I'm eighteen now. I'd like to say I'm older and wiser. Well, I'm definitely older. But wiser? I KNOW I was wise to not abort or give away my child. She's the light of my life, little Kathleen Anne, with my big blue eyes, and her bastard of a father's thick hair. Thankfully, it's my light brownish blond. The day before she was born, $20 dollars showed up at the Queens lodging house. No note, but I knew it was from Spot. We're tight like that. Almost like family, we are. Some people even say we look somewhat alike. Eh. Whatever. (A/N: If y'all didn't catch the blatant foreshadowing earlier in this paragraph, you're incredibly out of it.)
At least I have someone who cares about my child's welfare. I'm naming Spot and Racetrack Higgins co-godfathers. Which means I'll be going to Manhattan and Brooklyn a lot. Same as every other day. I rolled over, and glared at the sunlight streaming through the windows of the sleeping quarters. I glanced around at my band of sleeping newsies, and I saw that it was good.
"Piston! Hey, Piston! Little dude, youse gotta wake up now," I said, as I gently shook the sleeping ten-year-old awake. He's kind of like a friend, kind of like a surrogate son. His parents died in an apartment fire, and he doesn't have any brothers or sisters. So Kathleen and I are his family, of sorts.
"Eh…five more minutes" he mumbled.
"If I give you five more minutes, little guy, you'll never wake up" I said gently. "So, come on, get up, or you'll miss breakfast."
"What're we having?"
"Same thing we have every day: Oatmeal and toast. But I nicked some brown sugar yesterday. Just don't tell anyone, or they'll get all jealous, and I don't wanna start a riot."
"Oooh! Yummy! Brown sugar! Where is it?!"
"Under my bunk, unless Rook stole it during the night and ATE IT, like those oranges last week!"
Rook stirred. "Someone mention me?" he asked sleepily.
"Just telling Piston about those oranges you nicked from me last week."
"Oh. OK, then. And YOU nicked 'em from the stand on 44th and 2nd, so don't go all sanctimonious on me, Blade. It don't suit you."
I stared at him. "Where the bloody hell did you learn the word 'sanctimonious'?" I asked incredulously.
"Some priest on 53rd was preaching, and some guy said he sounded incredibly sanctimonious. I asked him what that meant, and he said, 'He's very full of himself'."
"I KNOW what it means, Rook. I was asking where YOU learned it."
"Oh. So know you know." (A/N: 'Cause it's Mike's Super Short Show! Hee hee, couldn't resist.)
I looked over and saw Blush Eagle's head just barely sticking out over the tops of her blankets. I went over and poked her awake, and this produced a giggling sound. "Spot! Stop it! That tickles!"
I had to keep from bursting into fits of raucous laughter. She was dreaming about SPOT! I mean, I like Spot too, but as the brother who's older than me by six months that I never had. Not as potential love interest. AAAAAAAAAH! THINK NO EVIL THINK NO EVIL THINK NO-
"Blush? Come on, Blush.
Youse gotta wake up" I heard myself saying. "Big day ahead of us. We gotta
Carry da Banner, tell the city what's what. OK?"
She exhaled. "OK, Spotty."
"WHAT THE HELL?! I AIN'T SPOTTY! WAKE UP, BLUSH!!"
"OK, OK! I'M UP! JESUS CHRIST!! WHAT'S FOR BREAKFAST?!"
My newsies are ALWAYS hungry, in case youse hadn't noticed.
"Same as every day, you moron! Now get up!!"
"Jeez! I'm up already!"
"Good. Just makin' sure."
I walked over to the next bed, which contained a very short newsie with curly red hair named Anastasia. She doesn't like that, so she insists we call her Music. I shook her awake.
"Yo, Music, time to wake up. Breakfast's in 10 minutes."
"Okie-dokie. I'll be there," she said, as she swung her legs out of bed. Satisfied that she'd get up herself, I wandered over to Izzy's bunk. She's always the hardest to get up in the mornings, so I usually enlist Piston's help, and today was no exception.
"OK, Piston, here's the plan: You crawl up onto Izzy's bunk, get right next to her face, and you start singing 'Smells Like Teen Spirit', OK? Got it?"
He nods. He's used to this kind of thing. He gets up there, comes to within a half-inch on her face, draws a breath, and: "WITH THE LIGHTS OUT, IT'S LESS DANGEROUS!! HERE WE ARE NOW, ENTERTAIN US!! I FEEL STUPID, AND CONTAGIOUS!! HERE WE ARE NOW, ENTERTAIN US!!"
"AAAAAAH!" she shrieked, and fell out of bed, hitting her head on the floor. You'd think she'd be used to this by now, seeing as how it happens every day, but she still falls out of her bunk. Every. Single. Day.
"WHY do youse guys INSIST on singing Nirvana to wake me up? EVERY. SINGLE. DAY?!"
I grinned, and high-fived my partner in crime. "'Cause Piston is adorable, and he insists on doing this every day."
Izzy rolled her eyes. "Right. When's breakfast?"
"Ten minutes. Geez! Too bad we can't call you ALL Pie Eater, it'd certainly fit, you guys each eat, what? Twice your own body weight each day? And Rook eats more than that, I'm sure."
"Hey!" came Rook's voice indignantly. "I like to eat, eat, eat, apples and bananas!"
I rolled my eyes. I STILL don't know why we're called the toughest Newsies in New York (after Brooklyn, natch) when we're all as bizarre as Rook. Seriously, it's very frightening sometimes. Maybe if I took off during the night…nah. I like my job.
The day passed without a lot of trouble, I sold all my papes, managed to get a little extra money by 'accidentally' dropping Kathleen's picture on the ground, and had a bombshell dropped on me. OK, backing up…that bombshell. Just after I'd gotten back to the lodging house, Bumlets, Specs, and Skittery showed up at my door, with news that Manhattan was going on strike. They gave me all the info, and asked if I could help. Even though I hated Jack, I hated Pulitzer more for jackin' up the price of the papers that WE, not him, had to sell. The second they left, I took Rook with me and headed off to Brooklyn. I still had a trick or two left, a string or two I could pull.
I have a special connection with Spot Conlon, and he'd believe the news of the strike, even if he didn't believe Jack. But first: I'd have to get past his army of goons. It's not hard, it's just annoying. Those idiots couldn't touch me if I didn't allow it. And I don't. So we got to Brooklyn, made it past reinforcements, and got to see Spot, who, by that time, of course, already knew we were there. His face didn't betray any emotion when we told him of the strike, he just sat there and listened.
"Hey, Switchblade, if youse wanna avoid Jackie-boi, I suggest you leave now. 'Cause here he comes."
I heard a Brooklyn newsie ask, "Goin' somewhere, Kelly?" Spot shoved me out of the way.
"Well, if it ain't Jack be nimble, Jack be quick" he says, with his usual cockiness. Jack does the usual pleasantries, they do the spit shake thing, and then Spot says, "So Jackie-boi, I've been hearin' things from little birds, things from Harlem, Queens," I laugh out loud, and Jack glares at me, "All over. They're chirpin' in my ear."
"I can guess what little bird from Queens you heard it from" he says, glaring in my direction.
Spot laughs nervously. "Youse two wanna take this somewhere else?"
I grabbed Jack. "So sorry to beat you to the punch" I said, through gritted teeth. "But a few little boids from Manhattan showed up at my door, tellin' me Jackie-boi's newsies are goin' on strike. And could I possibly help them out."
He looked me in the eyes for the first time in months. "Look, Blade, I know I haven't exactly been the world's greatest father."
"Understatement of the decade."
"But can youse possibly help us? I mean, youse guys in Queens gotta pay the new, higher, price too."
"Your point being…? Look, we in Queens have held our own for years. And whenever someone needed help, we've been there. But youse guys have yet to return the favor. So why should we help you?"
"Yeah, how do I know you guys won't run the first time some goon come atcha with a club?" I heard Spot say.
"'Cause I'm tellin you, Spot" Jack replied.
Spot walked away, shaking his head. "That ain't enough, Jackie-boi. You gotta show me." So Jack, Dave, and Boots left, looking rather dejected, I must say.
"Spot…you've never made him prove himself before. What's goin' on?"
"I got this feeling" he says. And that's all he'd say. I left Brooklyn with Rook, thinking Spot was thinking more than he was telling. But why wasn't he letting on? Oh, well.
Rook danced past me, singing "True To Your Heart" by 98 Degrees and Stevie Wonder. I shook my head. He drives me nuts sometimes. So, I did the only thing I could: I grabbed his arm, and joined him in singing.
"TRUE TO YOUR HEART, YOU MUST BE TRUE TO YOUR HEART!! 'CAUSE THEN THE HEAVENS WILL PART, AND BABY SHOWER YOU WITH MY LOVE!!"
I'm sure we scared quite a few people, but I didn't really care. I needed to let out my anger and tension this way, instead of taking it out on Jackie-boi's face. Definitely more healthy for everyone. Especially me, since Jack tends to get kind of violent.
"Hey, Rook? Let's grab Izzy and Music, and head over to Manhattan, whaddya say? Race told me Jack's goin' to be gone tonight, so we won't have any more nasty blowups."
"Ooh, will Bumlets be there?"
I laughed. Rook had a thing for Bumlets, which was obvious to everyone, but…well…Bumlets! "Yeah, he should be there" I chuckled softly. "OK, then! Let's go!"
"When are you gonna actually TELL Bumlets that youse like him?"
"Love, chickie. LOVE him. And, to be honest, I don't know. After all, he just had that messy breakup with Swifty, didn't he?"
"Yeah. But, you know, you never know what'll happen 'till ya go for it, right?"
"I guess so."
"Just do it!"
"What are you, chickie, a Nike ad?"
"Shut up, Rook!"
"Oh, come on, you know you love me."
"You wish!"
We got back to the lodging house, and Kathleen wasn't in her crib. This didn't alarm me, 'cause she's figured out how to undo the latch, and she likes to crawl around the lodging house, and in general, be a three-year-old child. But when I looked all over the lodging house and couldn't find her, I went in search of Adrian, the Queens lodging house manager/babysitter/surrogate mother to all of us.
"ADRIAN! Adrian, have you seen-Oh, that's so cute!" Kathleen was curled up in the crook of Adrian's right arm. They were both asleep on his bed, with his left arm draped over her protectively. I sighed in contentment. What did I do to deserve friends like this? Must've been something in another life…just kidding. I headed over to his desk, and scribbled a fast note. 'Adrian. I've gone to the Manhattan lodging house with Izzy, Rook, Music, and Blush. Could you please watch Kathleen and make sure she's in bed by 8? I'll be back by 11. Love, Switchblade.'
I left it on his desk, where he'd be sure to find it right away, then turned, and headed upstairs to round up my friends, and we all headed out to Manhattan, stopping to get Spot on the way. (I noticed, with some amusement, that Blush lived up to her name, and turned flaming crimson. It's SO cute!) If they got together, I wouldn't bat an eyelash. Maybe I'd be slightly surprised, yeah, but that's about it.
So, we got over to Manhattan, were greeted most enthusiastically by Specs, Skittery, and Bumlets, and we sat down to a rousing round of 'Truth or Dare'.
My idea, of course.
SHOUTOUTS:
Checkmate: Yeah, Rook was definitely fun to work with. He's quite an interesting character to mold. But we love him anyway, right? Right. Thanx for the review, I love ya!
Saturday: I hope ya don't mind I made you a total slug-a-bed, that was just where my mind was heading at that time. Hope you liked this chappie, thanx for the review!
Ashley Conlon-Higgins: Did I get your name right? I sure hope I did. Anyways, heh heh heh, you were dreaming about Spot. LOL! Hope you didn't mind that, hopefully you didn't! Thanx for reviewing!
Music: Sorry, I couldn't remember your pen name, please forgive me! sobs Anyhow, hope you liked the way I portrayed you, if not, e-mail me, and I'll fix it to your liking. Love ya, thanx for the review!
And that goes for all of you: If you didn't like the way I wrote you, you can e-mail me and tell me what to fix about you, 'cause I want all of my reviewers to be HAPPY! Love ya, see ya, bye!
Liz
"Not showing that clip around again, are you, Ron?"
"I haven't shown it to anyone!"
"No, not a soul!"
"Except Tom-"
"And the day cook-"
"And the night cook-"
"And the maid-"
"That bloke who came to fix the toilet-"
"And the wizard from Belgium!"
Gotta love Fred and George, dontcha?
Sorry. I just HAD to put that in, 'cause it's really pretty funny, and I LOVE that movie. Toodles!