Chapter VIII:
Mounting Conflicts and Unforeseen Allies
Whipping around, Luna and Stretch saw a talk boy of about eighteen staring back at them.
"I's asked ya a simple question. Where ya think you's goin'?" his ice blue eyes pierced theirs as they struggled to find an answer that wouldn't potentially get them killed.
"Just ta da bridge, we's meetin' some friends dare," Luna replied, trying not to look intimidated, though she was terrified what with the events that had happened during the day, and the prospect of being in the midst of one more enemy.
"Friends o' Queens?" He asked, moving closer towards the girls.
"No, friends o' Manhattan," Stretch said, hoping to God it wasn't the wrong answer.
"Ya mean, you's ain't from Queens?" he asked, his face softening slightly.
"No, we's not even from New York. We's kinda new ta tell ya da truth."
"Oh, sorry I's came off as kinda, well, but since you's here, can ya help me wit somethin'? I's gots a problem an' I...just...follow me. Oh, me name's Snare by da way. I'se from da Bronx."
"I's Luna an' dis is Stretch," Luna replied, curious as to what was so urgent. Before she knew it, they were following him down the bridge, and turning away from Manhattan on their way to the Bronx.
"Almost dare," Snare said, pushing past some trash through an alley. Normally, Luna and Stretch wouldn't even think of following a stranger through the alleys of New York, but what other choice did they have? After a few more moments in silence, the boy ahead of them stopped in his tracks and looked around before stepping inside the broken window of a dilapidated factory.
"Snare, 's dat you?" they heard someone yell from the other end of the building.
"Yeah, an' I's brought help. Dis is Luna an' Stretch from Manhattan. Well, sorta," he finished as the others emerged out of the darkened end of the factory. It was an entire group of newsies of all ages, and they even saw a few girls in the mix. Very few girls, mind you, but females nonetheless. Within the crowd they saw a rumpled mound of clothes soiled in blood. As they moved closer, however, they saw it was, instead, a person and a very small one at that.
"He can't be older dan Tumbler," Stretch whispered to Luna, staring at the young boy before them, wishing desperately there was something that could take the pain away.
"Queens," one of the Bronx newsies said, leaning down to bandage his arm. "Can you's help us ta clean 'im up?" Obeying, Luna and Stretch kneeled beside the boy, working in silence to clean the wounds left from some brawl no more than an hour before. Finally, after getting him some new clothes and laying him down on a platform with thin blankets and tattered pillows, Snare decided it best to introduce the two outsiders to his crew.
"Dat was Stutters. Nice kid, but can't fight ta save 'is life, obviously," he said, taking one last look at the young boy as he fell asleep. "Dis is KO, London, an' Tidbit," Snare said, starting from one end of the building to the other. KO was by far the largest person they had ever seen, towering over them all with arms the size of a typical newsie. London was one of the girls, with light brown hair that came past her shoulders, brushing the green shirt that helped cover her small frame. Tidbit was, well, tiny. There was no other word for it. She couldn't be more than eight years old, but her eyes looked so much older.
Snare continued naming off his fellow Bronx newsies, with Scatter, a young boy who looked like he had a serious case of ADD, Dusk, a boy of about sixteen with dark hair and gray eyes, Saint, a young man with a rosary hanging out of his ripped shirt pocket, and Satire, who smiled and took a bow, showing humor despite the dreary circumstances they were in.
Luna and Stretch said their hellos, taking in all the faces and trying desperately to remember their names. A long silence broke out, no one had any idea what to say to one another. Not only were the Bronx kids in the presence of two strangers who could be spies for Queens, but Luna and Stretch knew absolutely nothing about the nine people who surrounded them.
"Look, we'll help ya back ta Manhattan if ya promise ta help us in retoin," Snare said, bringing the two girls out of their dazed state. "Ya hafta tell any utter newsie ya can ta help us wit Queens. Dey've gone too far dis time. Dey can do what dey want ta me, but I's won't stand by an' watch dem do it ta me brudda," he finished, once more looking at the little boy asleep on the platform.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Staring down at Reverie's weak form, Sneaks believed it couldn't possibly get any worse. Great, she thought, We left our world for a safer one, and look what happens here. First the war with Queens, Luna's missing, and now Reverie's sick. I swear, if one more thing goes wrong I think I'll kill someone.
"Ya alright, kid?" Graft asked, his eyes filled with concern as he glanced down at Sneaks.
"Yeah, I's fine. Just thinkin' is all," she replied. It wasn't exactly lying, just not telling the whole truth. She was dying to do something, anything, to fix the problems the lot of them were faced with. Standing there, her head filled with ideas, she didn't even notice her brother turn to leave the room to talk to Jack privately. It wasn't until Spot nudged her with his cane that she once again joined the world of the living.
"Ya looked like ya were lost. I's thought I's might help ya find ya way back," he smiled, but she could tell he had been deep in thought as well, a pensive look still present in his eyes. She wasn't given much of an opportunity to answer, as Dream came back into the room, carrying a glass of water.
"When did she leave?" Sneaks asked, motioning toward Dream who was helping Reverie take small sips from the cool glass.
"Nevah mind 'bout me helpin' ya find you're way back, you's too far gone," Spot laughed, his stature easing slightly. For a moment, all the pressures that he had been faced with left his mind as he looked around the bunkroom.
What happens if everything goes wrong? Sneaks asked herself, watching Reverie and Dream in front of her, and Spot pacing around her. What will we do then? What will the newsies do then? She continued to stand there in silence, letting the others in the room converse without her. Discreetly listening to Graft and Jack talk privately, she was racking her mind with ways to help their situation.
"We's can't do a counter attack. We's don't have da amount o' people ta stay in Brooklyn an' Manhattan ta defend our territories, an' den go off an' take on da Queens boys. Are ya kiddin'?" Graft said heatedly, trying to keep his voice down so as not to upset the people in the other room.
"Look, if dey's plannin' a surprise on us, we's might as well plan one on dem," Jack said, his eyes looking stubbornly at Graft.
"Look, Kelly, like I's told ya, we's ain't got enough people ta pull it off. I's goin' back in theah ta check on Sneaks an' da utters. I's hope dat Reverie goil's alright. Sneak's real sad 'bout dat." With that, Graft re-entered the bunkroom, Jack following closely behind.
"How we's doin'?" Jack asked, looking down at the sickly girl lying on the nearby bunk.
"I's alright, don't worry 'bout me. Can someone toin on da CD playah? It's kinda quiet in heah." As Graft, Spot, and Jack exchanged confused looks, Dream simply held Reveries hand as Gin began to sing once more.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Dat's ya brudda?" Stretch asked in awe. She couldn't possibly understand what it would be like to have a little brother in such pain like that.
"Yeah. Nice kid. He never hoit no one. Dey just...," he began, and stopped himself before he got too emotional. A newsie never cries.
"I'm so sorry," Luna said. What else could she say? There he was, standing before his group of fellow Bronx newsies, and his brother just look like he got hit by a train.
"Dat's whatcha gotta deal wit when you's a newsie. You's should know. But, he'll be alright. He always is in da end," Snare said, snapping out of it and giving the two girls a smile.
"How many o' you's Bronx kids are dare?" Stretch asked. There couldn't be just nine in this group.
"A good bit. 'Bout twenty from da Bronx Newsboys Lodgin' House. That ain't even half o' us. Dese are just da ones I's trust da most when things like dis happen," Snare answered. "If ya want a place ta stay foah da night, ya can come ta da lodgin' house wit us. Maybe you's can meet da utters." With that, Snare picked up his little brother, blankets and all, and walked with the rest of his crew from the factory through the streets of the city, consumed by darkness.
"What time is it?" Stretch asked Luna, hoping she had an actual pocket watch as opposed to a chain.
"Almost midnight," said London, her English accent was thick, and had a slight hint of a New York one as well. Before long, they came upon a building that very much resembled the Manhattan lodging house, with very few minor difference.
"Home sweet home," Satire said, opening the door and allowing the girls to pass through before the boys joined them in the lobby.
"Snare? Whatta you's kids doin' out so late? I woulda locked da door by now, an' almost did, but dare was too many of you's missin' from da bunkroom. Wait...who are these two and what happened ta Stutters?" came a voice belonging to a middle-aged man from behind the counter.
"Dis is Luna an' Stretch from Manhattan, dey helped when we's found da kid banged up in da old factory on 34th Street. Luna, Stretch, dis is Charlie. He runs da joint," Snare said, politely introducing the two girls to the lodging house owner.
"Queens boys. Four o' 'em," came Dusk, his voice quiet and calm, gray eyes looking at the young boy as if willing him to get up and start walking around the room. Instead he just lay there in his brother's arms, limp and lifeless.
"Why would dey do somethin' like dat?" asked the man, taking him from Snare and laying him on the front desk, as if it were an operating table, and he started inspecting the wounds.
"Simple, he got in da way," Scatter said desperately trying to hold his attention on the situation at hand, eyes wandering every so often.
"Got in da way?" Asked Charlie, looking up through his glasses at the other standing around him and Stutters.
"Yeah, dis group of 'em were headin' towards Brooklyn. He was just dare an' foah some damn reason, dey felt dey had ta prove demselves against a seven year old boy," said Snare, his voice filled with anger and contempt. "If I's was dare...if I's hadn't..."
"It ain't ya fault. It ain't no one's fault but Queens," came KO, who sounded unusually sensitive for what you would expect with someone his size.
"Why were dey goin' ta Brooklyn?" asked Luna, terrified of what was happening and trying to stay calm.
"One of dem yelled out somethin' 'bout dem bein' late foah a rally," piped in Tidbit, her crystal blue eyes filled with worry.
"Oh shit. Dey weren't goin' ta Brooklyn. Dey were goin' ta Manhattan," said Luna, as the full realization of what was going on hit her like a ton of bricks.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"We gotta do something' 'bout Reverie,' Minty whispered to Atlantic, listening as the sick girl went on and on about Mtv and Playstation after a good five minutes talking to herself about the wonders of the Easy Bake Oven.
"Like what? She's sick an' don't know what she's sayin'," Atlantic replied, rubbing her eyes from exhaustion.
"Can't somebody wake 'er up an' tell 'er ta shut up 'bout television an' all dat?" Mix asked, worried for Reverie, but also anxious over what would happen if the newsies found out about where all the newsgirls suddenly came from.
"Hopefully she'll wake up soon an' be fine. Dare's nuttin' ta worry 'bout," Jay-bug said, a tone of hope mixed with apprehension in her voice.
"Hey, you's alright?" they heard Preacher say, looking up from a Bible verse he had silently been reading to himself.
"Yeah, we's fine," Illusion said, and gave the others a look, urging them to keep their mouths shut. It was bad enough to have Reverie talking "nonsense" but to have the others saying things like Playstation would quickly lead to questions should someone hear them.
"I' know it ain't much, but my friend was sick kinda like dis befoah...well....I ain't sayin' Reverie is gonna...but if ya need ta talk, I'm here," Preacher said, face reddening slightly before he returned to his bible verse.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As the newsies sat there in Irving Hall, contemplating the possible events for the following day and how they could possibly prevent certain inevitable misfortunes. Despite the onstage entertainment Medda was working so hard to give, the entire building stood quiet, deep in thought and gripped with anxiety.
"When tommorah?" Skittery asked, breaking the silence.
"Dunno. If Spot an' Jack would get back soon, maybe we's know foah sure. We's just gotta be prepared foah it, I's guess," Specs said, his eyes glazed over in thought.
"How do we's prepare foah it?" asked Skittery, thoughts running through his head at a mile a minute and none of them seeming to be helpful to their situation.
"Just sit here an' wait foah dem, knowin' what dey's planning'," said Dutchy who had been immersed in conversation with Punky. "At least we's gots new allies," he finished, looking back at Punky.
"We's more dan willin' ta help, ain't we?" she asked, looking around as Hades, Bubblegum, and everyone surrounding her nodded and added support.
"We don't want you's ta get hoit, dough," Mush said, concern and anxiety present in his otherwise upbeat voice.
"Don't worry 'bout us, we'll be fine," said Floaty, trying to sound confident and hoping it was working. Suddenly, Medda stopped singing, the pianist stopped playing. Before anyone knew it, a loud crashing noise filled the ears of those inside before Irving Hall plunged into darkness.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Bolt opened her eyes, taking in the room around her. Where was she? How did she get there? Suddenly it all started coming back to her, the Jacobs, dinner, and finally when Bolt said she wasn't feeling well, Esther offered to give her a place to rest for the night. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized she was in David's room. In fact, she was in his bed, Sarah sleeping in the bed beside her.
As her mind began to clear, she tried desperately to think of a way out of there, to find someone she recognized, someone who wasn't familiar to her only through television. She sat up, careful not to disturb Sarah, and slipped out of bed and out of the bedroom. Upon entering the living room/kitchen area, she noticed both Mayer and Esther were still up, though noticeably tired and now wearing their evening clothes.
"Can't sleep?" Mayer said, looking up and noticing the young girl entering the room.
"No, guess not. Keep thinkin' 'bout me friends is all," She whispered, careful not to disturb Les, who was only a few feet away from where they sat.
"It will be alright. David should be home soon, if you want him to take you back to the lodging house or tell you how your friends are. Until then, why don't you just take a seat and I'll get you a glass of water," Esther said, getting up and moving to get a glass for Bolt.
"Thank you, but I don't want ta be any trouble."
"You're no trouble," Mayer replied. "Any friend of David and his group is always welcome here." Just then, the door flew open, and David himself ran inside, a look of terror and concern on his face. "Speak of the Devil. What's the matter, David?" He asked, suddenly seeing his son's eyes full of concern and panic.
"Mama, Papa, there's been an accident," said, a tone of urgency in his voice.
Mounting Conflicts and Unforeseen Allies
Whipping around, Luna and Stretch saw a talk boy of about eighteen staring back at them.
"I's asked ya a simple question. Where ya think you's goin'?" his ice blue eyes pierced theirs as they struggled to find an answer that wouldn't potentially get them killed.
"Just ta da bridge, we's meetin' some friends dare," Luna replied, trying not to look intimidated, though she was terrified what with the events that had happened during the day, and the prospect of being in the midst of one more enemy.
"Friends o' Queens?" He asked, moving closer towards the girls.
"No, friends o' Manhattan," Stretch said, hoping to God it wasn't the wrong answer.
"Ya mean, you's ain't from Queens?" he asked, his face softening slightly.
"No, we's not even from New York. We's kinda new ta tell ya da truth."
"Oh, sorry I's came off as kinda, well, but since you's here, can ya help me wit somethin'? I's gots a problem an' I...just...follow me. Oh, me name's Snare by da way. I'se from da Bronx."
"I's Luna an' dis is Stretch," Luna replied, curious as to what was so urgent. Before she knew it, they were following him down the bridge, and turning away from Manhattan on their way to the Bronx.
"Almost dare," Snare said, pushing past some trash through an alley. Normally, Luna and Stretch wouldn't even think of following a stranger through the alleys of New York, but what other choice did they have? After a few more moments in silence, the boy ahead of them stopped in his tracks and looked around before stepping inside the broken window of a dilapidated factory.
"Snare, 's dat you?" they heard someone yell from the other end of the building.
"Yeah, an' I's brought help. Dis is Luna an' Stretch from Manhattan. Well, sorta," he finished as the others emerged out of the darkened end of the factory. It was an entire group of newsies of all ages, and they even saw a few girls in the mix. Very few girls, mind you, but females nonetheless. Within the crowd they saw a rumpled mound of clothes soiled in blood. As they moved closer, however, they saw it was, instead, a person and a very small one at that.
"He can't be older dan Tumbler," Stretch whispered to Luna, staring at the young boy before them, wishing desperately there was something that could take the pain away.
"Queens," one of the Bronx newsies said, leaning down to bandage his arm. "Can you's help us ta clean 'im up?" Obeying, Luna and Stretch kneeled beside the boy, working in silence to clean the wounds left from some brawl no more than an hour before. Finally, after getting him some new clothes and laying him down on a platform with thin blankets and tattered pillows, Snare decided it best to introduce the two outsiders to his crew.
"Dat was Stutters. Nice kid, but can't fight ta save 'is life, obviously," he said, taking one last look at the young boy as he fell asleep. "Dis is KO, London, an' Tidbit," Snare said, starting from one end of the building to the other. KO was by far the largest person they had ever seen, towering over them all with arms the size of a typical newsie. London was one of the girls, with light brown hair that came past her shoulders, brushing the green shirt that helped cover her small frame. Tidbit was, well, tiny. There was no other word for it. She couldn't be more than eight years old, but her eyes looked so much older.
Snare continued naming off his fellow Bronx newsies, with Scatter, a young boy who looked like he had a serious case of ADD, Dusk, a boy of about sixteen with dark hair and gray eyes, Saint, a young man with a rosary hanging out of his ripped shirt pocket, and Satire, who smiled and took a bow, showing humor despite the dreary circumstances they were in.
Luna and Stretch said their hellos, taking in all the faces and trying desperately to remember their names. A long silence broke out, no one had any idea what to say to one another. Not only were the Bronx kids in the presence of two strangers who could be spies for Queens, but Luna and Stretch knew absolutely nothing about the nine people who surrounded them.
"Look, we'll help ya back ta Manhattan if ya promise ta help us in retoin," Snare said, bringing the two girls out of their dazed state. "Ya hafta tell any utter newsie ya can ta help us wit Queens. Dey've gone too far dis time. Dey can do what dey want ta me, but I's won't stand by an' watch dem do it ta me brudda," he finished, once more looking at the little boy asleep on the platform.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Staring down at Reverie's weak form, Sneaks believed it couldn't possibly get any worse. Great, she thought, We left our world for a safer one, and look what happens here. First the war with Queens, Luna's missing, and now Reverie's sick. I swear, if one more thing goes wrong I think I'll kill someone.
"Ya alright, kid?" Graft asked, his eyes filled with concern as he glanced down at Sneaks.
"Yeah, I's fine. Just thinkin' is all," she replied. It wasn't exactly lying, just not telling the whole truth. She was dying to do something, anything, to fix the problems the lot of them were faced with. Standing there, her head filled with ideas, she didn't even notice her brother turn to leave the room to talk to Jack privately. It wasn't until Spot nudged her with his cane that she once again joined the world of the living.
"Ya looked like ya were lost. I's thought I's might help ya find ya way back," he smiled, but she could tell he had been deep in thought as well, a pensive look still present in his eyes. She wasn't given much of an opportunity to answer, as Dream came back into the room, carrying a glass of water.
"When did she leave?" Sneaks asked, motioning toward Dream who was helping Reverie take small sips from the cool glass.
"Nevah mind 'bout me helpin' ya find you're way back, you's too far gone," Spot laughed, his stature easing slightly. For a moment, all the pressures that he had been faced with left his mind as he looked around the bunkroom.
What happens if everything goes wrong? Sneaks asked herself, watching Reverie and Dream in front of her, and Spot pacing around her. What will we do then? What will the newsies do then? She continued to stand there in silence, letting the others in the room converse without her. Discreetly listening to Graft and Jack talk privately, she was racking her mind with ways to help their situation.
"We's can't do a counter attack. We's don't have da amount o' people ta stay in Brooklyn an' Manhattan ta defend our territories, an' den go off an' take on da Queens boys. Are ya kiddin'?" Graft said heatedly, trying to keep his voice down so as not to upset the people in the other room.
"Look, if dey's plannin' a surprise on us, we's might as well plan one on dem," Jack said, his eyes looking stubbornly at Graft.
"Look, Kelly, like I's told ya, we's ain't got enough people ta pull it off. I's goin' back in theah ta check on Sneaks an' da utters. I's hope dat Reverie goil's alright. Sneak's real sad 'bout dat." With that, Graft re-entered the bunkroom, Jack following closely behind.
"How we's doin'?" Jack asked, looking down at the sickly girl lying on the nearby bunk.
"I's alright, don't worry 'bout me. Can someone toin on da CD playah? It's kinda quiet in heah." As Graft, Spot, and Jack exchanged confused looks, Dream simply held Reveries hand as Gin began to sing once more.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Dat's ya brudda?" Stretch asked in awe. She couldn't possibly understand what it would be like to have a little brother in such pain like that.
"Yeah. Nice kid. He never hoit no one. Dey just...," he began, and stopped himself before he got too emotional. A newsie never cries.
"I'm so sorry," Luna said. What else could she say? There he was, standing before his group of fellow Bronx newsies, and his brother just look like he got hit by a train.
"Dat's whatcha gotta deal wit when you's a newsie. You's should know. But, he'll be alright. He always is in da end," Snare said, snapping out of it and giving the two girls a smile.
"How many o' you's Bronx kids are dare?" Stretch asked. There couldn't be just nine in this group.
"A good bit. 'Bout twenty from da Bronx Newsboys Lodgin' House. That ain't even half o' us. Dese are just da ones I's trust da most when things like dis happen," Snare answered. "If ya want a place ta stay foah da night, ya can come ta da lodgin' house wit us. Maybe you's can meet da utters." With that, Snare picked up his little brother, blankets and all, and walked with the rest of his crew from the factory through the streets of the city, consumed by darkness.
"What time is it?" Stretch asked Luna, hoping she had an actual pocket watch as opposed to a chain.
"Almost midnight," said London, her English accent was thick, and had a slight hint of a New York one as well. Before long, they came upon a building that very much resembled the Manhattan lodging house, with very few minor difference.
"Home sweet home," Satire said, opening the door and allowing the girls to pass through before the boys joined them in the lobby.
"Snare? Whatta you's kids doin' out so late? I woulda locked da door by now, an' almost did, but dare was too many of you's missin' from da bunkroom. Wait...who are these two and what happened ta Stutters?" came a voice belonging to a middle-aged man from behind the counter.
"Dis is Luna an' Stretch from Manhattan, dey helped when we's found da kid banged up in da old factory on 34th Street. Luna, Stretch, dis is Charlie. He runs da joint," Snare said, politely introducing the two girls to the lodging house owner.
"Queens boys. Four o' 'em," came Dusk, his voice quiet and calm, gray eyes looking at the young boy as if willing him to get up and start walking around the room. Instead he just lay there in his brother's arms, limp and lifeless.
"Why would dey do somethin' like dat?" asked the man, taking him from Snare and laying him on the front desk, as if it were an operating table, and he started inspecting the wounds.
"Simple, he got in da way," Scatter said desperately trying to hold his attention on the situation at hand, eyes wandering every so often.
"Got in da way?" Asked Charlie, looking up through his glasses at the other standing around him and Stutters.
"Yeah, dis group of 'em were headin' towards Brooklyn. He was just dare an' foah some damn reason, dey felt dey had ta prove demselves against a seven year old boy," said Snare, his voice filled with anger and contempt. "If I's was dare...if I's hadn't..."
"It ain't ya fault. It ain't no one's fault but Queens," came KO, who sounded unusually sensitive for what you would expect with someone his size.
"Why were dey goin' ta Brooklyn?" asked Luna, terrified of what was happening and trying to stay calm.
"One of dem yelled out somethin' 'bout dem bein' late foah a rally," piped in Tidbit, her crystal blue eyes filled with worry.
"Oh shit. Dey weren't goin' ta Brooklyn. Dey were goin' ta Manhattan," said Luna, as the full realization of what was going on hit her like a ton of bricks.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"We gotta do something' 'bout Reverie,' Minty whispered to Atlantic, listening as the sick girl went on and on about Mtv and Playstation after a good five minutes talking to herself about the wonders of the Easy Bake Oven.
"Like what? She's sick an' don't know what she's sayin'," Atlantic replied, rubbing her eyes from exhaustion.
"Can't somebody wake 'er up an' tell 'er ta shut up 'bout television an' all dat?" Mix asked, worried for Reverie, but also anxious over what would happen if the newsies found out about where all the newsgirls suddenly came from.
"Hopefully she'll wake up soon an' be fine. Dare's nuttin' ta worry 'bout," Jay-bug said, a tone of hope mixed with apprehension in her voice.
"Hey, you's alright?" they heard Preacher say, looking up from a Bible verse he had silently been reading to himself.
"Yeah, we's fine," Illusion said, and gave the others a look, urging them to keep their mouths shut. It was bad enough to have Reverie talking "nonsense" but to have the others saying things like Playstation would quickly lead to questions should someone hear them.
"I' know it ain't much, but my friend was sick kinda like dis befoah...well....I ain't sayin' Reverie is gonna...but if ya need ta talk, I'm here," Preacher said, face reddening slightly before he returned to his bible verse.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
As the newsies sat there in Irving Hall, contemplating the possible events for the following day and how they could possibly prevent certain inevitable misfortunes. Despite the onstage entertainment Medda was working so hard to give, the entire building stood quiet, deep in thought and gripped with anxiety.
"When tommorah?" Skittery asked, breaking the silence.
"Dunno. If Spot an' Jack would get back soon, maybe we's know foah sure. We's just gotta be prepared foah it, I's guess," Specs said, his eyes glazed over in thought.
"How do we's prepare foah it?" asked Skittery, thoughts running through his head at a mile a minute and none of them seeming to be helpful to their situation.
"Just sit here an' wait foah dem, knowin' what dey's planning'," said Dutchy who had been immersed in conversation with Punky. "At least we's gots new allies," he finished, looking back at Punky.
"We's more dan willin' ta help, ain't we?" she asked, looking around as Hades, Bubblegum, and everyone surrounding her nodded and added support.
"We don't want you's ta get hoit, dough," Mush said, concern and anxiety present in his otherwise upbeat voice.
"Don't worry 'bout us, we'll be fine," said Floaty, trying to sound confident and hoping it was working. Suddenly, Medda stopped singing, the pianist stopped playing. Before anyone knew it, a loud crashing noise filled the ears of those inside before Irving Hall plunged into darkness.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Bolt opened her eyes, taking in the room around her. Where was she? How did she get there? Suddenly it all started coming back to her, the Jacobs, dinner, and finally when Bolt said she wasn't feeling well, Esther offered to give her a place to rest for the night. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized she was in David's room. In fact, she was in his bed, Sarah sleeping in the bed beside her.
As her mind began to clear, she tried desperately to think of a way out of there, to find someone she recognized, someone who wasn't familiar to her only through television. She sat up, careful not to disturb Sarah, and slipped out of bed and out of the bedroom. Upon entering the living room/kitchen area, she noticed both Mayer and Esther were still up, though noticeably tired and now wearing their evening clothes.
"Can't sleep?" Mayer said, looking up and noticing the young girl entering the room.
"No, guess not. Keep thinkin' 'bout me friends is all," She whispered, careful not to disturb Les, who was only a few feet away from where they sat.
"It will be alright. David should be home soon, if you want him to take you back to the lodging house or tell you how your friends are. Until then, why don't you just take a seat and I'll get you a glass of water," Esther said, getting up and moving to get a glass for Bolt.
"Thank you, but I don't want ta be any trouble."
"You're no trouble," Mayer replied. "Any friend of David and his group is always welcome here." Just then, the door flew open, and David himself ran inside, a look of terror and concern on his face. "Speak of the Devil. What's the matter, David?" He asked, suddenly seeing his son's eyes full of concern and panic.
"Mama, Papa, there's been an accident," said, a tone of urgency in his voice.