Disclaimer: I do not own Pokey, Pokey7 owns Pokey. I own the rest of the original characters, and alas I do not own Newsies or it's movie idea.
"Ten bucks says Heaven Sent wins this race."
"You don't HAVE ten bucks, Racetrack."
"I will when I win this race."
"But then you'd have to give it all to me."
"Not if I turn out to be an Indian giver and I run away."
"Jackass."
"Pansy."
"Pistol! Cut it out. Same goes for you Race." Both Pistol and Race crossed their eyes and stuck out their tongues when Blink looked away. Collapsing into a heap of giggles, Pistol slapped Race's shoulder. The short Italian wiggled his dark eyebrows at her and she snorted with laughter again. Blink shot them a murderous look.
They were spending their afternoon wiling away the hours together at Sheepshead. Afterwards, there was supposedly a get together in Brooklyn hosted by Spot. Now that the three were 14 or 15, they were allowed to go. Pistol smiled and stretched before leaning up against the railing. She loved watching the horses run for all they were worth, the animals were truly beautiful.
Racetrack had taken her to meet some of the jockey's one day, apparently his father had been a jockey and that's where his love for the racetrack had come from. The men had taken her to see their horses and she had spent twenty minutes scratching noses and feeding them carrots.
"Are we meeting Mush at Tibby's later before we all head to Brooklyn or are we just hanging out here until it's time and going to Spot's?" Spot Conlon had officially taken over the Brooklyn newsies earlier that year. Sneaks O'Halloran had stepped down and left Spot his cane, a black affair with a shiny gold top.
"We're supposed to just go there. Seeing as how we're already in Brooklyn." Race nodded and lost interest in talking to them once the gun was fired and the horses erupted from their stalls, tearing up the racetrack. Pistol watched the horses thunder down the track, clods of dirt flying in the air, the jockey's yelling. When she glanced over, Blink was watching her with an expression on his face that bordered sad. He saw her looking and quickly shot his gaze towards the opposite direction.
Gritting her teeth, she shook a cigarette out of the pouch she carried them in, and jammed it between her lips. Bumming a match off of the portly man to one side of her, she furiously inhaled and exhaled. Bringing her shaking hand down to steady it on the metal railing, she was shocked to see a larger, boyish hand gently settle down on top of it.
Her blue eyes shot up and came to see Blink smiling down at her, a wink making her grin before he moved away and she was left alone, standing next to Race. For some sudden unknown reason she wished that Blink hadn't taken his hand away. Flick was going to step down any day now, to leave Jack Kelly as leader in his stead. Everyone knew it, and Pistol also knew that her infatuation with the older boy was over. It wasn't anything he had done; she just didn't feel the same about him. Whenever she was around Blink and it made her short of breath didn't help either.
"Ah hell," Racetrack muttered as Heaven Sent came in second. Throwing his cigar stub to the ground, he stepped on it and spat in frustration before tossing his hands up into the air and straightening his checkered, overly large vest.
"Let's go to Spot's, I want a beer." Pistol smothered a laugh behind a dirty hand while she took a drag off of her cigarette and ran another hand through her mussed red hair.
"You shouldn't drink Race, you're too young." Racetrack shot her a look and shrugged his narrow shoulders.
"I may be too young but there ain't nobody around to care what I do. So let's get going already." Pistol felt a jolt of sorrow hit her and she slung a wiry arm around Race's neck and squeezed fiercely.
"I care you bastard. Remember that for me, okay?" The boy looked taken aback but he awarded her with a smile and a wink which immediately made her feel better before he skipped along the sidewalk, dragging her along singing a sailor's shanty.
"Blink help me!"
"You chose your own fate when you let him start singing AND you cut our hair." Racetrack let Pistol go and she charged Kid Blink only to make him drop to the sidewalk in a heap of arms ands legs, her nose glued to the tip of his own.
"When I ask for your help, you give it no questions asked. Don't you love me?" Blink swallowed hard and his face turned an interesting shade of crimson. Pistol blinked at him and felt something within her own chest rising, something she didn't want to deal with so she rose and aimed a kick at his side, missing on purpose.
"I know you love me, you don't have to prove it. Now 'I' want a beer. Let's get the hell going." Racetrack shook his head, adjusting his cabby hat. The trio walked on until they reached the docks, where nearby an abandoned warehouse squatted. Two burly boys stood near the entrance, scowling. They changed their expressions when they approached, spit-shaking with Race and Blink. They entered the house only to be slapped in the face with cigarette smoke, loud talking, and music provided by a boy who was picking on a guitar, his hair in his eyes, which were half-closed.
Spot Conlon lounged in a chair, surrounded by girls his age and older, all provocatively dressed, and looking worse the wear. Pistol grimaced and wouldn't have gone anywhere near them if he hadn't seen her and waved her over. She reluctantly plodded towards him and stood her hands deep in her trouser pockets, copper hair hanging around her face.
"What's shakin' Pistol?"
"Nothin' are the 'hattan boys here yet?" Spot shook his head and lit a cigarette. He had only grown in height the past few years and that was even saying too much. Pistol thought that he would always be on the scrawny side, something that would perpetually piss him off.
"They should be here any minute, want a drink?" When she nodded eagerly he chuckled and handed her a dirty glass that one of his henchman had filled with an amber liquid. She gulped it down and handed her glass to him for a refill.
"Damn girl, you could keep pace with me if you wanted to." Pistol gave him a grin and a wink.
"Yeah but that's only if I wanted to. You can keep your hangovers to yourself; I only drink enough to know when enough's enough." One of Spot's blonde whores blinked and looked at her like she didn't know what color the sky was. Pistol cackled before shoving off and stowing herself securely by Blink's side as he leaned up against a wall, a beer in his hand, cautiously sipping at it.
Blink slung an arm around her neck, pulling her towards him, without a thought. Pistol didn't say anything; this felt comfortable to her. Drowning down her pint, she gave him an apologetic smirk as she made her way out into the crowded room to find another. Shouts arose suddenly and she herself let a cry rip as she saw the Manhattan newsies enter the lodging house. Bourbon bounced over to her side and Pistol greeted her amicably before she saw the girl's eyes dart around till they rested on a boy who resembled Repeat closely. This boy had the same black hair and brown eyes, but his facial features and body were different. He was known as Riddle, and Pistol could tell Bourbon fancied him.
Jack, Skittery, Mush, Bumlets, Pie Eater, Snoddy, Snitch, Crutchy, and a few of the other newer Manhattan boys sauntered over to where she stood with Blink. Some of them cast knowing glances in their direction which caused Blink to stand a few feet away from her. She ignored it, and chose to talk to Crutchy and Bumlet's about the rough day they had had.
When Pistol's eyes sought Blink out she saw him talking to Mush and Jack. They were all laughing and slapping each other's backs and joking around. It hurt her that she could only be included to a certain point. She saw Nell kissing some older Brooklyn boy in one of the corner's and found Bourbon arm-wrestling Riddle. For some reason she wasn't surprised to see that and she let out a giggle.
"Having fun?" She looked over to see a girl standing next to her. She wasn't a familiar face, so she must be from Brooklyn. Pistol was slightly taken aback. Spot had made it widely known that he didn't hold with having girl newsies in Brooklyn. She knew there were a few; they had proven themselves to be tough and reliable.
The girl had long brown hair that was flung over one shoulder in a braid. Grayish-green eyes looked at her in a friendly enough sort of way. She wore faded brown pants and had a green button-down shirt tucked neatly inside at the waist. She was average sized, and Pistol didn't find her to be threatening. In fact, she was smiling and had her nose scrunched up at all the cigarette smoke, making the freckles that were sprinkled across her nose and cheeks almost disappear.
"I'm Pokey," she said sticking out a hand which Pistol took promptly and shook it. They made small talk for awhile, and after an hour or so Pistol excused herself to find a bathroom. Pokey told her where there was one, so she wandered away down a hallway that was lit with gas lamps until she reached a pitted, scuffed door.
When she exited a few minutes later, her face wrinkled in distaste; the Brooklyn boys weren't blessed with a Kloppman to tend to their lodging house. All they had was an O'Malley and he was a regular down at the pub. They were lucky if he even remembered to come home most of the time. Something told her she wasn't alone in the hallway.
A hand clamped down onto her shoulder, and she could smell booze. A slurred male voice sent shivers down her spine as she was whirled about. She didn't recognize the boy standing in front of her. He was tall, and muscular with shaggy dirty blonde hair and gray eyes that were tinged with red.
"Where you goin' doll? Need some company?" Pistol stuck her hand in her pocket, frantically searching for the brassknuckles Blink had given to her a year ago. The boy as if sensing that she was looking for a weapon, pinned her up against the wall and tried to kiss her. Pistol felt like vomiting and she struggled, kicking at his shins.
"Stop moving around bitch, this won't hurt. Relax, you might even like it." A rough hand jammed down the front of her blouse and began to grope around. He pressed her up against the wall with his body, using his other hand to cover her mouth.
"What the FUCK do you think you're doing to her?" Both Pistol and the boy's eyes shot over to where a thoroughly enraged Blink, Mush and Racetrack stood in the hallway. Blink's one good eye was practically bulging out of his head and Mush made a half-hearted attempt to hold him back before looking at Racetrack and grinning; "Nah".
Blink flew at the boy, his fists pounding the kid's head back so quick that Pistol let out a yelp of shock. The boy fell to the ground, so drunk and taken aback that he didn't have a chance. Mush wrapped Pistol into his arms and pulled her out of the way as the trio silently watched Blink pound at the boy, straddled over his fallen form.
"Enough Blink," a rough voice grated out. Again, they all started in shock to see Spot Conlon and Jack Kelly joining their group. Spot frowned as Blink ignored him, and he and Jack forcibly removed the maddened teenager from the still body.
"ENOUGH Blink, you'll fuckin' kill him if you keep it up. Riddle, take Noose up to his room." The quiet boy did so, hoisting up the larger, older boy as if he were a sack of feathers. Spot tilted Pistol's chin up with a gentle hand, his normally cold eyes worried.
"You okay sweet face?" When she nodded he smiled back and chucked her under the chin. Pistol was shaking as Mush led her out of the lodging house, past many curious eyes into the Brooklyn night.
"I can't, I can't….." Mush lit a cigarette for her and Racetrack rubbed her back in calming circular motions. Blink was being given a lecture inside by Jack until he could calm down. Pistol was horrified at the violent creature he had instantaneously become but also touched that he had reacted that way. She shuddered and Mush tightened his grip around her until Blink appeared on the stairway and loped easily down towards where they stood, bathed in moonlight.
He stood silently watching her for a moment, gauging her reaction towards what he had done until she looked up at him, her large blue eyes shining with tears. Blink felt a pain tear through him and he held his arms open. Sobbing and hiccupping, she ran into them, her thin frame racked with tears. He held her, his cheek pressed against the top of her head, making 'Shhh' sounds as he rocked back and forth.
"I'm here for you Pistol, remember that. I'm always, always going to be here for you." Pistol gave a large hiccup and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Together, with his arm around her shoulders they made the walk back to the Manhattan lodging house. That promise was something neither of them ever forgot.
Shout Outs!
Et-spiritus-sancti – I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to lose an eye. I know after I got my wisdom teeth pulled, it felt like they were still there forever, but that finally went away. I'm glad you've gotten as far as you have with my stories and you like them!
Pokey7 – I definitely agree, she's more the slow to anger but when you do watch out type in my opinion, or that's how I like to write her character. I like the older and way taller guys too ;D Thanks for letting me use your character in my stories, I like to write her!
Nada Zimri—Mmm….as solid as Mush's abs….now that's a great comparison. I love picking out bloopers in movies, it cracks me up. I usually can't find them until they're pointed out to me though. Then I get a kick out of trying to find other ones.
My dog ate my penname – In this story, you shall have lines. Oh yes, you shall. Nah you don't stalk him, but you are going to make his life hell for awhile, muahahaha….*lightening cracks*
Skittery: Uhm…Misery?
*stops rubbing hands and cackling* Yes?
Skittery: Calm down okay? *inches towards door*
NEVER! Yeah I liked the haircutting scene too….one of my funnier moments.
Spot: Sheesh. She adds 'y' to all of our names. I bet I know one you CAN'T do that to…Bumletsy, *ponders* Okay so you can…but AHA! What about the ones that ALREADY end in 'y'?! *smirks*
Jamie Bell – Oh I would DEFINITELY make them wash at least once or twice a week…them and their clothes…*thinks* Hmmm…*scribbles* thanks for the idea! Good, I hope you update soon I love your story.