Diclaimer...ditto...
Chapter 3:
Two days later, Snoddy wasn't going to take no for an answer. "I ain't stayin' here another day," he stated, with a hint of finality to his tone, and then he followed Skittery out the lodging house door. Kloppman didn't bother trying to stop him again. If the boy thought he was better, than Kloppman would let him sell, despite the doctor's orders.
They traipsed through the mucky streets toward the distribution office, where a few of the boys, already with papers in hand, were milling about discussing possible headlines. "There he is," Racetrack's all too familiar voice sounded more angry than friendly as he pushed his way through the crowd of newsies. He came to a halt just in front of Skittery and shoved a paper at the taller boy's chest. "Nice job," he spat.
Skittery looked at the short Italian curiously and then unfolded the paper. "What'd I do?" he asked, skimming through the articles for any hint he could find.
"Page three. Near the bottom," Racetrack supplied coldly, lighting a cigar.
Skittery flipped to the aforementioned page and scanned the article. Snoddy read it over his shoulder. "What's that got ta do with Skittery?" Snoddy asked.
"Think, stupid," Racetrack growled. Snoddy made a move toward him, but Skittery put a hand out to hold him back.
"What? You think I did this?"
"Skittery was at the lodging house all night," Snoddy said.
"I ain't sayin' he done it personally, stupid."
"Then what are you sayin', Race?"
"I'm sayin' if it hadn't o' been for you tryin' ta be so heroic all the time, that fire wouldn't o' happened." A few of the other newsies had gathered around the trio and listened in on the conversation curiously. "That ol' geezer you saved yesterday was the leader of the mob that started the fire."
"What? I saved a guy's life, and all of a sudden, I'm the bad guy? What about Blink and Mush? They were there! They helped!"
"They helped you, Skittery. They couldn't o' cared less about that ol' man. If it hadn't o' been for you, that ol' guy would be layin' in a gutter somewhere, and we would have nothin' ta worry 'bout."
Skittery felt his face grow red and he clenched his fists at his sides. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.
Jack pushed his way through the crowd of newsies just then loaded down with an armful of papers. "What's goin' on here?" he asked, directing the question at Racetrack, who looked cool and collected, puffing on his cigar.
"Why dontcha ask Skittery?" Racetrack replied
"No. Ask Racetrack. Maybe you can figure out why he's blamin' some fire on me!"
Jack looked down at Racetrack expectantly.
"You know dat ol' warehouse where all the bums sleep when it's cold?" Jack nodded, an eyebrow raised. "They found it this mornin' burned to a crisp. The bums inside burned up too."
"You think Skittery started the fire?"
"No, but he let that ol' man live, and that ol' man started the fire. You watch! It'll be the lodgin' house next!" A murmur swept through the crowd.
"Come on, Race. It ain't Skittery's fault. He did what anyone would o' done," Blink said. He put a hand on Racetrack's shoulder, but Racetrack shook it away. Mush, from his spot beside Blink, looked from face to face with a worried expression.
"I wouldn't a rescued no murderer!" Racetrack spat.
"I didn't know who he was!" Skittery shouted back. He took a step toward Race, but Jack put a hand on his chest to stop him.
"What happened, happened," he said. "It ain't no one's fault but the guys that done it. You two, stay away from each other. Get outta here."
The group dispersed on Jack's command, though Racetrack and Skittery lingered slightly longer to exchange a few choice words to one another.
"Do you think I made a mistake?" Skittery asked Snoddy later as they left the gates and headed toward the inner city.
Snoddy remained silent.
"Ya do, don't ya?"
"I dunno, Skittery. I just..." he trailed off. Skittery walked a little bit faster, and Snoddy, still a little sore, had to jog to keep up. "Don't get mad. I dunno what I think. But what's done is done. Like Jack said."
"I figured at least you'd be on my side," Skittery mumbled.
"I am. Look, I don't blame ya for that fire."
Snoddy wanted to say more, to make sure things were still good between them, but words failed him and they reached their destination in silence. "You take this side," Skittery mumbled. Stick in hand, he crossed the busy street with his small pile of papers.
...
"Lookit dis!" Snitch shoved a paper toward Blink. Blink stared at it.
"What am I lookin' at exactly?"
Snitch pointed to a small article near the bottom of the page. Blink scanned it quickly.
"What's it say?" Pie Eater asked.
"It says dat guy is holdin' a meetin' in town day after tomorrow," Snitch informed them. "Dey's havin' it in dat old church on the East side."
"I say we lock 'em in and burn the place down," suggested Racetrack. He didn't look up from the cards in his hand as he said it and Blink felt shivers travel down his spine as he realized the dark haired newsie was serious.
"Why don't we just go down there and see what this guy's all about," proposed Itey.
"Are you crazy?" Skittery asked, incredulously. "A whole building full o' people that hate us? Yeah. That's smart."
"Almost as smart as helpin' out a murderer, huh Skitts?"
Skittery stood up, knocking his chair over in the process. "Let's finish this now, Race." Racetrack ignored the threat and turned his attention instead to Blink who said, "he gots a point."
"Look what they did ta me," Snoddy said, bitterly. "And that was just a little crowd."
"There are more of us now. We can fight back," said Pie Eater.
"Going there is suicide," Specs said. Dutchy nodded his agreement. Skittery seemed satisfied that most people were on his side. He straightened his chair and then sat back down.
"I never had you all figured for yellow bellies," Racetrack said. The statement caused a chaotic outburst. Everyone spoke at once and their voices grew louder as they tried to talk over each other to be heard. It went on for a few minutes until...
"What is going on here?" A voice roared over the chaos, and somehow it was heard by everyone. They quieted themselves immediately as Kloppman stepped into the room. "What in blazes are you arguing about?"
"Nothin'." Racetrack answered.
"That didn't sound like nothing."
"Dat's what it was," said Snitch. Kloppman looked the boys in their eyes and then narrowed his own. "If I hear one more outburst like that, you're all sleeping outside, and you ain't getting your money back."
He slammed the door when he left and the boys knew his threats were idle, but they respected Kloppman so they lowered their voices.
"No one's goin' ta that meetin'," Skittery said.
"I'd like ta see you try an' stop me," Racetrack said smugly.
"I will if I hafta."
"Please stop it, you two," Mush said. He sounded annoyed, which was unusual for Mush. Skittery relented.
"I'm goin' ta bed," he said. Without another word, he stomped up the stairs and disappeared into the bunk room.
...
"Anyone seen Skittery?" Itey looked around the room. "He owes me two bucks."
"I ain't seen him since this afternoon," Specs informed him. "Said he had stuff ta do."
"He's probably out with his murderer friend planning—"
"Enough already Race," Blink scolded. "He feels bad already without you gettin' on him all the time."
Racetrack scowled and then stood up. "I dunno 'bout all o' youse but I'm goin' ta that meetin'."
"Don't," Mush said. "They'll kill you."
"Not if they don't see me. Snitch and I staked out the place earlier. We can listen from the attic."
"Don't be stupid, Race. It's too dangerous. Remember what happened to Snoddy?"
"Snoddy messed up. He let them know he was there."
"Great. Now I suppose it's me own fault I almost got killed, huh?" Snoddy snapped. Race hadn't realized Snoddy was in the room until that moment.
Race ignored him and moved to get his coat. "Anyone with me?"
No one moved for a moment and when Race was about to leave alone, Pie Eater stood up. "I'm comin'," he said.
"Me too," said Snitch. Itey stood up as well.
Mush and Blink exchanged glances. Mush sighed in defeat. "Just be careful guys," he said quietly. He watched them disappear through the door.
Racetrack shivered when they stepped outside. The nights were getting colder and as they made their way silently toward the old church, Racetrack could see his breath. He buried his hands deep in his pockets. Itey did the same beside him.
The journey was a noiseless one.
When they reached the church, people were already pouring out of the front door, buzzing excitedly about the meeting. Race cursed and then he and his three companions ducked behind headstones that jutted from the ground of the cemetery they found themselves in.
"We're too late," Itey whispered.
"It had to have got out early," Racetrack muttered. "Come on, boys. Let's go back before..." Suddenly he was standing straight up, his gaze fixed on something ahead of him.
"What is it?" Snitch asked. The others crowded around him, trying to remain hidden in the darkness of the shadows. Racetrack's face had turned dark. "That traitor..." he mumbled. He started forward, but Pie Eater grabbed his arms and pulled him back.
"What are ya doin', Race?" he hissed.
"I'll show him..." Race pointed and the others stared at the dispersing crowd to see what Race was pointing at. Then Snitch gasped and his eyes grew wide.
"No. Dat ain't him. It can't be him."
Itey narrowed his eyes, and Pie Eater released his grip on Racetrack's sleeve.
Standing alone just outside the large oak doors of the church, hands tucked deep in his pockets, was Skittery.