Spike grunted as he walked into the Brooklyn Lodging House. It was a day like any another, out on the streets selling papers until it was dark. Spike glanced around the room and looked at the surrounding newsies. He knew they were tough and that they can look out for themselves. They can fight with their fists using the strength and wit that they had, but they also fought with their words. He had known these boys since he became a Brooklyn newsie and even though he wasn't particularly close to them the way Boxer was close to his boys, Spike still held a space in his heart for them. He was their leader, after all.
But times change. He grew thinking that everything grew on money, that you needed money to survive, that without money, you were nothing but a piece of meat left to rot on the streets. And that was true for the newsies. They had nothing else to look forward to than the little money they earned everyday. Spike remembered laughing at the phrase "money is everything" but know he thought differently. He once had the happiness of his friends and brothers when they would be out selling papes with no worry. But he was now eighteen, old enough to start a family of his own and have a job. He knew he couldn't be a newsie forever.
"Everything ready for tomorrow night?" asked Spike as he walked towards Hammer who held a deck of cards and tossed a few coins at the middle of the table. Four other newsies gathered around the circular table where Hammer sat, playing poker.
"Sure, everything's ready," replied Hammer, keeping his eyes on his cards.
Spike sighed and glared at him. He knew his brother. He can easily get distracted by almost anything. Throw a rock in the middle of the street, and he'll be there to kick it all the way to Manhattan. Hammer groaned as he looked back up at Hammer, knowing what he wanted. He handed his cards to Spot, which was quietly watching the poker game.
"Don't mess it up," said Hammer as he pointed at Spot and followed Spike.
"Where's Mackie?" asked Spike. Out of the three brothers, Mackie was the most unsociable. He would be found sitting in corner, reading a book or playing with a deck of cards by himself. But Spike knew it was best to leave him alone. Being the youngest out of the three, he took their family problems much gravely than Spike and Hammer did. Besides, Mackie was the smartest. Spike never knew what happened in that brain of his, but whenever they needed a quick plan or escape, Mackie was there to spit one out.
"In the room… probably reading some book he stole again…" answered Hammer as he entered their room, finding Mackie sitting up on his bed, his eyes squinting with the light he was given by the lamp and his nose half buried in a tattered old book.
"Mackie! You got the plan ready for tomorrow?" asked Spike as he sat down on his bed. He wanted everything to go perfect. If anything went wrong, if a newsie was lost, locked in the house, or seen by anybody beside themselves, the bulls would come running.
Mackie closed his book shut. "I told ya a million times, Spike. I got it all set. The boys just have to remember where we're meeting, who's in what house, and when to get out."
Hammer nodded. "Geez Spike, this should be really easy. Don't worry about it."
Spike glared at his brothers. If they weren't related, he would've beaten them to a pulp. "The Diodetto house… that's the one nearest the little river right? The one almost covered in trees?"
"Yeah…" Mackie nodded. "What about it?"
But Spike ignored him. "Then the Alaster house is right next to the Diodetto house, right?"
Mackie and Hammer exchanged glances. It wasn't normal for Spike to get nervous about a raid. He was usually calm and composed the night before, as if nothing special was going to happen the next day. It was the other boys that would usually get the nerves. But Spike behaved differently. He wasn't himself.
"You should know. You're the one who told us where everything was," answered Hammer while Mackie nodded in agreement.
Spike stood up and walked towards the door, trying his best to hold in his anger. He knew they wouldn't understand. He held the knob with his hand and looked back at his brothers. "I'm just asking, ALRIGHT?!" he shouted as he opened the door and closed it with a bang.
Spot quickly averted his eyes and lowered his hat as Spike angrily walked away. He looked to see if he was gone and made sure to keep what he had heard to himself.
~*~
"Me, I wanna be a writer. After ten years of selling papes, you end up reading some of it in your spare time," said Tony as he walked through the crowds of people. It was already morning and more and more people kept on coming from their houses to go to work. He held the stack of newspapers in his hand tightly; making sure that none of it would go to waste. He had hardly sold any, but he knew he still had time. It was just too early.
"Nah," said Roach, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair. "I wanna be one of those guys who own those big buildings… making money… eating as much as you want… and ordering people around!" exclaimed Roach as he smiled at the other boys.
"Isn't that hard?" said Slammer. "You got all those people to look after! I'd rather be a lawyer…"
"Yeah, 'cause arguing's more your kinda thing," said Boxer as he offered a pape to a young lady, who reluctantly took it and gave him a penny. Lately, Boxer had noticed that most of the older newsies had begun talking about what they would do in the future. What their jobs would be, whom they would marry, where they would move. Everything was moving too fast. Sure, he didn't want to be left alone selling papers for as long as he lived, but all he wanted was a simple life. One where he wouldn't starve.
"It ain't my thing!" retorted Slammer. "It's just a reflex."
Boxer shook his head and rolled his eyes. He didn't know how they had survived for this long, living off pennies. But they had done well, so far. They were still living and breathing. Boxer sighed as he looked for another headline in the paper. His mind couldn't concentrate on what he was doing and the sounds of the streets distracted him even further. He couldn't take his thoughts off of what would happen tonight. He hasn't seen Spike fight so hard for his newsies to join this raid. He never had. With the Brooklyn newsies beside him, he was sure enough to win. Something tugged at the back of his mind as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Spike was up to something. He didn't want his newsies to get hurt. He wanted to make sure that he would see the day when Tony would sell his award-winning book; when Roach become the richest man in the city, and when Slammer would become the best-known lawyer in all of New York.
~*~
Anthony held his hands tightly as he bent down his forehead to calm his thoughts. Night finally dawned on New York, bringing a sense of calmness as the day came to an end. Mothers tucked their children safely in their beds as they told them a bedtime story. Wives and husbands smiled at each other as they ate they dinner. Teenagers walked hand in hand as they strolled down the streets. It seemed as though the painting was perfect. But beneath what was shown, hidden in between the colors and brushstrokes were the dangers of the streets. Gangs and thieves quietly crept as they looked for where they would attack next. It was a dangerous business and you needed to know what to do.
"Hey, Italy…" said Strider as she sat down right next to him. "You look like you're about to strangle your hands…" The cold wind blew past them as Anthony kept his eyes on the ground. They were outside Medda's, where they were supposed to meet for the big raid. At first he thought it was an unlikely place to meet for a raid, out in the open, where everyone could see. But Boxer assured the boys that they wouldn't notice. Groups of people always came there, wanting to see the famous Medda. He told them that it wouldn't be unlikely that the newsies would be there since they came almost every month. From there, they were to slowly separate and go to their houses.
Anthony inhaled a breath of air and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm fine."
Strider rolled her eyes. "Right… and I'm rich. What happened?"
"I…" he looked at Strider and paused. Her deep blue eyes looked back at him, inviting him to tell her his feelings. Through the days he had been staying with the newsies, he had slowly grown a liking to Strider. He wanted to laugh at jokes with her, hug her until she couldn't breathe, and talk to her about his feelings. He thought of how it would be so much easier if the newsies would just know. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. "Um… I lost at the races today," said Anthony quickly. "The horse I picked was a no-winner."
Strider sighed and softly chuckled. "You got all worked up over that? I thought somebody died or something…"
Anthony shrugged. "I chose the wrong horse." He had wanted to tell her everything, to have her understand. But his words came out differently.
Strider opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by the sound of someone shouting. "Come on, boys! Inside!" They turned around to find Boxer leading the boys into theater. Anthony stood up from his position and saw newsies here and there going through the door. He opened his hand to pull up Strider, which she happily took, and walked inside to follow the others. The raid was about to start.
~*~
^^ Happy that i updated? Hehe! I just love ending with cliffhangers... *wink*
Shout-outs
Strider: lol! show me your stories! ^^
Sage: haha, glad to see ya liked the scene in the restaurant! well, in MY new york there were buffalo wings then! lmao! *pokes* update your ff!
Sapphy: *lol @ sapphy poking race's arms*
Spazjoslyn: ya know, i just realized i keep getting race hurt! :( *bad bad ershey*