Chapter 10: Guarded Secrets
In the middle of the night, Alyssa came to her senses and crawled out of Racetrack's bunk. Not that it was a bad place to be. Needing time to think, Alyssa hauled herself out onto the chilly fire escape.
The sound of the window being shut brought Mercy out away from Spot. Something was wrong; Mercy could sense a heaviness in the air. As silently as she could for a cripple, Mercy followed.
"Alyssa." Mercy said when she found her friend.
"Everythin's wrong." Alyssa said suddenly after a few moments of silence. "Why did everythin' hafta end up like dis way?"
Now Mercy was curious. She knew that it was not her place to pry into Alyssa's past, but, if things began there, she had to know so she could help. "What's wrong?"
"Everythin'. If I had nevah met Leila, I'd a nevah had ta go to da House. I'd a nevah had ta relive a thousand painful memories." Alyssa banged her fists against the rail of the fire escape. A cold wind blew, but Alyssa did seem to notice because she kept talking as though it was a balmy summer night. "Walkin' in ta da House reminded me a how me tree brudders condemned me ta a gutter life. Dey were too concerned wid demselves ta realize dat dey had a baby sistah ta take care a."
Mercy thought carefully before speaking. "Ya got brudders?"
"Yeah. Da only good ting dat dey evah did was fer me was get me outta Ireland an' away from me faddah." Alyssa was so shaken that she did not realize that she was saying these things. "After me mudder died, he beat me everyday just 'cause I reminded him a her. He left us when I was five. Actually, it was more like we left him." The two girls sat in silence for a while Alyssa spoke no more, letting Mercy fill in the blanks. At about four in the morning Mercy crawled back inside to get a few moments of sleep before the bustle of a new day came down on her. Alyssa stayed on the fire escape, cold, but not really caring. She knew now that she had spilled a good deal of information, but Mercy would never tell unless there was an absolute need.
"I's gotta talk ta Spot." Alyssa's voice snapped in the chill air just before sunrise. It seemed like a good idea considering that he did not know what was going on. Back inside the bunkroom, Alyssa felt secure again. Lately, she had been getting the feeling that she was being watched. The feeling only came when she was away from her friends. It was unsettling. Walking into her room she pushed the feeling aside.
"Spot?" she said into the dark room.
"Whaddaya want?" Spot was awake but he still growled.
"Da guys tink dat I found ya. Dey know nothin' else. If dey ask me any questions, I's gonna say nothin'. Make up any story dat ya want ta cover yer ass an' I'll go wid it." To Alyssa, this sounded like a jumbled mess that was supposed to be a coherent thought.
Spot said nothing and began to finger his wounds. The idea of him getting wounded was new to him. Back at the rally, he had taken on men twice the size of him and never got a scratch. That was the power of the King of Brooklyn. He was also wrestling with the knowledge that a girl had saved him from being killed. That was something that would take a long time to forget. Had it been one of his boys or even Jack or Race, he would not have a problem.
The sunlight coming through the window showed Spot just what Alyssa had gone through to keep him alive. He had never seen someone look as bad as she did right now and not complain once. In that moment, Spot realized that she was just as tough as any of the Newsies and that her sweet demure was just something to hide the toughness. He watched as she gathered her clothes and began to head out. "Alyssa," he said suddenly. She turned and looked at him, a quizzical expression on her face.
"Thanks." That was all the King of Brooklyn said before he fell back on the bed.
In the washroom, Alyssa cleaned her wounds again and realized just how bad they were. She had not noticed because they were just like the wounds she had been receiving all her life. A few gashes, bruises and scrapes were nothing new. She dressed in the guys clothes that she had and began to head down the stairs.
"Where do ya tink yer goin'?"
Alyssa did not bother to turn around to answer Jack's question. "Dere's a few t'ings I wanna find out."
"I know ya saved Spot. He tol' me da whole story." Jack took a long look at Alyssa. "Dere's gotta be more den wha' yer tellin' me."
Alyssa sighed deeply before answering. "Dere was somethin' real familiar 'bout da attack."
Jack's brotherly nature began to kick into overdrive. "Ya sure ya don' want one a us ta come witcha?"
"Havin' one a yous dere would ruin my whole theory. Somethin's goin' on and it involves me." Alyssa turned around to find a hurt expression on her brother's face. "I really appreciate da offer. Don' tink I don't. Tell da guys I'll see dem tonight."
Jack mutely nodded and walked back to the bunkroom. He knew that allowing her to do this was wrong, but he did not want to betray the trust she had in him and the other Newsies.
"Where'd Alyssa go?" was the first question that Mercy asked Jack when she saw him.
Cowboy knew he could not lie to Alyssa's best friend. "She said dat she wanted ta check somethin' out. Said somethin' 'bout da attack bein' familiar 'er somethin'." Jack slumped against the doorframe, silently cursing himself.
Mercy put a comforting hand against Jack's shoulder. "I know ya don' like wha' she's doin', but ya gotta let her do it. She's been on 'er own her whole life. Protectin' her now wont do 'er much good." Mercy was surprised at her own insight into Alyssa's situation.
As the rest of the Newsies awoke, Jack was bombarded with questions as to where Alyssa was. He tried to tell them that she had gone to work, but the Newsies were not stupid enough to accept that answer. Race took to glaring and muttering at anyone who came near him. It had been slightly disappointing for him to wake up and not have Alyssa there.
10.10.10
Silently, Alyssa crept through the alley ways leading to where she had found Spot just that night. Against the small of her back, she could feel the gentle, reassuring pressure of her knife. Earlier, she had gone to Queens to buy some papes so she could fully pull off the Newsie façade. She had gone to Queens to get them because she was known at the Manhattan Distribution Office. When she reached the alley, Alyssa slumped against a wall to catch a few moments rest. She was aware of the damage that the fight had caused; everything from the broken crates down to the bloodstains. All of this mess made the already narrow alley seem even narrower. Now it was time to do some searching.
Finding nothing worthwhile after what seemed like forever, Alyssa slumped against the wall again. With the brick wall pressing against some of her bruises, she took stock of what she knew. 'Obviously, who ever they are, are after me. Secondly, they figured that Spot was the way to find me because he is the Key. Thirdly, they must be organized to have almost pulled off what they wanted to accomplish.' She spent some time reviewing what little she did know to find some type of connection between the attack and the weird feeling she got whenever she was away from a secure area.
The glint of metal pulled Alyssa put of her ponderings. From beside a smashed crate she found a pair of brass knuckles. Just like Morris Delancey's. Beside them, she found a pin, Celtic in design, which had a slash mark running along it. Things were now starting to make sense. The Delancey's were involved, that was for sure. They were probably acting as informants to who ever was leading this escapade. They would know about Alyssa and her connection to the Newsies. Also, Alyssa figured that the pin must belong to the guy she had slashed across the chest. Now that she thought about it, she remembered that the man had a thick Irish accent.
Before she could figure any more out, a hand came up behind her and covered her mouth. Her struggles were in vain, for many strong men came and held her down so she could be bound. Also, the previous night's fight had left her exhausted. A cloth was pressed over her nose, and Alyssa blacked out.
10.10.10
All day, everyone kept an eye out for Alyssa. Manhattan Newsies were everywhere, talking with other Newsies for any sign of her. A feeling of dread hung over New York's Newsie community like a dark thunderstorm. Not just over Alyssa, who always showed kindness to any Newsie that she met, but also for Spot, who was still lying in Alyssa's room recovering. It was uncertain as to whether or not a Newsie group was behind it or not, so everyone was lying low.
The night was far from arriving, making Race even more worried. He spent the better half of the day at the tracks, drowning himself in some cheap beer. When the beer did not have the desired affect, Race took to scouring the streets.
Many would say that the Newsies' paranoia over Alyssa was uncalled for. Normally, those people would have been right. But, considering that there were numerous Newsies and only one Alyssa Cambell, someone would have seen her. Unfortunately, no one had, which was the disturbing thing.
The Manhattan Newsies were holding an impromptu meeting at Horace Greeley's statue.
"I don' like dis. Not a single Newsie in New Yawk's seen 'er." As he spoke, Jack nervously fidgeted with his bandana.
Blink stood, clenching and unclenching his fists, looking as though he was ready to beat the shit out of Greeley's statue just for the hell of things. Mush kept a tight hold on Blink's belt to prevent such an incident.
Race was muttering to himself and furiously puffing his cigar. Jack leaned forward and snatched the cigar. After weathering a murderous glare from Race, he began to take long drags.
Mush had a sudden burst of inspiration. "Jack, do ya know where Alys was gonna head?"
"Snipeshooter's dere now. Dis is all my fault. I should a nevah listened ta Mercy."
David looked at Jack. How could Jack, the master of following his own impulses, criticize Alyssa? "You know that Alyssa can take care of herself."
Before Jack could answer, Race stepped forward. "Yous know full well Jack, dat Alys would nevah leave us willin'ly." He slipped his hand into his pocket to finger the necklace her had given her at Christmas. He had found it carefully placed on the little table next to his bunk.
"C'mon Jack," Blink said. "Stop blamin' yerself."
With that, the little meeting ended. The Newsies still had to endure a few more painful hours before night fell.
10.10.10
Alyssa awoke in a small, dark room that smelled strongly of old beer, vomit, and blood. She had a pounding headache and her wrists were raw from the binding around them. Vaguely, Alyssa could remember being jumped at the alley by Tibby's.
The sound of a door being opened caused Alyssa to jump. She was seized roughly and made to stand upright. "I hope you are enjoying your accommodations," a silky voice crooned.
"Actually, I've stayed in jails dat are bettah den dis dump." Alyssa's few months with the Newsies had taught her quite a bit. Including how to think quickly on her feet. Not that she had not been able to do that before; her time had refined those skills.
A rough hand slapped her across the face. "Cheeky one, aren't you?"
"I try."
"Now, enough of these games. I am here to ask you a few questions." A satin glove seized her chin, forcing her head up. In the darkness, Alyssa could not see anything. "First, what is your name?"
Alyssa thought for a moment. She knew not to say anything that would endanger herself or her friends. So, she did what every Newsie did and improved the truth. "Alley."
"Well, Alley. Is that your real name?"
"Its da only name I's been usin' fer me whole life."
"Hum. Interesting." The silky voice paused for a moment. "Tell me, that boy you saved in the alley, some call him the Key. What is his name?"
"Him?" Alyssa's voice raised to show that she was 'surprised that this person did not know. "Dat's Cane."
Again, another pause from the man holding her chin. "How do you know him?"
"He's a friend a mine. Sometimes we sell papes together."
"Tell me, what do you know about Alyssa Cambell?"
Now they were heading down a dangerous path. "Who's Alyssa. Cambell, did you say?"
"She happens to be an Irish girl about your age who is now living in New York. I believe she's living with Newsies. The two of you look slightly similar. Granted she would be cleaner and her hair would only reach her shoulders." The silky voice had gone slightly reminiscent, remembering Alyssa.
"Sorry, mister. Nevah hoid a 'er afore. Ta my knowledge, dere's no goils livin' wid Newsies. I's da only goil Newsie an' I's livin' on da streets. Be lucky if I's evah get a roof over me head. Ya get awful sick livin' in alleys in da Wintah." Alyssa's speech copied Race's in the way that she pronounced things and the general tone of it. It was kind of funny, but then made her realize how much she missed him.
Now, this man was starting to get rather annoyed with Alyssa. He gripped Alyssa's chin tightly. "Where did you take that boy?" he demanded.
"To da alley he lives in."
"Miss Alley. Do you know how important it is that we find Miss Alyssa Cambell?"
"Can't say dat I do. Why? She a old friend a yers?" Now it was her turn to try and get some information out of her captor. This would not be easy considering that she was not supposed to know anything about herself.
That silky voice suddenly became a hauntingly familiar one as he began to answer her question. "I was supposed to marry the lass when she came of age. Her flight from Ireland a few years ago was most unfortunate. Her father, Patrick Cambell, the man holding you upright, is most anxious to seer her again."
Patrick Cambell then spoke in a heavy Irish brogue. "My daughter is that last thing I have. It's important that I find her."
The man holding her chin spoke again. "We will be back later to see if you are more willing to speak. In the meantime, rest up so you will be able to endure the next session."
Alyssa was released and fell hard to the floor. Now she knew that she really had to get out of wherever she was. With her father there, her lies would soon be found out. She pulled at her bonds and tried to work them loose. The only trouble with trying to escape it's awfully hard to do when your hands and feet are bound. Alyssa spent the next few minutes forcing her eyes to focus in the darkness.
A small line of light soon caught her eye. Pulling herself up, Alyssa somehow managed to get over to it. Her hands, bound in front of her, reached up. That small line of light was a boarded up window. A loose nail provided the means of cutting the bonds. Once those were off, she pulled off the binding around her ankles.
A noise just outside the door stopped Alyssa in her tracks.
"What's da boss doin' wit dis one?"
"I dunno. Obviously, she mus' be real important if she's kept here."
"Yeah, real important. in solitary!"
The two voices sniggered and then moved on down the hall.
'So, I'm in solitary. Great. Dat means I's all da way at da bottom a dis wondahful place.' After making sure that the two men were gone, Alyssa went back to work breaking off the slats over the window. Once the window was open, she hoisted herself out. Alyssa found that her 'window' led to a long dark tunnel that smelled just as bad, and perhaps even worse that her cell. Taking a few steps forward, she learned that she was in the sewers. She stared blankly at both directions while trying not to get sick from the smell. When she gained control of herself, she went left. Slowly, she waded through the muck. What seemed like forever passed before she heard the sounds of other people.
"Why do we's gotta be da ones who make da routine search of a sewer?"
"We happen ta be da lucky ones, I guess."
Alyssa hid in a nook while Morris and Oscar Delancey passed by.
Great. Just the two people I want to see.
Tired, sore and just over all feeling like complete shit, Alyssa raced down the pipe. Finally, the godsend that she had been looking for appeared. Climbing up a utility ladder, Alyssa shoved off the cover and came up on a street corner.
Night had fallen, so Alyssa could not immediately tell were she was. After adjusting to the dark, she realized that she was in Brooklyn. Logic told her that she had been held in Brooklyn and that she had traveled the Brooklyn sewer system. Not wanting to ask the Brooklyn boys to keep her for the night, Alyssa bolted down the streets of Brooklyn. She ran across the Brooklyn Bridge, unaware of the spectacular sight of full moon reflecting on the water. Just to make sure that she was not being followed, Alyssa ran through the alleys of Harlem, the Bronx, Queens and Midtown. Finally, she reached home in Manhattan.
Standing and facing the Lodging House, Alyssa realized that she had gone all day without a coat and that it was freezing. She walked to the door and pounded on it.
Kloppman answered and the first thing that he did was wrap Alyssa in a blanket. He then proceeded to give her a warm fatherly hug. Wordlessly, Kloppman led Alyssa up to the second floor where everyone was sitting, not really knowing what to do.
Race sat in a corner, cigar in his mouth and a beer in his hand. There was a solitaire game in front of him that he was not really concentrating on. Jack sat nearby, idly flipping through an old newspaper. Everyone else just sat around, not knowing what to do with themselves.
"Boys," Kloppman said softly. "Yer sister is home."
For a moment, nobody moved. Then they all surged forward. A frenzy of questions were thrown at Alyssa. Mush was drowning her in kisses while Jack, David, and Blink all gave her brotherly kisses on her forehead.
Kloppman decided to take action. "Would ya let her breathe?!"
Sheepishly, every Newsie pulled away, except Les who was still firmly clamped around her waist.
"So, where ya been?" Mercy quipped.
Jack sent her a glare, but said nothing. It was kind of annoying that Mercy was Alyssa's best friend. They were always so forward with each other.
Sarcastically, Alyssa replied, "I just spent my entire day in da woilds's finest sewer."
Sarah's nose wrinkled in disgust.
"Race, Alyssa's been spendin' way too much time witchou," Blink said. "She's startin' ta sound like yous."
"Just wait," Alyssa said. "It gets worse." She began to tell them everything that happened. She reenacted the conversation quite well, though leaving out some of the parts that would cause worry. Hopefully, nothing would come of this little escapade and those details would not have to be said.
After the story, the rosy smell that Alyssa was giving off could no longer be ignored. "Yer getting' ta smell like Blink." Specs stopped saying anything before Blink wised up to what was being said.
"Come," Mercy said as she firmly grasped Alyssa by the arm.
They went into the washroom because Spot was still occupying Alyssa's room. 'Stupid git gets all the special treatment.' Alyssa malevolent thought was common; she was not really fond of the awed kingly treatment that Spot got twenty-four seven. Mercy barricaded the washroom so no one could come in.
Skittery had been slowly following behind.
Stupid little dirty sexpot.
"Ya look like hell. Wha'd dey do ta ya?"
"Nothin' special. Few punches, kicks beatin's wit a club, da usual." Alyssa eased her sore body into the steaming tub. "How crazy were dese guys?'
Mercy laughed. "Dey had every Newsie in New Yawk lookin' fer ya. Dey tink dat yous can't take care a yerself."
"They always will." They talked a bit more before Alyssa grabbed the towel and got put of the tub. Pulling on a nightgown, she stifled a yawn. "Wha' I really need right now is sleep."
"Den off ta bed witchou." Mercy made a shooing motion at her friend's back.
After saying goodnight to everyone, Alyssa climbed the stairs to the bunkroom. She crawled into Race's bunk and the minute her head hit the pillow she was fast asleep.
The Newsies came up a while later, allowing Alyssa to get to sleep before they came up. One by one, they too fell asleep until only Race was awake. He sat on the edge of the bunk and looked at Alyssa.
She puzzled him to no end. They had both promised to keep their relationship secret, but if it was possible, Alyssa barely seemed to recognize him. Race was not about to let it bother him though. The past is something that just does not disappear. It dictates how you lead your future. Race gave Alyssa's cheek a kiss before he crawled into the bunk above her.
10.10.10
A guard cautiously walked towards the figure seated before him. "Lord Liam, the girl prisoner has escaped."
The seated figure, Lord Liam, spoke with his eerie silky voice. "How long has she been gone?"
"No one knows milord. Shall I comprise a search party?"
"That won't be necessary. I'm most positive that we will be seeing her again." Lord Liam was almost positive that 'Alley' was Alyssa Cambell. With careful planning, he would be able to finally have what was rightfully his. Her brothers would play an important role in making his plan succeed. The Newsies would be a problem though. But then again, Oscar and Morris Delancey had said that they had connections that were wiling to help - for a price. All he could do now was wait for the perfect moment to strike.