A/N – I'm kind of sad that this is going to be coming to an end soon...
--A/N
"Caitlin? Are you alright?" My head snapped around at the sound of name, my real name. I had been daydreaming again and I blushed furiously. Martha 'Marty' McShea gave me a rueful grin and winked. She had been nothing like I had expected while I worried about what this girl and her family would think of me once I reached New Hampshire.
The train ride had been long, but not too arduous. I had found myself seated next to a rather ample Italian woman who reminded me of Racetrack and who had also exclaimed over me calling me 'skin and bones' and had fed me the whole trip. Not that I had minded that.
"Were you thinking about your fella again?" Marty's voice was teasing and friendly and I finally smiled back at her. She hadn't known too many of the Manhattan newsies, for she hadn't been a newsgirl when she lived in Brooklyn. She knew who Racetrack was however and she found it amusing that I was so hung up over the short gambler.
"Sort of," I replied hesitantly as we cleared dishes off of the long table in the dining room of the inn that Marty's family ran. The guests had all departed from breakfast, off to sight see or in some cases, work. Some of the men were fishermen visiting from other ports.
In truth, I had been thinking about my last morning in New York City and how much I longed to go home and make things right. Spot had met me at the station and had slipped a dollar or two into my pocket before embracing me and planting a soft kiss on my forehead. I knew he was upset, he wouldn't meet my eyes.
When I boarded the train, I had yelled out good-bye, but I wasn't sure that he had heard me. He had been standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his head cocked to one side, and he had been staring at the ground. That was the last time I saw him, before the train chugged its way out of the station.
I felt a jab as someone poked my side and came back to reality once more to find Marty blatantly grinning at me. She didn't strike me as someone that Spot would date, she was rather on the tall side, and her hair was a mousy brown. But her violet eyes were captivating, and she had a beautiful smile.
"Sorry," I muttered again as I hefted up a platter of dirty dishes and made my way to the kitchen. I knocked my belly into the side of the swinging door and made an 'oomph' sound. Setting the dishes down into the huge wash-tub sink I made a face as I cupped my hands over my belly. I was well into my eighth month and I had a feeling that this baby wasn't going to wait around much longer. I felt huge, and bloated, and I hated it.
I let out a huge sigh as I stroked my aching back and bent over to wash the dishes. After the dishes were done, Marty, her mother, and I would begin washing the laundry. Then it would be time to make lunch for the boarders and then more dishes, cleaning and then dinner. I shook my head and desperately tried to remember why I had wanted to give up my newsie life.
"Race!" a hand slapped Race's back and he jolted out of his thoughts before glaring at the person who had surprised him. Kid Blink laughed and held up his hands in a defensive motion before Racetrack relaxed and chomped on his cigar.
"S'mattah?" Race inclined his head and didn't answer. It had been eight months since Misery had runaway. Eight long, lonely months. He missed her still to this day, with a fierce longing that made it impossible for him to see other girls. The other boys had tried, there was no denying that. But no girl could measure up to his Misery. He snorted mirthlessly. 'His misery' indeed for he was miserable without her.
Not a day went by that he went and pestered Spot in Brooklyn for news from her. Everyone knew that she must have gone to see him before she took off. Racetrack had a sinking feeling that Spot knew exactly where Misery was and he wasn't telling him for some reason.
Kid Blink perched beside him on the bench in Central Park. Not much had changed in the eight months. A few of the newsies had gone on to different jobs. Skittery was a bouncer in a bar. Dutchy worked down on the docks in Brooklyn, and Specs had become a teacher of all things. Jack was being groomed by Kloppman to take over the lodging house, and David was working as a lawyer's assistant. Kid Blink, Mush and Race all had un- official leadership over the house in Jack's place. Race was flirting with the idea of becoming a bookie.
Spot Conlon was nowhere near ready to step down, but when he did rumors were floating around that Riddle was going to be next in command. This suited Bourbon well, the pair finally having gotten together soon after Misery left.
Jack was officially with Pokey now, and it was whispered that he was completely smitten with her. As for the rest, well they had girls or boys who came and went. Racetrack knew that Mockery was interested in him, but he didn't have the heart to pursue anything when it already belonged to someone else.
Just then Blink stiffened, and Race looked over to see Pistol approaching them. Racetrack held back a chuckle. Everyone could tell that the two were head over heels for each other but were fighting it tooth and nail. Pistol gave Blink a sidelong look before jerking her chin at Racetrack.
"We gotta talk Race, in private." Hurt flashed across Blink's face before he silently got up and stalked away. Race watched him go before eyeing Pistol askance.
"He's going to be mighty sore at you for that," he said tapping ash off of the end of his cigar. Pistol shrugged but let a slow smile stretch across her narrow face.
"He'll get over it, I'm sure." Race motioned towards the bench with an ink-stained hand and she sat down, hooking her ankles together and putting her hands behind her head, leaning back. They didn't talk before Pistol finally put her elbows onto her knees and clasped her hands together in front of her.
"Look I've done something horrible and I think you need to know about." Race instantly knew that this had to do with Misery. He waited impatiently for Pistol to get started again. His hands clenched his knees and he ground his teeth together only stopping so that he didn't ruin his cigar.
"Misery told me why she was leaving, and she went to go see Spot before she left. My guess is he helped her find a place to run off to and knows exactly where she is." Race felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest.
"Was it me Pistol? Did she leave 'cuz of me?" His quiet question almost brought tears to Pistol's eyes as she looked at him earnestly and put a hand over his.
"Race you mean the world to me, I only kept it from yah because she didn't want yah to know. That night with the Maguire brothers.... Race she got knocked up. She didn't want you to know about it because she thought you deserved better than some dame who had gotten herself preggers from a couple of scum bags. She wanted to keep the kid and didn't think you'd stay with her. So she did what she thought was best for you so you wouldn't get hurt."
Racetrack felt tears welling up in the corners of his eyes before he angrily dashed them away. His chest felt tight suddenly and he realized although he was crying, that he was happy, almost hysterically so. So she hadn't left because she didn't love him! He felt like jumping up and clicking his heels together.
"That little idiot," he muttered which made Pistol laugh. He nervously rose and began pacing back and forth.
"I have to find her Pistol; I have to bring her home. She belongs here, with us the newsies. And, and....and with me." The look of determination on Racetrack's face made Pistol feel the happiest that she had in days. Keeping Misery's secret inside of her had twisted into a black cloud and as she lit a cigarette and exhaled, she could see the cloud slip free and disappear.
"I'm going to see Conlon, right now. And he's GOING to tell me where she is." Pistol stood up and brushed off the seat of her pants.
"No reason for you to go alone, Raceypants. I want to help yah and Conlon won't soak ya completely if there's a girl present." Race snorted with laughter before raising an eyebrow at her.
"Let's go then"
"PUSH!"
"AHH YOU GO ON AND PUSH GODDAMNIT!!" Laughter echoed in the small room as Marty snickered behind a hand. The midwife looked down at me with amusement in her iron gray eyes before bending down so that we were nose to nose.
"I know it hurts love, but I can see the head. Ye must push and get the bairn out of ye now. Gather up all your strength. Here we go. One, two, three, PUSH!" I pushed and panted and felt like I was being torn in two, but it paid off. With a grunt and sob, my son Joshua Anthony Patrick Finnegan was born wailing his head off.
I weakly raised my head to inspect my son as they laid him across my chest wrapped in a faded yellow blanket. He hollered and waved his fists around mightily and I made a face.
"He's bright red! What's that all about?" The midwife and Marty leaned up against one another and laughed till they cried. I sniffed haughtily and felt love well up in my chest. I cupped Joshua's head in my hand and tenderly ran a finger over his translucent eyelids. He instantly stopped crying and his mouth pursed and he smacked his lips together. Dreamily I cooed to him before I fell into an exhausted sleep.
"I ain't gonna ask ya again Conlon, where the hell is Misery?!" Spot Conlon sat in his small room with a look on his face that would freeze fire as Racetrack ranted and raved in front of him. Conlon eyed Pistol who was definitely smirking as she leaned against the closed door.
"She told me not to tell anyone especially you, Higgins," Spot spat viciously. Racetrack felt his temper beginning to go, a dangerous thing when Spot was concerned. If he swung at Spot he could expect to get not only a beating from the Brooklyn leader, but also each one of his boys. Both Racetrack and Spot were becoming grown men and their bodies were beginning to show it. Widened shoulders and ropy muscles became more lethal than slingshots and marbles.
"Spot, for the last time, please. I'm begging you. I love her Spot; I want to bring her home. Where she belongs. Can't you understand that?" Spot stood up suddenly and brought his face close to Race's. The short Italian was a smidgen shorter than him, but he wasn't backing down. His eyes shown with the sincerity that rang in his voice. For the first time in eight months, Spot's smile leaked onto his face, relaxing his hardened features. Race was brought to mind of a time when Misery had told him about how Spot's smile changed his face and this was no exception.
"You love her Higgins? Honestly and truly love her?" Racetrack nodded and Spot sighed before going over to his table and rifling through its contents. Coming up with a piece of paper he thrust it at Racetrack.
"Get out of here and bring her home then," the Brooklyn leader said before none-to gently shoving both him and Pistol out of his room and securing the door behind them. Pistol and Race hovered around the paper reverently. There was an address for an inn in New Hampshire. Pistol paused to look at it, but Race grabbed her by the collar of her shirt.
"Come on Pistol, we got some preparing to do. I have to go get her and I need to get ready." Pistol's gleeful laughter rang out in the dingy hallway of the Brooklyn Lodging House as they barreled down the stairs and out into the warm spring air. Misery was coming home, and Racetrack was going to be the one to go get her.
SHOUT OUTS!
Erinsailorditz -- *raises hand* I like Spot too. Lots. Shhh don't let him know. I'm glad you're excited, I'm happy with the way this story is coming out. Too bad it's almost done.
BrkLnLady – Uh oh. Heck hmm? I'm sorry you want to cry but that means I'm doing a good job! *bright smile* Hmm okay here's a happy chapter.
Chelsea – Tests and school and all that garbage stink but its necessary. Heh I don't want it to end either but it will. One more chapter! Then it's on to my Spot story. Yessir. I love the rain too, much more than the sun.
Kays14 – Is this soon enough?! Heheh... Yes she went away but now Race is going to go bring her home. Wearing his Superman cape.
JustDuck – Yep I know about the malnutrition thing but no, she's err was very much pregnant. Don't cry... *nudges Spot*
Spot: Here Duckie have a Kleenex. *hugs Duck and tries to grab her butt*
SPOT!
Spot: *grins evilly and points at self* Brooklyn. 'Sides she started it with the smooching. *wiggles eyebrows*
*slaps forehead* Oh Lord what am I ever going to do with you.
NadaZimri – I know it was sad but Race is Race and he is going to save the day! I know I was so happy when they fixed FFnet. Rambling is okay I don't mind rambling.
Pyro – Heheh...Neurotic is okay by me. I know the feeling!
Jaws – Awww I don't think you're easy to be mean to so that means you're easy to be nice to! But yeah everyone deserves nice things said about them and I don't mind it ;D Good lord there better not be a connection between your bad days and my updating because that would be creepy. At least you say my updating makes you feel better so I won't feel as bad.
BrooklynMyst – I'm glad you get why she didn't tell him, I wasn't sure if I was explaining that clearly enough.
My dog ate my penname – Heheh...that's funny the ankle grabbing thing. *tries to run away and falls on face* Ouch. Don't worry, she's coming home. Maybe. :D
The Good Girl – Yay new reviewer!! I'm glad you like it even though I don't know if you've gotten this far. But that's okay.
JamieBell – YOU UPDATED!! *tackles* Yay I was so happy. Pistol is mad at Blink because they both like each other but neither one wants to admit it and she thinks he 'started' it first. She's a regular tomboy so she's not used to feeling that about guys. I think I'm going to write a story about them so all would get explained.
"Caitlin? Are you alright?" My head snapped around at the sound of name, my real name. I had been daydreaming again and I blushed furiously. Martha 'Marty' McShea gave me a rueful grin and winked. She had been nothing like I had expected while I worried about what this girl and her family would think of me once I reached New Hampshire.
The train ride had been long, but not too arduous. I had found myself seated next to a rather ample Italian woman who reminded me of Racetrack and who had also exclaimed over me calling me 'skin and bones' and had fed me the whole trip. Not that I had minded that.
"Were you thinking about your fella again?" Marty's voice was teasing and friendly and I finally smiled back at her. She hadn't known too many of the Manhattan newsies, for she hadn't been a newsgirl when she lived in Brooklyn. She knew who Racetrack was however and she found it amusing that I was so hung up over the short gambler.
"Sort of," I replied hesitantly as we cleared dishes off of the long table in the dining room of the inn that Marty's family ran. The guests had all departed from breakfast, off to sight see or in some cases, work. Some of the men were fishermen visiting from other ports.
In truth, I had been thinking about my last morning in New York City and how much I longed to go home and make things right. Spot had met me at the station and had slipped a dollar or two into my pocket before embracing me and planting a soft kiss on my forehead. I knew he was upset, he wouldn't meet my eyes.
When I boarded the train, I had yelled out good-bye, but I wasn't sure that he had heard me. He had been standing with his arms crossed over his chest, his head cocked to one side, and he had been staring at the ground. That was the last time I saw him, before the train chugged its way out of the station.
I felt a jab as someone poked my side and came back to reality once more to find Marty blatantly grinning at me. She didn't strike me as someone that Spot would date, she was rather on the tall side, and her hair was a mousy brown. But her violet eyes were captivating, and she had a beautiful smile.
"Sorry," I muttered again as I hefted up a platter of dirty dishes and made my way to the kitchen. I knocked my belly into the side of the swinging door and made an 'oomph' sound. Setting the dishes down into the huge wash-tub sink I made a face as I cupped my hands over my belly. I was well into my eighth month and I had a feeling that this baby wasn't going to wait around much longer. I felt huge, and bloated, and I hated it.
I let out a huge sigh as I stroked my aching back and bent over to wash the dishes. After the dishes were done, Marty, her mother, and I would begin washing the laundry. Then it would be time to make lunch for the boarders and then more dishes, cleaning and then dinner. I shook my head and desperately tried to remember why I had wanted to give up my newsie life.
"Race!" a hand slapped Race's back and he jolted out of his thoughts before glaring at the person who had surprised him. Kid Blink laughed and held up his hands in a defensive motion before Racetrack relaxed and chomped on his cigar.
"S'mattah?" Race inclined his head and didn't answer. It had been eight months since Misery had runaway. Eight long, lonely months. He missed her still to this day, with a fierce longing that made it impossible for him to see other girls. The other boys had tried, there was no denying that. But no girl could measure up to his Misery. He snorted mirthlessly. 'His misery' indeed for he was miserable without her.
Not a day went by that he went and pestered Spot in Brooklyn for news from her. Everyone knew that she must have gone to see him before she took off. Racetrack had a sinking feeling that Spot knew exactly where Misery was and he wasn't telling him for some reason.
Kid Blink perched beside him on the bench in Central Park. Not much had changed in the eight months. A few of the newsies had gone on to different jobs. Skittery was a bouncer in a bar. Dutchy worked down on the docks in Brooklyn, and Specs had become a teacher of all things. Jack was being groomed by Kloppman to take over the lodging house, and David was working as a lawyer's assistant. Kid Blink, Mush and Race all had un- official leadership over the house in Jack's place. Race was flirting with the idea of becoming a bookie.
Spot Conlon was nowhere near ready to step down, but when he did rumors were floating around that Riddle was going to be next in command. This suited Bourbon well, the pair finally having gotten together soon after Misery left.
Jack was officially with Pokey now, and it was whispered that he was completely smitten with her. As for the rest, well they had girls or boys who came and went. Racetrack knew that Mockery was interested in him, but he didn't have the heart to pursue anything when it already belonged to someone else.
Just then Blink stiffened, and Race looked over to see Pistol approaching them. Racetrack held back a chuckle. Everyone could tell that the two were head over heels for each other but were fighting it tooth and nail. Pistol gave Blink a sidelong look before jerking her chin at Racetrack.
"We gotta talk Race, in private." Hurt flashed across Blink's face before he silently got up and stalked away. Race watched him go before eyeing Pistol askance.
"He's going to be mighty sore at you for that," he said tapping ash off of the end of his cigar. Pistol shrugged but let a slow smile stretch across her narrow face.
"He'll get over it, I'm sure." Race motioned towards the bench with an ink-stained hand and she sat down, hooking her ankles together and putting her hands behind her head, leaning back. They didn't talk before Pistol finally put her elbows onto her knees and clasped her hands together in front of her.
"Look I've done something horrible and I think you need to know about." Race instantly knew that this had to do with Misery. He waited impatiently for Pistol to get started again. His hands clenched his knees and he ground his teeth together only stopping so that he didn't ruin his cigar.
"Misery told me why she was leaving, and she went to go see Spot before she left. My guess is he helped her find a place to run off to and knows exactly where she is." Race felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest.
"Was it me Pistol? Did she leave 'cuz of me?" His quiet question almost brought tears to Pistol's eyes as she looked at him earnestly and put a hand over his.
"Race you mean the world to me, I only kept it from yah because she didn't want yah to know. That night with the Maguire brothers.... Race she got knocked up. She didn't want you to know about it because she thought you deserved better than some dame who had gotten herself preggers from a couple of scum bags. She wanted to keep the kid and didn't think you'd stay with her. So she did what she thought was best for you so you wouldn't get hurt."
Racetrack felt tears welling up in the corners of his eyes before he angrily dashed them away. His chest felt tight suddenly and he realized although he was crying, that he was happy, almost hysterically so. So she hadn't left because she didn't love him! He felt like jumping up and clicking his heels together.
"That little idiot," he muttered which made Pistol laugh. He nervously rose and began pacing back and forth.
"I have to find her Pistol; I have to bring her home. She belongs here, with us the newsies. And, and....and with me." The look of determination on Racetrack's face made Pistol feel the happiest that she had in days. Keeping Misery's secret inside of her had twisted into a black cloud and as she lit a cigarette and exhaled, she could see the cloud slip free and disappear.
"I'm going to see Conlon, right now. And he's GOING to tell me where she is." Pistol stood up and brushed off the seat of her pants.
"No reason for you to go alone, Raceypants. I want to help yah and Conlon won't soak ya completely if there's a girl present." Race snorted with laughter before raising an eyebrow at her.
"Let's go then"
"PUSH!"
"AHH YOU GO ON AND PUSH GODDAMNIT!!" Laughter echoed in the small room as Marty snickered behind a hand. The midwife looked down at me with amusement in her iron gray eyes before bending down so that we were nose to nose.
"I know it hurts love, but I can see the head. Ye must push and get the bairn out of ye now. Gather up all your strength. Here we go. One, two, three, PUSH!" I pushed and panted and felt like I was being torn in two, but it paid off. With a grunt and sob, my son Joshua Anthony Patrick Finnegan was born wailing his head off.
I weakly raised my head to inspect my son as they laid him across my chest wrapped in a faded yellow blanket. He hollered and waved his fists around mightily and I made a face.
"He's bright red! What's that all about?" The midwife and Marty leaned up against one another and laughed till they cried. I sniffed haughtily and felt love well up in my chest. I cupped Joshua's head in my hand and tenderly ran a finger over his translucent eyelids. He instantly stopped crying and his mouth pursed and he smacked his lips together. Dreamily I cooed to him before I fell into an exhausted sleep.
"I ain't gonna ask ya again Conlon, where the hell is Misery?!" Spot Conlon sat in his small room with a look on his face that would freeze fire as Racetrack ranted and raved in front of him. Conlon eyed Pistol who was definitely smirking as she leaned against the closed door.
"She told me not to tell anyone especially you, Higgins," Spot spat viciously. Racetrack felt his temper beginning to go, a dangerous thing when Spot was concerned. If he swung at Spot he could expect to get not only a beating from the Brooklyn leader, but also each one of his boys. Both Racetrack and Spot were becoming grown men and their bodies were beginning to show it. Widened shoulders and ropy muscles became more lethal than slingshots and marbles.
"Spot, for the last time, please. I'm begging you. I love her Spot; I want to bring her home. Where she belongs. Can't you understand that?" Spot stood up suddenly and brought his face close to Race's. The short Italian was a smidgen shorter than him, but he wasn't backing down. His eyes shown with the sincerity that rang in his voice. For the first time in eight months, Spot's smile leaked onto his face, relaxing his hardened features. Race was brought to mind of a time when Misery had told him about how Spot's smile changed his face and this was no exception.
"You love her Higgins? Honestly and truly love her?" Racetrack nodded and Spot sighed before going over to his table and rifling through its contents. Coming up with a piece of paper he thrust it at Racetrack.
"Get out of here and bring her home then," the Brooklyn leader said before none-to gently shoving both him and Pistol out of his room and securing the door behind them. Pistol and Race hovered around the paper reverently. There was an address for an inn in New Hampshire. Pistol paused to look at it, but Race grabbed her by the collar of her shirt.
"Come on Pistol, we got some preparing to do. I have to go get her and I need to get ready." Pistol's gleeful laughter rang out in the dingy hallway of the Brooklyn Lodging House as they barreled down the stairs and out into the warm spring air. Misery was coming home, and Racetrack was going to be the one to go get her.
SHOUT OUTS!
Erinsailorditz -- *raises hand* I like Spot too. Lots. Shhh don't let him know. I'm glad you're excited, I'm happy with the way this story is coming out. Too bad it's almost done.
BrkLnLady – Uh oh. Heck hmm? I'm sorry you want to cry but that means I'm doing a good job! *bright smile* Hmm okay here's a happy chapter.
Chelsea – Tests and school and all that garbage stink but its necessary. Heh I don't want it to end either but it will. One more chapter! Then it's on to my Spot story. Yessir. I love the rain too, much more than the sun.
Kays14 – Is this soon enough?! Heheh... Yes she went away but now Race is going to go bring her home. Wearing his Superman cape.
JustDuck – Yep I know about the malnutrition thing but no, she's err was very much pregnant. Don't cry... *nudges Spot*
Spot: Here Duckie have a Kleenex. *hugs Duck and tries to grab her butt*
SPOT!
Spot: *grins evilly and points at self* Brooklyn. 'Sides she started it with the smooching. *wiggles eyebrows*
*slaps forehead* Oh Lord what am I ever going to do with you.
NadaZimri – I know it was sad but Race is Race and he is going to save the day! I know I was so happy when they fixed FFnet. Rambling is okay I don't mind rambling.
Pyro – Heheh...Neurotic is okay by me. I know the feeling!
Jaws – Awww I don't think you're easy to be mean to so that means you're easy to be nice to! But yeah everyone deserves nice things said about them and I don't mind it ;D Good lord there better not be a connection between your bad days and my updating because that would be creepy. At least you say my updating makes you feel better so I won't feel as bad.
BrooklynMyst – I'm glad you get why she didn't tell him, I wasn't sure if I was explaining that clearly enough.
My dog ate my penname – Heheh...that's funny the ankle grabbing thing. *tries to run away and falls on face* Ouch. Don't worry, she's coming home. Maybe. :D
The Good Girl – Yay new reviewer!! I'm glad you like it even though I don't know if you've gotten this far. But that's okay.
JamieBell – YOU UPDATED!! *tackles* Yay I was so happy. Pistol is mad at Blink because they both like each other but neither one wants to admit it and she thinks he 'started' it first. She's a regular tomboy so she's not used to feeling that about guys. I think I'm going to write a story about them so all would get explained.