Spot's Milkshake
Chapter Nine: To the Racetrack with Racetrack!
Disclaimer: I don't own newsies, Disney does..of course I wish I owned it......I do own the plot, Troy, Sniff, Snicker, Brandie, and well, Smalls...That is Vinnie Monfredo's character though!
I woke up in the clubroom. A few boys were wandering in.
"Time ta sell. Up, up, up wit cha. Sellin' time!" Jack Kelly walked in.
"Shud up." I muttered.
"Betta get up fer woik." He taunted. "I'm headin' out. See ya." He announced, walking into the streets.
Wearily, I got up, and combed my hair with my fingers. Most of the Manhattan newsies had left with Jack, but others like Racetrack and Mush stayed behind.
Spot had let Troy go, but swore that he was going to go to court. I walked with the newsies to the distribution office. Troy was already there, along with the oblivious Johnny. Sniff and I were the last to arrive.
"50 papes." Randy yelled.
"It's too early." I griped.
"You know it." Sniff said uneasy. I knew he was trying to ignore Troy as much as I was.
"Yo Brandie! Meet me by Tabernaks." Smalls called to me through the window. I nodded in understanding. I took the papers to Randy, and awaited another order.
The morning slipped by slowly. It seemed to take eternity before Randy announced that the last newsie had bought his paper. I didn't even bother cleaning up. Instead, I rushed out and ran to find Smalls.
"Wha's up? I said meet me by Tabernaks." She looked at me, shouting out the headline.
"I ain't gonna stand dere. Dey could see me." I playfully slapped her forehead.
"Righ. Well heah. Take dese, and sell em'. Keep da profits." She laughed as she handed me half of the stack of newspapers. "Den meet me dere. Shouldn't take ya long ta sell those." She winked, as she walked off hawking the headlines. I looked down at the headline. 'Fire in Warehouse.' I didn't think I had to improve any truth now, but I could anyway. Wait. What was I thinking? I wasn't a newsie, I shouldn't be thinking like this. Oh well, I was, and I liked it.
"Fire kills all factory workers!" I shouted. No one came. I saw Racetrack selling at least 3 at a time. They were bombarding him. I walked over to him.
"Wha's your trick?" I asked, handing a little girl a pape in exchange for a penny.
"No trick, da public loves me." He smiled. This was the Racetrack I knew. I smiled back, glad to have my old friend back. Once the cloud of buyers left, he turned to me hesitantly.
"Sometink up your pants?" I asked. It looked like there was something in his pants the way his face looked. I almost laughed out loud.
"Nuttin's up me pants." He forced a smile. "No, I uh, I wanted ta tell ya sometink. I, um, well I, I hoid ya las' nigh' talkin' ta Spot." He looked away, ashamed. I stood there in shock. I didn't even want to tell Spot, yet I did, and now, now he knew. At first I didn't know what to say.
"Dat's a touchy subject, don't bring it up again. Kay?" That's I could say. I don't know why, but I felt betrayed. I knew it wasn't his fault, but why didn't he walk away? He just had to keep listening didn't he?
"Look, I didn't have to tell you. But I felt that it would be better if I got it off my chest." He looked at me.
"Ya don't hafta feel sorry fer me are anyting!" I stomped off. I had just got him back, and now I was losing him again. Nothing ever stayed consistent.
"Milkshake! I don't feel sorry fer ya. You're not da only one wit a rocky past. Gimme those." He took the papes out of my arms, and went off to sell them. I didn't care. Instead, I walked to the alley by Tabernak cigars. Mush was selling there and greeted me.
"Hey. Lemme finish up heah."
"Shuddup." I said. He looked taken aback, but asked no questions. Within the next half hour, Snicker, Smalls, and Racetrack showed up.
"Let's make dis quick. Da races start in a couple o' hours." Racetrack stated.
"I don't wanna hang around heah dat long." I retorted. "Wha's da plan?" Smalls asked, looking at me. "You, Mush and Race gotta distract da two o' dem. I was tinking, Mush an' Race could talk ta da mister bout cigars, an' Smalls, you could talk ta da misses bout sewing or someting." Smalls scrunched up her nose at the idea.
"I'd rather talk bout da cigar ting." She complained.
"Alright." I agreed. I thought for a few minutes. "Ok. Race and Smalls can talk bout cigars. Mush, you ask Mrs. Tabernak about wha' goils like. Pretend ya is axing some pretty goil out." I winked at him.
"Whateva." He didn't seem thrilled about his new job.
So on we went, into the horrid cigar shop. Once again Race looked fascinated with the joint. I regretted that I wasn't the one that would give him his Havana cigar.
Mush got Mrs. Tabernak's attention, she looked rather pleased to help him. He gave us the ok sign as she took him in the back room is talk with him. I felt sorry for him. Who knew how long her lectures could be. Now it was time for Smalls and Race to get him distracted.
"May I help ya two." Mr. Tabernak asked.
"We'se was jus' lookin' round. Me cousin heah is sick." Racetrack started, nodding to Smalls, who faked a cough. "We'se is only gonna be heah fer a few minutes." I doubted that he wanted this 'illness' to be the distraction, but it was.
"Sick? I think my wife has an antidote fer a bad cough. C'mon back heah." He lead them to the back room, where Mush was. This was our chance.
"Right up da stairs." I whispered to Snicker. We opened the door, and scurried up the stairs. "Not much stuff ta worry bout, but I needed the change o' clothes." I grinned, looking down at the clothes I had worn to the party on Friday.
"No problem. Never been heah before, let alone in one of da bedrooms." He winked at me. I showed him around the pathetic place. I showed him my mothers music box, and where I kept my small wardrobe. We were gathering up my clothes and few possessions that I owned when it happened.
"Let me just get something for you sweetie." I heard Mrs. Tabernaks voice getting closer, her footsteps coming up the steps. "It's the cutest music box you've ever seen." She said to Mush. My heart froze. She was coming for my music box. I didn't know whether to slide it out from under the bed that me and Snicker were hiding under now.
"No, uh, I don't think she likes music boxes." I heard Mush call up desperately.
"No honey, it's really alright. It's not like it was anything special." She called back down to him. That was the last straw. There was no way I was sliding it out to her. Snicker thought otherwise.
"Do it. Mush'll give it back ta ya." He urged me. He did have a point. Reluctantly, I slid it out just as she walked in the door.
"That's odd. I wonder why it's on the floor." She was talking to herself. Luckily, she didn't notice that my closet was empty, or that the bed had been stripped of its sheets.
Once I was sure that she was gone, I crawled out from under the bed, Snicker followed. I peered over the banister. Mr. Tabernak was back at the counter talking with Racetrack. Mrs. Tabernak was showing Mush how the music box worked.
"Did they forget about us?" I whispered irritably to Snicker.
"They might've, but Smalls is still on task." He whispered back. I looked to where Smalls was standing, tugging on Race's shirt, trying to tell him that we were ready.
"May I see that one cigar dat ya 'ad in da back room?" Racetrack asked suddenly. Mr. Tabernak had a questioning expression on his face. I knew Race was lying, but it was working. "Can I jus' show ya wha' I mean?" He asked.
"Why not?" Mr. Tabernak took him back to the storage room. Now all we had to worry about was Mrs. Tabernak.
"She looks slow, whadda ya say we jus' run fer it." Snicker proposed, a wide grin spread across his face.
"Why not?" I quoted Mr. Tabernak.
"On the count of three. One..two....three!" Snicker said. We bolted down the stairs and out the door. I heard Mrs. Tabernak yelling something at us, though I couldn't make out what she said. I laughed. I looked behind me and saw Smalls and Mush running out too. I stopped halfway in the street.
"Race!" I shouted. Nothing. "Racetrack!" Still nothing. Smalls and Mush caught up with us, and stopped too.
"You don't think they kept him do you?" Smalls asked in a worried tone.
The minutes passed slowly. Then, out of nowhere, Racetrack Higgins burst out of the doors, running at breakneck speed. He ran right past us, to where noone knew.
"Let's jus' take my stuff back." I said.
Noone talked about the close call we just had. There was only question on everyone's minds; would the Tabernaks call the bulls? I doubted they would.
"Mission accomplished!" Snicker announced as we all returned to the lodging house. Mush handed me my music box, and helped me take my things up to the bed that had been given to me.
"Tanks fer da 'elp." I gave him a hug and watched as he went down the stairs.
Just as I was about to leave myself, I noticed Racetrack sitting on one of the top bunks. I wondered why he wasn't at his precious races. I was going to ask him, but I didn't know if he was mad at me, or what Mr. Tabernak had said to him, or accused him of.
"Da races start soon." I told him. I felt foolish telling him that. I'm sure he was counting the minutes until he could leave.
"Wanna come wit me?" He turned around smiling. I could feel my face lighten. His face beamed with happiness as I nodded. "Betta hurry, our ride will be heah soon." He grinned mischievously.
"We ain't walkin'?" I asked.
"Walk dere? If ya wanna miss it we could. Now hurry, who knows how we'll get dere. I pick a ride up in Manhattan, but dis is Brooklyn, I'll do me best."
Once we were out in the streets, he began to look for a carriage that would take us to the races.
"Sir, wheah would dis heah horse be takin' ya taday?" Racetrack asked a man standing next to a carriage.
"It would be takin' me wheah I wanna go." He retorted. He didn't seem interested in talking to us.
"How's bout I give ya sometink, in return fer da use of your carriage an' horse." Race offered.
"Something like wha'?" The man seemed interesting now.
"All me winning's at da races taday. Hows dat sound?" He grinned.
"Dat sounds alrigh'." The man agreed. He must've known that Racetrack was good at this.
"Tank ya sir." Race hopped into the seat and grabbed the reins.
"Ya know how ta drive dese tings?" I asked him nervously.
"Sure. I mean, one time I did." He smiled sheepishly. "If we die, I'm gonna kill you." I stated. He laughed again, slapping the reins against the horse's back. The horse burst into a run, almost smashing into a fruit stand. I started to wonder if he knew where he was going from here. He did. It seemed to take hours before we arrived. His driving was sloppy I must admit, but it got us there with no bruises, breaks, or scratches.
"Ok, hope it ain't too crowded or anytink." He took me by the hand and lead me through the mass of people. I was beginning to doubt a lot of things I did anymore. I thought we were never going to find the track itself. Race kept stopping to talk to people and kept making bets. Where did he get all of this money? Unless he saved it up and then went on a gambling spree, but I doubted he could restrain himself from betting so much. Maybe he was just that good that he won so much that he could just go back and gamble some more.
"When are dese races gonna start?" I asked impatiently.
"Soon, betta go get a seat fer ya."
"Me? And you righ'?" I asked.
"Nah. I neva sit down. Can't eva see dat way." He told me, maneuvering his way to an empty seat.
"Well if ya can't see why should I sit down?"
"I dunno, thought ya would be comfortable." He smiled again.
His attention then turned to the race that was starting. The horses ran out of the gate. It looked to me that they were all going to run into each other and kill their riders.
"Hurry up number 7!" Race screamed. "Knock 'im ova! Faster, faster!" Number seven must have been Race's horse that he bet with. As of now, it was in 3rd place. Close to the second and first place horses as they rounded the 3 turn, coming down the straightaway.
"Does dat mean dat he ain't gonna win?" I shouted to Racetrack.
"No. He will. He has ta. I've got loads of money on 'im!" It didn't really answer my question, but I cheered for the number seven horse as it caught up with the two leaders as they came down the homestretch. I wondered what would happen to Race if this horse didn't win? I doubted that he had bet all of his money, but what if he had?
It was a battle between the first 3 horses. They were nose to nose to nose. The suspense was horrible. Racetrack was ready to jump up and down, like he had known all along that number 7 had won. The judges took a look at the photo finish and declared horse number seven, Cigar, the winner. Before I knew it, Race was dragging me along so he could collect his winnings. I was happy for him. He was certainly richer than he was before. Then I remembered the man who had given us the carriage. All of Race's money would go to him. This changed my mood instantly. I tried not to show it in front of him.
"Let's get outta heah." He said, pulling me by the arm once again.
Once we were back in the carriage, it was getting dark out. I decided this was the best time to ask him.
"Whatcha gonna do wit it?"
"Dis? Keep it safe an' sound." He patted his pocket.
"An' dat guy?" I hinted, trying to spark his memory.
"Dat guy can take a hike. Dis is me money and nobody gets it. He loses. I'll take ya back ta ol' Spotty boy an' den I'll be headin' home meself." He focused on the road again, leaving me to think about what he just said. Spotty boy? I swore that I detected some jealousy, but I decided to ignore it.
~A/N~ Another chapter done and up! Hope you all enjoyed it! Please review it helps! EVERYONE REVIEW VINNIE MONFREDO'S STORY! ITS REALLY AWESOME!
Pyro- Thanks for coming back yet again! I'm glad you liked the story. I need to make those flashbacks sadder so you cry ;) haha! Hope you like this chapter! Next one will be up soon! I think it gets interesting!
Tiggerbaby- Hey gurlie! Thanks for reviewing! You get a cookie since you cried for it LoL! Don't make that a habit young lady :) Hope you like this one!
Vinnie Monfredo- Back for another round I see! I'm glad you cried last time! I will not rest until someone reviews your story! THEY MUST THEY MUST! Hurry with your story though..dumb brain blocks (hehe) it will pass...I know it! Hope you enjoyed this!
Chapter Nine: To the Racetrack with Racetrack!
Disclaimer: I don't own newsies, Disney does..of course I wish I owned it......I do own the plot, Troy, Sniff, Snicker, Brandie, and well, Smalls...That is Vinnie Monfredo's character though!
I woke up in the clubroom. A few boys were wandering in.
"Time ta sell. Up, up, up wit cha. Sellin' time!" Jack Kelly walked in.
"Shud up." I muttered.
"Betta get up fer woik." He taunted. "I'm headin' out. See ya." He announced, walking into the streets.
Wearily, I got up, and combed my hair with my fingers. Most of the Manhattan newsies had left with Jack, but others like Racetrack and Mush stayed behind.
Spot had let Troy go, but swore that he was going to go to court. I walked with the newsies to the distribution office. Troy was already there, along with the oblivious Johnny. Sniff and I were the last to arrive.
"50 papes." Randy yelled.
"It's too early." I griped.
"You know it." Sniff said uneasy. I knew he was trying to ignore Troy as much as I was.
"Yo Brandie! Meet me by Tabernaks." Smalls called to me through the window. I nodded in understanding. I took the papers to Randy, and awaited another order.
The morning slipped by slowly. It seemed to take eternity before Randy announced that the last newsie had bought his paper. I didn't even bother cleaning up. Instead, I rushed out and ran to find Smalls.
"Wha's up? I said meet me by Tabernaks." She looked at me, shouting out the headline.
"I ain't gonna stand dere. Dey could see me." I playfully slapped her forehead.
"Righ. Well heah. Take dese, and sell em'. Keep da profits." She laughed as she handed me half of the stack of newspapers. "Den meet me dere. Shouldn't take ya long ta sell those." She winked, as she walked off hawking the headlines. I looked down at the headline. 'Fire in Warehouse.' I didn't think I had to improve any truth now, but I could anyway. Wait. What was I thinking? I wasn't a newsie, I shouldn't be thinking like this. Oh well, I was, and I liked it.
"Fire kills all factory workers!" I shouted. No one came. I saw Racetrack selling at least 3 at a time. They were bombarding him. I walked over to him.
"Wha's your trick?" I asked, handing a little girl a pape in exchange for a penny.
"No trick, da public loves me." He smiled. This was the Racetrack I knew. I smiled back, glad to have my old friend back. Once the cloud of buyers left, he turned to me hesitantly.
"Sometink up your pants?" I asked. It looked like there was something in his pants the way his face looked. I almost laughed out loud.
"Nuttin's up me pants." He forced a smile. "No, I uh, I wanted ta tell ya sometink. I, um, well I, I hoid ya las' nigh' talkin' ta Spot." He looked away, ashamed. I stood there in shock. I didn't even want to tell Spot, yet I did, and now, now he knew. At first I didn't know what to say.
"Dat's a touchy subject, don't bring it up again. Kay?" That's I could say. I don't know why, but I felt betrayed. I knew it wasn't his fault, but why didn't he walk away? He just had to keep listening didn't he?
"Look, I didn't have to tell you. But I felt that it would be better if I got it off my chest." He looked at me.
"Ya don't hafta feel sorry fer me are anyting!" I stomped off. I had just got him back, and now I was losing him again. Nothing ever stayed consistent.
"Milkshake! I don't feel sorry fer ya. You're not da only one wit a rocky past. Gimme those." He took the papes out of my arms, and went off to sell them. I didn't care. Instead, I walked to the alley by Tabernak cigars. Mush was selling there and greeted me.
"Hey. Lemme finish up heah."
"Shuddup." I said. He looked taken aback, but asked no questions. Within the next half hour, Snicker, Smalls, and Racetrack showed up.
"Let's make dis quick. Da races start in a couple o' hours." Racetrack stated.
"I don't wanna hang around heah dat long." I retorted. "Wha's da plan?" Smalls asked, looking at me. "You, Mush and Race gotta distract da two o' dem. I was tinking, Mush an' Race could talk ta da mister bout cigars, an' Smalls, you could talk ta da misses bout sewing or someting." Smalls scrunched up her nose at the idea.
"I'd rather talk bout da cigar ting." She complained.
"Alright." I agreed. I thought for a few minutes. "Ok. Race and Smalls can talk bout cigars. Mush, you ask Mrs. Tabernak about wha' goils like. Pretend ya is axing some pretty goil out." I winked at him.
"Whateva." He didn't seem thrilled about his new job.
So on we went, into the horrid cigar shop. Once again Race looked fascinated with the joint. I regretted that I wasn't the one that would give him his Havana cigar.
Mush got Mrs. Tabernak's attention, she looked rather pleased to help him. He gave us the ok sign as she took him in the back room is talk with him. I felt sorry for him. Who knew how long her lectures could be. Now it was time for Smalls and Race to get him distracted.
"May I help ya two." Mr. Tabernak asked.
"We'se was jus' lookin' round. Me cousin heah is sick." Racetrack started, nodding to Smalls, who faked a cough. "We'se is only gonna be heah fer a few minutes." I doubted that he wanted this 'illness' to be the distraction, but it was.
"Sick? I think my wife has an antidote fer a bad cough. C'mon back heah." He lead them to the back room, where Mush was. This was our chance.
"Right up da stairs." I whispered to Snicker. We opened the door, and scurried up the stairs. "Not much stuff ta worry bout, but I needed the change o' clothes." I grinned, looking down at the clothes I had worn to the party on Friday.
"No problem. Never been heah before, let alone in one of da bedrooms." He winked at me. I showed him around the pathetic place. I showed him my mothers music box, and where I kept my small wardrobe. We were gathering up my clothes and few possessions that I owned when it happened.
"Let me just get something for you sweetie." I heard Mrs. Tabernaks voice getting closer, her footsteps coming up the steps. "It's the cutest music box you've ever seen." She said to Mush. My heart froze. She was coming for my music box. I didn't know whether to slide it out from under the bed that me and Snicker were hiding under now.
"No, uh, I don't think she likes music boxes." I heard Mush call up desperately.
"No honey, it's really alright. It's not like it was anything special." She called back down to him. That was the last straw. There was no way I was sliding it out to her. Snicker thought otherwise.
"Do it. Mush'll give it back ta ya." He urged me. He did have a point. Reluctantly, I slid it out just as she walked in the door.
"That's odd. I wonder why it's on the floor." She was talking to herself. Luckily, she didn't notice that my closet was empty, or that the bed had been stripped of its sheets.
Once I was sure that she was gone, I crawled out from under the bed, Snicker followed. I peered over the banister. Mr. Tabernak was back at the counter talking with Racetrack. Mrs. Tabernak was showing Mush how the music box worked.
"Did they forget about us?" I whispered irritably to Snicker.
"They might've, but Smalls is still on task." He whispered back. I looked to where Smalls was standing, tugging on Race's shirt, trying to tell him that we were ready.
"May I see that one cigar dat ya 'ad in da back room?" Racetrack asked suddenly. Mr. Tabernak had a questioning expression on his face. I knew Race was lying, but it was working. "Can I jus' show ya wha' I mean?" He asked.
"Why not?" Mr. Tabernak took him back to the storage room. Now all we had to worry about was Mrs. Tabernak.
"She looks slow, whadda ya say we jus' run fer it." Snicker proposed, a wide grin spread across his face.
"Why not?" I quoted Mr. Tabernak.
"On the count of three. One..two....three!" Snicker said. We bolted down the stairs and out the door. I heard Mrs. Tabernak yelling something at us, though I couldn't make out what she said. I laughed. I looked behind me and saw Smalls and Mush running out too. I stopped halfway in the street.
"Race!" I shouted. Nothing. "Racetrack!" Still nothing. Smalls and Mush caught up with us, and stopped too.
"You don't think they kept him do you?" Smalls asked in a worried tone.
The minutes passed slowly. Then, out of nowhere, Racetrack Higgins burst out of the doors, running at breakneck speed. He ran right past us, to where noone knew.
"Let's jus' take my stuff back." I said.
Noone talked about the close call we just had. There was only question on everyone's minds; would the Tabernaks call the bulls? I doubted they would.
"Mission accomplished!" Snicker announced as we all returned to the lodging house. Mush handed me my music box, and helped me take my things up to the bed that had been given to me.
"Tanks fer da 'elp." I gave him a hug and watched as he went down the stairs.
Just as I was about to leave myself, I noticed Racetrack sitting on one of the top bunks. I wondered why he wasn't at his precious races. I was going to ask him, but I didn't know if he was mad at me, or what Mr. Tabernak had said to him, or accused him of.
"Da races start soon." I told him. I felt foolish telling him that. I'm sure he was counting the minutes until he could leave.
"Wanna come wit me?" He turned around smiling. I could feel my face lighten. His face beamed with happiness as I nodded. "Betta hurry, our ride will be heah soon." He grinned mischievously.
"We ain't walkin'?" I asked.
"Walk dere? If ya wanna miss it we could. Now hurry, who knows how we'll get dere. I pick a ride up in Manhattan, but dis is Brooklyn, I'll do me best."
Once we were out in the streets, he began to look for a carriage that would take us to the races.
"Sir, wheah would dis heah horse be takin' ya taday?" Racetrack asked a man standing next to a carriage.
"It would be takin' me wheah I wanna go." He retorted. He didn't seem interested in talking to us.
"How's bout I give ya sometink, in return fer da use of your carriage an' horse." Race offered.
"Something like wha'?" The man seemed interesting now.
"All me winning's at da races taday. Hows dat sound?" He grinned.
"Dat sounds alrigh'." The man agreed. He must've known that Racetrack was good at this.
"Tank ya sir." Race hopped into the seat and grabbed the reins.
"Ya know how ta drive dese tings?" I asked him nervously.
"Sure. I mean, one time I did." He smiled sheepishly. "If we die, I'm gonna kill you." I stated. He laughed again, slapping the reins against the horse's back. The horse burst into a run, almost smashing into a fruit stand. I started to wonder if he knew where he was going from here. He did. It seemed to take hours before we arrived. His driving was sloppy I must admit, but it got us there with no bruises, breaks, or scratches.
"Ok, hope it ain't too crowded or anytink." He took me by the hand and lead me through the mass of people. I was beginning to doubt a lot of things I did anymore. I thought we were never going to find the track itself. Race kept stopping to talk to people and kept making bets. Where did he get all of this money? Unless he saved it up and then went on a gambling spree, but I doubted he could restrain himself from betting so much. Maybe he was just that good that he won so much that he could just go back and gamble some more.
"When are dese races gonna start?" I asked impatiently.
"Soon, betta go get a seat fer ya."
"Me? And you righ'?" I asked.
"Nah. I neva sit down. Can't eva see dat way." He told me, maneuvering his way to an empty seat.
"Well if ya can't see why should I sit down?"
"I dunno, thought ya would be comfortable." He smiled again.
His attention then turned to the race that was starting. The horses ran out of the gate. It looked to me that they were all going to run into each other and kill their riders.
"Hurry up number 7!" Race screamed. "Knock 'im ova! Faster, faster!" Number seven must have been Race's horse that he bet with. As of now, it was in 3rd place. Close to the second and first place horses as they rounded the 3 turn, coming down the straightaway.
"Does dat mean dat he ain't gonna win?" I shouted to Racetrack.
"No. He will. He has ta. I've got loads of money on 'im!" It didn't really answer my question, but I cheered for the number seven horse as it caught up with the two leaders as they came down the homestretch. I wondered what would happen to Race if this horse didn't win? I doubted that he had bet all of his money, but what if he had?
It was a battle between the first 3 horses. They were nose to nose to nose. The suspense was horrible. Racetrack was ready to jump up and down, like he had known all along that number 7 had won. The judges took a look at the photo finish and declared horse number seven, Cigar, the winner. Before I knew it, Race was dragging me along so he could collect his winnings. I was happy for him. He was certainly richer than he was before. Then I remembered the man who had given us the carriage. All of Race's money would go to him. This changed my mood instantly. I tried not to show it in front of him.
"Let's get outta heah." He said, pulling me by the arm once again.
Once we were back in the carriage, it was getting dark out. I decided this was the best time to ask him.
"Whatcha gonna do wit it?"
"Dis? Keep it safe an' sound." He patted his pocket.
"An' dat guy?" I hinted, trying to spark his memory.
"Dat guy can take a hike. Dis is me money and nobody gets it. He loses. I'll take ya back ta ol' Spotty boy an' den I'll be headin' home meself." He focused on the road again, leaving me to think about what he just said. Spotty boy? I swore that I detected some jealousy, but I decided to ignore it.
~A/N~ Another chapter done and up! Hope you all enjoyed it! Please review it helps! EVERYONE REVIEW VINNIE MONFREDO'S STORY! ITS REALLY AWESOME!
Pyro- Thanks for coming back yet again! I'm glad you liked the story. I need to make those flashbacks sadder so you cry ;) haha! Hope you like this chapter! Next one will be up soon! I think it gets interesting!
Tiggerbaby- Hey gurlie! Thanks for reviewing! You get a cookie since you cried for it LoL! Don't make that a habit young lady :) Hope you like this one!
Vinnie Monfredo- Back for another round I see! I'm glad you cried last time! I will not rest until someone reviews your story! THEY MUST THEY MUST! Hurry with your story though..dumb brain blocks (hehe) it will pass...I know it! Hope you enjoyed this!