Disclaimer: No matter how much I wish I did, I do not own anyone from Newsies. They, and they movie, belong to Disney. Bah.
I squeezed my eyes shut, sliding my hands underneath my glasses to rub them.
This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't ever supposed to happen. These words reverberated inside my head. I had never even thought that it was a possibility that Kloppman wouldn't be around forever. I had never even thought that he would die. Which was, in a way, funny. I'd grown up on the streets; I dealt with death almost every day in one way or another. But all of that just kind of... slipped away in the Lodging House. I'd come home at night, and it would be loud, crazy, full of life.
Now that same place was anything but. I dropped my hands back into my lap and looked around at the tense, worried, and sad faces of all of my friends from my place leaning against the wall. A man who had been more or less a father to us all was lying in his bedroom. Dying.
Dying. Just thinking that word made me cringe, made an unbearablepain form inside of me. I could see the same grief in the eyes of the other boys. We'd taken him for granted. He had always been there for us, to protect us, to help us, to encourage us, to comfort us, to make us feel like there was at least one person who cared about us. And, much to our unhappiness, he was always there to wake us up in the morning.
He'd gotten a cold a few weeks back, but with his age and the cold weather, he just got worse. Last night he had collapsed behind the desk when I had been signing in. I won't ever forget that...
"Heya, Kloppy! How ya feelin'?" I asked, walking through the door of the Lodging House. "I hope you're feelin' better because we're having a little celebration at Tibby's tomorrow night for the six month anniversary since the strike. We'd all love if you came ta it."
Kloppman smiled. "I am feeling better, but I don't think I should be leaving the house anytime soon."
"We'll bring you home a sandwich or somethin', you-" I stopped midsentance as I felt a hand clap me on the back.
"Heya Specs."
"Hey, Race. Didya make a lot a money today at the tracks?"
"Five dollars," Race boasted proudly. "... Wait, why?"
I grinned. "Drinks on you tomorrow night." I grabbed the pen off the counter, preparing to scribble my name on the ledger sheet.
Racetrack laughed. "Only if you win any of it off me in poker tanight."
"Now, Race, you shouldn't use all that money on poker. I think you're losin' your touch. I noticed last night that you lost to a little cigar-stealer," Kloppman said. "Unless, of course, you did that on purpose..."
He frowned, leaning his arm on the counter and shifting towards him. "Ya know, Klopps, I think you see too much for your own good."
Kloppman smiled and winked at me before going back to adding up his finances. We both knew very well that Racetrack had actually let Snipeshooter win. He needed the money for the party at Tibby's (they'd decided to just all pay 15 cents instead of paying individually for their food) and wouldn't let any of the other newsboys pay for him. All the older boys knew he had let it happen, but Snipeshooter and some of the younger boys didn't realize that. Kloppman, along with the boys, enjoyed teasing him about how he wasn't as cold-hearted as he wanted people to think.
I slid my money towards him after I finished writing my name. "There ya go."
"Thank yo-" He broke off as he coughed, lifting his hand up to cover his mouth.
"Klopps, you need some water?" Race asked when he didn't stop coughing.
He shook his head. "I'm-" Cough. "Fine..."
"I'll get ya some anywa... KLOPPMAN!"
The two of us ran around the counter as Kloppman fell to the ground. I felt his wrinkled forehead and frowned."He needs help, Race! Feel his face." We looked at each other, our eyes mirroring the other's concern. His face was dry and hot.
"He needs a doctor."
The doctor had been checking in with Kloppman all day. He'd left an hour ago, saying there was nothing else he could do. He was dying, and there was no way to stop it.
The creak of a rusty hinge echoed throughout the room, and I looked towards Kloppman's bedroom to see Jack come out and close the door silently behind him. He turned around to face us and took a deep breath. "He's... He's gone."
I turned my head away, squeezing my eyes shut again.
But feeling tears welling up in them anyway.
Ahand fell onto my shoulder and I opened my eyes to look at Pie Eater, whowas next to my on the floor. Tears were falling down his face, too. We looked at each other for a second before hugging. We needed someone to share our grief with. All around the room, boys were crying silently and clinging to each other, lost. Who was going to take charge of the Lodging House?
Who was going to take care of us?
YAY ABRUBT ENDING! Review and let me know if I should write another chapter or just keep it as the One Shot.