Keeping it Safe
Chapter Seven: Grit Slang

"The bright lights created starry holes in his eyes."

I think I would have been fine starting another poker game at Swifty's request, fine playing late and joking and laughing and trying my hardest to act 'normal,' fine ignoring the fact that two of the boys I had lived with for years were unconscious on their beds, even fine sitting across from and avoiding the gaze of a murderer. If Swifty didn't still have blood under his fingernails, I would have been fine.

I collapsed into bed as soon as I could, and still it was late into the night. The game was still going on, Swifty keeping them all in a good enough mood not to ask questions. Only Racetrack looked unsettled. I had placed the seed of doubt in his mind, and it showed.

I slipped into a dreamless sleep right away and woke at the same time as I always did, right before someone came up to shake the lazy ones awake… Snitch, at this point in time. Apparently Bumlets was still in bad shape. Everything felt normal as I dropped to the ground and made my way to the washroom, doing my best to dodge the smaller boys and get a spot by the sinks. It was too normal, it felt fake.

I was trying so hard to be normal that I barely noticed as the washroom began to empty out while I remained, continuing on a long morning routine that I was half making up. I ended up alone in front of one of the mirrors, watching tears run down my face, knuckles white where they gripped the edges of the sink. A forgotten razor lay in the sink itself, I had been about to shave before I realized I had gone through the motions already twice before. I barely head the hesitant footsteps outside and didn't bother to turn when Race re-entered the room. I choked back a sob and forced myself to look at my reflection, dirty, pale, red-eyed. A real mess.

"You selling?" Race asked, his voice surprisingly kind.

I leaned forward until my forehead was touching the cool surface of the mirror.

"Yeah," I said. Race kept moving towards me, seeming not to have heard my quiet answer. "Yeah," I said again, louder, and my voice cracked.

"Alright," Race sounded relieved. "Let's go. We won't be too far behind." But he didn't move, instead just turned away, waiting silently.

I took a few deep breaths and stood straight again. After another few moments I drew a shaky arm across my face, using my sleeve to wipe away any remnants of tears. My eyes remained red and slightly puffy. On the way out I grabbed my extra shirt, the rain had stopped during the night but outside it still looked cold and gray. Race followed me out, and downstairs Snitch waved a smug farewell. Both Race and I tipped our hats mockingly in reply, and once outside I smiled a little at the gesture.

Our walk to newspaper row was in silence, but when we arrived in sight of the headlines being written, all that changed. And we weren't all too far behind, either, Itey seemed to have taken a detour and joined us, munching a honeyed piece of bread happily.

"Morning," he said around a mouthful. "Great headline, eh?"

I paused outside the gates and glanced again to the World's board. "Ambassador Found Dead in Lover's Bed!" It announced. I smiled again.

"Not bad, not bad."

We entered through the gate and cut in near the front of the line where Dutchy let us in with a nod. Race was muttering to himself, already creating outrageous adaptations of the current headline.

"Would anyone notice if I changed it to 'mayor'"? he asked Itey, who was licking honey from his fingers.

"Of course not."

I bought a hundred and twenty papers and met with Race again outside the gates. Itey had already disappeared - he was good at that. Race set his own hefty stack of papers down for a minute and adjusted his suspenders.

"I'm going down to Sheepshead," he said. "The track's probably a little sloppy, but there will be a bunch of races today. Big crowds. So…"

"I'll come," I said. Race looked almost glad that he didn't have to ask the question himself. I squinted up at the sky, where the still-rising sun could be seen as a white outline behind the clouds. Race followed my gaze.

"Think it'll break through?"
"Maybe," I sighed. "Just maybe."

+

"Love kills British Ambassador in bed!"

"Mistresses' loving slays government hotshot!"

"Night of love turns deadly!"

"Thank you, sah."

Race and I found ourselves side by side among the railbirds and exchanged grins. Race had just sold his last paper, and I only had three left. It was still early.

"Slacker," Race said, indicating my remaining papers. I handed two to a pair of approaching track goers and ignored him. My pocket was heavy - it was nice. The air was brisk, but there was no mistaking the mood of early spring.

"Is this the first day the track's open?" I asked.

"Third. They've been running a bunch of claimers to get everyone warmed up. No use risking the more valuable horses in the cold… plus-"

I cut Race off before he could really get going on his favorite subject.

"Ok, so, I'll get rid of this on the way out and we can find some food."

"Yeah. We can sit down today," Race agreed. He brought a handful of coins from his pocket. "No need to steal this time. Besides, not many street vendors have started to set up."

"What to try The Traver?" I spoke of a small, tavern/diner near Sheepshead that was known for its dark interior and low prices. Race seemed to catch my drift.

"Time to talk," he said, and accepted my silence as conformation.

Between leaving Sheepshead gates and stepping through The Traver's doorway we spoke only of selling and the races we had seen, intentionally steering clear of anything relating to our current situation. That all changed when we sat down.

"Pie's disappeared and you have a problem with Swifty," race spoke in hushed tones. "Now, I have a few ideas of my own about… you know, what's happening… what happened… but I know I should hear it from you." He hesitated and gave me a strange look. "You've got a good head on your shoulders, Snoddy. Everyone knows it. That's why people are scared of you." I blinked. Scared? "Don't look so out of it. They know that you know things, that you see things. Bumlets, Snitch…" Another pause. "Swifty."

I tensed at the name.

"Yeah," Race said softly. "Swifty."

"Swifty killed Pie," I said in a rush. "I don't know why, I don't think… I know… Maybe I do. I don't… augh!" Anger began to replace my former sadness. "I mean -- they were friends! Like, partners, or something! It doesn't make sense."

Race didn't say anything, he studied his hands and sighed.

"Are you sure?"

I frowned. "Am I sure? What do you mean, am I sure? Remember? You saw me leave, saw me follow Pie. We talked about this last night. I followed Pie to keep him away from Jacklyn, and then Bumlets waited until we were gone to… oh." Race just nodded. "And I saw them -- Swifty and Bumlets -- walking together. Talking. But Swifty broke Bumlets' nose! They aren't supposed to be friends," I said numbly.

"I was right," Race said grimly. "And I think you get it."

"Swifty and Bumlets," I said. "Like a team. Then why did he help Pie out?"

Race frowned. He was thinking hard, so I sat back and thought to myself as well.

"His gain," I said a moment later.

"What?"

"His… what's the word. Advantage. You know? Swifty's not really one of us--"

"I know. Not anymore… he was," Race reminded me. I inclined my head. I remembered.

"He isn't anymore. And wasn't he getting ready to leave for good, before Kloppman died?"

Race was nodding slowly now. "So he stuck around to see who would take over. Why, though? To make sure we were all safe and sound in our beds?"

"No. To make sure Jack didn't get control. You know how he hates Jack."

"Everyone knows that," Race said. "Ok, that makes sense, then, if he and Pie were on friendly terms before, why not team up to keep Jack out? Right?"

"Yeah, that works. But I still think there was something more. Maybe Swifty owed him something?"

Race shrugged. "Who knows? We never will, at least. No one trustworthy left to ask, really."

Two bowls of murky soup were placed before us. I wiped off a spoon on a 'clean' spot on my shirt and dug in. Race took a few tentative bites and started up again.

"Alright, but then Swifty and Bumlets teamed up. He betrayed Pie. Broke the whole debt thing, if what you're saying is true."

"No… no," I mused. "Swifty had already paid off that debt by getting Pie in the Lodging House. I'd bet he was getting ready to leave again…"

"…and then Bumlets approached him," Race said with a sigh. He was playing restlessly with his food, I had almost finished mine. I had no idea what had been in it and wasn't eager to find out.

"Bumlets must have paid him," I realized. "I don't know how, but he must've. Swifty has no heart. He wouldn't have seen anything wrong with it. And Pie wouldn't have been paying him, of course. So then he played with Pie's emotions, using Jacklyn to get him to a place where he'd be off his guard."

"Who?"

"Jacklyn. That girl Pie was always with." I paused, then explained everything to him, about her and her role. Race was looking more disgusted by the minute. "But I don't know if she was in on the actual murder," I finished.

"Alright, I get it," said Race. "Besides, having him out with her all the time meant that Bumlets had the 'House to himself to get comfortable and get others on his side. Like Snitch."

"Yeah," I muttered. "Snitch. I really should get out of this whole business. I'm getting too old."

Race cracked a halfhearted smile but said nothing. He was probably less than a year younger than me, but he had a child's face. He could sell for years more.

"You think Swifty will leave now?" He asked after another minute.

"I guess… if he has nothing left to do."

"Good."

"Yeah."

"And…" Race hesitated, refusing to meet my eyes. "What are you going to do?"

"Hmm?"

"Swifty. I mean… he killed someone who was pretty much your best friend, Snoddy. There's no… laws… for street trash like us, you know? We make our own. I mean --"

"Revenge," I said quietly. "I've thought about it… don't think I haven't. But look at me. I'm no fighter, you know that. I'm not even mean spirited. I'm the quiet one"

"Aye, the quiet one who knows too much," Race said with a ghost of a smile. "Listen, I'll help you with… whatever you might need. I liked him too, you know. We all did."

I just nodded.

-

Author's Note: I apologize for the shortness and dryness of this chapter. I felt like it was necessary, though, both to review all this stuff that's happened so far (hopefully it's cleared some confusion?) and work on the relationship between Snoddy and Racetrack. Plenty of action next chapter, so don't fret!

THANK YOU SO MUCH REVIEWERS! I really do love you all. Keep on doing what you do best!

CELLO: I love you, wifey! Thanks for reading!
Tabloid: My other wifey! Of course you like Swifty. It takes effort not too. MONDIE. Er. Woo. Mmm, little cheeses. Makes me think of really boring reunion type places you go to that have REALLY good snacks.
Sita-Chan: Sistador! Oh man! That's it exactly, Blink is DEFINITELY a lapdog character. It's fun. Oh man, another Swifty fan girl. Kexxa strikes again.
Falco: I say nothing. Mia Hamm and Michael Jordan! I haven't thought about that in forever.
ershey: I hope you were happy with the Raceage in this chapter! Ah, yes, the random appearance of Skittery… see, that's what happened to me. I forgot about him until I was probably 6,000 words in, then I realized "ohh, so THAT'S what's been missing!" Shade told me to say he was in Jersey as an excuse. Hehe.
Llama: Why thank you -- I'm sorry it's depressing! Wait, no I'm not, that's the intent. -grin- I like Skittery a lot too. Yes, extremely unsportsmanlike, but oh well.
Gothy: THAT IS A GOOD QUESTION! Review! -cracks whip- I'm quite glad you're enjoying each other. Who doesn't like a little newsie smack down once in awhile?
Trolley: Thank you very much! Quite the compliment. I'm glad those character… thingies… were helpful. They were definitely fun to write. Sorry about Blink! (I actually am sorry this time.) But Jack just had to have a minion!
Thistle: Thanks for the fight comment! I was a bit skeptical on that piece, but it didn't come out too badly.
Mondster: Yes. Yes I am happy. -sticks tongue out-
Midnight Flare: Thank you… addictiveness is always good. I hope I didn't lose anyone with this chapter, though! It was a bit slow.