Disclaimer: As much as it pains me to admit it, I do not own Newsies.
Jack and I went upstairs to the bunkroom and shut the door. I sat down on my bed and picked up a cigar. After all, if I was going to tell the story of my life, I should at least be comfortable.
Jack sat down on the bunk next to me. And there he sits, watching me expectantly.
Now that I was telling someone what happened, I didn't really know where to start.
"Uh, Jack," I looked over at him. "Where should I start?"
"The beginning."
Now that was helpful.
"Well, uh, that makes sense. Here goes." Why am I nervous, I'm just talking. "Would you stop staring at me like that, it's making me nervous!"
I'm not stalling, really. It's just hard to say everything.
"Race."
"Yeah Jack?"
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Oh look at that. His concerned look changed. Now it's more of a supportive sympathy look.
"No Jack, I told you I'd tell you the whole thing." I look at him and he looks away. It's a lot easier to talk without someone staring at you.
"For the first eight years of my life I lived with my parents. I couldn't have asked for anyone better. They loved me and my little sister who was two years younger than me." I smiled, remembering how happy those years had been.
We weren't rich, but we had food to eat and a place to stay. My dad gambled. No, he never lost more than we could afford, so no, he never landed us on the streets. He taught me to play poker too," I paused. There is no way I'm going to get sniffly in front him. "Then, both my parents and my little sister died in the influenza outbreak." But they're in a better place now, I remind myself.
I took a long puff on my cigar. If Jack wanted to hear what happened, he would hear it at my pace.
"My uncle stepped forward and said he would take care of me. He had risen higher in life, so it took some getting used to. Not the bad kind of getting use to, it was just different. There was more of just about everything. Now, my uncle, he loved me and he hated me. He loved me because I was his sister's son. He hated me because I was his sister's husband's son.
He never approved of my dad because my dad gambled. He always said gambling was a sin. My father had already instilled in me a love of gambling and my uncle saw fit to try and beat it out of me. So every Sunday, and on Christmas and Easter he would remind me of it."
I paused again as memories flooded through my mind. The pain of the belt mingled with the smell of Christmas cookies.
I guess I stopped talking for long enough that even Jack knew I wasn't gathering my courage to continue on.
"Race?"
"Yeah?" Of course I meant to keep talking. I just didn't exactly realize that I had stopped.
"How long did you stay there?"
"Do you mind? I'm the one telling the story here." I blow some smoke at him.
He says nothing. I guess he can be quiet when he supposed to after all.
"But since you brought it up, I was there for less than a year. It's not that my uncle was cruel to me. He never did anything to me from Monday to Saturday. In fact, he was very kind, as if he was trying to make up for what he did to me. After all, he thought it was in my best interests."
Oh boy. Jack thinks I'm crazy. I can tell. But I don't hate him. I don't know why I don't, I probably should. I dislike him, yes, and I disagree with him, but I don't hate him. I can't.
"I ran away a few weeks after Easter and, well , you know the rest."
Jack looked at me. Again. "I thought you said you were eleven when you became a newsie."
Oh yeah, I had forgotten about that.
But nine is almost eleven.
"What can I say, I lied." Next time I lie, I'm going to remember it. Really.
"Why?"
"I dunno." I'm sure I had a reason at the time though. Probably something about being in trouble for running away from home. I'm not really sure anymore though, I was a crazy kid.
"Thanks for telling me, Race." He reaches out as if he was going to put his hand on my shoulder, but he stopped. Smart kid, he's learning.
"Well, thanks for listening." I answer while I finish up my cigar. "Come on, let's go back down stairs. Betcha a nickel Skittery hasn't woken up yet."
"Sure." He paused, a deep, meaningful pause. "You're sure your uncle doesn't bother you anymore?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. Now quit stalling, I know what you're doing. The longer you keep me talking the more likely it is you'll win the bet."
Now I find myself in bed, trying to fall asleep despite Blink's deafening snores. Please, someone, turn him over. I'd do it, but I don't want to get up.
And, yes, I'm a nickel richer.
AN: So Race's past is out of the bag. Yes, there is more coming. Soon (with any luck). ^_^;;
Many, many thanks to Legs(your review wasn't lame!), Thistle, and Funkiechick for reviewing the first chapter!
Also- to Tabloid, and again to Legs, Thistle, and Funkiechick for reviewing Laugh.
Dude- you guys are great!
Ah yes, again, review please!
Jack and I went upstairs to the bunkroom and shut the door. I sat down on my bed and picked up a cigar. After all, if I was going to tell the story of my life, I should at least be comfortable.
Jack sat down on the bunk next to me. And there he sits, watching me expectantly.
Now that I was telling someone what happened, I didn't really know where to start.
"Uh, Jack," I looked over at him. "Where should I start?"
"The beginning."
Now that was helpful.
"Well, uh, that makes sense. Here goes." Why am I nervous, I'm just talking. "Would you stop staring at me like that, it's making me nervous!"
I'm not stalling, really. It's just hard to say everything.
"Race."
"Yeah Jack?"
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Oh look at that. His concerned look changed. Now it's more of a supportive sympathy look.
"No Jack, I told you I'd tell you the whole thing." I look at him and he looks away. It's a lot easier to talk without someone staring at you.
"For the first eight years of my life I lived with my parents. I couldn't have asked for anyone better. They loved me and my little sister who was two years younger than me." I smiled, remembering how happy those years had been.
We weren't rich, but we had food to eat and a place to stay. My dad gambled. No, he never lost more than we could afford, so no, he never landed us on the streets. He taught me to play poker too," I paused. There is no way I'm going to get sniffly in front him. "Then, both my parents and my little sister died in the influenza outbreak." But they're in a better place now, I remind myself.
I took a long puff on my cigar. If Jack wanted to hear what happened, he would hear it at my pace.
"My uncle stepped forward and said he would take care of me. He had risen higher in life, so it took some getting used to. Not the bad kind of getting use to, it was just different. There was more of just about everything. Now, my uncle, he loved me and he hated me. He loved me because I was his sister's son. He hated me because I was his sister's husband's son.
He never approved of my dad because my dad gambled. He always said gambling was a sin. My father had already instilled in me a love of gambling and my uncle saw fit to try and beat it out of me. So every Sunday, and on Christmas and Easter he would remind me of it."
I paused again as memories flooded through my mind. The pain of the belt mingled with the smell of Christmas cookies.
I guess I stopped talking for long enough that even Jack knew I wasn't gathering my courage to continue on.
"Race?"
"Yeah?" Of course I meant to keep talking. I just didn't exactly realize that I had stopped.
"How long did you stay there?"
"Do you mind? I'm the one telling the story here." I blow some smoke at him.
He says nothing. I guess he can be quiet when he supposed to after all.
"But since you brought it up, I was there for less than a year. It's not that my uncle was cruel to me. He never did anything to me from Monday to Saturday. In fact, he was very kind, as if he was trying to make up for what he did to me. After all, he thought it was in my best interests."
Oh boy. Jack thinks I'm crazy. I can tell. But I don't hate him. I don't know why I don't, I probably should. I dislike him, yes, and I disagree with him, but I don't hate him. I can't.
"I ran away a few weeks after Easter and, well , you know the rest."
Jack looked at me. Again. "I thought you said you were eleven when you became a newsie."
Oh yeah, I had forgotten about that.
But nine is almost eleven.
"What can I say, I lied." Next time I lie, I'm going to remember it. Really.
"Why?"
"I dunno." I'm sure I had a reason at the time though. Probably something about being in trouble for running away from home. I'm not really sure anymore though, I was a crazy kid.
"Thanks for telling me, Race." He reaches out as if he was going to put his hand on my shoulder, but he stopped. Smart kid, he's learning.
"Well, thanks for listening." I answer while I finish up my cigar. "Come on, let's go back down stairs. Betcha a nickel Skittery hasn't woken up yet."
"Sure." He paused, a deep, meaningful pause. "You're sure your uncle doesn't bother you anymore?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. Now quit stalling, I know what you're doing. The longer you keep me talking the more likely it is you'll win the bet."
Now I find myself in bed, trying to fall asleep despite Blink's deafening snores. Please, someone, turn him over. I'd do it, but I don't want to get up.
And, yes, I'm a nickel richer.
AN: So Race's past is out of the bag. Yes, there is more coming. Soon (with any luck). ^_^;;
Many, many thanks to Legs(your review wasn't lame!), Thistle, and Funkiechick for reviewing the first chapter!
Also- to Tabloid, and again to Legs, Thistle, and Funkiechick for reviewing Laugh.
Dude- you guys are great!
Ah yes, again, review please!