Sorry I haven't updated in a while (I'm beginning to sound like a broken record) but I have an excuse besides school this time: I was recruiting another newsies fan. That's right, folks, my friend Tinsley (great name, huh?) is now joining our ranks. In other news, Calculus and college essays aren't going so hot, so I might have to take long breaks between updates. But don't worry. I love this story too much to let it die. Although I think it's getting to complicated...too many backgrounds and relationships. Oh well.
That night, as usual, Jack slipped out of the Lodging House and walked to Medda's. Nodding to Jacob, the security guard who had replaced Toby the clown when Medda's audiences started getting rowdier, Jack took his customary place just offstage to watch the show. Medda caught sight of him and smiled, then turned her attention back to the audience. After her performance, Medda bowed to the men and boys whooping and cheering her name, then ran offstage to give Jack a hug. "Glad to see you, Kelly," she said, kissing the top of his head. She released him, and, holding him at arm's length, said, "I really am. But why have I been seein' ya so much lately, kid? Why aren't ya with your friends?"
Jack sighed, throwing down the cigarette he'd been holding. "I don't know," he said slowly as he stomped it out, "I jus'...I don't like nights alone."
Medda looked at him sympathetically, "But you're not alone, Kelly. You've got the newsies."
Jack shrugged, "Durin' da day, da boys are fine – dey're great – dey're family," he paused, staring at the ground, "but at night, especially lately, I don't feel like da rest of 'em." He looked up, and empty smile on his face, "I didn't have da best life before now."
"None of them did, Jack," Medda exclaimed, shocked, "You, of all people, should know that! They tell you, they all tell you how their parents beat them or left them or died, how they've starved for years, so many things!"
"Not Davey," Jack answered sullenly, "not all of 'em. An' ever since da strike, it's like dey t'ink I'm perfect, that my life is perfect, but it ain't!" Frustrated, he slammed his fist against the wall, "An' dey tell me deir pasts an' expect me to fix 'em. An' I jus' can't." He stared wildly at Medda for a moment, then, dropping his gaze, he whispered, "Dey tell me everyt'ing when dey're feelin' bad...mostly at night." He sounded ashamed.
Medda looked at him for a long moment, then pulled him into a wordless hug. Directing Jacob to "keep things under control," she led Jack off to give him the mothering he needed.
Jack left the theatre an hour or two later. As the cold air hit him, he cursed himself for forgetting his jacket. "You'd t'ink I'd know by now dat jus' cause it's warm in da daytime, don't mean it ain't gonna be cold at night, "he remarked to no one. Shaking his head, he began to jog lightly as he headed home, where, unbeknownst to him, three of his friends were worrying about him.
AT THE SAME TIME
In the middle of a casual game of poker in the otherwise-empty attic, Blink suddenly put down his cards and said, thoughtfully, "I'se t'ink dere's somethin' wrong wit' Jack."
Race took his cigar out of his mouths and replied, "I'se t'ink dere's somethin' wrong wit you. Pick up dose cards, boy."
Blink rolled his eye, "C'mon, Race, I'm sure you've noticed it. You notice everyt'ing'."
Race sighed and, stacking his cards neatly, began tapping the stack against his chin, a distracting habit that he had picked up from the same boy who had once taught him to play poker. "Yes," he dragged the word out, then spoke quickly, "I've noticed dat he don't stay 'ere in da evenings, an' dat 'e looks scared when one o' da boys, 'specially da newer ones, tries to talk to 'im alone."
Mush looked blankly back and forth between Blink and Race, who were staring intently at each other, then he shrugged, seeming to accept their judgement, "So, what're we gonna do about it?"
"Nothing!" Race exploded, "This always happens, Mush; someone has a problem an' you wanna jus' sail right in an' fix it!"
"Jack would do it fer us," Mush held out staunchly.
"'E has a point, Race," Blink said hesitantly.
Race shook his head firmly, then gestured to the cards, "Whaddaya got?" he asked flatly, all enthusiasm gone.
The other two glanced at their cards. "Nothing," Mush sighed, and, "Nothing," Blink threw his cards back down.
"I win again," Race started to rake in his meager profits, but Mush stopped him with a hand on the pile.
Race refused to look up, as Mush insisted, "Jack would do da same fer us."
Annie bit back a yelp as she pricked herself yet again with the needle. She glanced around furtively to see if anyone had noticed – this was the third time in an hour, and, frankly, she couldn't afford that many slips. It had taken her a long time and a lot of skill to get a job this cushy; it wasn't time to mess up now. The rapid movement of her needle slowed as she mused on the fact that her mother's lessons, to which she had so objected as a child, had turned out to be so practical.
Then, furiously, she tore her mind from images of her mother, sewing with short, angry jabs. "I'm getting' to be as bad as 'im," she muttered under her breath.
Race held out for two nights; Mush's blunt, hopeful appears to Race's "better nature," and Blink's more subtle arguments wore him down until, two nights later, he found himself flanked by Mush and Blink, asking Jack if he "wanted to go to a show or somethin'."
"A show?" Jack asked suspiciously, peering at the boys.
Race's poker face held, and Blink's huge grin wasn't terribly unusual, but the ever-innocent Mush flushed guiltily.
Jack's eyes narrowed, but before he could make up an excuse, Race spoke up again, surprising Mush and Blink with the gentleness in his voice, "C'mon, Jacky-boy, you haven't had a night out since...forever. You always gotta take care of everyone. Have some fun fer once."
Jack grinned slightly, regarding the three boys who stood in front of him, helping him as well as they could. He grabbed his coat and said, "OK, let's go."
The three conspirators grinned at each other and followed him out the door.
Annie was having a particularly bad night. "Da," she pleaded, "jus' go to bed, alright?"
"Maybe you're right," her father slurred, "I'm getting' tired."
Annie almost wept with relief as he stumbled to his bedroom. After she finished putting him to bed, she slumped in a chair in the main room. She had only been sitting for a few seconds, though, before she felt the walls closing in on her. Disregarding coat or wrap, she rushed out the door and down the stairs.
She ran through the streets as fast as she could, hair streaming behind her, lungs screaming, until she finally had to stop from exhaustion. She looked around to get her bearings and saw a sign proclaiming to passersby that they had reached the "Newsboys' Lodging House." The name reminded her of someone, a pleasant memory. She tried to think...but before she could remember him, the object of her thoughts strolled out of the door under the sign, accompanied by two other boys.
Three lost boys and one lonely girl, all in need of help and friendship. They're about to meet.
To the tune of the new Oscar Meyer commercial (My bologna has a first name/It's O-s-c-a-r...)
There is a lovely little button/At the botton of the screen/And if you click it right now/You'll see what I mean/When I say,/That button makes me happy/It doesn't take too long/So please just click it right now/And I'll sing all day long. Hey!
koodles: I will always have time in class to write because, otherwise, I would ahve to actually listen to my teacher. And we can't have that.
AngryPrincess: another chapter for you to enjoy...
Mydela: computers are tres stupide, I agree. Did I just impress you with my French? Want me to say something else in French? Well, I can't. That's about all three years of high school French did to me. Not that you care. But in case you do, now you know. Know what? I have no idea what I'm talking about. I need to take a nap.