Dutchy didn't stay unconscious for very long. He was jerked awake roughly by someone shaking his shoulder.
"Is he awake yet?" someone asked from above him.
"I don't think so. Did you bring the water?"
"Yeah."
"Water?" Dutchy muttered.
"Hey, guys, I think he's awa—" someone else started, but it was too late. A cascade of cold liquid hit Dutchy full in the face. He instinctively recoiled, then sat straight up, coughing and scrubbing at his dripping face.
"Knock it off," he gasped. "I'se awake." Gingerly, he drew his spectacles off his face and squinted down at them. "You guys coulda taken these off before you threw water all over me, ya know."
Jack shrugged guiltily. "Sorry, we just wanted to wake you up before you attracted too much attention."
"Attention?" Dutchy put his spectacles back on, and straining to see through the waterlogged lenses, noted that they were now outside the large tent, and that there was a small crowd of curious onlookers around. Despite the observers, Dutchy took a deep breath, happy to be out of the tent and back in the fresh air.
And more than happy, because now he remembered that he'd seen Bumlets, nearly spoken to him, and that soon, they were going to meet Bumlets out here. He grinned a little bit.
"How… how long was I out?" He looked around at David, Jack, and Denton, all kneeling around him.
Denton shrugged. "It wasn't very long. We told the people who were looking that you were afraid of crowds, and that it was too much for you—"
"—and then we took you outside." David looked around warily, shielding his eyes from the sun. "It seemed safest."
"Yeah, good plan," Dutchy muttered. "You mean… We still gotta wait through the whole show for – uh, for the meeting?"
"'Fraid so," Jack said, not without sympathy. "You wanna go watch the rest of it? The guy guardin' the entrance said that we could get back if in you wanted once you was awake."
Dutchy glanced towards the door of the tent, from where he could hear the roar of the crowd above the roar of some other sort of animal, and cleared his throat nervously. "Nah. I'd rather not. I mean, if it's all the same to you guys… I don't really wanna go back in there."
"Yeah," David agreed. "I don't think the circus is for me."
Jack looked down at the ground. "Oh… I actually kinda wanted to…"
The three boys looked at each other uncomfortably for a moment, but were saved from any decisions when Denton cleared his throat.
"If it's agreeable to all of you, Jack and I could go back inside for the rest of the show, while you two could relax out here, and then we could all meet up and go to find, er, Buttons right afterwards."
"Works for me."
"Sounds good."
"Yeah." Jack fixed Dutchy and David with a stern glare. "But don't wander off, you guys. I mean it."
David grinned. "Relax, Jack. We're not children."
Jack most definitely rolled his eyes skyward at that, but only smiled painfully and said, "Just… be careful," before climbing to his feet and heading back towards the main tent with Denton.
"Y'know," Dutchy muttered to David, "sometimes I really think that Jack think that we ain't able to take care of ourselves without him."
David scratched the back of his neck and shrugged. "Some of us are better able than others," he mumbled back, sounding slightly hesitant.
"What do you mean, Dave?"
"Nothing."
Dutchy stared unwaveringly at David. "C'mon. You meant somethin'."
"I really didn't."
"Then why'd you say it?"
"I – " David glanced over at Dutchy and sighed. "You're my friend and I like you, but, uh, you're… not very good at taking care of yourself."
Dutchy stiffened in instinctive indignation. "Hey!"
"I don't want to make you angry." David sighed. "But…" As he trailed off, he gestured helplessly.
It was very hard, but Dutchy was able to swallow his pride long enough to see David's point. "You'se… saying that I cause a lot of trouble, huh?"
"Well, only really recently."
"And that I ain't able to take care of myself." Dutchy looked around, trying to hide his hurt. "Not sure I agree with that."
"Well, Dutchy—"
"I just been having a really tough time lately, that's all."
"Why?"
Dutchy stared incredulously at David. "You kidding?"
"There's something other than Bumlets that's been bothering you." David glanced over at Dutchy. "At least, that's what it's seemed like."
"No, there ain't. Not – not anymore." Dutchy coughed uncomfortably. "I… I took care of it."
David leaned back and laid on the grass, staring up at the sky. Now that the crowd of onlookers had thinned out, they really had a quite pleasant little place to sit. "You never talk about yourself, you know that? Most of the rest of the guys, as soon as I start talking to them, they tell me where they came from, how they wound up at the Lodging House. Even the really bloody or really sad stories they don't mind telling. But not you. You just don't talk about where you came from, who you were… even who you really are." He paused, and seeming to sense Dutchy's discomfort, added, "Neither did Bumlets. I guess that's one thing you two have in common."
"What is?"
"You're both really private people. You don't look it, Dutchy, but you're very closed-mouthed."
Dutchy pursed his lips. "Why does every single person suddenly want to know where I came from? For eleven years no one cares enough to ask my name, and now suddenly everyone's just got to know."
David held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Whoa, whoa," he said quickly. "It's all right. You don't have to tell me. I was just mentioning that there was something on your mind other than Bumlets."
"Well, whether there is – or was – it ain't my story to tell to just anybody." Dutchy blew out a long breath. "I mean – it is my story, but I ain't… You'se a great guy and all, Dave, but I ain't gonna tell you."
"That's all right, really," David smiled, but Dutchy sensed relief in that smile, probably because he seemed to be taking the whole conversation better than David had thought he would.
"And I can take care of myself," Dutchy continued firmly. Somehow, it seemed really important that he get that point across to David. "I can. I just…" He sighed. "Listen, it's a lot easier to take care of yourself when you don't think that you need or, uh, even want anyone else."
"I understand that," David replied seriously. When Dutchy didn't respond immediately, he said, "Want to just sit here and watch the clouds?"
Dutchy smiled wearily. "Yeah. That'd be nice." Following David's lead, he lay back on the grass, pillowing his head on his hands, and gazed up at the sky.
The two boys lay there in silence for a while. Dutchy didn't mind, and didn't feel the need to fill the space with empty words. He was content to just think about what a strange turn his life had taken in the past weeks.
If he took the whirling emotions in his head and strained them, removing the fear, the worry, the frustration, the grief, removing everything that had been his life for so many years, then what he found left was something so new and so unfamiliar that he wasn't even sure what to call it.
Up until then, he'd lived his life day-to-day, hoping to make enough money to have something to eat that night. He hadn't had any family to go home to, any persons or places to serve as a touchstone in his life, to keep him grounded. Thoughts of the rest of his life had filled him with a fear that he'd tried unsuccessfully to exorcise. He wasn't a particularly good newsie – he was decent enough to scrape by, but certainly nowhere in the same league as Spot Conlon, or Jack, or even someone like Mush – and he knew that soon, he'd be too old to make any sort of a living as a newsie. And then what? What was he qualified to do?
He was far too old and too poor to get any sort of education. Maybe if his family had lived, his lot would have been different, but he had always known that dreaming of what might have been was no good. So once he was too old to sell papers, he would probably be forced to seek a living in the factories, doing difficult, dreary work until the day he died – not that anyone would care much when he did die, because he'd never gotten close to anyone. Dutchy had been filled with a dull horror whenever he tried to picture his remaining years, and with sadness when he realized that there was nothing he could do about it. It was an ill-defined, nebulous sort of life, not that he could have put his feelings about it into words, and he'd often wondered if there would ever be much of a point to him getting up in the morning.
Now, however, something had changed, shifted. It wasn't that his prospects were any better: he was still uneducated, with no hope of ever finding a decent job or having a comfortable life. All the same, the world looked just a little brighter. It wasn't even just that he now knew that he was completely, hopelessly in love with Bumlets, though that was part of it.
It was more that Dutchy now knew that someone cared about him, wanted him around. There was someone out there who cared where he was, and who would notice if he didn't come back at night. That meant more to him than he could even imagine.
And with someone else out there, even if Dutchy did end up working a dangerous job in a factory, it wouldn't be so bad, because he could go home – wherever and whatever that would be – at night, and have someone there to care that he had made it back safely for another day.
Maybe he wouldn't even have to get a job in a factory. On his own, he wouldn't even have enough money or be brave enough to try something else, but if another person were there – if Bumlets were there – then maybe he could be brave enough to leave New York and seek his fortune somewhere else.
He smiled to himself. Of course, he'd have to wait and talk to Bumlets about all of this, once this whole disaster with the clowns had ended. Dutchy had every faith that it would end well. After all, if Bumlets had managed to take care of himself thus far, even managing to work with the clowns undetected, he would manage to get himself out of this. All he'd really needed Dutchy for, Dutchy now realized, was to know that there was someone who would care if he died. Not for the disastrous plans, just for… hope.
Hope. That was the word. That was what Dutchy was feeling, and it was something so new to him that it almost hurt.
But once this was all over and he talked to Bumlets… Maybe they would leave, go somewhere together.
"You know, Dave," he mused quietly, "I think I'se getting' too old for all this."
"For all what?" David asked.
"Bein' a newsie." Dutchy paused, then nodded firmly. "Yeah. If I'se learned anythin' from all this… Well, I think I'se ready to move on."
"To what?"
"Not sure yet. But I ain't gonna be a newsie forever and I don't wanna be."
"All right," David said slowly. "I understand, but… the guys are going to miss you."
"Yeah." Dutchy tried to grin, but his lips kept twitching. "I'll visit."
"What are you going to do?" David turned his curly head to look at Dutchy.
Dutchy licked his lips nervously. "That all depends."
"On?"
"Bumlets."
"Oh."
Silence fell again. This time, though, it was only a couple minutes before David spoke again.
"What about the spy?'
Dutchy blinked. "What's that got to do with me leaving?"
"Nothing really, but it's got to do with getting Bumlets out of this mess safely."
"Oh, yeah." Dutchy considered briefly. "I still got a really tough time believing that one of our guys is a traitor."
"Me too." David sat up, bracing himself with his hands. "The first thing that I ever noticed about the newsies was how close-knit all of you seemed. If one fell, you picked each other up. Sort of an, 'one for all, all for one' sort of thing. So how could someone do something like that?"
"I dunno." Dutchy shrugged. "Would have to be someone who felt more loyalty to the clowns than us, and that just ain't possible. Not with our group."
"That's true. Everyone's just been around for too long." David frowned. "Or maybe… Maybe it wasn't loyalty to the clowns. Maybe it was –" Suddenly, his eyes got very wide, and he snapped his mouth closed.
Dutchy blinked. "Maybe it was what, Dave?"
"Nothing."
"Dave."
"… It's just something I have to check on." David coughed, looking slightly ill-at-ease. "Still just a hypothesis. I have no proof."
"Hypo-what?" Dutchy muttered, but shrugged. David was making it clear that he wasn't going to say a word, and Dutchy was just going to have to trust him.
All the same, Dutchy kept a wary eye on David as they sat there quietly for a bit longer.
Fairly shortly, the noise of the crowd increased and people started pouring out through the wide tent opening. Most sounded quite pleased with the performance.
David and Dutchy sat up and looked at each other in surprise.
"That's it?" David asked.
"I guess so," Dutchy responded, and shrugged.
They waited patiently until Jack and Denton had found their way back over to them, then both stood up, brushing the grass from their clothes.
"How was the show?" David asked.
"It was all right." Jack shrugged, but he had that little smile in his eyes that meant that he'd really enjoyed it.
"As circuses go, it was a good one," Denton added. "Very well put-together."
"Was…" Dutchy paused. "Was it supposed to be so… short?"
Denton laughed. "That's circuses for you. They take your money, put on a quick show, and get rid of you. Children don't have the patience to sit still for very long on beautiful days like this and… Well, I'm sure you noticed the smell in there."
"Yeah, I noticed," Dutchy said, and wrinkled his nose. "I had a better time out here."
"How'd you guys pass the time?" Jack asked.
David shrugged. "We just sat and talked, mostly. Looked at the clouds. There wasn't all that much time to pass."
"So," Dutchy broke in, trying to sound even slightly casual, "is it time for the, uh, meeting?"
Denton shook his head. "Let's give it a few more minutes, guys. That'll give the crowd time to thin out. The fewer people who see anything, the better." He glanced around. "Oh, and Dutchy, as long as we're still on circus grounds, you should hold onto my hat and jacket. Just to be on the safe side."
Dutchy jammed the hat back onto his head and nodded. "Okay."
But it wasn't okay. He didn't want to wait. He wanted to run to the far side of the tents right that moment. He wanted to run right up to Bumlets, grab him, and never let go.
Now, with the chance to see and speak to Bumlets again so close, the time seemed to slow until mere seconds felt like minutes. By the time five minutes (or near enough as made no difference) had passed, Dutchy was pacing back and forth nervously, his hands laced tightly together behind his back.
What if something went wrong? What if Bumlets didn't meet them?
"Dutchy, slow down," Jack said irritably. "You'se givin' me a headache."
Dutchy paused in his pacing and glanced over at Jack. "Oh. Right. Sorry." He turned his gaze to Denton. "So, can we go now?"
They all scanned the crowd, and seeing that it had sufficiently decreased in size, Denton nodded, but cautioned, "Don't run. Look casual, like you're going back there to have a smoke."
"Yeah. I can do that." Dutchy grinned. "C'mon, guys."
Jack and David exchanged glances. "Actually, Dutchy, if it's okay with you, we'll be along in a couple of minutes."
"What? Why?" Dutchy asked, confused.
David coughed delicately. "We talked it over while you were unconscious. Seeing as how you're the… closest to Bumlets, we thought it might be nice to give you two a little time to catch up. Since you're good friends."
David arched an eyebrow at Dutchy, and Dutchy smiled back gratefully.
"Sure," he said quickly, "I got no problem with that. I'll, uh, just head over now. See you guys there in a few minutes." He nodded to the three of them, then turned around and headed purposefully towards the cluster of small tents, his heart pounding.
"Of course he'll be there," he muttered to himself. "He promised. He ain't the kind of guy to break a promise." Dutchy's hands clenched into fists at his sides. "He's gotta show. He's gotta."
As he neared the back of the large cluster of tents, his pace slowed. He was almost frightened of what he might – or might not – find back there.
"B—Buttons?" he called softly, searching the shadows for any sign of movement. "Buttons? You there?" He took a deep breath and tried a little louder. "Buttons?"
"Shhhhhh."
Dutchy spun around, his mouth dry as cotton, searching for the source of the noise. As he watched, a figure detached itself from the shadow of a large tree and started to walk over to him.
Dutchy met the figure half-way, eyes peering through his dirty spectacles to try and make certain of who it was he was looking at.
"Dutchy," Bumlets said quietly, and Dutchy's heart soared.
It was Bumlets, and that was Bumlet's voice, not that harsh voice he'd had in the tent, even though he sounded tired and strained, and even though he looked liked he'd lost a little weight under the heavy makeup, and even though a bowler was tucked low over his face, none of it mattered, because it was Bumlets, and he was safe, and he was right here. Dutchy wanted to reach out and touch his face, but there was something forbidding about Bumlets right this second, and suddenly he felt too shy to do anything.
"Dutchy," Bumlets said again, in that half-whisper, "what're you doin' here?"
Dutchy blinked, stunned, and not a little hurt. "Well," he managed, "you told us to meet you here."
"Yeah, I know that. What're you doin'… here?" Bumlets stretched his arm out, encompassing the entire circus grounds.
Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Dutchy found that he couldn't look Bumlets quite in the eye. "We – I had to find you."
Bumlets blinked, though it was hard to discern through the shadows that hid his eyes. "You came here to find me?"
"K—kinda," Dutchy said, then hastened to explain, "I mean, we came here to see if we could find out if the clowns knew anythin' about where you were, or if they had you here. So, I guess, we, uh, came about you, but we didn't know that you was here."
"You been looking for me?" The flat tone in Bumlets' voice lifted a little, and suddenly Dutchy felt that Bumlets was feeling just as awkward as he, and just as scared.
"Of course I've been looking for you!" Dutchy exclaimed, taking care to keep his voice quiet. "I've been worried day and night that they'd gotten you, that you was gone forever, and then we find you here, and I don't know how you done it, but I think it's amazin' how you somehow managed to hide right under their big, ugly clown noses, and I'se just so glad that you're all right." He broke off, wondering if he'd said too much.
Finally, Bumlets lifted the hat away from his face, and Dutchy could finally see his eyes. They were exhausted, with tension lurking in their depths, but they were still Bumlets' steady brown eyes, gazing directly at Dutchy.
"I…I've been wondering a lot," Bumlets said quietly, "if what happened that night – if what you said or did… I mean, I'd understand if you'd wanna take it back. We was both scared and, uh, under lots of pressure. It… it didn't have to mean nothin', is all I'm sayin'."
Dutchy stared at him incredulously. "You crazy?" he asked loudly. "I've been out there, losing my mind over you, and you've been in here, working face-to-face with the clowns who want you dead, and you've been spendin' your time worryin' about whether I like you?"
He'd had enough of talking. Clearly Bumlets had been so scared by his experience that he no longer knew which was up. Well, Dutchy knew damn well which way was up and how he felt about Bumlets, and he wasn't going to stand there for another minute without telling Bumlets in no uncertain terms how he felt.
Without another word, he stepped forward and flung his arms as tightly around Bumlets as he could manage. Lowering his head and pressing it against Bumlets' shoulder, he was more than thankful to feel Bumlets' arms creeping around to hold him too.
"I swear," he said through clenched teeth, "if you ever even think 'bout runnin' away and never gettin' in touch with me to tell me where you are again, I'll never forgive you. You realize how scared I was?"
"I was kinda scared myself," Bumlet mumbled back, but there was no accusation in his words. His fingers clutched at the back of the jacket Dutchy was wearing. "I spent the longest time just… runnin' and hidin', cause I had nowhere to go, but I knew that they was gonna catch up to me sooner or later. So I – I came here. I figured the best place to hide was the only place they thought they'd never see me. They spend most of their free time out lookin' for me, and they ain't never seen me without this on my face, so they ain't never recognized me. But I'm so tired, Dutchy. I'm so tired of bein' sure that any second, one of 'em's gonna take a closer look at me. The circus is leavin' town soon, but that ain't gonna mean it's over. They got friends all over the place who'll keep lookin', even when they ain't here. I – I don't know what to do. I don't know how long I can keep runnin', Dutchy, but I… I sure am glad that you found me. I wanted to see you more than anythin'. I just… I don't think I can stay here."
Dutchy tightened his grip on Bumlets even more, wishing he could take away the exhaustion and the pain he heard in Bumlets' voice. "So we'll go," he said simply.
Bumlets pulled back slightly to look at him. "What?"
"You and me. Let's get out of here, Bumlets. I was thinkin' that I'se gettin' old for a newsie anyway. Let's take what we got and leave New York. Together."
"You serious?" Bumlets breathed.
"I ain't never been more serious about nothing in my life," Dutchy replied firmly, and was rewarded by the smile on Bumlets' face that he'd despaired of ever seeing again, the one that made Bumlets' eyes sparkle and his nose crinkle.
"Okay, Dutchy," Bumlets said finally, sounding as though a great burden were lifting from his shoulders. "Let's do it. I got a couple things back at the Lodging House I wouldn't mind grabbin', but—"
He was cut off by a harsh voice. "But it looks like the plans have been changed."
The two boys pulled apart in surprise, Dutchy having a sense of déjà vu that filled him with dread. They gazed at the next tent over, from where several men had just emerged to stand in a straight line, staring ice at the two of them.
Barely even aware that he was doing it, Dutchy grabbed Bumlets' hand.
"It was a clever plan, kid," the leader, Duffer, said, "and you kept us guessing for a while." He shook his head. "Pretending to be one of us, and it almost worked. Lucky for us that Gonzo over there caught you talking to Blondie here and wondered why one of us would be talking to one of you."
Dutchy cast a frantic eye back in the direction of the main tent, wondering where David, Jack, and Denton were, what was taking them so long. They probably thought they were doing him a favor by delaying, he thought grimly.
"Don't worry, Bumlets," he muttered, "I ain't gonna let 'em get you."
Bumlets looked over at Dutchy, and suddenly smiled and squeezed Dutchy's hand, before letting go. "Don't you worry," he said quietly. "I'll make certain you're safe."
Thrown off guard, Dutchy groped for Bumlets' hand, but Bumlets had already stepped forward, gazing at the intimidating men.
"Okay," Bumlets said quietly, his voice surprisingly steady. "You can have me. Just leave him alone."
Dutchy stared, openmouthed, at Bumlets. "Are you insane?"
"Blondie," Duffer said, "we got nothing really against you. You should get out of here while you still can. And don't tell anyone about this."
"Go, Dutchy," Bumlets muttered. "I don't want you to get hurt."
"I ain't goin'," Dutchy growled in return. "You think I'd be just fine if I walk away and let these goons have you?" He shook his head fiercely.
"I can't do this if I know that you ain't safe," was Bumlets' terse response.
"Good," was Dutchy's even terser response. "I ain't leavin' you, so you might as well get used to the idea."
Duffer sighed and rolled his eyes skyward. "I haven't seen stupidity like this since I was in Romeo and Juliet. Fine, then, kill them both."
"Got any more plans?" Bumlets whispered to Dutchy as the men slowly closed in around them.
Dutchy fought back a hysterical laugh. "My plans never work. I was hopin' you had somethin'."
"I wish we'd had more time." Bumlets didn't sound like he was talking about time to plan.
"Me too." Neither did Dutchy.
But then there was no more time, because they were both surrounded by clowns and it was too late.
AN: Does anyone else sense the story's climax approaching? Because I certainly do. Stay tuned!
