"Hey, kid!"
The boy continued reading the newspaper, searching for headlines.
"Kid, get his attention."
Blink grinned. "Will do, Jack." He walked over and tapped him on the shoulder. The kid turned around, a solicitous smile on his face, but as soon as he saw Blink, his fist swing. Blink ducked, and as he came up his own fist wielded a haymaker. The boy also ducked, and the two boys became locked in a battle of wit and will.
Jack looked on in surprise. "Pretty scrawny kid," he muttered to Racetrack.
"Odds are definitely not in 'is fava." Race anxiously rubbed his hands together.
With a twist of his arms, a flick of his wrist, and a small grunt, the boy landed Blink on his back. Blink looked up in surprise. A hand was thrust in his face.
"Hey, Blink. The name's Turtle."
Blink took the hand. "Turtle. That's a weird name." He turned, then stopped. As he turned around, a quizzical look covered his features. "Hey, how did ya know me name?"
Turtle shrugged. Blink sighed, then motioned for him to come along. "Jack'll wanna meet you," he threw over his shoulder.
The boy trotted after.
Jack stood with his arms crossed over his chest, the early afternoon sun striking him in the face. "Pretty good fight ya put up dere, kid."
"Hi. The name's Turtle."
Jack blinked. Uncrossing his arms, he spit into his hand. Turtle took it. Jack recrossed his arms. "So, why'd ya land in 'Hatten?"
Turtle shrugged. "Cuz that's the way it 'appened."
Jack studied him with a squinted eye and a slightly pursed lip. Finally he took a breath. "So how long'll ya be stayin' in dis fine area?" A few chuckles came from behind him. Jack grinned with them.
"Long as I hafta."
"Youse pretty vague fo' a newcoma, kid. See, I'm da leada heah," Jack leaned forward and poked Turtle in the chest, "and I ask da questions. I expect ansas."
Turtle defiantly bored a hole in the taller boy's eyes. "Ya got ansas. Jist not da ones ya wanted. So I'll be off. Run inta ya later, eh?"
The boy turned around a corner. The newsies looked at Jack, who shrugged. "Don't soak 'em." He turned around. "Bring 'im ta me if he's causin' trouble."
A nod was passed along the group and they dispersed to their usual activities.
- - - - - - - -
"Don't! Stop it! Leave him alone!" A woman's cry entered Jack's ears. He turned towards the sound to find an older man beating a young man in his early twenties with a wooden cane. Jack ran onto the scene and knocked the older man out. The woman sobbed. "Thank you! Oh thank you for saving my husband! Papa…" her voice trailed off.
Jack nodded, an understanding look on his face. "You need some 'elp gitin' 'im home?"
The woman stood up. "Yes. That would be appreciated. Thank you." She rubbed a sleeve under her nose.
Jack heaved the body into his arms. "Where do ya live?"
She pointed. "Just around the block. Thank you again." They headed up the street; the woman chatting amiably while Jack nodded and smiled at her.
Before they left the alley, the old man lifted an eyelid and caught one glimpse of his daughter's rescuer.
- - - - - - - -
Jack wandered back to the house after dark. His lit cigarette hung from his fingers limply. It had been a tiring day, rescuing damsels in distress, terrorizing newcomers, running from the bulls—again. He rounded the corner.
"You thought you could pull one over on me, eh, little cowboy?" The old man stood under the lamppost, the light accentuating his silvery hair. His eyes were bloodshot and angry. "You messed with the wrong man, cowboy."
As he spoke, his leg swung upward. Jack caught it against his chest. The man swore and kicked his other leg behind Jack's knees. Jack fell to the ground, the two men pinning each other. Jack got up first.
"Quit while you're ahead, old man."
He turned away. The old man on the ground swore, then got to his feet and charged at Jack. He turned at the footsteps, but didn't hear a thing after that.
A small figure stepped up behind the old man beating the teenager in the lamplight. The old cane raised above the aging head dropped. The man toppled to the ground, landing on the sidewalk with a thud.
"Good woik, kid." An officer came from behind the kid. The boy continued to stare at the decrepit body lying on the ground. The officer tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around.
"I saw whatcha did." The boy looked frightened, and backed up. The officer held up a hand. "Hey, I saw da whole thing. I was 'bouts ta come ova and arrest da guy. Ya made my job that much easier." He leaned down to pick up the newsboy's hat, and handed it to the boy, who gingerly took it.
"Yeah." He tugged it over his curly black mop. "Ya welcome."
The police officer cuffed the old man, then picked up Jack. "Heah's ya friend. Betta get 'im home."
The boy nodded then took Jack's body from the officer. He hefted it over his shoulder, and easily strode down the sidewalk. The officer shook his head at the odd pair, then nudged the awakening man with his toe.
The old man groaned.
"You have the roight ta remain silent."
- - - - - - - -
"What happened, kid?" Kloppman burst out of the front door and hurriedly took Jack's body from the boy. The boy stepped back.
"Got in a unfair fight. He'll be ok."
Kloppman glanced at the boy skeptically, then motioned for him to follow him. "C'mon. Stay wit da boys an' tell 'em what happened. I gotta take care o' Jack." The boy paused. Kloppman turned back around. "Come on! I need your help!" The boy nodded.
The old man set a hand on the shorter boy's shoulder. "Go upstairs and tell the boys what happened. Second door on the right. Got it?" The boy nodded. Kloppman slapped the shoulder. "Go."
The boy cracked the door. Newsboys around the room poked their heads up. The boy cautiously entered the room. Blink got up from his bunk and swaggered toward the boy. "So, Turtle, whatcha doin' here?"
Turtle shrugged. "Brought Jack home. He got in a fight."
Blink turned serious. "Bad fight?"
Turtle shrugged again, Blink noticed the habit. "Only unconscious. The old man's in jail now."
Blink twirled his cigarette. "Where'd Kloppman take 'im?"
"Jist in a small room downstairs."
Blink nodded. "He'll be ok. How old are ya, kid?"
"I say fourteen when they ask."
Blink took a puff from his cigarette. "Where ya from?"
"Far ways from here. I gotta get goin'. I'll see ya'll lata." Turtle turned around and moved toward the door.
"Hey, wait!"
The door slammed behind Turtle. Blink sat back on his bunk, pondering each puff of smoke from his mouth.
- - - - - - - -
The next day, Turtle again was looking through the headlines. Blink was down the street, contemplating his selling spot, when he saw him. He thought about Jack.
Jack was still in bed, conscious and wanting to work. Kloppman had lay his foot down and told him to "stay in bed, ya whipper-snapper, er I'll kick ya out." He walked off, muttering. "Neva saw a young man so eager ta work as dat kid."
Blink yelled at the boy. "Hey! Turtle!"
Turtle moved off around the corner. Blink scratched his head, then turned to a young couple waving a nickel in his face.
Turtle moved into the dark interior of the Lodging House, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. He silently moved to Jack's room, and quietly kneeled by his bed.
Jack stirred, his head flopping to the side. He opened his eyes. "Wha…"
As soon as he opened his mouth, Turtle looked up, saw Jack awake, and fled. Jack closed his eyes again and drifted off.
- - - - - - - -
Jack woke again late that night. A lantern dimly glowed on the nightstand. He rolled to a sitting position in one swift motion. He rubbed the back of his head, wincing when he hit an open welt, skillfully stitched together. He squinted.
In front of him, Turtle was fighting imaginary foes. Or so he thought. As Jack watched in stupefaction, the shadows seemed to be attacking Turtle. He shook his head and dismissed it as a dream. He rolled back to a lying position and closed his eyes.
"Jack! Jack, wake up! Kloppman said ya could woik taday!"
Jack squinted in the morning sunlight. He blinked to reveal a harried Turtle shaking him awake. "You…you was in me room last night."
Turtle shrugged. "Yeah. Here's some clothes. I'll see ya lata."
Jack turned around and started stepping into the clothes. He turned back around. Turtle was gone. "Sneaky little fella."
- - - - - - - -
Turtle started to walk out of the house. Blink stopped him with a hand on his arm. "Ya want some wata? It's gonna get hot out there."
Turtle nodded. "Shu. Thanks."
Blink handed him a worn canteen. Turtle nodded again. "Thanks." He slung the strap over his shoulder and headed outside.
The nest morning Turtle wasn't at the distribution center. The newsboys didn't think anything of it. Except Blink and Jack.
- - - - - - - -
"Well done, good and faithful servant. You have done what I sent you to do."
- - - - - - - -
Hebrews 13:2 "Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it."
Rach le e mi caraid.