Chapter 18:
"Delancey, he tried to kill Spot an' me once," I said after a shocked moment. Another link between past and future, who'd have thunk?
"Wait, so he is the same Delancey from the movie?" Baby asked and I nodded. "But I don't think he was marked under the real characters list."
"What movie?" Tuck asked, but we ignored her.
"Me neither. So that means he was never supposed to be then." That felt funny saying that. This is getting far too weird, but you never know. It could be all over now.
"What movie?" Again, we ignored Tuck.
"So he could be the cause of all this?" Baby said, shocked at our discovery. I nodded a yes and we all lapped into silence, broken by. . .
"WHAT MOVIE!" Tuck was hard to ignore this time. We were startled by her loud display.
"Newsies," I answer. This obviously doesn't ring a bell, so I continue, "It's a movie about the newsboy strike of 1899. It has a lot of the real newsies in it."
The look on Tuck's face was priceless. Just this "eh, duh" retarded look. I started laughing. Hard. I do that under pressure.
"What?" Baby said after a moment. By that point I was rolling around on the ground. I tried talking, but that made it worse. "OK, laugh, why don't ya. Just remember, we still don't know if this flipping rip in time is done. We could end up there any-"
Cut off by another hop. I see what she means. The problem with this one, there isn't the fire escape that there had been, just a bare wall.
"Shit, we're stuck." Well that was obvious. Tuck seemed to have a talent for stating the obvious.
"Hey, there they are!" a faint yell from the street bellow came. I recognize that voice. . .
"Klover?!?" There was a flash of recognition from the other two stranded girls, but that was it.
"Yes!" she called back up. It was good to hear that Irish accent. "How'd you get up there?"
"There was a fire escape, but then we hopped back and it was gone." I said calmly. Could Tuck and Baby offer no help?
"Ok then, we'll jist 'ave to git you down."
Before long we were back on the ground. That Klover has skills. She was able to pursued a resident of the apartment building we were perched upon to let us go through and down the stairs.
"So why were you up there in the first place?" Klover asked. We spent 20 minutes explaining all of what happened, and to my shock, she believed me.
"Delancey, you say?" she asked once we were finished. "I've never heard that name before."
"We have reason to believe he hops." Hadn't I already said that?
I heard a giggle coming from a nearby alley. Then I heard a guy laugh(the giggle had been female). As we came to it's opening, I peered in. I didn't like what I saw.
"You PIG!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. Never mind the pain of my half-healed throat, I was now suffering from the pain of a much deeper wound. I was suffering from a broken heart.
"Mandy, wait. I can explain," Ink yelled after me. I had already subconsciously started running. I didn't care where, just anywhere that wasn't here, or even now, if I could help it.
His footsteps were fast approaching mine. Damn, I hadn't anticipated his speed. I just pushed myself to go faster.
"It's not what you think," he whispered breathlessly. Had we not been running for a solid five minutes pushing ourselves to our full potential I was sure it would have been a yell. Then he did something quite unexpected.
He lunged, wrapping his long arms around my waist. We went down in a pile, in the middle of a street. I looked up just to see a speeding cart wiz by just in front of my face.
"You need to let me explain," he breathed under his breath.
"What's there to explain?" I questioned. We had both struggled to our feet. He reached out to put a reassuring hand on my cheek, but I slapped it away. "Go ta hell." I punched him squarely in the jaw, forcing him back a few steps and ultimately down onto the makeshift early 20th century sidewalk.
"I'm sorry," he said to me as I walked away. "It's not what you think."
"Oh yeah? Well if it ain't what I think, den you wouldn't be apologizing." I turned to look at him, just verifying that he had no answer, and saw the lone tear running down his face. "You made the mistake." I went off again, leaving my now ex-boyfriend crying on the pavement. Do I feel guilty?
"Not a chance," I whisper to myself. "No, he did this. And I was being stupid thinking that anyone would actually like me long enough to 'be together' for any measurable amount of time.
Spot was coming in my direction. 'Great,' I thought, 'Like I really need to deal with this now.' I started crying before he even got to me. I hadn't expected him to do what he did next. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and held me close to his chest, his height making him the perfect shoulder to cry on.
"It's OK, baby," he said, planting a small, tender kiss on the top of my head. "It's OK, baby." It took me the second time that he had said it for me to realize what he was saying. No, he's with Boidie, this can't happen.
"No," I said, pushing away from him. His arms reluctantly released me. "You," I paused, "are with Boidie. You can't do that." He just stared down at me in a way that told me that he was itching to have his arms around me again. "What is this? National cheat-on-your-girlfriend day?"
He stood there, silent. I turned, whipping my eyes, and started away. The reality of it all was hard-hitting. I just turned down an offer to be comforted by Spot Colin, the much sought after newsie of my group of the newsie-obsessed. And why? For fear of losing the friendship of a girl that already hates me. Damn I feel like an idiot today.
I walked, with no real destination. I can't go back to the Brooklyn LH. I've scared the crap out of the Manhattan newsies. There isn't a place to go. I looked up at a building as I passed it. I almost screamed with relief.
I walked in and asked the man at the desk if there were any empty bunks. He said yes, but I'd have the boys to deal with. I don't care about that at the moment. I ran up the stairs into the empty room of bunks and collapsed into among the first beds that didn't look occupied. I was dead asleep before I hit the pillow.
___________________LATER____________________
"Eh, goil." Someone was poking me in the ribs, trying to wake me. I groaned and rolled over to face my attacker. I screamed.
"OK, ok, Coffee, she's awake," some other boy two beds down said.
"Did ya know that you's asleep in me bed?" the one called Coffee asked after I had finished a good thirty-second scream.
"Um, no, I-I'm sorry," I stuttered a bit. "I thought it was empty."
"Well, it was when you went to sleep in it." I made no move to leave the bed. "So are ya gonna move. Or am I gonna 'ave ta sleep in da bed wit you?"
"I'm, uh, sorry." I scrambled out of the bed, wondering what had possessed me to sign into the Queens Newsboy LH? "Um, could you point out an empty bed?"
"Yeah, sure. But foist, what's your name?" He asked. I didn't really want to tell him, but couldn't find a logical reason not to.
"Mandy." He nodded and gave an approving grunt-type-thing, then pointed to the bed just next to his. I climbed in and hid beneath the thin covers. I fell asleep easily, despite the boys' movements and talking.
___________________DREAM SEQUENCE____________________
"NO, Ink, don't go!" I was screaming to a figure walking away from me. "Don't leave me!"
Then, suddenly, Ink was the one chasing me, and I was running. I couldn't be caught. I had to get away. But there was no escape.
"Mandy," a voice came. I was in another dream now, one of those classic foggy dreams. "Mandy, are you listening?" I recognize that voice. It's Tuck.
"Tuck? Where are we?" I question. "Why can't I see you?"
"I know everything. I can make it all end for you." What? Tuck knows what's going on? "All you have to do is ask. And trust this dream, you know more than you believe already."
That last line wasn't Tuck at all. It sounded like me. How could I know more than I know I know? Does Tuck really know what's going on?
"Now go. You can't stay here."
"Tell me more. I don't understand!" I yelled into the emptiness. The scene flickered into an image of Tuck and Delancey talking to each other. They were saying. . .
___________________________END SEQUENCE_________________________
"Rise an' shine, Mandy baby!" someone was saying. Then this someone started poking me in the ribs. I opened my eyes and the blur of the room slowly came into focus. "Dat's a good goil!"
"Coffee, right?" he nodded. He was short. I could tell that lying down. Probly fifteen-ish. Nice arms, I made a note of that. Very nice arms. He had a sort of coffee-and-crème complexion. 'so I guess that's where his name came from'.
"So, ya gonna sell da pape's?" he asked cautiously and I nodded. "Den ya bettah get up. They sell out fast in dese parts."
"Um, do ya think ya might be able ta show me around here?" I asked. "I'm not exactly from Queens."
"Sure I'll show ya around. You tell me your story, I'll tell ya mine, an' we can even make a few bucks doin' it. Sounds fun."
"How'd ya know I's gotta story?" I ask nervously, thinking that maybe he knows something about me.
"Here in Queens, we all gots a story. Normally dark, not like in Manhattan an' Brooklyn."
"Well, I'm not sure I'd want ta tell ya my story just yet. I mean, I don't know ya dat well."
"Dat's fine wit me. Now, hurry up, half da house is gone already."
I climbed stiffly out of the bed. How long had I run to get here? My legs hurt like hell.
"I's ready," I announced once I'd finally gotten my feet firmly on the ground. Without another word we left down the stairs and out the door, towards an opening in the wall with boys spilling out into the cobblestone street. "Ain't dere any goil newsies on dis side?" I wonder out loud.
"Nah, mostly deys all move ta Manhattan because that's a much nicer neighborhood. I recon you should probly do da same in da near future." What, run back to what I'm running from? I guess I can't hold it against him because he hasn't heard my story. I don't think he ever will.
"What, ya think I can't handle a little pressure?" I ask mockingly.
"You was runnin' from sometin' last night," he pointed out. "People don't run from a poifectly nice environment, do dey?"
"I guess you's right. I was runnin'. But it's different. It's. . ." He cuts me off.
"I bet it's a guy," he says without hesitation. By my dumbfounded look, I must have revealed that I had no idea how he knew. "Wit goils here, it's always a guy. Queens just happens ta be the direction they run in."
"What's most girls' stories?" I ask on a whim.
"What's your story?" is his response.
"I'm not tellin' just yet." The key word here being 'yet'.
___________________~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~____________________
Woohoo, long chapter. Worked me butt off ta write this baby, too. And, of course, all of this was written when inspiration struck there for completely screws over all of my future plans. I think the fun will be in trying to write this mess back into where it should be.
Now, I apologize again for not updating for so long*ducks from friends' rotten fruit*(damn there poifect aim). I've been grounded (still am, mind you) and having writer's block on top of that. And to add to this whole mess, there have been problems involving the real Ink(my falling out of obsession with him). I am emotionally tied up and probably getting myself royally in trouble , all for you guys!
Please send reviews. Do I really have to repeat that I love reviews and need them to live? Well, good or bad. And I am aware that this chapter got the plot nowhere, but hey, what's wrong with a little drama? OK, love you all. TTFN.
"Delancey, he tried to kill Spot an' me once," I said after a shocked moment. Another link between past and future, who'd have thunk?
"Wait, so he is the same Delancey from the movie?" Baby asked and I nodded. "But I don't think he was marked under the real characters list."
"What movie?" Tuck asked, but we ignored her.
"Me neither. So that means he was never supposed to be then." That felt funny saying that. This is getting far too weird, but you never know. It could be all over now.
"What movie?" Again, we ignored Tuck.
"So he could be the cause of all this?" Baby said, shocked at our discovery. I nodded a yes and we all lapped into silence, broken by. . .
"WHAT MOVIE!" Tuck was hard to ignore this time. We were startled by her loud display.
"Newsies," I answer. This obviously doesn't ring a bell, so I continue, "It's a movie about the newsboy strike of 1899. It has a lot of the real newsies in it."
The look on Tuck's face was priceless. Just this "eh, duh" retarded look. I started laughing. Hard. I do that under pressure.
"What?" Baby said after a moment. By that point I was rolling around on the ground. I tried talking, but that made it worse. "OK, laugh, why don't ya. Just remember, we still don't know if this flipping rip in time is done. We could end up there any-"
Cut off by another hop. I see what she means. The problem with this one, there isn't the fire escape that there had been, just a bare wall.
"Shit, we're stuck." Well that was obvious. Tuck seemed to have a talent for stating the obvious.
"Hey, there they are!" a faint yell from the street bellow came. I recognize that voice. . .
"Klover?!?" There was a flash of recognition from the other two stranded girls, but that was it.
"Yes!" she called back up. It was good to hear that Irish accent. "How'd you get up there?"
"There was a fire escape, but then we hopped back and it was gone." I said calmly. Could Tuck and Baby offer no help?
"Ok then, we'll jist 'ave to git you down."
Before long we were back on the ground. That Klover has skills. She was able to pursued a resident of the apartment building we were perched upon to let us go through and down the stairs.
"So why were you up there in the first place?" Klover asked. We spent 20 minutes explaining all of what happened, and to my shock, she believed me.
"Delancey, you say?" she asked once we were finished. "I've never heard that name before."
"We have reason to believe he hops." Hadn't I already said that?
I heard a giggle coming from a nearby alley. Then I heard a guy laugh(the giggle had been female). As we came to it's opening, I peered in. I didn't like what I saw.
"You PIG!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. Never mind the pain of my half-healed throat, I was now suffering from the pain of a much deeper wound. I was suffering from a broken heart.
"Mandy, wait. I can explain," Ink yelled after me. I had already subconsciously started running. I didn't care where, just anywhere that wasn't here, or even now, if I could help it.
His footsteps were fast approaching mine. Damn, I hadn't anticipated his speed. I just pushed myself to go faster.
"It's not what you think," he whispered breathlessly. Had we not been running for a solid five minutes pushing ourselves to our full potential I was sure it would have been a yell. Then he did something quite unexpected.
He lunged, wrapping his long arms around my waist. We went down in a pile, in the middle of a street. I looked up just to see a speeding cart wiz by just in front of my face.
"You need to let me explain," he breathed under his breath.
"What's there to explain?" I questioned. We had both struggled to our feet. He reached out to put a reassuring hand on my cheek, but I slapped it away. "Go ta hell." I punched him squarely in the jaw, forcing him back a few steps and ultimately down onto the makeshift early 20th century sidewalk.
"I'm sorry," he said to me as I walked away. "It's not what you think."
"Oh yeah? Well if it ain't what I think, den you wouldn't be apologizing." I turned to look at him, just verifying that he had no answer, and saw the lone tear running down his face. "You made the mistake." I went off again, leaving my now ex-boyfriend crying on the pavement. Do I feel guilty?
"Not a chance," I whisper to myself. "No, he did this. And I was being stupid thinking that anyone would actually like me long enough to 'be together' for any measurable amount of time.
Spot was coming in my direction. 'Great,' I thought, 'Like I really need to deal with this now.' I started crying before he even got to me. I hadn't expected him to do what he did next. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and held me close to his chest, his height making him the perfect shoulder to cry on.
"It's OK, baby," he said, planting a small, tender kiss on the top of my head. "It's OK, baby." It took me the second time that he had said it for me to realize what he was saying. No, he's with Boidie, this can't happen.
"No," I said, pushing away from him. His arms reluctantly released me. "You," I paused, "are with Boidie. You can't do that." He just stared down at me in a way that told me that he was itching to have his arms around me again. "What is this? National cheat-on-your-girlfriend day?"
He stood there, silent. I turned, whipping my eyes, and started away. The reality of it all was hard-hitting. I just turned down an offer to be comforted by Spot Colin, the much sought after newsie of my group of the newsie-obsessed. And why? For fear of losing the friendship of a girl that already hates me. Damn I feel like an idiot today.
I walked, with no real destination. I can't go back to the Brooklyn LH. I've scared the crap out of the Manhattan newsies. There isn't a place to go. I looked up at a building as I passed it. I almost screamed with relief.
I walked in and asked the man at the desk if there were any empty bunks. He said yes, but I'd have the boys to deal with. I don't care about that at the moment. I ran up the stairs into the empty room of bunks and collapsed into among the first beds that didn't look occupied. I was dead asleep before I hit the pillow.
___________________LATER____________________
"Eh, goil." Someone was poking me in the ribs, trying to wake me. I groaned and rolled over to face my attacker. I screamed.
"OK, ok, Coffee, she's awake," some other boy two beds down said.
"Did ya know that you's asleep in me bed?" the one called Coffee asked after I had finished a good thirty-second scream.
"Um, no, I-I'm sorry," I stuttered a bit. "I thought it was empty."
"Well, it was when you went to sleep in it." I made no move to leave the bed. "So are ya gonna move. Or am I gonna 'ave ta sleep in da bed wit you?"
"I'm, uh, sorry." I scrambled out of the bed, wondering what had possessed me to sign into the Queens Newsboy LH? "Um, could you point out an empty bed?"
"Yeah, sure. But foist, what's your name?" He asked. I didn't really want to tell him, but couldn't find a logical reason not to.
"Mandy." He nodded and gave an approving grunt-type-thing, then pointed to the bed just next to his. I climbed in and hid beneath the thin covers. I fell asleep easily, despite the boys' movements and talking.
___________________DREAM SEQUENCE____________________
"NO, Ink, don't go!" I was screaming to a figure walking away from me. "Don't leave me!"
Then, suddenly, Ink was the one chasing me, and I was running. I couldn't be caught. I had to get away. But there was no escape.
"Mandy," a voice came. I was in another dream now, one of those classic foggy dreams. "Mandy, are you listening?" I recognize that voice. It's Tuck.
"Tuck? Where are we?" I question. "Why can't I see you?"
"I know everything. I can make it all end for you." What? Tuck knows what's going on? "All you have to do is ask. And trust this dream, you know more than you believe already."
That last line wasn't Tuck at all. It sounded like me. How could I know more than I know I know? Does Tuck really know what's going on?
"Now go. You can't stay here."
"Tell me more. I don't understand!" I yelled into the emptiness. The scene flickered into an image of Tuck and Delancey talking to each other. They were saying. . .
___________________________END SEQUENCE_________________________
"Rise an' shine, Mandy baby!" someone was saying. Then this someone started poking me in the ribs. I opened my eyes and the blur of the room slowly came into focus. "Dat's a good goil!"
"Coffee, right?" he nodded. He was short. I could tell that lying down. Probly fifteen-ish. Nice arms, I made a note of that. Very nice arms. He had a sort of coffee-and-crème complexion. 'so I guess that's where his name came from'.
"So, ya gonna sell da pape's?" he asked cautiously and I nodded. "Den ya bettah get up. They sell out fast in dese parts."
"Um, do ya think ya might be able ta show me around here?" I asked. "I'm not exactly from Queens."
"Sure I'll show ya around. You tell me your story, I'll tell ya mine, an' we can even make a few bucks doin' it. Sounds fun."
"How'd ya know I's gotta story?" I ask nervously, thinking that maybe he knows something about me.
"Here in Queens, we all gots a story. Normally dark, not like in Manhattan an' Brooklyn."
"Well, I'm not sure I'd want ta tell ya my story just yet. I mean, I don't know ya dat well."
"Dat's fine wit me. Now, hurry up, half da house is gone already."
I climbed stiffly out of the bed. How long had I run to get here? My legs hurt like hell.
"I's ready," I announced once I'd finally gotten my feet firmly on the ground. Without another word we left down the stairs and out the door, towards an opening in the wall with boys spilling out into the cobblestone street. "Ain't dere any goil newsies on dis side?" I wonder out loud.
"Nah, mostly deys all move ta Manhattan because that's a much nicer neighborhood. I recon you should probly do da same in da near future." What, run back to what I'm running from? I guess I can't hold it against him because he hasn't heard my story. I don't think he ever will.
"What, ya think I can't handle a little pressure?" I ask mockingly.
"You was runnin' from sometin' last night," he pointed out. "People don't run from a poifectly nice environment, do dey?"
"I guess you's right. I was runnin'. But it's different. It's. . ." He cuts me off.
"I bet it's a guy," he says without hesitation. By my dumbfounded look, I must have revealed that I had no idea how he knew. "Wit goils here, it's always a guy. Queens just happens ta be the direction they run in."
"What's most girls' stories?" I ask on a whim.
"What's your story?" is his response.
"I'm not tellin' just yet." The key word here being 'yet'.
___________________~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~____________________
Woohoo, long chapter. Worked me butt off ta write this baby, too. And, of course, all of this was written when inspiration struck there for completely screws over all of my future plans. I think the fun will be in trying to write this mess back into where it should be.
Now, I apologize again for not updating for so long*ducks from friends' rotten fruit*(damn there poifect aim). I've been grounded (still am, mind you) and having writer's block on top of that. And to add to this whole mess, there have been problems involving the real Ink(my falling out of obsession with him). I am emotionally tied up and probably getting myself royally in trouble , all for you guys!
Please send reviews. Do I really have to repeat that I love reviews and need them to live? Well, good or bad. And I am aware that this chapter got the plot nowhere, but hey, what's wrong with a little drama? OK, love you all. TTFN.
