Title: The Photographer and the Gambler
Author's Note: Challenge #5 for newsiechallenge yahoo group! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own newsies. I do own Amber.
Prologue
She was a photographer, he was an alcoholic and a gambler. She was sweet and kind, he was a tough smart alec. She was pretty, he was handsome. She lived for the moment, he lived for her. They were in love.
Racetrack Higgins sat silently on his couch. He didn't want to move. He couldn't move. Blindly, he lifted his hand and went to wipe his cheek which was tear stained. He'd been wiping tears off his face for hours. Finally, there were no more. Out of boredom and misery, he stood up and made himself a piece of toast. He walked aimlessy around the house, biting into his toast and thought out loud. Finally, he collapsed on his bed, sobbing wildly.
It was just four months go that his wife and child had died in childbirth. He had been looking forward to having a child, and raising it with his wife, Amber. Now, all that was over before it had started. He had loved her so much, and they had talked about this. What if it did happen. He told himself over and over that she would be alright, she was strong. In the end, he was wrong and now he was lost. He beat himself up mentally for leaving her alone at night to go get drunk with his friends, and to gamble on the horses and lose money, then drink more. If he could take it all back, he would, and he would make sure she was the happiest person alive. But that was in the past, and no one can change time.
He looked over on the mantal in their room. A picture of a phone in the middle of a deserted street stared back at him. He smiled slightly, thinking about the origin of the picture. They'd just been married, Amber and him. They went to Las Vegas for their honeymoon. He gambled half of his savings there, but won some of it back. Then, it was time to return home, the moment he had dreaded. He ended up finding a tavern and got himself drunk for the trip home. Amber had put up with him well, and had a few sips herself. It didn't take much to get her drunk. They had saved up enough money to pay for automobile fares until they could get a train to New York. Unfortuantely, there was a considerable distance between the stop where the automobile would drop them off, and where the train station was. This ment they would have to walk to the train station, some 10 miles from where the automobile dropped them off. Racetrack still remembered that day clearly.
Racetrack grabbed his bag, and helped her out of the carriage. Both were drunk and totally high on life. The driver of the automobile drove off in a hurry, having not enjoyed the ride thus far.
"T'ank ya sir!" Race yelled after him, his speech slurred. He walked sideways and was constantly running into Amber, who didn't seem to mind, probably because she was numb all over. It was an odd site, a newly wed couple, drunk, walking down an old deserted road. Racetrack had started to skip and was falling over his own feet. It would be a miracle if either of them made it to the train station.
"I wanna remember this day forever." Amber said randomly. Race nodded. The was that he did too. Remembering the bag, he took it off his shoulder, and poured the contents onto the road. Two dollar bills and a couple loose cents fell out, Amber's camera, a pair of rigged dice, and a couple of trinkets that Race had won in Las Vegas. "What are you doing?" Amber asked, cocking her head towards him.
"We'se is gonna remember dis day foreva. Now, get ya camera." He instructed her. She obeyed, sobering up a bit.
"Why? Oh, can I take your picture?" She asked him eagerly. He shook his head, holding up a phone. She stared at it, confused. "What?"
He walked to the middle of the road and placed it in front of a puddle, then backed away.
"Take a picture of dat." He told her. She stared at him, dumbfounded, but obeyed. He smiled. "See, now'se we'se will neva forget dis day." He smiled at her.
"Can I take a picture of you now?" She asked him, holding back laughter. He shook his head.
"Not now baby, some day though. Besides, I'se gots a joke ta tell ya." He smiled, she nodded towards him. "Why didn't the chipmunks let the cat play poker with them?" He asked. She just stood there. "Cause he was a cheetah!" He said, bursting into laughter.
She never got to take his picture. Never. That was another thing he wished he had done differently. Why had he wanted her to take a picture of a damn telephone? Why? It was because he was drunk, that's why. He wished it had been the dice that she had taken a picture of. Or him. Yes, him. She was a suberb photographer, and it would have been an honor to be in one of her pictures. Instead, he wasted her talent on a stupid telephone, that, if he recalled correctly, had been left in the middle of the road. Bitter tears leaked out of his eyes as he continued to mourn for her. They had planned to name the baby Emily Rose Higgins if it was a girl, if it was a boy, they planned on naming it Matthew Thomas Higgins. Emily Rose had been born dead. Racetrack never even got to hear the cries of his newborn daughter. Amber had died minutes later. She'd been crying and telling him how she wasn't going to make it. He kept insisting that she was going to make it through, she was strong. In the end, she was right, and now she was gone, forever.
Racetrack stood up and walked to the mantel, slowly setting the picture down. He never wanted to look at it again. It was too painful for him. He couldn't handle living in sorrow forever. It was just too much. He walked out of the room, leaving his unfinished piece of toast on his bed. Grabbing his coat from the closet, he walked slowly out of the house, heading to Tibby's, to drink his misery away.
Hope you enjoyed it.
Review :)