Morning broke, slow and cool, to find Penny and Skittery perched on the rooftop of the lodging house, overlooking the dirty Manhattan streets. It was silent in these early hours but for the odd bird and occasional swish of a broom as the shopkeepers prepared to open for the day. The teenagers had been up the entire night discussing the previous day's events and the repercussions rapidly heading their way.
"Jack wants Elise and me to move to Brooklyn," Penny said for the hundredth time with a sigh.
"Well, there's a girls' lodgin' house there... Those McKennon fellas'll be hard-pressed to get in there after you." Skittery's head hung limply between his shoulders, partly from physical exhaustion and partly from emotional. "They'll be good to ya in Brooklyn, though."
"I don't know anyone in Brooklyn... just that one boy, what's his name... Speck."
"Spot. Spot Conlon."
"Sure, whatever. And he just seems to be a shorter, pushier, more arrogant version of Jack."
"That's why he's the leader in that borough." Skittery sighed, feeling as though the topic had been beaten into the ground. "There's lots of Irish immigrants in Brooklyn, anyway. You'll feel more at home."
"I already feel at home here."
"Yeah, well, that doesn't seem to be Jack's concern anymore." He raised his head, weary brown eyes meeting fiery green. "Look, Penny, there ain't much I or anybody else can do to change things. Once the Cowboy's made up his mind about somethin', there's no lookin' back."
"What about work? We can't go tromping around the streets selling papers, and there's no possible way we could walk back and forth between Manhattan and Brooklyn every day, especially not Elise." Penny scrubbed her hands roughly over her face, grumbling through them with fatigue and temper. "We can't afford to stay in the lodging house without working, and Elise is going to be laid up pretty soon here..." She trailed off, shaking her head at the thought.
"Miz Tibby said she's got a friend what owns a clothing place... needs some girls to sew and whatnot, and she's willin' to hire the two o' you."
"I want to go home." Her voice came out in a temperamental whine, reminiscent of a small child.
"Everything'll turn out okay."
"Bollocks." As she spat out the word, she stood up and stormed down the fire escape, leaving Skittery to ponder his own place in the messy knot of trouble he'd gotten himself into.
The day passed at a turtle's pace, with the smelly, sticky heat of summer futilely battling the bite of the fast-approaching autumn. The weather induced a kind of lethargy in anyone who dared to step foot outside their front door, and so the newsboys sold their papers as quickly as they could manage, hoping to get back to the lodging house for a little late-afternoon shut-eye. Even the unstoppable Racetrack was spent after a half-hearted trip out to Sheepshead Bay, and was now lazily shuffling cards in his bunk as he stood sentry over Penny and Elise while Jack was meeting with Spot Conlon.
"Brooklyn ain't nothin' like Manhattan," he mused gruffly, half to himself and half to the girls sitting in the next bunk over. "It's rougher an' tougher an' it smells like fish all'a time... but I bet you'll like it there. And I don't bet on nothin' that ain't a sure thing."
"It's not home, and we don't know anybody there." Penny stabbed her needle bad-temperedly through the shirt she was mending, taking out her frustrations on the available fabric. "What's to like?"
"Hey, those fellas always take care of their own," Racetrack replied, chewing on the end of an unlit cigar, "even if it is a couple'a sour-puss dames like ya'selves."
Penny scoffed at the remark, and simply stuck her tongue out at him before returning to her sewing.
"That's exactly what I'm talkin' about." And with a grin, he dealt himself a hand of solitaire.
A/N: This chapter is far shorter than I originally intended, but I decided to end it with Racetrack being a smartass, and it feels more complete that way. The rest of my intended goings-on will have to appear in the next chapter. It seems like a big development from the last chapter, but Jack was just talking too much and was beginning to get on my nerves so I had to shut him up and get back to my beloved main characters. Expect more drama and whatnot in the next chapter (and someone PLEASE tell me to stop using the word "whatnot" PLEASE!). Also, I could use a few rough-and-tumble female OCs for the Brooklyn lady-newsies, if you should feel so inclined to loan me some, if not, I can make a few up. They won't be particularly significant, but they'll be there to provide some comic relief and, for some, to be antagonists. Anyhow, R&R, thanks in advance! -Layne