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 7 : Drama
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Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Newsies or related to the Newsies.
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I sighed, leaning against a broomstick that I was assigned to. Working at Irving Hall was not as glamorous as I had thought. No, nothing like that. Instead, I found it rather…annoying to say the least. I was to be the "official" piano player's understudy or some other crap like that. What did that meant? It meant that unless the old git dies, I'm never going to perform on stage with applause and all that.
I sighed again, sweeping the floors with an obvious lack of interest. I've only been working for three hours and this job was getting to be asinine… fast. It was almost worse than Delancey rape.
I shuddered at the thought.
Almost.
Then, my eyes caught something. I looked through the open curtains with interest then brightened up considerably.
The piano!
I quickly went over, dragging the broomstick behind me. Looking around and seeing that nobody was there and considering that there were no audience right now, I took a seat behind it on the piano bench. I lifted the lid that covered the keys and stared at it adoringly. Setting the broomstick down and praying that I wouldn't get in trouble for this, I placed my right hand over the keys and played a small scale.
I paused, straining my ears as if expecting to hear some cry of outrage.
Nothing.
My grin widened as I place my left hand on the keys as well and played a longer scale before I stopped and listened again.
Still nothing.
With an almost insane giggle, I folded my hands together, stretched, and loosened them before placing them on the piano keys again. Then, I wracked my brains for a song to play. The one that came to mind first was a song composed by Joe Hisaishi whose works are most well known in the anime movies by Hiyao Miyazaki. This particular song that now flowed my fingertips almost naturally was the song from Spirited Away, Inochi no Namae, or The Name of Life.
Halfway in the middle of my playing however, I was suddenly aware that somebody was watching me. Startled, I stopped playing immediately and stood up, grabbing my assigned broomstick in the process.
Standing by the doorway was none other than Medda herself. She smiled in my direction before taking a step into the room, "That was beautiful! I didn't know you could play the piano that well." She leaned over so that we were looking at each other at an eye-to-eye level. Shut up, I'm short.
"That's quite a talent for someone at such a young age," she continued, looking impressed. I smiled. But of course!
"Tell you what," she straightened up and sat down on the piano bench to which I followed suit, "I can't fire Mr. Hoitans but I'll let you play accompaniment for my opening act tomorrow night. Can you read music?"
"But of course!" I exclaimed, overjoyed with the prospect of not having to sweep floors.
"Excellent!" she exclaimed with a smile, popping up into a standing position once again, "Now you wait here Boy, I'll just run to Mr. Hoitans and get you the music. Then we can rehearse so that you would be prepared for tomorrow night." With those words, she disappeared with a ruffle of pink skirts. I was grinning from ear to ear.
The opening act! I'm going to be the first to perform, along with Medda of course, but that's beside the point. I'm going to be in the opening act!
Soon, Medda came back and thrust a bunch of papers into my arms. I glanced at the music and couldn't believe my luck. The music wasn't all that hard to learn. After making me sight-read it and telling me I have promise of great things in my future, she shooed me off and told me to go get some dinner. Not after she handed me more coins, to which I was glad to take from her. Besides, I've earned this.
With my awesome floor sweeping techniques of course.
In any case, it was with a cheerful bounce in my step that I exited Irving Hall, accompanied by none other than Jack Kelly himself who, in my annoyance, took up the vacant spot of my big brother.
"Jack," I sighed, "is this truly necessary?"
"Yes." And that was all he said as he led me towards Tibby's. I rolled my eyes.
"Will you keep up?" he asked. I muttered under my breath darkly before taking two extra steps for his one stride.
"'Ey! Boy! Jack! Wait up!" called a familiar voice from behind us. I thanked the heavens when Jack stopped and turned around to look over his shoulder. As for me, I paused to catch my breath.
"Race! You'se comin'? We'se goin' to Tibby's fer dinnah!" Jack greeted his pal. Racetrack looked sullen, "Naw, lost me money at da tracks…"
A sudden idea hit me.
"Why don't you come anyways? I'll treat you," I offered with a grin. He looked at me skeptically and I rolled my eyes and sighed again, "Just think of it as a thank you for letting me borrow your shirt. How's that?"
He grinned, "I'se kin live wid dat."
"C'mon den. Let's go," Jack urged the two us then the three of us were on our way again to Tibby's.
It was approximately an hour later that the three of us sat in a corner booth at Tibby's, nursing our large stomachs. Racetrack groaned, "I'se ain't nevah been dis full…" Then, his face twisted and he let out a loud belch that left Jack and I breathless with laughter. A few of the girls sitting at another booth were staring at Race and giving him strange looks. This only escalated the hilarity of the scene that both Jack and I were witnessing. When Racetrack realized he had an audience, a female audience nonetheless, his face brightened up substantially when their female attention was turned onto him and avoided all eye contact with any of us.
"Aw c'mon Race, it's not that bad," I giggled almost mindlessly, trying to suppress my already bubbling laughter.
"You'se done?" he asked gloomily.
"Yea, we'se done," Jack announced. The two of us quickly paid for dinner before Racetrack quickly led us outside.
"Are you heading back to the boarding house?" I asked as we began to walk down the streets of Manhattan.
"Yea," answered Racetrack, "you'se comin' wid us?"
"Urm…" I paused in my decision. It sounded very tempting. No doubt I would be bunking with him again…right? I bit my lip. Then again, I have to worry about Medda back at Irving Hall. Was she expecting me to be back?
"Sorry," I replied apologetically, "I need to get back to Irving Hall."
"Race, you'se betta' walk 'er back," Jack told him with a frown on his face.
"Why?"
"Las' time, she almost got raped by de Delancey brudders."
"Delancey brudders?" repeated Racetrack, turning his head to face him with wide eyes. I sighed.
"Yes, yes… I hope that Jack would stop mentioning it though."
"I'se jis' thinkin' of yer safety Boy!" he defended himself. I laughed, "Sure Jack." He looked insulted.
"Jis' walk her back Race. I'se gotta meet wid Sarah." At the mentioning of her name, his eyes went glassy and took an almost dreamlike state. Racetrack muttered in disgust, "Again wid Sarah." He turned to me, "He neva stops yer know. It's getting' annoyin'."
I laughed, "I can tell."
"Well, we'se betta' git a movin' on den," he told me and we started our way back to Irving Hall.
The walk back was spent rather pleasantly, despite my extreme nervousness. The conversation was mostly one sided with Racetrack doing all the talking while I listened to him, as if being lured into a trap by his rich tenor voice.
I was suffering from bliss and it was all too sweet.
He entertained me with his wonderfully humorous anecdotes, interspersed with my laughter. Halfway there however, the two of us fell into a comfortable silence as we walked. It was refreshing… Compared to what? I do not know, but it was still refreshing.
"We're 'ere…" he finally announced, stopping in front of Irving Hall. I smiled and let out a small sigh, "Yep…"
"Look," he said, suddenly nervous. My interested peaked slightly, "Yea?"
"You'se…stay outta trouble kay' kid?"
I blinked in surprise.
"Huh?"
"You'se stay outta trouble. Jack usually ain't wrong 'bout what them Delanceys gonna do so you'se be careful," he paused and frowned, "watch out fer yerself." I nodded, a little stunned and confused by his statement.
But as he turned to leave, I regained my mind, "Racetrack! Wait!"
He stopped in mid step and looked over his shoulder.
I frowned…
"Who you calling kid?"
He smiled before shrugging and walking off.
I sighed with a goofy smile lighting my face. Ah, Racetrack, Racetrack, Racetrack…
You cute Italian shorty you…
With the goofy smile still plastered on my face, I returned to Irving Hall and into my given room. I didn't even bother to change. Instead, I flopped onto the bed and blew the lights out.
As I pulled the blankets over my shivering body, I sighed wistfully. Maybe I should have taken up Racetrack's offer in going back to the boarding house for tonight… It would be warm for one thing… The second? Well, rather obvious don't you think?
The next morning, I woke up with a crick in my back to which I blame the poor mattress with well, poor support but as they say, beggars can't be choosers. After hastily making myself somewhat presentable, I stumbled down the stairs. At the bottom, I was greeted by Bounce who grinned toothily at me. We exchanged good mornings before he was on his way while I went in search of Medda and breakfast, depending on what I came across first of course.
I did came across breakfast first, a mere apple, looking rather shrunken, was offered to me by I politely declined. It was winter after all and fruits were hard to come by. Besides, after yesterday's dinner, I told myself that that apple should go to someone who would probably need it. After loosing my appetite, I headed for the room where the piano had been yesterday and there was where I found Medda, waiting impatiently for me to start rehearsing with her for tonight's show.
And so we did. We rehearsed from ten o'clock in the morning to three in the afternoon until she was glad with the results and shooed me off, telling me to get ready myself and be back at six. I was only all too happy to leave to nurse my tired fingers, aching head and growling stomach. I quickly slipped out of Irving Hall and made a beeline for Tibby's. I did get lost, though a few nice strangers advice later, I found myself standing at the front of this modest establishment and invited myself inside.
As the door jingled shut behind me, I glanced around the crowded restaurant in search of a familiar face or an empty table.
"Boy! Boy!" somebody called. I looked around, a confused expression plastered on my face.
"Boy! Over here!" somebody waved at me in the corner and I struggled my way across the crowded room to reach there.
It was Blink.
"Hey Boy!" he greeted, scooting over to make room for me. Mush gave me a cold look and I sighed mentally. Best if I avoid this…
"Urm… no thanks. I'm just looking for someone," I told him with a hesitant smile. He brightened up, "Oh? Who?"
"Erm…" I couldn't think of anybody. Well, I did. I thought of Racetrack but there wasn't any point in bringing that up now is there?
"Yer lyin' Boy. C'mon. Sit!" he urged me, grabbing my arm and pulling me down to sit by him. Mush made a rude noise in his soup and I winced but Blink continued on, oblivious of the tension between us.
"So 'ow's Medda? Huh? Huh? Huh?" he asked, winking and elbowing me in the side with good humour. Despite the tension between Mush and I, I had to laugh and move away from him, "Stop that Blink or I'll sit with Mush."
"I'd rather you'se sit deah," Mush muttered darkly.
Blink caught that.
He frowned, "What's wrong Mush?" The boy didn't answer him as he drank his soup.
"Is it Elizabeth?" I asked, looking at him. He looked up and we stared at each other. Even though he didn't answer, I knew it was true. With a sigh, I ran a hand through my hair and waved for one of the waiters. I ordered a coffee and a sandwich before turning to the situation at hand.
"What happened?" I asked in a serious tone. He shot me a glare but I stared back, willing myself not to flinch or wince as he glowered at me.
Finally, he sighed and gave in, "I'se met wid her heah…" Blink and I leaned forward unintentionally as we waited for him to continue.
"She's ask fer Mush an' when I'se told 'er I'se was Mush, she slapped me!" he exclaimed. I stared at him and raised an eyebrow, "That's it?" He glared at me.
"No, dat ain't all," he snapped before continuing, "she's started askin' fer you Boy and when I told her you'se a goil, she screamed at me, slapped me den stormed out."
Mush let out a sigh as he slump against the table. Blink let out a low whistle, "You'se havin' 'orrible luck wid dis Elizabeth." Mush snorted without lifting his head.
"Alright, alright. Look. How about I talk to her for you?" I offered. His head lifted up and glared at me, "No." I shrugged, moving away slightly as a plate of sandwiches were placed in front of me. I proceeded to devour it, careless with my table manners. The conversation was abandoned for the time being as I ate. Mush drank his soup and Blink hummed tunelessly as he sat with one arm propping up his head, staring out the window with faded curtains and fingerprint-smudged glass.
My coffee arrived shortly after. As I savoured the last bite, I reached for the coffee to drown it down.
"Aaaah…" I sighed blissfully, "That's good."
Blink grinned, "'course."
Mush snorted and rolled his eyes. With a sigh, I turned my attention onto the muscularly built newsie. Mmm…he's cute too. Hey, maybe I should explore my options.
"Look Mush. I don't blame you for hating me for ruining your chances with Elizabeth but you can't change the past. So what if Elizabeth doesn't want you? Show her what she's missing out on."
He looked at me skeptically. I grinned and shrugged, "Of course, I suppose my advice isn't even worth a cent because I've never actually been in a relationship before so I wouldn't know. Though, I guess the real advice would to be yourself. No corny pick-up lines or anything like that. Just get her a few flowers and flatter her. Who knows? Maybe she'll give you one more chance."
I sipped at my coffee as I waited for my words to enter his head. When it did, he merely looked down at the table, avoiding all eye contact. Feeling that I had somehow done something wrong again, I finished off the coffee and stood up to leave. After paying for my lunch with what little coins that I have left from yesterday night, I bid the two newsies a haste farewell before I hustled back to Irving Hall.
My finding of the Hall had somewhat improved and I felt proud of my accomplishment even though I did have to stop a few strangers to ask for the way. Mostly women, no men. I didn't want to get beat up thank you very much which was fine because if you flash a little manners in the woman's direction, they would greet you with a smile and tell you what you need to know. To which, no doubt, I was extremely grateful for.
In any case, I arrived back at Irving Hall with an hour to spare but Medda insisted on getting me a bath drawn and wanting me to clean up for the performance tonight.
"We cannot have you looking all dirty and grubby like that when you play tonight," she told me, shoving a pile of clothes into my hands and into a small bathroom before closing the door behind her. I stood there, dazed before I decided that the faster I get this done, the faster I would get it over with. I quickly stripped off my clothes, took a quick bath in the frigid water (it is winter after all) and proceeded to dress hastily.
I was still provided with men's clothing and I was grateful for her consideration but perhaps Medda was worried about the hype that could be come if people found out that a girl was playing piano in one of the sleazy places…
In any case, after making myself "presentable", I made my way towards the backstage area where I was greeted by Medda herself.
"Did you eat yet?" she asked as she bustled around the many rooms, getting ready for her performance. I nodded numbly as I stood there, watching her and her other showgirls get themselves ready. Make-up was caked on, layer after layer, and brightly coloured costumes, some with dyed ostrich plumage, littered around the room. It was enough to make a blind man see again.
"Here's your music," she told me, shoving the papers into my hands before bustling off. She came a few moments later, shoving more music into my arms, "Those are for Hoitans. Give those to him and sit on the piano bench." I nodded numbly before I went off in search of my "superior".
I found the old man sitting in the back of Irving Hall making conversation with one of the bartenders.
"…whippersnapper, cheatin' an old man loik me outta a job," he was saying, slurring his words together. It was obvious he was drunk.
"Damn idiot prolly don't even know 'ow ter play de piano," said he, slumping against the table. The bartender noticed me and gave me a sorry look, as if begging me to get him out of there. He was kind of cute in a way…
Wait…what? I quickly shook my head to clear it before I smiled at him.
"Mr. Hoitans?" I asked in a strained polite manner. The old man looked up and glowered at me," What? What do you'se want boy?"
"Medda asked me to give you your music for tonight," I told him, handing him the music. He mumbled and murmured something under his breath before accepting the bundle and slumped back into his seat. The bartender sighed dramatically before he continued to clean the cups and was forced to listen to the crazy drunk and old pianist.
I bit a grin. Honestly, I felt sorry for him. I know how long winded the Hoitans could be.
"Boy! There yer are!" Bounce greeted me, waving in my direction. I made my way towards him through the room that was slowly being filled up by loud, raucous guests.
"Yeah?"
"You'se needed at the piano! We'se gonna lift it up soon!" he hissed to me, giving me a push in the direction of the piano. I took off my hat and swept it in a mock bow in his direction, "Yes, your majesty." He scowled with good humour, "Jis' git!"
I hurried to the stage area with my music clutched against my chest. I entered the room in which the piano was and sat down hastily, spreading my music out and getting myself into a position so that I'm ready to play.
The small room itself had been fixed with a strangely complex pulley system. If someone was to crank the handle on the far side of the room, the floor on which the piano stands would rise up through an opening in the stage. Ingenious.
In any case, through the opening on the stage, which someone had considerately removed the wooden cover, I saw Medda stroll out in one of her many costumes. This one was pink, purple and decorated with enormous dyed pink ostrich plumes. I thought she looked ridiculous but apparently, judging from the roar of her audience, they didn't think so.
Bounce waved to me from the far side and gave me the thumbs up sign. I grinned and waved back before getting into position. Medda was already speaking, welcoming her guests, and soon…I will have to play.
"…and gentleman?" I heard the cue, "this one is for you." Bounce was already cranking the pulley and the room started to rise. I placed my fingers on the keys…took a deep breath…
And started playing.
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End of Chapter 7
Sapphy: But Spot Conlon in third person is so…. CONLON. Haha, methinks you need to cut back on the sugar.
erisnymph: Aheheh… Oscar Delancey was a hottie in the movie… with his hat on. Without, he looks like dork! It's the accessories my friend! I'm sorry, but Morris is just creepy. With all the beautiful newsies about, you really have to wonder don't you? Are the ages they proclaim to be really real? Maybe they're just boys… or worse, crossdressing girls! It can happen. XD
Brownie/Melody: Maybe I could be evil and put Dave with Denton! Bwahahahha… Oh the evilness! Can you feel it? Being a nun is not very fun. No wild parties or anything like that. XD It's almost boring.