DISCLAIMER: I don't own Spitball, she is owned by My Dog Ate My Penname. Nor do I own the Newsies or any characters from that movie. I do own Pistol, Bourbon, Nell, Flick, Chowder etc.
"Got a smoke?"
"Sure, here."
"Thanks." Pistol eyed Blink with a sideways glance. It had been five years since they had joined up with Flick and his Manhattan boys. Now, at ages twelve and eleven, they were still close friends, yet not as close as before. Both children were reaching the age where they noticed the opposite sexes as being frustrating yet enthralling.
Blink spent most of his time with the other boys his age, while Pistol toughed out the streets with a few new additions to the group, a couple of girls as smart-mouthed and tough as she was. The boys didn't like that there were more girls in their group, but they tolerated it because Flick tolerated it. In truth, they hardly even viewed the girls as being girls because they all dressed like the boys and acted like them as well.
It was pure necessity that drove the little girls to do this. They either came from rough homes, or didn't have one and being that age in this city was anything but fun. Pistol flipped a lock of her copper hair over her shoulder and shifted her shoulders irritably. The new shirt she had 'acquired' itched something awful and she was in a bad mood. A loud thud and an 'oomph' made her shoot her eyes down towards her feet.
A tall girl with tanned skin lay sprawled at Pistol's feet. Pistol cracked a grin and stuck out a grubby hand as Blink snorted with laughter. Shooting Blink a nasty look, the girl turned grateful brown eyes up at Pistol and let her haul her into a sitting position. When the girl stood up, she was much taller than Pistol although they were both around the same age. Pistol believed that she was two years older than the girl but nobody counted much.
"Hey Spitball, how's it shakin'?"
"Like this!" Spitball did a few dance steps shaking her behind which caused Blink to turn bright red and Pistol to throw back her head and burst into laughter. Spitball was like that, she always cracked jokes and either made you laugh or said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Nobody ever seemed to mind though, that was just the way she was.
Fixing her long curly black hair by tying it back with a piece of twine, Spitball gave them a bright grin before bounding away, causing Pistol to wince. The girl was constantly tripping over her feet and falling headlong into both trouble and the sidewalk.
Blink shook his head as he watched Spitball run to catch up with Skittery who was exiting the lodging house. Apparently the two knew each other from a few years ago when Spitball had first came to America and lived in Manhattan. Pistol giggled when she saw Spitball slap Skittery upside the back of his head and charge away laughing hysterically as the normally sullen boy turned red and took off down the street after her.
"She really shouldn't do that to him," Pistol gave Blink an incredulous look at the displeasure in his voice. Taking a long haul off of her smoke she sneered at a woman who gave her a disgusted look and grinned, cigarette smoke trailing out of her nose and mouth as the woman sniffed haughtily and swept past.
"It's all in good fun, Blink she doesn't mean any harm." Blink shook his head, his shaggy mop of blonde hair falling over his eye patch. Pistol resolved to make him let her cut it later. She wasn't good at it, but she tried to help the boys keep some semblance of cleanliness. It helped them sell more papers.
"Good fun, right." Pistol heaved a large sigh and hearing the bells ring at the Distribution Center signaling a new work day, she mischievously smirked at Blink before goosing him. Blink let out a startled gasp and flew a foot into the air, as Pistol cackled manically and raced off, Kid Blink in hot pursuit.
She reached the D.C. out of breath and panting, falling into a heap against the wall next to the three other girls that completed their motley crew. Bourbon, a tall girl of about twelve or thirteen gave Pistol a lopsided grin before glowering at Racetrack who was trying to cut off one of her braids with a pocket knife.
"Race!"
"What?!" A resounding slap was heard and most of the boys started to point and laugh as Racetrack slunk to where Jack, Mush, and a few other little boys were standing. Bourbon turned back to Pistol and smirked. She had golden brown hair and these odd whiskey colored eyes. Her skin was dusky like Mush's but more olive complexioned then his. Pistol rolled her own blue eyes at Race's back and inclined her chin at Bourbon.
"Nice one, he'll have a mark on his face for at least an hour."
"Hopefully two," Spitball said with a giggle. The last girl was also tall, and twelve as well. Her long blonde hair was curly and held back with a ribbon. She was the only one out of the girls who wore dresses and skirts. She also had started to develop early and most of the boys liked to leer over her.
"Ya know Nell, they'd treat you better if you didn't wear such tight blouses," Bourbon said spitting with distaste. Nell rolled her eyes and ignored Bourbon. Even though Pistol had joined ranks first, Bourbon had become the unofficial second leader in the Manhattan lodging house, over the girls.
"Sad thing is she don't mind," Pistol said with disgust before lighting another cigarette. Most of the kids smoked, they had started at a young age and didn't even register the looks adults gave them. To be a street kid made one old before their time. A shrill whistle pierced the air and the kids moved forward to purchase their papers.
Pistol teamed up with Bourbon while Spitball ran off to find Skittery. They had apparently grown up together and while Spitball loved to antagonize the boy, he didn't seem to mind. Bumlets and Skittery had taken to letting Spitball tag along with them while they sold. Nell walked off with an older boy who was heavily taken with her, even at her young age.
Bourbon and Pistol walked by Blink and Mush who always sold together and Blink shot her a look. She paused and raised her eyebrows enquiringly.
"Not selling with us today?" Pistol snorted.
"Since when do you want me to? You never want me around anymore." Mush had a look on his face that was humorous. He could tell when their arguments were going to escalate. Just then Flick walked by and he tugged on Pistol's copper braid that hung out from underneath her cabby hat.
"You botherin' the boy's cutie?" Pistol felt her face turning red. She had such a crush on the Manhattan leader, and it was rather obvious at times. She knew that he found it to be flattering but he didn't return her feelings. He was, after all, seventeen to her eleven, and that was a large age gap. Blink's mouth thinned into a line. Whenever he saw Pistol fawning over Flick it made him jealous beyond reason. That fact alone bothered him besides the fact that she was head over heels for another boy.
"C'mon Mush, let's get going." Mush darted a glance back at Blink's face and squared shoulders before bending over to pick up his stack of newspapers. Today was going to be a long day.
"If you could pick any of the boys to kiss you who would it be?" Bourbon snorted and flicked the butt of her cigarette away from her. Tossing back her hair she tapped her chin with a dirty finger thoughtfully.
"Here in Manhattan or anywhere else?" Pistol lightly punched her friend on the shoulder and made a face. Bourbon held up her hands and laughed.
"Okay, okay. I guess I'd have to pick…and don't worry I won't say Flick, I guess it would be Repeat." Pistol clapped her hands together and giggled. Repeat was one of the older boys at fifteen. He had black hair and brown eyes that always shone with mischief. Pistol definitely wasn't surprised that Bourbon had chosen Repeat Shaw. Bourbon grinned and poked Pistol in the side.
"So who would you choose? Blink or Flick?" Pistol gave her a blank look.
"What d'you mean Blink?" Bourbon sighed impatiently.
"The kid thinks you're cute can't ya tell? He always looks like he's going to blow his top whenever you giggle and flutter your eyelashes at Flick. Who by the way is NEVER going to go out with an eleven year old." Pistol was always taken aback by Bourbon's directness when it came to things but she was stunned to hear about Blink.
"What're you dense? You honestly couldn't tell?" Pistol shook her head and Bourbon rolled her eyes.
"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. Sometimes you girls are so dumb." And with that, she rose, dragging Pistol up from the bench they had been resting on. It was time to go pick up the afternoon edition of the paper.
"Hold still!"
"Ahhh watch where you're aiming those things!!"
"If you hold still it won't be a problem!"
"Help! Mush, Jack, Race, Chowder somebody HELP ME!" Pistol blew out a huge sigh of frustration and punching Blink in the stomach, shot Flick a look of such determination that he laughed and helped her hold him down while she once again picked up the pair of scissors she had been holding before Blink had tried to escape.
"I don't see why you can't just hold still Kid." Blink didn't say anything, just gritted his teeth and winced every time she cut of a chunk of his hair. It was hair-cut day today a fact which some of the boys had remembered and had disappeared soon after selling the afternoon papers. The ones who had forgotten were greeted at the door by Pistol clacking the scissors together with a towel draped over her shoulder, a maniacal grin on her narrow face.
"Be afraid, be very afraid," Bourbon had crowed from her seat on the couch. Kloppman had been sitting behind the battered desk that took up most of the lobby, trying to hide the smile on his leathery face.
"There, I'm done. That wasn't so hard now was it?" Blink mumbled something incoherent and stood up from the rickety chair, dusting blonde hairs off of him. Scrubbing a hand through his now shorter and slightly uneven mop, he trotted outside to smoke. Shouts arose from inside and he grinned as he heard Racetrack's high pitched cries of terror.
"This hair does NOT get touched! D'you hear me you crazy dame? I slick it back with pomade, I don't NEED a haircut. HELP!" Crashes and shouts rang out and Blink doubled over with laughter before sauntering off down the sidewalk. He had time before Kloppman locked the doors, so he decided to take a walk.
A while later he looked around and was taken aback to realize that he was in his old neighborhood in the Bowery. Some men hanging about on a front stoop watched him closely as he made his way down the street, shoulders hunched.
"Hey aren't you Charlie Needham's kid?" The drunken voice rasped out in the night air and Blink slowly stopped and turned his head to look at who had spoken. To his shock, he saw that it was Timothy, his father's friend and Mush's dad. Fear lanced through his stomach. If Timothy was out of prison then so was his father. If his father found him now, he'd make him go back to live with him and steal for him. Blink liked his life now. It was tough, but he was part of a real family and he didn't want to throw that away.
"Naw I don't know who you're talking about," was all he said before he turned around and quickly walked back the way he had come. He heard the man shout something else out at him, but he didn't reply. When he made his way back to the lodging house, he came upon Racetrack, Jack, Mush, Skittery, and Bumlets sitting out on the front stoop, all with grumpy looks on their faces and all with shorter, uneven hair.
Blink couldn't help it, he started laughing and he couldn't stop. He knew he looked just as ridiculous as them but to see them all sitting in a row, miserable on the front steps brought our tears leaking from his eyes and stomach-wrenching whoops.
"I don't know what you're laughing at Blink, you look just as stupid," Race spat before biting the end off of his cigar savagely. Jack punched a fist into his other hand and looked up resolutely.
"If I become leader, she ain't ever cutting our hair again. I will make that a promise." Mush laughed, his eyes dancing. It didn't take much to get him out of a bad mood.
"I'd like to see the day you tell Pistol what to do and she listens, Cowboy." Jack shot Blink a sly glance and winked at Mush.
"Who says I'll have to? I'll just make Blink tell her." Blink heard the jeering catcalls of his friends and felt his ears turning red. Flipping them off he sneered at them and slapped a few upside the head. He got a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach suddenly and looked up to see Pistol standing in the doorway watching them. She looked…well he couldn't describe how she looked. She had a weird expression on her face but when she saw Blink staring at her it quickly vanished.
"Flick says it's time to come to bed. I know you all want to stay up and enjoy your lovely haircuts, but what the boss says goes." And with that, she turned on her heel and vanished. All the boys got upstairs and trooped inside and up to the bunkroom. Blink fell asleep thinking about his father, and Pistol. He hoped that the knot of worry that was curled up in his stomach would go away soon.
Shout Outs!
Nada Zimri – Thanks I'm glad you like my characters. I worry that sometimes they aren't very solid or something. Hehehe…Mush's six-pack. I actually haven't watched Newsies in awhile but when I do my favoritest part is when Jack, Boots, and David go to Brooklyn and you first meet Spot. I love it. Mmm…Spot. It's easy when you watch a movie over and over to pick out little things that aren't so obvious the first time around. I like to do that. And no, I'm not going to get bored with this story. Although I'm anxious to start my Spot one. Woo this was long.
Pokey7 – I thought it would be cute to see the newsies as little kids. Thanks, I'm glad it didn't suck. D'you still want to be in my stories? I can't remember if I asked you if I could use your character for this one and my Spot story. I don't like pushover girls either. I'm not one, and I model my girl characters after me to an extent. I still have a crush on Spot.
JamieBell – UPDATE YOUR STORY NOW! I command thee! Thanks I'm not getting bored with this I think I just needed a little break. I have to get the plot squared away in my head too, that'll help. With my other story I'd be at work and stuff would just show up in my mind and I'd have to write it down as soon as I got home. I hope that happens with this one!
My dog ate my penname – I hope I got your character right! Pistol is definitely feisty. Thanks I'm glad you don't think it sucked :D Yeah I tried to make 'em cute as little kids although Hell they're cute as BIG kids too.
Yo, Spot quit changing the channel you KNOW you like P&P.
Spot: SHUT UP MISERY! *hides the remote* you HIT me Spitball?! *cries*
Oh Geez. Now look what we did….