I figured it was safe to talk.
"I think one of them is affected by the hop, too. I've seen him in both times." I stared at her. Another one? This is impossible. "His name is Delancy, I think."
"Delancy?" Baby and I asked at the same time.
"Yeah, you recognize the name?" I sure as hell recognize that name.
___________________~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~____________________
OK, so I need to apologize for the lack of update. Major lack. I blame writers block. I blame Ink for my writer's block. Is all his fault. And the game that was played at banquet, but let's not go into detail. A lot has happened in my life. I couldn't think of newsies because newsies leads to my fanfic leads to Ink leads to all the things I hate him for. Also, I was a bit discouraged by the number of reviews. I live off them, don't you understand that? I told you about my lack of life, right? And, at the moment, I need someone to talk to about the bad things that have happened, so if you feel sympathetic, please e-mail me. This chapter was torcher to type, believe me. I had to wait till my parents left the house (my grades suck and I'm grounded cuz of them). On top of that, there's the whole Ink problem. Please review.
Klover, of course I love your reviews. They're so cut and funny and make me feel happy even when I'm coming to the sad realization that Ink will never like me.
Little Bit, Sorry, I know you was supposed ta write this chapter, but you take too long. Maybe next time I have writer's block. If it's ice-cream of the future, why are we eating it now? Are we noticing a relation to my fic and dippin' dots?
And, you should all go read A Break In Time by Kate Lawrence. It's really good.
We went to bed after our conversation without another word. I said we went to bed, but never said we slept. Not that we did anything, but sleep didn't come easy that night. I guess I did eventually sleep, because to wake up, you must have been asleep.
"Hey, Mandy. How'd ya sleep?" Ink asked, shaking me slightly.
"On me back, Ink," I replied groggily. Where have I heard that line before? Hm, is this another newsie moment?
"Any new ideas about why all dis has happened?" He asked. I just shook my head. He yanked the blankets off of me and I sat up. "What? Ya tink I's jus' gonna let ya sleep the day away? Git up, we gots woik ta do."
"That's my cigar. . ." I started singing. I'm starting to get this, these are the newsies from the movie, and then some. Why shouldn't I sing the songs? But Baby wasn't there to say, 'You'll steel anuda', so I was left hanging.
"What's dat you was singin'?" Jack asked. I guess he stayed here last night, I hadn't noticed. "Sounds. . .familiar." At that I sang the first line of Santa Fe. "So's dat."
"Oh, it's notin'," I said, laghing at the fact that he actually recognized the song.
"We continued getting ready, which didn't take that long, and went and got our papers. Ink and I ran into Tuck an' Baby later. We wandered around Brooklyn aimlessly voicing our thoughts.
"Maybe one a my parents was from one time an' da other from da other," Tuck said at some point.
"I've never looked at it like that, but if that were it, why was that parent hoppin'?" I replied. It could have made a lot of sense, if it didn't lack that missing piece. "We'd have ta find him or her."
Tuck backed down from that theory. I honestly don't think she wants to find her family. We turned a corner and saw Spot and Boidie and Little Bit ahead of us, walking in our direction.
"A pair a new shoes wit' matchin' laces," I started.
"A poimanent box at da Sheep's Head races," Baby continued, and to our shock, Spot sang his part.
"A porcelain tub wit' boilin' water," he sang, just like in the movie.
"A Sataday. . ." Baby cut herself off at that. "Spot, how'd ya know da next line?"
"I dunno," he said nonchalantly, "It came ta me in a dream." God that's creepy. Baby and me looked at each other, worried a bit.
"What does knowing the woids to a song got ta do wit' anytin?" Ink asked, confused.
"The song doesn't exist yet." Simple. It won't be made for 92 years. That is odd.
"What do ya mean? Doesn't exist. You was singin' it wasn't you?" Spot looked at us and suddenly remembered that we're from 2004. "Oh, forgot that."
"Baby, I need ta talk ta you," I said.
"Okay, talk," she replied. Idget.
"Over dere," I said, pulling her rather than pointing. "This can't be good," I said when we got there. "Something is seriously wrong with this picture. They shouldn't know these songs."
"And? What, it's not like there's a rip in time," she said assuringly. "Right?" she said again, looking for reassurance.
"I don't know. All I know is that this should not be happening. None of it."
"Shit!" I looked at her with confusion. "Your accent, clothes, it's the year 2004. I think."
"Crap. It seems like every time something big happens we get thrown around time zones." I looked around, there were some guys that looked like gang members deeper in the alley. "We should go."
We walked out of the alley and immediately looked down the street for everybody else. They were gone. A trashcan behind us clanged.
"Run guys," Tuck yelled. The guys had heard the can fall over and saw us. You can guess who they were. My throat still hurt from our last encounter.
We ran, they perused. I guess this is getting pretty routine. We fly to the now, run into thugs, run away from thugs. OK, we can do the next thing in the routine, get saved from thugs.
"Three, two, one," Tuck counted down slowly, then grabbed my arm and yanked me into an alley. I grabbed onto Baby and pulled her along with us.
"What are you doing?" Baby asked.
"I know these streets a lot better than you," Tuck said. "What would you do without me?" she asked, grabbing onto a ladder that led to a fire escape. It didn't come down as expected, but she pulled herself up. I helped Baby up, and followed quickly after. I knew cheerleading would come in handy.
"So, do you actually know those guys?" I asked when I figured it was safe to talk.
"I think one of them is affected by the hop, too. I've seen him in both times." I stared at her. Another one? This is impossible. "His name is Delancy, I think."
"Delancy?" Baby and I asked at the same time.
"Yeah, you recognize the name?" I sure as hell recognize that name.
___________________~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~____________________
OK, so I need to apologize for the lack of update. Major lack. I blame writers block. I blame Ink for my writer's block. Is all his fault. And the game that was played at banquet, but let's not go into detail. A lot has happened in my life. I couldn't think of newsies because newsies leads to my fanfic leads to Ink leads to all the things I hate him for. Also, I was a bit discouraged by the number of reviews. I live off them, don't you understand that? I told you about my lack of life, right? And, at the moment, I need someone to talk to about the bad things that have happened, so if you feel sympathetic, please e-mail me. This chapter was torcher to type, believe me. I had to wait till my parents left the house (my grades suck and I'm grounded cuz of them). On top of that, there's the whole Ink problem. Please review.
Klover, of course I love your reviews. They're so cut and funny and make me feel happy even when I'm coming to the sad realization that Ink will never like me.
Little Bit, Sorry, I know you was supposed ta write this chapter, but you take too long. Maybe next time I have writer's block. If it's ice-cream of the future, why are we eating it now? Are we noticing a relation to my fic and dippin' dots?
And, you should all go read A Break In Time by Kate Lawrence. It's really good.
