Disclaimer: None of theses characters belong to me (with the exception of Artist). They all belong to either Disney or other creators who have kindly allowed me to use their characters
"Extra, Extra! Italians to take over America!" Crutchy hawked the headline as he walked through the dirty, New York streets. He glanced at the headline again. 'Italians overstuffing houses!' He smiled to himself. 'Improving the truth' as Jack called it, was always something fun to do, even if it was work.
A gentleman obviously late for work, bought Crutchy's last paper and scurried off. Crutchy rolled up his sleeves and wiped his sweaty brow. He had been selling all morning. It was midday now, and by now, very hot. He checked the pocket watch Race had given him for Christmas last year. It was 11:30.
'Good,' he thought. 'It'll give me some time to rest before the afternoon edition.' He started to head towards Central Park, humming to himself. He entered the park and was relieved to find it was somewhat cooler than on the streets. The trees blocked the sun from hitting him directly and he was glad to escape from some of the extreme heat. He continued to walk, thinking vaguely of the pocket watch Racetrack had given him for Christmas last year. Newsies did not often exchange gifts with each other for anything unless it was for a special friend. Racetrack and Crutchy had never been particularly close to Racetrack until the previous summer, during which they had learned they were former best friends.
'I can't believe we didn't realize sooner,' he thought. 'It's so strange. I'm glad it happened though.' He headed towards his favorite bench. The only trouble was there was already someone sitting there.
It was a girl. She was petite and looked short, though it was difficult to tell when she was sitting down. She had shiny, curly, auburn hair that reached just below her shoulders, topped with a black newsboy hat. She was writing on what appeared to be a notepad. As he got closer he realized that she wasn't writing. She was drawing on a, a... a stack of napkins. Crutchy walked closer until he was standing right next to the girl sitting on the bench. She was so absorbed in her sketching, she didn't notice a thing. He watched as her hand flew up and down the paper, making long strokes and quick jabs. The drawing itself was incredible. It was an exact replica of Central Park on paper.
Crutchy stared in amazement. "Dat's a real nice picture you'se is drawin'."
The girl started. "Holy jabs!" She dropped her stack of napkins and they went everywhere. He bent down to help her pick them up. She looked at Crutchy. Her hazel eyes were bright and warm and her face was dotted with freckles. "Thanks," she said, after all the napkins were in her hand once more. "Ya scared me dere."
"Sorry, I didn't mean ta," he apologized quickly. "I'se was jus' sayin' your drawin' was nice."
She blushed and smiled. "I didn' know anyone was watchin'," she said, embarrassingly. Her voice was light and airy with a slight New York accent.
Crutchy smiled. "Is dere any, uh, particular reason you'se is drawin' on napkins?"
She laughed. "You t'ink I can afford a real sketchpad? Ya, right." She snorted. "Anyway, paper's expensive. The only paper I ever get is newspaper."
"Are you a newsy?" Crutchy asked. "I never seen ya round here before."
She nodded. "I ain't from around here. I just came from Queens. I been lookin' for somebody. By da way, do ya know where da Lodgin' House is aroun' here?"
"A coise I do," said Crutchy. "I stay dere. I could take you dere if ya like."
"Dat'd be great," she said smiling again. She stood up. She was very short, about 5'2.
"How old are you?" he asked, eyeing her height.
"Fifteen," she said and when Crutchy looked skeptical, she added, "Really. I'se is just short for my age. It's good sellin' papes though." She laughed. "I'm Artist," she said sticking out her hand.
Crutchy shook it. "Crutchy," he said to introduce himself, also smiling. "Here, follow me, I'll show ya da Lodgin' House.
They started walking out of the park together, still talking.
"So who ya lookin' for anyway?" Crutchy asked.
"My cousin," she answered. "Travis O'Brian. You ever hoid of him?"
Crutchy shook his head, thinking. "I don't know everybody's real name though. We could ask Kloppman if he has a list a' da names."
"Alright, thanks."
They came to the Lodging House door and entered. Kloppman looked up from the papers on his desk as they walked in.
"Heya Kloppman," said Crutchy. "Dis here's Artist. She's lookin fer her cousin. You got a list a' everybody's real name 'er something she can check?"
Kloppman nodded and opened one of the drawers stacked by the wall. He picked out a sheet after searching through a couple of files. "Here ya go," he said gruffly, handing it to Crutchy.
Crutchy looked down the list of boys, Artist reading next to him.
Boys Residents of the Lodging House:
Acklin, Andrew/ Mush
Barrett, James/ Pie Eater
Bayus, Dominic/ Bumlets
Crason, Ryan/ Blink
Divis, Sean/ Specs
Franklin, Joshua/ Itey
Higgins, Anthony/ Racetrack
Morgan, Michael/ Snotty
Morris, Christopher/ Crutchy
Morton, Earnest/ Boots
Whalen, Alexander/ Snipeshooter
True names unknown: Skittery
Crutchy skimmed through the list quickly. "Doesn' look like he's here."
Artist shrugged. "Guess not." She took the the paperand looked through it again. "Hold on," she said, frowning. "Higgins is here? Race Higgins?"
"Ya," said Crutchy. "Ya know him?"
Artist nodded. "I met up with him a long time ago. I used to be his goil."
"Oh," said Crutchy. He felt his stomach drop slightly. He wasn't sure why.
"I guess he has a new goil by now, does he?"
Crutchy turned pink. He was almost embarrassed to tell her. He didn't want her to get angry or anything, especially with him. "Well, uh, yeah, He, he... her name's Pinch."
She shrugged again and handed the list back to Kloppman. Then she turned to Crutchy, "Thanks a lot for everythin'," she said. Then after a moment, "Do you know where I might be able to find Race?"
Crutchy looked at the clock. "He's probably just leavin' Tibby's now. You can catch him now if you hurry. Do you know where it is?"
She nodded. "I remember from when we past it."
"Okay, well den I guess I'll see ya around den."
She smiled. "Ya, maybe. Bye Crutchy."
"Bye."
Crutchy watched her leave, then set out to sell the morning edition, his mind still on her smile.
A/N: Sorry it took so long, but I'm a slow writer, and was very busy. Please forgive me. I like long chappies. Okay, I know what your thinking. No it's not a love story, well it might be a little bit, but overall it's gonna be a mystery. In fact, it's gonna be a lot like my old one, with the flashbacks and the 'I didn't know you did that!' and the whole shebang. Oh ya another thing. It's gonna be LONG. Very LoNG. I already have my plot set up. That reminds me, my casting call. Pinch will be my girl, and Shooter will be my boy. A big thank you to everyone who put in CC. I liked all of 'em, but I thought these 2 could play the parts best.
"Extra, Extra! Italians to take over America!" Crutchy hawked the headline as he walked through the dirty, New York streets. He glanced at the headline again. 'Italians overstuffing houses!' He smiled to himself. 'Improving the truth' as Jack called it, was always something fun to do, even if it was work.
A gentleman obviously late for work, bought Crutchy's last paper and scurried off. Crutchy rolled up his sleeves and wiped his sweaty brow. He had been selling all morning. It was midday now, and by now, very hot. He checked the pocket watch Race had given him for Christmas last year. It was 11:30.
'Good,' he thought. 'It'll give me some time to rest before the afternoon edition.' He started to head towards Central Park, humming to himself. He entered the park and was relieved to find it was somewhat cooler than on the streets. The trees blocked the sun from hitting him directly and he was glad to escape from some of the extreme heat. He continued to walk, thinking vaguely of the pocket watch Racetrack had given him for Christmas last year. Newsies did not often exchange gifts with each other for anything unless it was for a special friend. Racetrack and Crutchy had never been particularly close to Racetrack until the previous summer, during which they had learned they were former best friends.
'I can't believe we didn't realize sooner,' he thought. 'It's so strange. I'm glad it happened though.' He headed towards his favorite bench. The only trouble was there was already someone sitting there.
It was a girl. She was petite and looked short, though it was difficult to tell when she was sitting down. She had shiny, curly, auburn hair that reached just below her shoulders, topped with a black newsboy hat. She was writing on what appeared to be a notepad. As he got closer he realized that she wasn't writing. She was drawing on a, a... a stack of napkins. Crutchy walked closer until he was standing right next to the girl sitting on the bench. She was so absorbed in her sketching, she didn't notice a thing. He watched as her hand flew up and down the paper, making long strokes and quick jabs. The drawing itself was incredible. It was an exact replica of Central Park on paper.
Crutchy stared in amazement. "Dat's a real nice picture you'se is drawin'."
The girl started. "Holy jabs!" She dropped her stack of napkins and they went everywhere. He bent down to help her pick them up. She looked at Crutchy. Her hazel eyes were bright and warm and her face was dotted with freckles. "Thanks," she said, after all the napkins were in her hand once more. "Ya scared me dere."
"Sorry, I didn't mean ta," he apologized quickly. "I'se was jus' sayin' your drawin' was nice."
She blushed and smiled. "I didn' know anyone was watchin'," she said, embarrassingly. Her voice was light and airy with a slight New York accent.
Crutchy smiled. "Is dere any, uh, particular reason you'se is drawin' on napkins?"
She laughed. "You t'ink I can afford a real sketchpad? Ya, right." She snorted. "Anyway, paper's expensive. The only paper I ever get is newspaper."
"Are you a newsy?" Crutchy asked. "I never seen ya round here before."
She nodded. "I ain't from around here. I just came from Queens. I been lookin' for somebody. By da way, do ya know where da Lodgin' House is aroun' here?"
"A coise I do," said Crutchy. "I stay dere. I could take you dere if ya like."
"Dat'd be great," she said smiling again. She stood up. She was very short, about 5'2.
"How old are you?" he asked, eyeing her height.
"Fifteen," she said and when Crutchy looked skeptical, she added, "Really. I'se is just short for my age. It's good sellin' papes though." She laughed. "I'm Artist," she said sticking out her hand.
Crutchy shook it. "Crutchy," he said to introduce himself, also smiling. "Here, follow me, I'll show ya da Lodgin' House.
They started walking out of the park together, still talking.
"So who ya lookin' for anyway?" Crutchy asked.
"My cousin," she answered. "Travis O'Brian. You ever hoid of him?"
Crutchy shook his head, thinking. "I don't know everybody's real name though. We could ask Kloppman if he has a list a' da names."
"Alright, thanks."
They came to the Lodging House door and entered. Kloppman looked up from the papers on his desk as they walked in.
"Heya Kloppman," said Crutchy. "Dis here's Artist. She's lookin fer her cousin. You got a list a' everybody's real name 'er something she can check?"
Kloppman nodded and opened one of the drawers stacked by the wall. He picked out a sheet after searching through a couple of files. "Here ya go," he said gruffly, handing it to Crutchy.
Crutchy looked down the list of boys, Artist reading next to him.
Boys Residents of the Lodging House:
Acklin, Andrew/ Mush
Barrett, James/ Pie Eater
Bayus, Dominic/ Bumlets
Crason, Ryan/ Blink
Divis, Sean/ Specs
Franklin, Joshua/ Itey
Higgins, Anthony/ Racetrack
Morgan, Michael/ Snotty
Morris, Christopher/ Crutchy
Morton, Earnest/ Boots
Whalen, Alexander/ Snipeshooter
True names unknown: Skittery
Crutchy skimmed through the list quickly. "Doesn' look like he's here."
Artist shrugged. "Guess not." She took the the paperand looked through it again. "Hold on," she said, frowning. "Higgins is here? Race Higgins?"
"Ya," said Crutchy. "Ya know him?"
Artist nodded. "I met up with him a long time ago. I used to be his goil."
"Oh," said Crutchy. He felt his stomach drop slightly. He wasn't sure why.
"I guess he has a new goil by now, does he?"
Crutchy turned pink. He was almost embarrassed to tell her. He didn't want her to get angry or anything, especially with him. "Well, uh, yeah, He, he... her name's Pinch."
She shrugged again and handed the list back to Kloppman. Then she turned to Crutchy, "Thanks a lot for everythin'," she said. Then after a moment, "Do you know where I might be able to find Race?"
Crutchy looked at the clock. "He's probably just leavin' Tibby's now. You can catch him now if you hurry. Do you know where it is?"
She nodded. "I remember from when we past it."
"Okay, well den I guess I'll see ya around den."
She smiled. "Ya, maybe. Bye Crutchy."
"Bye."
Crutchy watched her leave, then set out to sell the morning edition, his mind still on her smile.
A/N: Sorry it took so long, but I'm a slow writer, and was very busy. Please forgive me. I like long chappies. Okay, I know what your thinking. No it's not a love story, well it might be a little bit, but overall it's gonna be a mystery. In fact, it's gonna be a lot like my old one, with the flashbacks and the 'I didn't know you did that!' and the whole shebang. Oh ya another thing. It's gonna be LONG. Very LoNG. I already have my plot set up. That reminds me, my casting call. Pinch will be my girl, and Shooter will be my boy. A big thank you to everyone who put in CC. I liked all of 'em, but I thought these 2 could play the parts best.