The only ones on the street when Jack stepped out of the lodging house were a few dawdling factory workers and a street sweeper. But the sky was clear and the air was much warmer than the night before, Jack smiled, that meant good selling.
The walk to the distribution offices was pleasant. Mush provided a few entertaining, although obviously fabricated, stories about various evening exploits with the opposite sex. If anyone noticed Race was missing, they weren't questioning it. Race was known to disappear for days at a time. In fact, Jack had toyed with the idea that this incident was just another one of Race's vanishing acts. But Race had never deliberately told someone to wait up for him if he had no intention of coming back. And the way Blink told it, that's exactly what Race had done.
As the ragtag group neared the distribution offices, Jack peered over the wrought iron gate at the large chalkboard. 'Opium Parlor Disbanded In Violent Police Shake Down'. Jack had seen better, but the word "violent" was promising. With a few well chosen synonyms he could easily shape it into the scandal of the year.
The gates opened with a reluctant groan and the newsies poured in. Jack secured his customary front spot in line. Weasel was late again, giving him some time to check out who was in line and who shouldn't be. If good selling spots were hard to come by these days, making sure there were enough papes for everyone to get by was just as hard. The last thing Jack needed was for some little scab from another territory horning in on Manhattan's stock. However, the only thing unusual about today's line up was the fact that Blink and Mush weren't in it. But the familiar sound of Weasel's heavy breathing brought Jack back to the task at hand before he could dwell on it for too long.
"A'hundred papes, Weasel," Jack smiled. The large man behind the window didn't answer with anything more than a withering look.
"A'hundred papes," he shouted to the boys in the back, "I notice you're a few boys short today, Cowboy. What? Did they run away to find a better leader?" Weasel sneered unpleasantly.
Jack tossed a penny up into the air and caught it, "And miss one o' these pleasant pre-dawn chats?" He tossed the penny again, "I don't think so. Besides-"
"Holy fucking shit!" Jack was interrupted by Mush's choked cry. Hurriedly, he dumped his fee onto the counter and grabbed his papes from Weasel. Slinging them over his shoulder, he ran to see what Mush had discovered, although he already had a hunch. Race had to show up sooner or later.
Blink was standing next to Mush near an alley's entrance and a small crowd was quickly forming. Jack pushed his way through to front. What he saw made him feel vaguely sick. Blink was silent and Mush was babbling out an explanation.
"Blink jus' wanted to look around for Race, ya know? See if we could find any sign o' him. An', well, we found some blood on the sidewalk and it led here…" Mush trailed off. There was no point explaining the rest.
Jack slowly approached the body. His hunch was right. It was Racetrack and he had definitely looked better. His shirt was ripped and covered in dirt and dried blood. His knuckles were a mess, Jack noted, he must have really put up a fight. But the worst of his wounds were on his face. The boy was barely recognizable underneath the swelling and blood. With a cut above his eye and a bruise running up the whole left side of his head, Jack would have thought he was dead if it wasn't for the labored rising and falling of his chest.
"Jesus…" Jack murmured. He stared for a moment more. He'd seen friends beat up before, sure. It was common occurrence, especially for Race. Suddenly, Jack found himself getting angry. He had a rule about curfew for a reason and then Race refused to listen to him, so stuff like this would happen. He was probably walking back from that poker game, drunk and oblivious, with the wages of six other men in his pocket. Hell, he probably had it out in the open for any thug or mugger to see.
Conversation had begun to break out behind him. Most of them from homeless kids who didn't know Race as anything more than a passing acquaintance. I guess some of them had played cards with him before and were mumbling how he deserved what ever he got. One doesn't get as good at cards as Race without a few sore losers raising questions about your integrity. Jack took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm his rising temper at both Race and the situation and then stood and turned to face the onlookers.
"Look there's nothin' ta see here! Jus' go and sell your papes! I know this ain't the first kid you've ever seen wit' a bloody nose!" He shouted at the crowd. His words came out nastier than he intended, but they did the trick and the group quickly began dissolving into separate groups or individuals, the spectacle of a fight not as alluring if the only thing left was a broken body. Only a few stragglers remained. Most of them veterans of the lodging house or people who had played cards with Race often and not minded losing to him.
"How is he, Jack?" Skittery asked from the back of the group. A few others echoed the sentiment. Race was well respected as a good friend to the people he trusted. And over the years the list of those people had grown. Jack had been on the list from day one.
"He'll be alrigh'," Jack said reassuringly, more for the sake of the littler kids than anything else. Snipes in particular, he looked white as a sheet.
"I don't think he's gonna be walkin' anywheres though," Jack continued. He glanced from Race to the onlookers, "Look, if any of ya can afford it I could really use some help getting' him back." As soon as he uttered the words various excuses and apologies rose from the group, blending into a guilty cacophony. But through that, a few boys stepped forward, among them Blink, Mush, Skittery and Snipeshooter. Jack had been wary about letting the last and youngest to volunteer actually come along. Snipes was small and not exactly strong, but the boy wouldn't be dissuaded. After the rest of the crowd had gone off shouting and brandishing their papers like swords, the five of them crowded around Race and gently lifted him. The Italian groaned slightly at being jostled, but the noise was reassuring. Mush even cracked a smile.
After carrying him a few blocks, Skittery laughed suddenly. Jack looked at him coldly. His anger over the whole affair no where near gone.
"What's so funny?" Blink asked with a hint of irritation.
"I was jus' thinkin' how this kid always gets off lucky, that's all," Skitts chuckled ironically. The rest of the boys just furrowed their brows in confusion.
"I don't see how dats so, Skitts," Jack said darkly. Skitts didn't seem to notice Jack's fowl mood.
"I'm just sayin', once he heals up an' all, he's gonna be a rich man. Nun's can't resist a kid wit' a black eye."
Wow, I'm kind of on a role here. Thank you so much for all your kind reviews! They really urged me to update quickly! So thank you!
Next: Race finally wakes up. And Blink talks to Jack about Snipes odd behavior.