It took me a long time to get to sleep that night. We'd picked up three
new newsies before lights-out so me, Blink, Mush and Skittery had moved to
the infirmary to sleep. Jack didn't know it, yet, but he'd be sleepin' in
there with us. We'd given his bed to two other kids.
I could hear Blink and Mush whisper back and forth, but didn't pay much attention to what they was sayin'. I was tryin' to figure the best place to get what we needed. While I was thinkin' about that, my mind would wander to memories of my mother. I'd realize what I was thinkin' about and drag my attention back to the problem of needing more coats. Next thing I know, I'm thinkin' about Jack sitting all warm and cozy over at the Jacobs' place. I couldn't concentrate and I couldn't sleep.
"I see you bummers gave away my bed."
"You'll like it better in here, anyways, Jack." Mush's voice was cheerful and cajoling.
"Yeah, you're right about that. We're fillin' up pretty quick, ain't we?"
"And how. Heya, Jack...Crutchy got soaked by a coupla scabbers who took his coat and gloves." The anger was creeping back into Blink's voice. If one of us caught up to the bums that beat up Crutchy, they'd end up bein' the ones that needed a crutch.
"He know who they were?"
"No, but if he sees 'em again, he's gonna let us know."
"Then we'll soak 'em, 'cause I ain't havin' nobody beatin' up my newsies."
I had to laugh to myself at that. His newsies. He was growin' apart from us, and seemed to be the only one that didn't know it.
And, suddenly, I knew why. I was already wishing with all my heart that I belonged with a family like the Jacobs', and finding reasons to go by their place. If I was doing that, what was it like for Jack? What kinda longing was he feeling for Sarah and her family?
I'd been such a heel.
"Hey, Jack?"
I could hear the bedsprings creak as Jack flopped down on his cot. "Yeah, Race?"
"If ya find those scabbers that beat up Crutchy, let me know. I'll help ya soak 'em."
"Sure Race. Wouldn't have it any other way."
The words were casual, but I could hear the smile in his voice. In our own way, I'd apologized and he'd accepted. One less thing to worry about as I tried to get to sleep that night.
The next morning, I set off to Grand Central Station with Skittery and Boots. They were my lookouts and backup for what I was about to do. See, with Christmas comin' up soon, the hoity-toity boarding schools were closing for winter break. The rich kids were comin' home for the holidays. Easy pickins.
I found a nice private corner near a pretzel vendor then headed out into the crowd. I took my time and spent most of the morning just watching. Waiting for just the right stooge.
And they finally arrived.
I spotted two kids in dark gray uniforms and warm, navy wool coats coming toward me. They had camera bags slung over their shoulders, bulging wallets in their pockets and didn't seem to pay a bit of attention to anyone around them. If I didn't get 'em, a pickpocket would.
The taller kid looked about 16 or 17, with short brown hair and dark eyes. I could tell by the way he looked at the shorter kid when he talked, that he thought he was a leader. That he was somethin' because he was rich. I'd fix that. The shorter kid seemed about 14 and looked up at the older kid with the same hero worship in his blue eyes that Les had in his eyes for Jack.
Oh, brother. This would be easy. But only if the kids had to wait for their drivers. I followed them outside and crossed my fingers as the older kid looked around at the carriages lined up in front of the station. I saw him shake his head and the two wandered back inside. With a sly smile, I followed them inside.
Sure enough, they eventually went over to the pretzel vendor to get something to eat. As they walked away with their hot pretzels, I 'accidentally' bumped into the older kid.
"Hey, watch what you're doing."
"Sorry, kid. Didn't mean to bump into ya."
"Just who are you calling 'kid'? I bet I'm older than you."
"Hey, no offense." This was easier than I thought. "You like to bet?"
"What do you mean?" A little suspicion crept into his voice, and I could see the nervousness on the face of the younger kid.
"You guys ever play poker? I'm waitin' on a coupla friends and playin' cards is as good a way as any other to pass the time. I'm not all that great at poker, but we could have some fun while I'm waitin' for my friends. Oh, unless you kids hafta go or somethin'."
That did it. The older kid didn't like the idea of me being able to do something he couldn't do, and he was stupid enough to think I was tellin' the truth about my ability to play poker.
"Sure, I guess we can play cards. It appears our chauffeur has yet to arrive and it's too cold outside to wait."
"Great. Here's a good place over here. Out of the way of the crowd."
Good thing I wasn't a pickpocket, 'cause the ignorant schoolboys followed me over to the private corner I'd found earlier. I slid down the wall to sit on the floor and pulled my worn deck of cards from my pocket. As I shuffled the cards, the two boys sat down across from me. The youngest shifted nervously and cleared his throat. "What's your name?"
Well, considerin' I was about to take their shirts, I wasn't gonna give 'em a name that could be used to find me. "Name's Tony. Yours?"
The younger boy made the introductions. "I'm William and this is my cousin, John."
"Glad to meat ya. How 'bout five card stud?"
And the games began. I didn't even cheat. I kept the betting to small coins then suggested one last hand with a bigger gamble. When asked what we were gambling on, I told 'em I'd put in my gold watch if they'd put in their nice wool coats. I guess they figured it was no real gamble, since Daddy would buy them new coats if they lost. They agreed and I dealt the cards for one last hand.
It wasn't a gamble for them, maybe, but it was sure a gamble for me. That watch was the most important thing I owned. I traded two cards and held my breath. It wasn't the best hand in the world, but it would be enough. I hoped. William laid his cards on the cold marble floor with a disappointed sigh. Junk. I watched John's face and could tell the kid thought he really had something. I hoped he was wrong.
"Pair of aces."
"Pretty good." But not good enough. "Full House. Thanks for the coats, kids, we really need 'em."
John didn't take that as well as I'd hoped. He stood as I gathered up the cards and picked his navy blue coat up from the floor. "You probably cheated, you street rat. I'm not giving you my coat."
I slipped the deck of cards into my pocket and climbed to my feet. "You welchin' on a bet, kid? What about you, William? You a cheater, too?"
William was obviously torn between keeping his word and standing with his cousin. To make the decision easier I slipped my cap off and stuck it in my pocket. That was the signal. Quicker than you can blink, Skittery and Boots were standin' behind me. "Hey, this kid thinks he's gonna welch on a bet. Can you believe that?"
Cracking his knuckles and looking as dark and menacing as he's capable of, Skittery shook his head and nudged Boots. "Nah, I can't believe that. We don't think too kindly o' welchers around here, kid. I hope you reconsider."
Boots crossed his arms and braced himself for a fight. It was three seasoned fighters against two soft schoolboys. Even John realized the mistake he'd made. But he wasn't going to give in with good grace. He tossed the coat at me as he shoved past. William handed his own coat to Boots and shot me an apologetic look, before following his older cousin outside to the carriage that had arrived during our game.
I handed John's coat to Skittery, slipped out of David's hand-me-down and swapped it with William's coat. It almost fit me like a glove. William had been my height, but not quite as skinny. With a smile of satisfaction, I tucked Dave's old coat under my arm.
"Thanks for the help, fellas."
Skittery held out the coat he was holding. "Who gets this one?"
I shrugged my shoulders, not really sure. "Give it to Dutchy. The coat he's wearin' is so full of holes he might as well not be wearin' anything. I'll give Dave's coat to Crutchy."
I buttoned up the coat as I walked out the door of Grand Central and slipped my cap back on. Boots followed me as I turned in the direction of Duane Street. "Hey, Race, wait up. Did you cheat this time?"
Patting my vest pocket through the heavy wool coat, I smiled at the reassuring bulge of the gold watch that rested there. "Nope. Won it fair and square. I only cheat when we're playing Brooklyn. They're too cocky for their own good. Need to be taken down a peg or two now and then."
I slung my arm over his shoulders and laughed. "'Course, I can't let Spot catch me at it, or he'll toss me in the river."
"That why you came back after a poker game soakin' wet a few months ago?"
Well, Boots was my friend so I couldn't really lie to him. "Yeah, well...Spot's got sharp eyes. And he did let me hand over my watch and harmonica 'fore he tossed me in."
"What are friends for?"
A heavy dose of sarcasm tainted his words, but deep down...he meant it. We hopped on the back of a delivery wagon and rode most of the way back to the lodgin' house. The driver noticed us about halfway back, but let us hitch a ride anyways. Maybe it was the spirit of the season.
Boots was grinnin' from ear to ear when we handed David's old coat to Crutchy. He seemed a little reluctant to take it, 'til I convinced him I hadn't cheated anyone to get the coat I was wearin'. 'Sides, I told him Dave would be happy that his old coat was keepin' Crutchy warm.
Dave's reaction turned out to be a little different, when we all turned up at the World for the evening edition.
"Didn't you like the coat, Race? You know, my Mom sent it over just for you."
Great, now I felt about two inches tall. Not for giving the coat to Crutchy, 'cause it made better sense. The coat I was wearin' would've been too short in the sleeves for Crutchy. No, I was feelin' like a scab 'cause I knew darn well I was glad to get rid of the coat. The coat Mrs. Jacobs had meant for me. The one that reminded me every moment I wore it, of the life I'd lost.
"Sure I liked it, Dave, but it don't make sense for me to keep it when it fits Crutchy better. What's more important, anyways? Your mother's feelings or Crutchy stayin' warm?"
Hm. Maybe I could've said that a little better.
Looking up from where he'd been showing off a new Hanukkah gift, Les frowned at me. I guess he'd heard that last part. He handed the shiny new top to Jackrabbit and came over to join me, Dave and Jack. Great.
"My mother's feelings are important, Racetrack."
"I'm sure they are, kid, but not as important as Crutchy. I know that coat was a gift to me from your mother, but that don't make any difference. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure these guys all make it through the winter."
I could tell by the look in the kid's eyes that he was mad at me, but what was I gonna do? "Look, Les, go back over there and play with Jackrabbit 'n the others. This ain't got nothin' to do with you."
He gave me a dirty look, but he went. And that didn't sit too well with Dave. "Hey, Race, you let me worry about my brother."
"Gladly." It seemed no matter what, this wasn't gonna turn out the way I planned. "Thanks for the coat, Dave, but it's none o' your business what I do with it. You go home tonight to your mother, father, brother and sister. You eat a nice hot meal, put on a nice clean nightshirt and get under a pile of nice clean quilts. Then you think about the kids that ain't got nothin'. Then you worry about your damn old coat you can't even wear no more!"
Jack shook his head and reached out to try to get me to shut up, but I was on a roll and couldn't seem to stop the words. I glanced over at Les then back at Davey. I poked him in the chest with my finger, angry at just about everything at the moment. "You let me worry about my brothers."
I turned on my heels and walked away. Well, stomped away is probably more like it. Jack yelled after me, as I walked through the gates, "Race, where ya goin'?"
I didn't even look back. "I'm gonna sell in Brooklyn. Nobody cares what I'm wearin', there."
Most of the Brooklyn newsies had already gotten their papes by the time I got to their distribution center. A few stragglers were there, though, and one big kid gave me what was supposed to be a friendly shove as I joined the line. After picking myself up from the ground, I rubbed the sore spot on my shoulder.
"Hey, Bruiser, how's it rollin'?"
"They throw you outta Manhattan, Racetrack?"
The Brooklyn kids all thought that was just the funniest thing they'd ever heard and all but fell over laughing. Either that, or they were humoring a kid that could break them in half without even breaking a sweat.
"Nah, just thought I needed a change of scenery. 'Course, if I'd known you were part of the scenery, I'd've stayed home."
Luckily for me, Bruiser thought that was funny. He roared with laughter and slapped me on the shoulder. Surprisingly, my arm only felt like it had been torn off. Resisting the urge to rub my shoulder, I checked the faces of the kids gathered in the courtyard. "Where's Spot?"
"Sellin' over at the harbor. Trouble?"
Not the kind he was thinkin' about. "Nah, just thought I'd see if he was up to a game."
"I dunno. Things is pretty tight these days."
"Yeah, same with us. How're your numbers?"
"Growin' every night. A lot o' the factory kids lost their jobs and are lookin' for work. With no place else to go, they end up at the lodgin' houses."
Looked like Brooklyn had it worse than we did. "Yeah, we got more than usual, too. If you hafta find places for some o' your factory kids, send 'em to Manhattan. We still have a few beds and there's always the floor."
"We'll keep that in mind, Race." Bruiser was next in line so he slid his coins under the bars and got his papes. "Be seein' ya 'round, Manhattan."
"See ya."
I paid for my own papes and headed in the direction of the harbor. It didn't take me too long to find Spot. I could hear him long before I could see him. They call Dave the Mouth, but let me tell ya...Spot could easily earn that nickname.
"Extry, extry! Winter kills thousands!"
Chuckling, I waited 'til all his customers had paid for their papes and left before walkin' up behind him. "Somehow I don't think they'll be expecting a story about the early winter killin' off a buncha rats."
Flashing me a cocky grin, Spot shrugged and shouted his headline once more. "What brings you to Brooklyn, Race? And why're you carryin' a stack o' papes?"
"Mind if I sell in Brooklyn today, Spot?"
"What was you gonna do if I said no?"
Shooting him my own cocky grin, I shrugged one shoulder. "Sell 'em anyways."
"Thought so. Sure, what's one more newsie?" Jiggling his stack of papes to straighten out a few that had begun to slip, Spot squinted at me. "You didn't answer my first question."
With a sigh, I wondered where to begin. "I just need to get outta Manhattan for a day, is all. Dave's mad at me for givin' his coat to Crutchy. Les is mad at me for somethin' I said that came out the wrong way. Jack is probably mad at me for yellin' at Dave. Just seems no matter what I do, somebody's gonna be mad at me."
"I have no idea what you're talkin' about, but what d'ya care what anybody thinks about ya anyway? You know they'll forget all about it in a few days."
"Probably."
Spot stared at me with those piercing blue eyes and I could tell he was lookin' through my poker face. He was about the only one that could. "What's really botherin' you?"
I know it was an unwritten rule to not talk about the past, but I just felt like I was gonna bust open if I didn't talk to somebody. "I been thinkin' about my mother a lot lately. Rememberin' things. Good things. Things I miss and wish I could have back."
Jerking his head in the direction of some buildings, Spot led me over to a narrow place between two warehouses. Sitting on an empty barrel, he gestured me over to a wooden crate opposite. "You know it don't do anybody any good to dwell on the past, Race."
"I know, but I can't seem to help it. It's Jack. He's always over at Dave's. I seen their family, Spot. It's nice. Real nice. He's over there, with a mother and father, a girl and two brothers. Like being part of a family. A real honest to goodness family."
"And you wish it was you?"
Running my finger over the newspaper I held in my lap, I looked down and nodded my head. "I know I should be happy for him, and I am. I just wish...he'll be leavin' soon, ya know."
"Yeah. I seen that during the strike. Jack's got a dream. And there ain't nothin' wrong with havin' dreams. It's all we newsies have. But dreams don't do you any good if it's dreams of a past you can't ever get back. Kids like me and you, Race...we ain't got nobody but ourselves and the other newsies. That ain't so bad, really. A lotta people ain't that lucky."
Wow. I don't think I'd ever heard Spot say so much in one breath before. Especially not said that seriously. He actually sounded smart. I looked at him with a new respect and shrugged. "Guess I just need a break from the guys, is all. A break from worryin' about getting everyone through the winter."
Out of Manhattan so I wouldn't be tempted to walk past the Jacob's building again.
"Yeah, I been doin' the same worryin'." Spot chuckled softly. "Times like this, I wish I'd done what you did."
"What's that?"
"Said no when asked if ya wanted to be the next leader."
"Lotta good it did me."
"You gonna take over when Jack leaves?"
That question made me a little uncomfortable. It made the idea of Jack leavin' a little too real. Too immediate. I wasn't ready for Jack to go. He was my friend, my leader...my brother. But I couldn't deny that I'd been thinking about the future lately.
"No. Not really. I don't think we'll have another leader. Not like before. Me, Blink, Mush, Skits and few others that's been around a while...we'll sort of be a committee. Take votes and things like that. Work together, so no one person has to carry the full load, ya know?"
Spot tilted his head and seemed to think about it. "You know, I think Manhattan's about the only place where that'd work. Well, Brooklyn is here if you ever need us."
"Yeah, I know. Thanks for that, Spot."
"What're friends for?"
Spot spit in his hand and held it out as he stood. I spit in my own palm and slapped it against his for a handshake of friendship and loyalty. We grinned at each other and stepped back out onto the harbor street to discover it had begun to snow. The fluffy wet stuff was drifting lazily now, but we both knew it could pick up faster than you can blink.
"I better head back to Manhattan before this gets any worse, Spot."
"Yeah, don't want a soft bum like you getting caught in a blizzard or nothin'."
"Very funny, Spot. You just worry about yourself."
I waved my arm and headed in the opposite direction from Spot, back to my own territory. By the time I got to the bridge, the snow had picked up. It was comin' down fast enough that you could hear it as it landed on the streets and buildings, leaving a fine dusting of white on everything and making the cobblestone streets slippery and wet. Despite the cold, despite the weather...I felt a lot better than I had that morning, though I'm not sure why.
When I opened the door to the lodgin' house...well, the wind blew it open...about ten anxious faces turned to stare at me. I could see the relief in each and every smile. Hurrying inside, I managed to shut the door with a little effort. Shivering, I stamped the snow off my boots and smiled at them. "I take it I'm the last one back?"
Kloppman slid the registry book across the desk so I could sign it, and nodded. "You're the last one, Racetrack. Plus a few new ones."
"Yeah, figured. It's nasty out there."
Tonight would be a killer, sure as shootin'. I was glad none o' our boys would be out there in it. But a lot of other kids would be.
Jack seemed to read my mind. He jerked his head toward the stairs and I followed him up. Blink, Mush, Skitts, Snaps, Dutchy and Specs followed behind. I had a feeling they'd all had a meeting of some sort while I was on my way back from Brooklyn. Jack bypassed the bunkroom where a bunch of boys were roughhousing and led us all up to the attic instead.
Sitting down on one the trunks, Jack waited for the rest of us to find a place on a trunk lid or the floor before starting. "This snow don't look like it's gonna let up tonight. I don't wanna get up in the morning and see a buncha frozen street kids on my way to the World. We still got room. It'll be getting dark, soon, but we got time to make a sweep o' the streets and offer a place to sleep to any kid we can find. If they ain't got the money, I'm sure Kloppy ain't gonna turn 'em away. We can use some of our winter savings if we have to."
He got no arguments from us. We spent precious minutes deciding who would go where, but we were hurrying down the stairs in no time. We left Crutchy in charge, explained where we was goin' and waved to Kloppy as we stepped back out into the blowing snow. We huddled together for a moment, arms crossed and chins tucked into turned up collars, looked at other in a silent plea to be careful then headed out in separate directions.
Yep, as poor as we were...we were luckier than some. Maybe tonight we could change the luck of some other poor kid.
I could hear Blink and Mush whisper back and forth, but didn't pay much attention to what they was sayin'. I was tryin' to figure the best place to get what we needed. While I was thinkin' about that, my mind would wander to memories of my mother. I'd realize what I was thinkin' about and drag my attention back to the problem of needing more coats. Next thing I know, I'm thinkin' about Jack sitting all warm and cozy over at the Jacobs' place. I couldn't concentrate and I couldn't sleep.
"I see you bummers gave away my bed."
"You'll like it better in here, anyways, Jack." Mush's voice was cheerful and cajoling.
"Yeah, you're right about that. We're fillin' up pretty quick, ain't we?"
"And how. Heya, Jack...Crutchy got soaked by a coupla scabbers who took his coat and gloves." The anger was creeping back into Blink's voice. If one of us caught up to the bums that beat up Crutchy, they'd end up bein' the ones that needed a crutch.
"He know who they were?"
"No, but if he sees 'em again, he's gonna let us know."
"Then we'll soak 'em, 'cause I ain't havin' nobody beatin' up my newsies."
I had to laugh to myself at that. His newsies. He was growin' apart from us, and seemed to be the only one that didn't know it.
And, suddenly, I knew why. I was already wishing with all my heart that I belonged with a family like the Jacobs', and finding reasons to go by their place. If I was doing that, what was it like for Jack? What kinda longing was he feeling for Sarah and her family?
I'd been such a heel.
"Hey, Jack?"
I could hear the bedsprings creak as Jack flopped down on his cot. "Yeah, Race?"
"If ya find those scabbers that beat up Crutchy, let me know. I'll help ya soak 'em."
"Sure Race. Wouldn't have it any other way."
The words were casual, but I could hear the smile in his voice. In our own way, I'd apologized and he'd accepted. One less thing to worry about as I tried to get to sleep that night.
The next morning, I set off to Grand Central Station with Skittery and Boots. They were my lookouts and backup for what I was about to do. See, with Christmas comin' up soon, the hoity-toity boarding schools were closing for winter break. The rich kids were comin' home for the holidays. Easy pickins.
I found a nice private corner near a pretzel vendor then headed out into the crowd. I took my time and spent most of the morning just watching. Waiting for just the right stooge.
And they finally arrived.
I spotted two kids in dark gray uniforms and warm, navy wool coats coming toward me. They had camera bags slung over their shoulders, bulging wallets in their pockets and didn't seem to pay a bit of attention to anyone around them. If I didn't get 'em, a pickpocket would.
The taller kid looked about 16 or 17, with short brown hair and dark eyes. I could tell by the way he looked at the shorter kid when he talked, that he thought he was a leader. That he was somethin' because he was rich. I'd fix that. The shorter kid seemed about 14 and looked up at the older kid with the same hero worship in his blue eyes that Les had in his eyes for Jack.
Oh, brother. This would be easy. But only if the kids had to wait for their drivers. I followed them outside and crossed my fingers as the older kid looked around at the carriages lined up in front of the station. I saw him shake his head and the two wandered back inside. With a sly smile, I followed them inside.
Sure enough, they eventually went over to the pretzel vendor to get something to eat. As they walked away with their hot pretzels, I 'accidentally' bumped into the older kid.
"Hey, watch what you're doing."
"Sorry, kid. Didn't mean to bump into ya."
"Just who are you calling 'kid'? I bet I'm older than you."
"Hey, no offense." This was easier than I thought. "You like to bet?"
"What do you mean?" A little suspicion crept into his voice, and I could see the nervousness on the face of the younger kid.
"You guys ever play poker? I'm waitin' on a coupla friends and playin' cards is as good a way as any other to pass the time. I'm not all that great at poker, but we could have some fun while I'm waitin' for my friends. Oh, unless you kids hafta go or somethin'."
That did it. The older kid didn't like the idea of me being able to do something he couldn't do, and he was stupid enough to think I was tellin' the truth about my ability to play poker.
"Sure, I guess we can play cards. It appears our chauffeur has yet to arrive and it's too cold outside to wait."
"Great. Here's a good place over here. Out of the way of the crowd."
Good thing I wasn't a pickpocket, 'cause the ignorant schoolboys followed me over to the private corner I'd found earlier. I slid down the wall to sit on the floor and pulled my worn deck of cards from my pocket. As I shuffled the cards, the two boys sat down across from me. The youngest shifted nervously and cleared his throat. "What's your name?"
Well, considerin' I was about to take their shirts, I wasn't gonna give 'em a name that could be used to find me. "Name's Tony. Yours?"
The younger boy made the introductions. "I'm William and this is my cousin, John."
"Glad to meat ya. How 'bout five card stud?"
And the games began. I didn't even cheat. I kept the betting to small coins then suggested one last hand with a bigger gamble. When asked what we were gambling on, I told 'em I'd put in my gold watch if they'd put in their nice wool coats. I guess they figured it was no real gamble, since Daddy would buy them new coats if they lost. They agreed and I dealt the cards for one last hand.
It wasn't a gamble for them, maybe, but it was sure a gamble for me. That watch was the most important thing I owned. I traded two cards and held my breath. It wasn't the best hand in the world, but it would be enough. I hoped. William laid his cards on the cold marble floor with a disappointed sigh. Junk. I watched John's face and could tell the kid thought he really had something. I hoped he was wrong.
"Pair of aces."
"Pretty good." But not good enough. "Full House. Thanks for the coats, kids, we really need 'em."
John didn't take that as well as I'd hoped. He stood as I gathered up the cards and picked his navy blue coat up from the floor. "You probably cheated, you street rat. I'm not giving you my coat."
I slipped the deck of cards into my pocket and climbed to my feet. "You welchin' on a bet, kid? What about you, William? You a cheater, too?"
William was obviously torn between keeping his word and standing with his cousin. To make the decision easier I slipped my cap off and stuck it in my pocket. That was the signal. Quicker than you can blink, Skittery and Boots were standin' behind me. "Hey, this kid thinks he's gonna welch on a bet. Can you believe that?"
Cracking his knuckles and looking as dark and menacing as he's capable of, Skittery shook his head and nudged Boots. "Nah, I can't believe that. We don't think too kindly o' welchers around here, kid. I hope you reconsider."
Boots crossed his arms and braced himself for a fight. It was three seasoned fighters against two soft schoolboys. Even John realized the mistake he'd made. But he wasn't going to give in with good grace. He tossed the coat at me as he shoved past. William handed his own coat to Boots and shot me an apologetic look, before following his older cousin outside to the carriage that had arrived during our game.
I handed John's coat to Skittery, slipped out of David's hand-me-down and swapped it with William's coat. It almost fit me like a glove. William had been my height, but not quite as skinny. With a smile of satisfaction, I tucked Dave's old coat under my arm.
"Thanks for the help, fellas."
Skittery held out the coat he was holding. "Who gets this one?"
I shrugged my shoulders, not really sure. "Give it to Dutchy. The coat he's wearin' is so full of holes he might as well not be wearin' anything. I'll give Dave's coat to Crutchy."
I buttoned up the coat as I walked out the door of Grand Central and slipped my cap back on. Boots followed me as I turned in the direction of Duane Street. "Hey, Race, wait up. Did you cheat this time?"
Patting my vest pocket through the heavy wool coat, I smiled at the reassuring bulge of the gold watch that rested there. "Nope. Won it fair and square. I only cheat when we're playing Brooklyn. They're too cocky for their own good. Need to be taken down a peg or two now and then."
I slung my arm over his shoulders and laughed. "'Course, I can't let Spot catch me at it, or he'll toss me in the river."
"That why you came back after a poker game soakin' wet a few months ago?"
Well, Boots was my friend so I couldn't really lie to him. "Yeah, well...Spot's got sharp eyes. And he did let me hand over my watch and harmonica 'fore he tossed me in."
"What are friends for?"
A heavy dose of sarcasm tainted his words, but deep down...he meant it. We hopped on the back of a delivery wagon and rode most of the way back to the lodgin' house. The driver noticed us about halfway back, but let us hitch a ride anyways. Maybe it was the spirit of the season.
Boots was grinnin' from ear to ear when we handed David's old coat to Crutchy. He seemed a little reluctant to take it, 'til I convinced him I hadn't cheated anyone to get the coat I was wearin'. 'Sides, I told him Dave would be happy that his old coat was keepin' Crutchy warm.
Dave's reaction turned out to be a little different, when we all turned up at the World for the evening edition.
"Didn't you like the coat, Race? You know, my Mom sent it over just for you."
Great, now I felt about two inches tall. Not for giving the coat to Crutchy, 'cause it made better sense. The coat I was wearin' would've been too short in the sleeves for Crutchy. No, I was feelin' like a scab 'cause I knew darn well I was glad to get rid of the coat. The coat Mrs. Jacobs had meant for me. The one that reminded me every moment I wore it, of the life I'd lost.
"Sure I liked it, Dave, but it don't make sense for me to keep it when it fits Crutchy better. What's more important, anyways? Your mother's feelings or Crutchy stayin' warm?"
Hm. Maybe I could've said that a little better.
Looking up from where he'd been showing off a new Hanukkah gift, Les frowned at me. I guess he'd heard that last part. He handed the shiny new top to Jackrabbit and came over to join me, Dave and Jack. Great.
"My mother's feelings are important, Racetrack."
"I'm sure they are, kid, but not as important as Crutchy. I know that coat was a gift to me from your mother, but that don't make any difference. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure these guys all make it through the winter."
I could tell by the look in the kid's eyes that he was mad at me, but what was I gonna do? "Look, Les, go back over there and play with Jackrabbit 'n the others. This ain't got nothin' to do with you."
He gave me a dirty look, but he went. And that didn't sit too well with Dave. "Hey, Race, you let me worry about my brother."
"Gladly." It seemed no matter what, this wasn't gonna turn out the way I planned. "Thanks for the coat, Dave, but it's none o' your business what I do with it. You go home tonight to your mother, father, brother and sister. You eat a nice hot meal, put on a nice clean nightshirt and get under a pile of nice clean quilts. Then you think about the kids that ain't got nothin'. Then you worry about your damn old coat you can't even wear no more!"
Jack shook his head and reached out to try to get me to shut up, but I was on a roll and couldn't seem to stop the words. I glanced over at Les then back at Davey. I poked him in the chest with my finger, angry at just about everything at the moment. "You let me worry about my brothers."
I turned on my heels and walked away. Well, stomped away is probably more like it. Jack yelled after me, as I walked through the gates, "Race, where ya goin'?"
I didn't even look back. "I'm gonna sell in Brooklyn. Nobody cares what I'm wearin', there."
Most of the Brooklyn newsies had already gotten their papes by the time I got to their distribution center. A few stragglers were there, though, and one big kid gave me what was supposed to be a friendly shove as I joined the line. After picking myself up from the ground, I rubbed the sore spot on my shoulder.
"Hey, Bruiser, how's it rollin'?"
"They throw you outta Manhattan, Racetrack?"
The Brooklyn kids all thought that was just the funniest thing they'd ever heard and all but fell over laughing. Either that, or they were humoring a kid that could break them in half without even breaking a sweat.
"Nah, just thought I needed a change of scenery. 'Course, if I'd known you were part of the scenery, I'd've stayed home."
Luckily for me, Bruiser thought that was funny. He roared with laughter and slapped me on the shoulder. Surprisingly, my arm only felt like it had been torn off. Resisting the urge to rub my shoulder, I checked the faces of the kids gathered in the courtyard. "Where's Spot?"
"Sellin' over at the harbor. Trouble?"
Not the kind he was thinkin' about. "Nah, just thought I'd see if he was up to a game."
"I dunno. Things is pretty tight these days."
"Yeah, same with us. How're your numbers?"
"Growin' every night. A lot o' the factory kids lost their jobs and are lookin' for work. With no place else to go, they end up at the lodgin' houses."
Looked like Brooklyn had it worse than we did. "Yeah, we got more than usual, too. If you hafta find places for some o' your factory kids, send 'em to Manhattan. We still have a few beds and there's always the floor."
"We'll keep that in mind, Race." Bruiser was next in line so he slid his coins under the bars and got his papes. "Be seein' ya 'round, Manhattan."
"See ya."
I paid for my own papes and headed in the direction of the harbor. It didn't take me too long to find Spot. I could hear him long before I could see him. They call Dave the Mouth, but let me tell ya...Spot could easily earn that nickname.
"Extry, extry! Winter kills thousands!"
Chuckling, I waited 'til all his customers had paid for their papes and left before walkin' up behind him. "Somehow I don't think they'll be expecting a story about the early winter killin' off a buncha rats."
Flashing me a cocky grin, Spot shrugged and shouted his headline once more. "What brings you to Brooklyn, Race? And why're you carryin' a stack o' papes?"
"Mind if I sell in Brooklyn today, Spot?"
"What was you gonna do if I said no?"
Shooting him my own cocky grin, I shrugged one shoulder. "Sell 'em anyways."
"Thought so. Sure, what's one more newsie?" Jiggling his stack of papes to straighten out a few that had begun to slip, Spot squinted at me. "You didn't answer my first question."
With a sigh, I wondered where to begin. "I just need to get outta Manhattan for a day, is all. Dave's mad at me for givin' his coat to Crutchy. Les is mad at me for somethin' I said that came out the wrong way. Jack is probably mad at me for yellin' at Dave. Just seems no matter what I do, somebody's gonna be mad at me."
"I have no idea what you're talkin' about, but what d'ya care what anybody thinks about ya anyway? You know they'll forget all about it in a few days."
"Probably."
Spot stared at me with those piercing blue eyes and I could tell he was lookin' through my poker face. He was about the only one that could. "What's really botherin' you?"
I know it was an unwritten rule to not talk about the past, but I just felt like I was gonna bust open if I didn't talk to somebody. "I been thinkin' about my mother a lot lately. Rememberin' things. Good things. Things I miss and wish I could have back."
Jerking his head in the direction of some buildings, Spot led me over to a narrow place between two warehouses. Sitting on an empty barrel, he gestured me over to a wooden crate opposite. "You know it don't do anybody any good to dwell on the past, Race."
"I know, but I can't seem to help it. It's Jack. He's always over at Dave's. I seen their family, Spot. It's nice. Real nice. He's over there, with a mother and father, a girl and two brothers. Like being part of a family. A real honest to goodness family."
"And you wish it was you?"
Running my finger over the newspaper I held in my lap, I looked down and nodded my head. "I know I should be happy for him, and I am. I just wish...he'll be leavin' soon, ya know."
"Yeah. I seen that during the strike. Jack's got a dream. And there ain't nothin' wrong with havin' dreams. It's all we newsies have. But dreams don't do you any good if it's dreams of a past you can't ever get back. Kids like me and you, Race...we ain't got nobody but ourselves and the other newsies. That ain't so bad, really. A lotta people ain't that lucky."
Wow. I don't think I'd ever heard Spot say so much in one breath before. Especially not said that seriously. He actually sounded smart. I looked at him with a new respect and shrugged. "Guess I just need a break from the guys, is all. A break from worryin' about getting everyone through the winter."
Out of Manhattan so I wouldn't be tempted to walk past the Jacob's building again.
"Yeah, I been doin' the same worryin'." Spot chuckled softly. "Times like this, I wish I'd done what you did."
"What's that?"
"Said no when asked if ya wanted to be the next leader."
"Lotta good it did me."
"You gonna take over when Jack leaves?"
That question made me a little uncomfortable. It made the idea of Jack leavin' a little too real. Too immediate. I wasn't ready for Jack to go. He was my friend, my leader...my brother. But I couldn't deny that I'd been thinking about the future lately.
"No. Not really. I don't think we'll have another leader. Not like before. Me, Blink, Mush, Skits and few others that's been around a while...we'll sort of be a committee. Take votes and things like that. Work together, so no one person has to carry the full load, ya know?"
Spot tilted his head and seemed to think about it. "You know, I think Manhattan's about the only place where that'd work. Well, Brooklyn is here if you ever need us."
"Yeah, I know. Thanks for that, Spot."
"What're friends for?"
Spot spit in his hand and held it out as he stood. I spit in my own palm and slapped it against his for a handshake of friendship and loyalty. We grinned at each other and stepped back out onto the harbor street to discover it had begun to snow. The fluffy wet stuff was drifting lazily now, but we both knew it could pick up faster than you can blink.
"I better head back to Manhattan before this gets any worse, Spot."
"Yeah, don't want a soft bum like you getting caught in a blizzard or nothin'."
"Very funny, Spot. You just worry about yourself."
I waved my arm and headed in the opposite direction from Spot, back to my own territory. By the time I got to the bridge, the snow had picked up. It was comin' down fast enough that you could hear it as it landed on the streets and buildings, leaving a fine dusting of white on everything and making the cobblestone streets slippery and wet. Despite the cold, despite the weather...I felt a lot better than I had that morning, though I'm not sure why.
When I opened the door to the lodgin' house...well, the wind blew it open...about ten anxious faces turned to stare at me. I could see the relief in each and every smile. Hurrying inside, I managed to shut the door with a little effort. Shivering, I stamped the snow off my boots and smiled at them. "I take it I'm the last one back?"
Kloppman slid the registry book across the desk so I could sign it, and nodded. "You're the last one, Racetrack. Plus a few new ones."
"Yeah, figured. It's nasty out there."
Tonight would be a killer, sure as shootin'. I was glad none o' our boys would be out there in it. But a lot of other kids would be.
Jack seemed to read my mind. He jerked his head toward the stairs and I followed him up. Blink, Mush, Skitts, Snaps, Dutchy and Specs followed behind. I had a feeling they'd all had a meeting of some sort while I was on my way back from Brooklyn. Jack bypassed the bunkroom where a bunch of boys were roughhousing and led us all up to the attic instead.
Sitting down on one the trunks, Jack waited for the rest of us to find a place on a trunk lid or the floor before starting. "This snow don't look like it's gonna let up tonight. I don't wanna get up in the morning and see a buncha frozen street kids on my way to the World. We still got room. It'll be getting dark, soon, but we got time to make a sweep o' the streets and offer a place to sleep to any kid we can find. If they ain't got the money, I'm sure Kloppy ain't gonna turn 'em away. We can use some of our winter savings if we have to."
He got no arguments from us. We spent precious minutes deciding who would go where, but we were hurrying down the stairs in no time. We left Crutchy in charge, explained where we was goin' and waved to Kloppy as we stepped back out into the blowing snow. We huddled together for a moment, arms crossed and chins tucked into turned up collars, looked at other in a silent plea to be careful then headed out in separate directions.
Yep, as poor as we were...we were luckier than some. Maybe tonight we could change the luck of some other poor kid.