RATING: PG language and theme
Family by any uddah name: Chapter 6
Race was sitting in the lobby of the Lodging House, he'd pulled one of the chairs from the table he usually played poker at in the evenings, and sat looking out the window, chewing on his unlit cigar. Where da hell did they go?
He had told Jack he would take care of Crutchy and the Delanceys, and he had been true to his word. He'd helped get Crutchy and Specs back to the LH and the Delanceys were spending the night in jail. He wasn't a rat, he was just sick of them beatin up on Crutchy every chance they got. One of these days it would go to far, for him that day had long since passed, and end up killin the kid. He wasn't easily scared but he was very concerned for Crutchy, and each time the Delanceys thumped on Crutchy, he seemed to lose just a little of the spark in his eyes. To Racetrack, that was the worst thing he could imagine, Crutchy was a good kid and even though he'd had a hard life in is short 17 years, and always had a smile and something nice to say about nearly everyone.
A horse-drawn trolley car pulled up in front of the Lodging House. Race saw the tall kid in the baggy clothing, the one that had been beating on Oscar Delancey, pulling Jack from the trolley car. Jack was pasty white and clutching his side. Before Jack was even all the way out of the trolley, Race was on his feet and out the door. "Klopman! Deh'r heah!" He shouted.
Race bounded out to meet them. "You look like hell, Cowboy." He didn't mean it to sound as harsh as it did, but he was tellin the truth and they all knew it. The scrappy little Italian flung his arm around Jack's waist on his left side. With nearly a foot difference in their heights Race wasn't much help to lean on, but he could help steady him.
Stretch, Mayo and Ershey, had accompanied Specs, Crutchy, Mush and Race back to the LH to look after the injured boys. Ershey had been busy running around, getting things that Stretch and Mayo asked for in caring for the boys. When Race told her that Jack and the new kid would likely be back and needing beds, she made up Jack's bed and another close by.
Petite was a good word for describing Ershey. She stood only 5'2, that's shorter than Racetrack, which he liked as it ment he wasn't the smallest one in the Lodging House. She was thin and the guys teased her about being blown away with the wind if it was particularly gusty. She'd been with them ever since Race caught her lifting his money from his pocket at Sheepshead Bay. He'd felt sorry for her and that, as they say, was that.
"What's wrong wit him?" Ershey asked. She had deep brown eyes, the color of the darkest chocolate, her ebony hair hung straight, nearly to her waist, and had an almost blue sheen to it.
" Broken ribs, we need ta get him intae bed."
"Hello?" Jack protested hoarsely, but they ignored him. "I'm right here, Scrappah, stop talkin like I ain't."
"Shuddup, Jack!" Race and Ershey said in unison. Jack didn't have the energy to fight them.
Ershey led them up the stairs to the bunk room. Jack wished they would have just let him pass out on the bench in the lobby. Each step jarred his ribs and sent searing pain through his lungs.
Finally, they reached the bunk room. He was glad to have Scrapper helping, had it just been Race and Ershey, he was sure he would have toppled backwards on the steep stairs and fallen on his head.
"Where's Specs n Crutchy?" Jack demanded once he was able to catch his breath.
"In da sick room." Race said quietly. "Stretch n Mayo's in deah wit em."
The Manhattan Lodging House had a small room next to the large shared washroom. It had two single beds, a table between them, and a few chairs.
Jack knocked softly on the closed door. "Fellas?" He opened the door. The electric pull light was off, but there was soft light from a single oil lamp sitting on the table. Both beds were occupied by sleeping boys. "Stretch? Mayo?" Jack whispered, not wanting to disturb them.
Stretch, looked up, and smiled slightly at the well worn cowboy. "You look like Hell, Jack"
Jack choked on a laugh. "Yeah, been hearin that a lot taday." He felt like Hell. Bruises had started to form on his chest and face and the rest of him ached from the fight. "How ya doin kiddo?" He gave Stretch a hug from behind, saving his ribs.
"I'm alright," she said, trying to sound semi cheerful. "But looks like four-eyes here ain't doin' so hot," she finished, glancing back down at Specs. His bloody wound had been cleaned but not by a doctor. If it was left the way it was he would have a terrific scar. Jack wished he had the money to hire a doctor for him.
"Dis heah is Scrappah." Jack motioned to the tall kid in the doorway. "'e's da one dat rescued Specs."
"Hiya" Scrapper said softly.
Scrapper looked even worse than Jack did. The whole left side of the kid's face was swollen and purple. There was a small gash, from a ring Oscar was wearing, under his left eye and his lip was split and swollen. Plus he was covered in drying blood.
Stretch smiled up at him. "Thanks."
"Sorry I couldnae stop him from doin that." Scrapper motioned to the gash near Specs eye. "Have you called for a doctor?"
Stretch chuckled slightly. "Right, a doctah," she said, somewhat sarcastic and somewhat distressed. "Dey don't come if youse can't pay."
"D'ya mind if Ah tak' a look?"
"Sure, look all ya want" she said, getting up from his side and stepping out of the way. "Youse jist bettah not hoit 'im."
"Ah'll do me best." Scrapper removed the bandaging that was on the boys eye and began probing around. He too had a "nice shine-ah" as Spot had put it. There were still a few shards of glass imbeded, and the wound needed stitches. Both were things Scrapper had handled before. "Ershey, Race, would ya fetch some supplies for me?" They both nodded. Scrapper gave them a list of items, fresh water, bandages, forceps, needle and thread. "And the best whisky you can find, Race."
"Whisky?" Stretch asked, anxiety building inside her.
"Just ta dull the pain," Scraps said, before leaning over to carefully look at the wound. "He'll be needin a good bit of ya best stuff, too. But, if he gets a fever, the pain is gonna be the least of our troubles."
"Blin!" she exclaimed to herself, before sitting down and whispering, "Vsyo puchkom, Vsyo puchkom," over and over again. Despite being battered and exhausted, Jack walked over and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, assuring her it would be alright.
"Don't worry, Stretch. He ain't gonna let nuttin hoit him woise," Jack said, yet the slight pale color in his face showed the apprehension beneath his words. "Me da was a surgeon, taught me a few things that kin 'elp. Nae worries," he said before taking out remaining shards of glass from the large cut above Specs's eye. "Just.hold him down."
The young woman's eyes were still full of worry but she had no choice, Specs was her world and she wanted him well . "Will do, I'll just pretend he pissed me off. Dumbass hot-headed..." Stretch said, beginning to wind herself up in case the opportunity presented itself. Watching as Scraps forced him to drink some whisky, keeping him from spitting it out in the process, Stretch struggled to keep his limbs from flaying in all directions.
"Someone help us out here!" Jack yelled out to others waiting in the bunkroom. Moments later, Blink appeared, ready and raring to go in the doorway.
"Can someone else come and help us?" Jack yelled out again as his eyes spotted the eager Blink in the doorway.
"What's wrong with him helping'?" Scrappah asked, as he began the first stitch to sew Specs's wound. Almost instantaneously, Blink passed out, Scrappah staring in his direction in utter confusion, yet those who knew him well enough simply pushed him aside and waited until later to deal with him.
"He hates blood," Race answered from the doorway, yet at this point the fact was unnecessary, and Scraps simply shrugged and continued with the problem at hand. Race and Stretch held Specs down, Jack at his head to keep it still.
Stretch simply shook her head. "Men are such babies," she whispered under her breath before yelling, "Stop strugglin', it doesnt hurt!" at Specs. Scraps laughed under his breath at the hot-headed girl before him.
"Ya still wit me lass?" he asked her. It couldn't be easy to watch someone you care about hurt like that.
"Yeah, I'm still with ya. But the sooner we get this over with the better," she said, still struggling to keep Specs down. "Do ya want me ya hit ya? I will. I swear ta God and all that is good and holy, I will beat the...." she continued.
Before long, Scraps had Specs sutured and bandaged, and Crutchy's bleeding leg dressed with what little bandage material they had. Watching as Jack and Race left to go for a walk, worn out from the day's events, Scraps turned to the now calm Stretch in an attempt to start a conversation that didn't involve blood and needles.
"Who's that?" Scraps asked, looking at Blink who was now pushed out of the way, still lying unconscious near the sleeping Crutchy.
"That's Kid Blink. Nice kid. Good intentions. Best not ta ask 'bout the eye patch though. No one knows the truth 'bout that but him and God, and I ain't about ta ask neither."
"I'll keep that in mind," he laughed, suddenly becoming more comfortable in the quiet room with the newsgirl there to talk to. "Do you know where I can get cleaned up? Or new clothes? Anything?" Stretch nodded, and carefully leaving Specs's side, she led Scraps down the hall to a small closet, filled with old tattered shirts, torn pants, and worn boots.
"Everything ya need is in there. If something' don't fit, just say something' and one of the boys is bound ta trade something' with ya." As Scraps picked out several shirts and pairs of pants to try on, Stretch showed him around the lodging house, introducing the odd newsie they would occasionally bump into on the grand tour.
".And this is the place we sleep. The infamous bunkroom. Loads of noise, until Kloppy comes ta threaten ta throw us all out on the streets, waving' a broom around," the newsgirl finished, laughing to herself at the thought.
"An' where can ya go ta just.get away?" Scrappah asked, looking around his new busy sleeping quarters.
"Easy. The roof. Half of these boys is afraid of heights and the other half is too busy ta want quiet half the time. A good place ta just gather ya thoughts. If ya want ya can go up there now. I'll make sure no one bothers ya."
Scrappah smiled gratefully, and crawled out to the fire escape and up to the roof. As he, or rather she now, seeing as she was allowed to think and act however she wanted now she was on her own, sat there staring at the evening sky, she breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't the worst it could have been, and at least Specs and Crutchy, not to mention Jack, were all alright now. Bringing her legs to her chest and resting her head on her knees, she thought of all that had happened, all that could happened, and thought it best to spend as little time with the newsies as possible. Sure, they were nice and all, but she couldn't risk them finding out her secret, no matter how badly she wanted to tell them. Not only would she be in danger if that happened, they would too. Namely Jack.
Consequently, she spent the majority of the next few days on the roof, yet her heart was inside the noisy bunkroom, dying to converse with rambunctious crowd inside.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ END CHAPTER 6 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Special thanks to Stretch!!!! Without her I would still be stuck and you wouldn't be reading this! She helped write a good deal of this chapter and she did a fabulous job! Thanks TWINNY! Mwah! xoxoxox
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Newsies (sniffle sniffle sob) This is written for entertainment purposes only. Sage/Scrapper is mine, Ershey, Stretch and Mayo appear thanks to their creators. THANKS GOILS!
SO:
Stretchy: Honey you are awesome! Thank you so much for your help! Mwah! Ershey: Your endless energy for reading my story keeps me going! I will get your stuff edited soon I PROMISE!
Mayo: Heya sweetie, I will actually give you stuff to do soon I promise!
Angelstar: Awesome ideas and support as always! Luv ya goily!
Ry: LOL! You are so cute! My sexy kilted man...hey, guys that like Newsies are a good thing in my book! We need to work on our fic! I'm so glad you luv Chloe! MWAH xxxx
Hopey: Hiya sistah! We need to work on that RP! I am excited to get to the next scene for the Story! YAY! Get your stuff up so I can read it! ALL of your stuff! Hurry! Hee Hee! Xxxx
Gin: You are so lovely! Keep writing am am dying to read your next chapter!
Ladykins: Oh! Hurry and catch up so you can tell me what you think! And can't wait for your ff! YAY
Snooza1: *GRINZ* Jack and Haley are really cute aren't they? Hee hee! He may get to have his own later on I don't know.
And to anyone I may have missed: I LOVE YOU!
Keep reading and reviewing! I love to hear from you all!
Family by any uddah name: Chapter 6
Race was sitting in the lobby of the Lodging House, he'd pulled one of the chairs from the table he usually played poker at in the evenings, and sat looking out the window, chewing on his unlit cigar. Where da hell did they go?
He had told Jack he would take care of Crutchy and the Delanceys, and he had been true to his word. He'd helped get Crutchy and Specs back to the LH and the Delanceys were spending the night in jail. He wasn't a rat, he was just sick of them beatin up on Crutchy every chance they got. One of these days it would go to far, for him that day had long since passed, and end up killin the kid. He wasn't easily scared but he was very concerned for Crutchy, and each time the Delanceys thumped on Crutchy, he seemed to lose just a little of the spark in his eyes. To Racetrack, that was the worst thing he could imagine, Crutchy was a good kid and even though he'd had a hard life in is short 17 years, and always had a smile and something nice to say about nearly everyone.
A horse-drawn trolley car pulled up in front of the Lodging House. Race saw the tall kid in the baggy clothing, the one that had been beating on Oscar Delancey, pulling Jack from the trolley car. Jack was pasty white and clutching his side. Before Jack was even all the way out of the trolley, Race was on his feet and out the door. "Klopman! Deh'r heah!" He shouted.
Race bounded out to meet them. "You look like hell, Cowboy." He didn't mean it to sound as harsh as it did, but he was tellin the truth and they all knew it. The scrappy little Italian flung his arm around Jack's waist on his left side. With nearly a foot difference in their heights Race wasn't much help to lean on, but he could help steady him.
Stretch, Mayo and Ershey, had accompanied Specs, Crutchy, Mush and Race back to the LH to look after the injured boys. Ershey had been busy running around, getting things that Stretch and Mayo asked for in caring for the boys. When Race told her that Jack and the new kid would likely be back and needing beds, she made up Jack's bed and another close by.
Petite was a good word for describing Ershey. She stood only 5'2, that's shorter than Racetrack, which he liked as it ment he wasn't the smallest one in the Lodging House. She was thin and the guys teased her about being blown away with the wind if it was particularly gusty. She'd been with them ever since Race caught her lifting his money from his pocket at Sheepshead Bay. He'd felt sorry for her and that, as they say, was that.
"What's wrong wit him?" Ershey asked. She had deep brown eyes, the color of the darkest chocolate, her ebony hair hung straight, nearly to her waist, and had an almost blue sheen to it.
" Broken ribs, we need ta get him intae bed."
"Hello?" Jack protested hoarsely, but they ignored him. "I'm right here, Scrappah, stop talkin like I ain't."
"Shuddup, Jack!" Race and Ershey said in unison. Jack didn't have the energy to fight them.
Ershey led them up the stairs to the bunk room. Jack wished they would have just let him pass out on the bench in the lobby. Each step jarred his ribs and sent searing pain through his lungs.
Finally, they reached the bunk room. He was glad to have Scrapper helping, had it just been Race and Ershey, he was sure he would have toppled backwards on the steep stairs and fallen on his head.
"Where's Specs n Crutchy?" Jack demanded once he was able to catch his breath.
"In da sick room." Race said quietly. "Stretch n Mayo's in deah wit em."
The Manhattan Lodging House had a small room next to the large shared washroom. It had two single beds, a table between them, and a few chairs.
Jack knocked softly on the closed door. "Fellas?" He opened the door. The electric pull light was off, but there was soft light from a single oil lamp sitting on the table. Both beds were occupied by sleeping boys. "Stretch? Mayo?" Jack whispered, not wanting to disturb them.
Stretch, looked up, and smiled slightly at the well worn cowboy. "You look like Hell, Jack"
Jack choked on a laugh. "Yeah, been hearin that a lot taday." He felt like Hell. Bruises had started to form on his chest and face and the rest of him ached from the fight. "How ya doin kiddo?" He gave Stretch a hug from behind, saving his ribs.
"I'm alright," she said, trying to sound semi cheerful. "But looks like four-eyes here ain't doin' so hot," she finished, glancing back down at Specs. His bloody wound had been cleaned but not by a doctor. If it was left the way it was he would have a terrific scar. Jack wished he had the money to hire a doctor for him.
"Dis heah is Scrappah." Jack motioned to the tall kid in the doorway. "'e's da one dat rescued Specs."
"Hiya" Scrapper said softly.
Scrapper looked even worse than Jack did. The whole left side of the kid's face was swollen and purple. There was a small gash, from a ring Oscar was wearing, under his left eye and his lip was split and swollen. Plus he was covered in drying blood.
Stretch smiled up at him. "Thanks."
"Sorry I couldnae stop him from doin that." Scrapper motioned to the gash near Specs eye. "Have you called for a doctor?"
Stretch chuckled slightly. "Right, a doctah," she said, somewhat sarcastic and somewhat distressed. "Dey don't come if youse can't pay."
"D'ya mind if Ah tak' a look?"
"Sure, look all ya want" she said, getting up from his side and stepping out of the way. "Youse jist bettah not hoit 'im."
"Ah'll do me best." Scrapper removed the bandaging that was on the boys eye and began probing around. He too had a "nice shine-ah" as Spot had put it. There were still a few shards of glass imbeded, and the wound needed stitches. Both were things Scrapper had handled before. "Ershey, Race, would ya fetch some supplies for me?" They both nodded. Scrapper gave them a list of items, fresh water, bandages, forceps, needle and thread. "And the best whisky you can find, Race."
"Whisky?" Stretch asked, anxiety building inside her.
"Just ta dull the pain," Scraps said, before leaning over to carefully look at the wound. "He'll be needin a good bit of ya best stuff, too. But, if he gets a fever, the pain is gonna be the least of our troubles."
"Blin!" she exclaimed to herself, before sitting down and whispering, "Vsyo puchkom, Vsyo puchkom," over and over again. Despite being battered and exhausted, Jack walked over and put a comforting hand on her shoulder, assuring her it would be alright.
"Don't worry, Stretch. He ain't gonna let nuttin hoit him woise," Jack said, yet the slight pale color in his face showed the apprehension beneath his words. "Me da was a surgeon, taught me a few things that kin 'elp. Nae worries," he said before taking out remaining shards of glass from the large cut above Specs's eye. "Just.hold him down."
The young woman's eyes were still full of worry but she had no choice, Specs was her world and she wanted him well . "Will do, I'll just pretend he pissed me off. Dumbass hot-headed..." Stretch said, beginning to wind herself up in case the opportunity presented itself. Watching as Scraps forced him to drink some whisky, keeping him from spitting it out in the process, Stretch struggled to keep his limbs from flaying in all directions.
"Someone help us out here!" Jack yelled out to others waiting in the bunkroom. Moments later, Blink appeared, ready and raring to go in the doorway.
"Can someone else come and help us?" Jack yelled out again as his eyes spotted the eager Blink in the doorway.
"What's wrong with him helping'?" Scrappah asked, as he began the first stitch to sew Specs's wound. Almost instantaneously, Blink passed out, Scrappah staring in his direction in utter confusion, yet those who knew him well enough simply pushed him aside and waited until later to deal with him.
"He hates blood," Race answered from the doorway, yet at this point the fact was unnecessary, and Scraps simply shrugged and continued with the problem at hand. Race and Stretch held Specs down, Jack at his head to keep it still.
Stretch simply shook her head. "Men are such babies," she whispered under her breath before yelling, "Stop strugglin', it doesnt hurt!" at Specs. Scraps laughed under his breath at the hot-headed girl before him.
"Ya still wit me lass?" he asked her. It couldn't be easy to watch someone you care about hurt like that.
"Yeah, I'm still with ya. But the sooner we get this over with the better," she said, still struggling to keep Specs down. "Do ya want me ya hit ya? I will. I swear ta God and all that is good and holy, I will beat the...." she continued.
Before long, Scraps had Specs sutured and bandaged, and Crutchy's bleeding leg dressed with what little bandage material they had. Watching as Jack and Race left to go for a walk, worn out from the day's events, Scraps turned to the now calm Stretch in an attempt to start a conversation that didn't involve blood and needles.
"Who's that?" Scraps asked, looking at Blink who was now pushed out of the way, still lying unconscious near the sleeping Crutchy.
"That's Kid Blink. Nice kid. Good intentions. Best not ta ask 'bout the eye patch though. No one knows the truth 'bout that but him and God, and I ain't about ta ask neither."
"I'll keep that in mind," he laughed, suddenly becoming more comfortable in the quiet room with the newsgirl there to talk to. "Do you know where I can get cleaned up? Or new clothes? Anything?" Stretch nodded, and carefully leaving Specs's side, she led Scraps down the hall to a small closet, filled with old tattered shirts, torn pants, and worn boots.
"Everything ya need is in there. If something' don't fit, just say something' and one of the boys is bound ta trade something' with ya." As Scraps picked out several shirts and pairs of pants to try on, Stretch showed him around the lodging house, introducing the odd newsie they would occasionally bump into on the grand tour.
".And this is the place we sleep. The infamous bunkroom. Loads of noise, until Kloppy comes ta threaten ta throw us all out on the streets, waving' a broom around," the newsgirl finished, laughing to herself at the thought.
"An' where can ya go ta just.get away?" Scrappah asked, looking around his new busy sleeping quarters.
"Easy. The roof. Half of these boys is afraid of heights and the other half is too busy ta want quiet half the time. A good place ta just gather ya thoughts. If ya want ya can go up there now. I'll make sure no one bothers ya."
Scrappah smiled gratefully, and crawled out to the fire escape and up to the roof. As he, or rather she now, seeing as she was allowed to think and act however she wanted now she was on her own, sat there staring at the evening sky, she breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't the worst it could have been, and at least Specs and Crutchy, not to mention Jack, were all alright now. Bringing her legs to her chest and resting her head on her knees, she thought of all that had happened, all that could happened, and thought it best to spend as little time with the newsies as possible. Sure, they were nice and all, but she couldn't risk them finding out her secret, no matter how badly she wanted to tell them. Not only would she be in danger if that happened, they would too. Namely Jack.
Consequently, she spent the majority of the next few days on the roof, yet her heart was inside the noisy bunkroom, dying to converse with rambunctious crowd inside.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ END CHAPTER 6 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Special thanks to Stretch!!!! Without her I would still be stuck and you wouldn't be reading this! She helped write a good deal of this chapter and she did a fabulous job! Thanks TWINNY! Mwah! xoxoxox
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Newsies (sniffle sniffle sob) This is written for entertainment purposes only. Sage/Scrapper is mine, Ershey, Stretch and Mayo appear thanks to their creators. THANKS GOILS!
SO:
Stretchy: Honey you are awesome! Thank you so much for your help! Mwah! Ershey: Your endless energy for reading my story keeps me going! I will get your stuff edited soon I PROMISE!
Mayo: Heya sweetie, I will actually give you stuff to do soon I promise!
Angelstar: Awesome ideas and support as always! Luv ya goily!
Ry: LOL! You are so cute! My sexy kilted man...hey, guys that like Newsies are a good thing in my book! We need to work on our fic! I'm so glad you luv Chloe! MWAH xxxx
Hopey: Hiya sistah! We need to work on that RP! I am excited to get to the next scene for the Story! YAY! Get your stuff up so I can read it! ALL of your stuff! Hurry! Hee Hee! Xxxx
Gin: You are so lovely! Keep writing am am dying to read your next chapter!
Ladykins: Oh! Hurry and catch up so you can tell me what you think! And can't wait for your ff! YAY
Snooza1: *GRINZ* Jack and Haley are really cute aren't they? Hee hee! He may get to have his own later on I don't know.
And to anyone I may have missed: I LOVE YOU!
Keep reading and reviewing! I love to hear from you all!