Title: A Simple Twist of Fate
Author: Amiee Amelie
A/N: My note was far too long winded last chapter, so I'll keep it short this time. Just read the story. :)
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Chapter 2: Crutchy
Some new kid came walking in here today. He looked almost as bad as we do after a three days at work and the whole city's in a drought so you can't take a bath.
And trust me, that's definitely saying something. Smelling something, too. It's impossible to sleep until you get used to the stench.
But anyway, this kid just traipses up to Kloppman, throws a whole dollar onto the desk and says he wants to stay here.
Dunno why. If I had that kinda money I'd be staying at some fancy hotel, or something. If Jack had the kind of money he wouldn't be in New York right now. We were pretty famous for a couple of days after the strike, but then everything went back to normal. 'Cept for the fact that now Jack has a girl and Davey actually doesn't mind that it's his sister. That would normally get Jack a soaking for sure—but it is Davey, after all. He may got brains, but there's no question of who'd come out on top if he tried to soak Jack.
But I'm getting ahead of myself again. Like I always say, it's this brain of mine. It's got a mind of it's own.
Thought that one up myself. Davey's not the only one with brains.
So this kid, he's tiny. Not tiny as in short. He's somewhere between Jack's height and mine. Tiny as in, Les could snap him like a twig, given he were in the right mood.
His outfit wasn't so hot, either. Especially given the money that he had on him. He looked like one of us, pretty much. 'Cept for the fact it looked like his shirt was five sizes too large. Had a pretty snappy vest, though. And his hat was pulled down so low on his face, it didn't look like he had hair.
So anyways, after giving Kloppman that astonishing display of wealth, the kid picks up his bag, and follows Kloppman up the stairs to find a bunk. I hope it's not the one on top of mine. That kid really looks like he could use a bath.
"Hey," said Mush, who had, like me, been watching the entire scene. "Who's Baldy?"
I had to laugh. The kid really looked bald.
"Dunno," said Race, lighting a cigarette. "But he had a ton of dough on him. Did ya see that?"
"Nah," Boots looked very disappointed. "His back was to me. How much?"
"A dollar." Racetrack puffed contemplatively on his cigarette. "I wonder if he-"
"Aw, Race," I chucked my hat at him. "Give him a couple of days, will ya? He just got here. Don't swindle him out of his money just yet."
"Yeah," Boots piped up hopefully. "Ya never know, he might pay for lunch."
"What good'll that do? Bet he's a tightwad anyways. But I can give him really good odds on…"
I lost the rest of his sentence as he bounded up the stairs, nearly knocking over Kloppman on his way back down. I looked at Boots and Mush, who shrugged. Maybe we could stop Racetrack from taking all of Baldy's money. Maybe he would pay for lunch.
~**~
We found Baldy sitting on the bed, toeing the ground with his boot. Race was just introducing himself when we got upstairs.
"I'm Racetrack, pleased to meet ya." He proffered his hand for a shake. Baldy didn't even look at it. Race finally noticed that we had entered the room.
"Oh, this here's Crutchy, Boots, and Mush." He still didn't look up. Must have been crazy shy or something.
There was the sound of several pairs of boots clomping up the stairway.
"Hey, we heard there was some new kid up here." Jack had made an appearance. That was good. There was hardly anybody who wouldn't talk to Jack.
Racetrack scrutinized the crowd of people and continued to reel off names for Baldy, who apparently couldn't care less. He just sat on the bunk, and looked at his boots.
"That's Skittery, Specs, and this here's Cowboy. Hey, maybe I can interest you in…"
"You got a name, kid?" asked Jack. He was finally taking hold of the situation. He usually did.
The kid actually looked up. I knew Jack would get to him. Then this look came over his face, like Jack was his long lost brother, or something.
"We call him Baldy," said Racetrack, making a grab for the kid's hat. "'Cause it looks like he ain't got no hair."
The kid hung on to the hat with both hands, glared up at Race, and opened his mouth to say something.
"Dear me," said Racetrack, getting a good look at the kid's face for the first time. "We probably should have called him something else. Like, oh I dunno, Princess for example? He's as pretty as one."
Baldy's glare turned into an out-and-out scowl. He stood up from the bed, and before any of us knew what was going on, he had knocked Race down.
Jack looked from Baldy to Race, and started to laugh. No one could say Racetrack didn't deserve that; not even Race himself, who would probably have a shiner the size of a Delancy's nose tomorrow. Race didn't even bother to hit him back. He just sat there on the floor, looking very dazed.
The kid put out a hand to help Racetrack up. He finally spoke, in a low-pitched, husky voice; one that sounded almost like he was trying to make it lower than it was.
"Baldy," he said, "Will be just fine."
~**~