Un sot trouve toujours un plus sot qui l'admire – "A fool can always find a greater fool to admire him."
(L'Art poetique – [1674] Nicholas Boileau – Despreaux [1636-1711] )
Chapter 1 : Descend
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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Newsies or related to the Newsies.
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The skies were surprisingly and rapidly getting darker. Much faster than it normally would in the middle of December. By the time I was let out of school to start the Christmas break, I was hit by just how dark it was. The sky at four o'clock was practically night with the exceptions of the small tinge of light blue, making it seem more navy than black. The teacher had let us out late. Instead of the usual three fifteen dismissal, he had let us out at three thirty. By then, most of the school was void of student life.
I had rushed to my locker to grab my trench coat to protect from the cold that would no doubt plummet me on my walk home. It was certainly strange. After I had gotten my books and had hastily stuffed them into my backpack and all the usual routine of going home, I was struck by a sudden odd feeling. It wasn't that "time of the month" again but it was certainly…strange. There was a tingling in my fingers and a slight light-headedness that showed in my steps. I had practically danced and staggered my way out of school, something very hard to do with a bag laden with textbooks.
It was beautiful outside though. It had recently snowed and the sidewalks were paved with the white mushy stuff. Freshly fallen in seems. Some of it was churned up into dirty looking mush while other areas were practically untouched. I breathed in the cold air before exhaling, watching, mesmerized as my breaths came in clouds of condensation. I smiled, tucking my hands into my pockets. Mother Nature was certainly an odd one.
There were two paths that led home. One was a long way where you would have to snake through the long roads and intersections and the other was a small, secluded trail I had found last summer. It had served as a shortcut for the year following. Feeling lazy and slightly adventurous, I had decided on taking the short cut when I neared it. Perhaps I wasn't feeling too rational at the moment. I recalled the inner turmoil and battle that my head went through prior to the decision. It was certainly dangerous and since it was dark, it would certainly be more dangerous but if I were to stay out longer, it would become darker, making it equally dangerous…
Needless to say, after that continuous battle, I no longer listened to my head for that particular period of time. Besides, I could very readily argue that my brain was very preoccupied with the cold winds that whipped by me every now and then.
So there I was…walking down the snow-covered pathway towards my house. I guess I wasn't paying much attention to where I was going or it was too dark to see where I was going because I ended up in a place I had never seen before. Granted, it was still dark out and the snow was now falling in sheets. Deciding the next best thing, I decided to ask someone in the neighbourhood for some kind of assistance. Maybe the use of their phone or to ask for directions and by that time, I would be glad to be anywhere but outside. It was absolutely freezing!
Hesitantly, I knocked on the door of the surprisingly old fashioned but large house. It sounded like someone was having a party in there from the number of voices. All sounds of merry making however, were halted when I had knocked on the door. There was the thumping of footsteps before I heard a grumble. Then, the door swung open. I stood outside hesitantly as an old man looked at me with raised eyebrows.
"Well boy? It ain't 'ealthy ta freeze in this kinda' weatha," he told me in an accent that I couldn't place. I managed a smile before shaking off the excess snow and stepping into the semi warm house. It wasn't much warmer but at least the snow wasn't falling on my head anymore. I surveyed my surroundings through my fogged up glasses, feeling a rather odd feeling of déjà vu hitting me. Surely, I've never been in this place before but somehow, it was very familiar. I turned my attention back to the old man when he cleared his throat.
"Can you please tell me where I am? I think I'm lost," I asked politely. He observed me with an eye as if weighing his decision to tell me or not.
"Yer in Manhattan me boy," he finally told me. I frowned. Manhattan? There wasn't a street called Manhattan that I was aware of…
"Are yah stayin' wid us tanoight then?" he asked, moving to the back of a dusty counter. I stared at him and voiced out my rather intelligent reply, "W-wha?" Again, the old man regarded with that eye of his, "You'se ain't from around heah are ya boy?" I was feeling somewhat peeved about his 'boy' comment. Surely, he can tell I'm female!
"No sir. I'm not," I replied politely. At that moment, I heard whispers from around me and I took my glasses, wiping them using the edge of my t-shirt before putting them on again. I was suddenly stunned with the architecture of the place.
It was old. Definitely old. Complete with ancient looking wood that was polished to a dull shine. There were stairs leading up to a second floor as well and the source of those whispers came form there. A group of perhaps six to ten boys were observing me from the stairs. Some pointed and whispered but what struck me was their appearances. So damn familiar…I swore I had seen them somewhere before.
"Well you'se in Man'attan now boy. Best yer keep yah toes around you'se," the old man told her in a half muttered voice. I nodded politely, "Yes sir. Can you tell me how to get to Turnload street?" The man gave me a strange look, "There ain't no Turnload streets heah!" I stared at him, "Huh?"
"I said there ain't no Turnload street heah boy! Yer must really be lost," he commented before asking, "Are yah stayin' wid us tanoight then?" I looked slightly annoyed, "What is this place anyways?"
"Yer dun't know? This be da Newsies Lodging House," the old man told me in a rather stern manner. I stared at him, hardly believing my ears before he repeated his question again with annoyance again, "Are yah stayin' wid us tanoight?" I glanced nervously at him then at the bunch of boys. I was suddenly hit by the reason of why everything looked so familiar.
"You're Kloppman!" I exclaimed with surprise. He looked at me with a raised bushy eyebrow, "Aye, I be he." I ran my hand through my hair nervously, "No, you don't get it. You're Kloppman! Holy shit… Wait…what was that actor's name? Aah…Marc Lawrence! Shit! You're Marc Lawrence!" The old man gave me a strange look.
"Are you'se okay boy? I t'ink the snow got to yah brain. I ain't no Marc Lawrence," he told me sternly. I looked around the building again. Exactly like the set… dear lords. They couldn't be filming… after all, the DVD & video of Newsies were already out… I glanced at the bunch of boys again. I squinted and managed to pick out the familiar faces… Racetrack, Kid Blink, Mush, the most common of them all. I felt faint. I staggered over to the side and leaned against it with a dazed expression on my face. It couldn't be…could it? … … I've been dreaming and fantasizing of this very moment and here I am, not able to do a bloody thing about it. I mentally kicked myself and managed to walk over to the counter with shaky legs, "Yeah…I guess I'll stay here for now."
Kloppman gave me a sceptical look, as if suspecting I was from some loony bin. He murmured something under his breath before he fixed his steely gaze on me again, "Are yah a newsie?" I rubbed my arm nervously, "Well…technically, no." He eyed my bulging backpack before speaking again, "Yer can't stay heah 'less you be a newsie." I considered my options. Be forever selling newspapers or chancing my way in the snow. I looked up at Kloppman again. He seemed to be challenging me. I smirked to myself.
"Sorry, to bother you. I'll see you later then Kloppman," I replied, putting up the hood of my trench coat and threw open the door. The blizzard that was there only a few minutes ago had disappeared. In its place was a calm and serene scene. The streets was covered with snow and made the usual menacing streets into a breathless painting of Mother Nature at work. I breathed in the cold air, feeling slightly crazy. The blizzard was gone and the day was still young. I dug into my pockets and fished out the headphones to my Discman hidden in my backpack and clipped on one of the earphones to my left ear. I pressed the 'On' button and the headphones immediately blared out Blink182's 'Reckless Abandon'. I turned back to the astonished Kloppman and the group of guys… cute guys mind you, who had gathered at the door.
"Thanks anyway!" I told them before turning around walking down the street, grinning to myself. The little voice in my head however nagged at me. 'This is the past! If you screw up the past, you might screw up the present! Turn off that damned Discman!' I brushed that small nagging voice away, telling myself that this is the movie verse. The movie has nothing to do with the future.
My sneakers crunched the snow beneath me. My pants were getting wet and the edge of my trench coat was dragging in the deep snow. My socks and sneakers were wet and I was feeling cold and miserable. I managed to keep my body temperature up however because of my consistent movement. The music blaring out of the headphones got my head bobbing and my body moving. As I wandered in the snow however, I was quite aware that I couldn't survive in this kind of weather alone. I needed shelter badly. I glanced over my shoulder. The Newsies Lodging House was now a spec in the distance. A large spec but a spec nonetheless. I sighed. Maybe I was stupid to refuse his offer. I laughed to myself quietly. Of course I was stupid to refuse his offer! Staying with a bunch of newsies that would wake up practically naked. Any girl would be in heaven! I snorted, 'Damned pride.'
As I walked through snow with no destination whatsoever, I turned off my Discman and pocketed the earphones. It was night and just in case there were some drunks about, I don't want them to hear me. Ah, the streets of New York. What fun. I observed where I was going carefully. As I walked, I passed a small red building and something caught my eye in the alleyway. I stopped, looking in with squinted eyes. They flew open when I realized what it was.
It was a body. A body of a guy who was perhaps younger than me. Taking a timid step forward, I observed him carefully. He looked to be dead but the tiny rising of his chest was evidence that he wasn't just yet. Thankful that he wasn't dead, (I am absolutely horrified with death) I closed the distance between us and knelt in front of him.
"Hey… Hey kid! Kid? Hey! You alright?" I asked, placing a hand on his shoulder to shake him. He managed a small moan and his eyelids fluttered briefly before all signs of movement disappeared on his face. Hastily, I dropped my backpack down on the floor, vaguely hoping that the equipment in them wasn't damaged. I practically whipped off my trench coat after taking out the headphones and stuffing them into my backpack. I also took off the warm grey vest that I wore and was left with a black shirt. I laid both articles of clothing over my knees and shouldered my backpack.
"Hey…Hey kid. I need you to get up," I told him almost nervously. He didn't move but he wasn't dead yet. My mind raced as I thought of other options. He was just lying there, propped up against the red brick wall of the building and there wasn't anybody about. With a sigh and a small grunt, I pushed him off the cold brick wall and pulled him into the vest and threw my trench coat around him, tucking his arms into the sleeves of the coat. I then buttoned and tied it up snugly around his waist so that he could retain his body warmth.
"Kid? Hey kid! C'mon now!" I told him urgently. His eyes fluttered open slightly and my heart soar, "Okay, I want you to hang on alright? Here, wrap your legs around my waist." I gathered him in my arms as best as I can and carried him like a baby. His arms went around my neck weakly and his legs went around my waist. I tucked his feet between my backpack and my back so that they were held in place. Then, I held him in place as best as I can before I headed back to the Newsies Lodging House. Pride was no longer important as my worries were placed on the small boy. Thankfully, he was small because with the backpack and his extra weight, it was difficult enough without having to wade through snow.
"Hang on kid," I murmured as I made my way back using the path I had carved for myself. After a few minutes, I could see the Newsies Lodging House getting bigger and my excitement grew.
"It's cold," the kid murmured as his arms tightened around my neck. His breath was icy cold. I shivered, "Hang on kid. You're almost there. Almost there." I could feel him smile, "Almost there…Light…" I felt a sudden chilling fear grab my heart and my legs seemed to have more energy as I fought through the snow.
"C'mon kid, you can't die on me like this," I told him hastily, "Hang on! We're almost there!" There were tears running down my face. 'Oh please don't die on me…' He didn't reply but we were already there. Freeing one of my hands hastily, I knocked on the wooden door in a slightly maniacal fashion.
"What is it now?" came the old man's voice from inside and the door flew open.
"Snipeshooter!" someone cried. I didn't see who for my glasses fogged up once more when I stepped into the building.
"He's got Snipeshooter! What 'appened to 'im?" someone asked as Kloppman came forward and took the small bundle away from my arms. I felt surprisingly lost and empty when he did but I was too exhausted to care.
"Found him by some alleyway, freezing his ass off," I managed to gasp out. I gave a groan and dropped my backpack on the ground. It landed with a heavy 'thud'. I wiped my glasses free of condensation again using my shirt and put them on. Kloppman had already bundled the boy, Snipeshooter, away along with my trench coat. I on the other hand, was faced with a wall of eager newsies' faces. About three of them I recognized. Racetrack, Crutchy and the ever so famous Kid Blink.
"He's a goil!" Blink said with surprise etched on his face. I blinked in confusion, "Urm…yeah. What did you think?" I looked down at myself. The snow that had stuck to me was now water, soaking and chilling me to the bone. However, because of that, my shirt stuck to me stubbornly showing the quite feminine figure. Namely, the chest.
"We'se thought you'se was a boi!" Racetrack exclaimed, "You'se 'ave short 'air." I shrugged, "So?"
"And we'se thought you'se didn't 'ave no…" Blink trailed off, gesturing to his chest before he smirked. I hope he wasn't checking me out. It's disturbing enough that I'm loosing my sanity. I flushed a deep red colour, "Yeah, I'm somewhat flat-chested. So?"
"Didn't know you'se kin speak English neither," Crutchy said with a knowing nod, politely looking away. I frowned, "Why not?"
"Thought you'se a Chinaman," came the reply of some newsie I didn't recognize. That made sense. I'm Asian after all and in this period of time, it was rare that Asians would know how to speak English.
"That's understandable," I replied, feeling uncomfortable under the intense look of curiosity on some of their faces. Not only was I uncomfortable under their curious gaze but I also felt as if I shouldn't be here. I don't belong. I'm not supposed to be here! I simply cannot exist under such circumstances unless I was going crazy.
"You'se stayin' fer dah noight then?" Racetrack asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen. I looked somewhat hesitant. On one hand, I'm soaking wet and bloody cold. On the other, they made me uncomfortable enough as it is. I'm not much with the opposite gender unless they're one of my friends. 'Then get to know them! Be their friends!' came the nagging voice in my head. Perhaps I thought it was high time that I listen to that nagging little voice. I forced a smile, "I suppose. I mean, I'm not going out again in that cold when that kid is wrapped up in my coat."
"Glad tah 'ave yah 'ere Boy," Racetrack said with a large grin on his face as he spat on his hand and held it out. There was a bunch of protests from the others at this gesture however, "Race! Yer mad? Dat ain't no way to treat goils!" I couldn't help but smirk as I spat on my own hand, clasping it tightly onto his and shook. Racetrack broke into a large grin, "Show yah to yer bunk Boy?"
"Why do you insist on calling me Boy?" I asked, following him up the stairs. The group of boys followed almost obediently. I could practically hear his grin in his reply, "Cuz you'se make us newsies t'ink you'se was one."
Perfectly rational reasoning if I ever heard it.
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End Chapter 1