Author note: Here's this chapter…
I helped Splinter and the other boys search for pebbles. I found about twenty-five. Art soon came over to me.
"Heya! How many did youse find?" he asked, smiling.
"Twenty-five," I told him.
"Good, we is gonna need as many as we can." I smiled back at him, causing his cheeks to turn a scarlet red.
"So, Spot ain't gonna let youse come with us?" he asked, trying to spring up a conversation.
"No," I replied.
"Good, da last thing we is gonna want is for youse to get hoit," Art said, looking me in the eyes. I shrugged, and continued to pick up pebbles. By the end I had lost count, but I had gathered a lot. I gave them to Spot, who thanked me.
We were now in the Manhattan Lodging House, all the boys getting ready for the fight. I sat in a chair, watching Race win a game of poker against a couple of other boys. Somebody then sat down in the chair beside me.
"Hey, Sage," Scout greeted me. I smiled,
"Hey."
"So, tell me somethin. Can ya fight?" I glanced at her,
"Yeah," I answered truthfully answered. I had told Spot that I couldn't back on the docks when I nearly drowned. I can up with: "I just got lucky." The truth was I was a fair fighter. I learned from a friend of my uncles. He was a sweet man, unlike my good for nothing, lying uncle. He taught me how to fight, but left out the defending part. I wasn't the best, but I knew a few tricks here and there.
"Does Spot know youse can?" Scout asked me. I shrugged,
"Probably, I dunno."
"Well, if youse ask me, I think you should come with us." I looked at her. She was grinning now.
"I hate it when Spot thinks that goils can't fight," she said, fumbling with her fingers. She tucked a loose strand of hair under her hat as Jack and Spot entered the room.
"So, Scout, are youse comin?" Jack asked. Scout stood to her feet and looked up at Jack,
"Heck yeah!" she said. Jack grinned and looked over at the boys playing poker.
"C'mon, boys. We is gonna go meet up with Harlem." The boys rose from the table and walked out the door. Scout winked at me before disappearing. Spot turned to me and stuck his cane in his belt loop.
"We'll be back, okay?" I nodded and watched him walk towards the door, then turned back to me,
"If we ain't back by mornin, den go back t'Brooklyn and tell dem dat Spot needs 'em." He then left, shutting the door gently behind him. I looked at the spot where he had once stood. Was Scout trying to tell me to come too…I shook my head.
It was getting a little late, and I was deadly bored. There wasn't anybody to talk to. I sighed and looked out the window. The moon was staring at me, making me frown. The sight reminded me of the dungeon, when I had watched the moon every night. I took it to be about 11:00 p.m. Spot told me to go get help if he wasn't back by morning…did he mean at 12:00 a.m. Technically that was morning.
I grabbed a book off of the shelf and began to read it. Well, what do you know, it was a dictionary.
"Fascinating," I said to myself. I slammed the book closed and returned it back to the shelf. I sighed and waited for another hour. Okay, it was officially morning…what now? Should I go back to Brooklyn and get help? I sighed and walked out of the Lodging House. Maybe if I tried looking for them…
I began to walk the streets of Manhattan, looking for any sign of newsies. Everything seemed to be dead quiet. I came upon the statue we had stood at earlier, and leaned against it. I then heard footsteps. I turned around, but nobody was there. I cautiously began to back up.
I turned around, and came face-to-face with a boy. He laughed, and grabbed hold of my arms. I let out a scream as he clamped his hand over my mouth. He then began to drag me somewhere. He put his hand over my eyes, and his other on my mouth. I was tempted to bite him, but I was smarter than that.
I then began to hear yelling, and the sound of people fighting. He removed his hand from my eyes, and revealed a bunch of boys fighting. People were hitting each other, biting each other, and kicking each other. I spotted a few boys on top of a roof shooting small pebbles at people. I recognized one of them to be Splinter. I was dragged behind some other boys, out of sight.
The boy holding onto me laughed, and whispered in my ear,
"So, yer the one Spot brought to Manhattan." I squirmed under his grasp, and tried to scream. I only made a small muffled sound under his hand, and he tightened his grip.
"Shh, don't get too feisty. The names Troy." I watched the newsies fight, giving each other shiners or bloody lips. I then spotted Scout. She was being outnumbered. She lost her cabby hat, and her hair was a mess. She put her fists up and swung at one of the boys. He blocked it, and swung his fist at her. She ducked in time before it hit her.
I then saw Jack. He was punching away, hitting some, and earning hits from them. He didn't seem to notice Scout being tortured. I felt fear rise into me. Somebody help her! I thought. And, like he had read my thoughts, Spot appeared at Scout's side and whacked some of the guys upside the head with his cane. He continued this, until he was punched, causing his lip to bleed. He growled as his hat fell off his head, and threw a punch back at the guy.
Art was hitting some guy with a chain, laughing like a maniac. He soon stopped, and went for another guy. The guy saw him coming and screamed, running away. Art ran after him, screaming as well. The guy tripped and fell on his face as Art approached him. He raised his chain and began to beat the guy.
Splinter was now on the ground, fighting some guy who didn't even have a scratch. Splinter's lip was busted open, and his nose was bleeding. He had a shiner, and a few other scratches. I closed my eyes and tried not to look. I don't know why, but my eyes switched over to Spot. He was defending his cousin as much as he could, blocking the punches the boys were sending at her.
He looked furious. There was a small wound on his forehead; blood seeped down the side of his face. I tried with all my might to pull away from Troy, but he was much too strong. I then gathered up my courage and bit his hand, causing him to let go of my mouth and scream. My teeth marks were imprinted on his hand, and blood soon oozed out of it. His other arm was still fastened around my waist. He growled, and made me face him.
"Why you little," he pulled his hand back and struck me across the face. The side of my lip was now bleeding. I brought my hand up to my wound, and glared at the guy. I pulled away from him, and ran away. I heard him screaming, and I didn't get far. He tackled me to the ground and put my arms above my head so I wouldn't hit him. I squirmed underneath his heavy body. Can't…breathe…I closed my eyes and pulled my hands out of his grasp. This caught him off guard.
I slapped him, and pushed him off of me. I struggled to my feet, and he grabbed my ankle. Some other boys saw us fighting, and immediately recognized me. But, they weren't the Manhattan, or Brooklyn newsies. It was Harlem. One of them motioned for two of the others to go help Troy.
I kicked Troy's head, and he let go of my ankle. I was grabbed by the other two boys, and dragged right into the middle of the fight. Some people stopped to watch the strange girl struggle to get away.
Another Harlem boy walked over to us. I watched him look me over, as the other boys grabbed hold of my arms. The boy in front of me walked up, and got about an inch from my face.
"And what brings you here, doll face?" he asked. I could smell his breath and gagged. Before I could answer he brought his lips to mine, and I could taste the cigar he must've smoked earlier. I heard someone gasp, and I pulled away. I coughed, and tried to get the taste out of my mouth. I brought my knee up, and kneed him. He let out a scream, and the other boys let go of me. They ran off, and I felt someone wrap an arm around my waist and mouth. I tried to pull away, but heard a soft voice,
"Shh, its okay, it's just me," Spot whispered. I was relieved, and turned around, wrapping my arms around his neck. He hesitantly hugged me back. I felt like crying, but I didn't have time. Spot pulled away and pushed me, just as a guy attacked him. Spot jumped back to avoid the club, and held up his fists. He grabbed hold of the club and punched the guy square in the nose. I heard a small crack, and knew that the guy's nose was broke.
He let out a painful cry, and brought his hand up to his nose, tears falling from his eyes. Spot ran over to me,
"Get outta here," he demanded, standing protectively in front of me. I looked around at everyone. They didn't seem to care that Spot stopped fighting. I looked up at him to see all of his wounds and bruises. I shook my head,
"I'm not leaving," I told him.
"Now is not the time to be stubborn, now go!" I felt a little uneasy, but stood my ground.
"What about you?"
"I'll be fine, now go. Go back to Brooklyn and get help." I nodded, and turned to leave, but Spot grabbed my arm,
"Trust no one," he told me. He then let go and I ran. I ran for what seemed like ages until I came upon the Brooklyn Bridge. I didn't stop running. The Brooklyn Lodging House soon came into view and I sped up. I burst through the doors to find nobody around. I ran up to the boy's room, and pulled open the door.
I turned the lights and, and many of the boy's groaned. I took a deep breath,
"Wake up, you idiots! Spot needs your help!" I ran to each bunk and shook every boy, trying my best to wake them. They began to get out of their bunks, and pulled on their clothes.
"Where are dey?" the one who was in charge for the time being asked me.
"They're in Manhattan, I don't know where at exactly, but somewhere near that huge man statue," I said, trying to catch my breath. I leaned against the wall. The boys grabbed their weapons and filed out of the room, and I followed. The one in charge, who I knew to be Dynamite, turned to me.
"Youse stay here and get cleaned up." And with that said the boys left. I didn't feel like putting up a fight, so I walked back to the girl's room and washed up. I changed my outfit and wiped away the blood from my mouth. I closed my eyes as I remembered all of my friends being hurt. I remembered Scout being outnumbered, I remembered Jack being hit and I remember Splinter being hurt. But most of all I remember the fear in Spot's eyes when he told me to go get help, and the worry in his voice. I can still see the blood rushing down his face and the others being beat.
I closed my eyes to try and forget about it, but it stayed. I went back into my room and stared out the window. How do I know the other Brooklynites can bring Spot and the others back safe? How do I know that the Manhattan newsies will be alive in the morning? If only I could do something…something to help them.
But I couldn't. All I could do was pray. Pray for my friends to be safe. I closed my eyes and didn't even attempt to hold back my tears. I felt somber. I wiped away my tears and watched the moon. It too was crying. I could feel its sadness, and I reached out to sooth it. But nothing happen. I brought my hand to my lap, and watched the darkness. I mocked me, making me want to scream. I felt as if I was still in the dungeon, and for a second there I believe that I was.
Maybe all of this was a dream. Maybe I was still asleep in my small cell, and I had never met any of the newsies. I wanted to wake up, but then again I wanted to keep dreaming. I needed to know if my friends were okay, if Spot was okay. Even if it was a dream, I didn't want it to end with me knowing that everyone died.
I quietly went back to my bed, and closed my eyes…drifting off into a nightmare.