alright, movin right along. i dunno when dutchy's birthday is, but he turned 10 some time, so yeah. seekin some more feedback here, let me know what you think. ive got a basic plot, but im open to suggestions.

Popi lost his job six months ago. Since then a lot has happened. Gran discovered that she had other relatives and moved to live with them. I don't think any of us were terribly upset to see her go. Popi's been looking for a job, but hasn't found one yet. Mama started working more and Ilya became a newsie, just for the morning edition though. Mama didn't like the idea of him working, even though he was definately old enough. I had turned 10, but the only thing she would let me do to help was odd jobs for people in the building. However, sometimes I snuck out and helped Spud sell papers. I was spending more time with him and starting to look at him like an older brother. One that I had never really seen in Ilya because we didn't really get along. I now woke up with the sun every morning, and somehow found that I had energy when I did so. As soon as there was light in our room, I got up and-having surrendered to Gran's will now that she was gone-put on the grey vest. It was just a simlpe thing, but it gave my life at least that one predictable thing. On this particular day it was over a white shirt with brown stripes. I put on my grey pants, very happy to let the suspenders hang down. If I had a hat, I'd've looked like a newsie. Except for maybe my hair. Before Gran left, she made me promise the keep it long. I agreed, only because it made things feel normal, and I liked that. Ilya was already gone when I got up, so I grabbed a piece of bread and headed out to sweep the stairs. When I got to the bottom, I heard something in the street and looked out to see what was happening. There was a huge mob of men fighting. No, not just men. I pushed my gold-rimmed glasses up a little and moved closer. There were newsies in the fight too. A few small crowds were gathered to watch, and I spotted Spud among them. It was strange, normally the newsies would cheer or boo or place bets on fights, but they all seemed strange now. They seemed scared. Spud looked worried when I appeared at his side.

"I think yeh should go back inside kid."

"No, I finished the stairs. What's going on?" He glanced at the fight and back at me.

"A couple a da newsies stole somethin an da guy got real mad 'bout it. Called over a bunch o' his buddies." He grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me out of the way of someone who was pushed towards me. "Listen Ivan, yer pop was walkin' by an saw Freeze and dem gettin messed up. Him an some otha fellas jumped in ta help." I stared at him. Popi? In a fight? We stood there and watched until finally, there came the sound of whistles and hoofbeats. The mob disapeared, except for a few people that lay still in the street. People who had fallen and were lost beneath the others' feet. Spud's hand was still on my shoulder and I felt his grip tighten. I looked up at him. He was staring at something, so I followed his gaze.

"No!" I tried to run forward, but he held me back. "No! Let go! Popi!" He was laying among the others, his face and blonde hair covered in blood. "Lemme go, lemme go!"

"Jus let da bulls an dem handle it. Dey'll take care of 'im." I kept fighting with him until I saw someone stop to help Popi. Then I just froze. I didn't know what else to do. I ran a hand through my hair. "He'll be alright." I looked up and saw the same worry and fear that I felt. Spud wasn't necesarily close to him, but Popi supported him, and had bought lunch for him and the others a few times. I hugged him, fighting back tears.

"Yeh promise?" He looked down at me.

"I can't promise anythin." I knew he wasn't trying to be mean, that was just the truth. I started to cry. "Hey, come on. Why dontcha go upstairs an wait fer yer mudda ta get home?" I shook my head. I was so scared, I wanted to stay right there so I knew what was happening. Spud grabbed me by the shoulders and held me at arms' length. "Dey'll take care of 'im. I'll stay wid yeh until somebody gets home, alright?" I nodded. I wanted to argue, I really did, but I just couldn't find my voice. I let him lead me up the stairs to the third floor. "Yeh gotta help me heah, I dunno where yeh live." I walked to the door numbered 36, but I couldn't go in. My hand just hovered above the doorknob. "Ivan, yer assumin' da worst heah. Fer all we know, he got up and went out ta get a drink as soon as we left." He was pretty tall, but he bent down so he could look me in the eye. "I know I said I couldn't promise yeh anythin, but how bout dis? I can't promise everything'll turn out right, but I can promise I'll always be dere for ya. Deal?" I thought about it, and nodded. He spit in his hand and held it out and I did the same. It was little things like that that comforted me. We went inside and started a game of Go Fish. Spud never just let me win, he said it wasn't good for me, but today he went easy on me. Even so, I lost every time cause I was distracted. In the early afternoon the door opened and Ilya came in. Spud stood and greeted him, as he would any newsie, with a spit-shake.

"Not dat I mind, but why's yeh in my house?" He had picked up on the New York accent a lot. That was the kind of change I constantly fought, stuff like changing your accent. It just made things seem so different.

"Didncha see what happened this mornin?"

"No, I went down to da racetracks early. Some bum gave me a hot tip on da fourth, but it didn't amount ta much."

"Popi wouldn't like it if he found out you were gambling." I think that's when he really realized something was wrong. He was good at reading me, and it wasn't hard then. I was staring off, my face probably still showed where tears had fallen, and I'm pretty sure I sounded like I was in a trance. He looked at me for a second and then turned back to Spud.

"Freeze an Twitch an deir gang got a fella real mad an started a big fight. Yer pop an some othas jumped in to help em. Well, yeh know how in a fight, when everyone clears away, dere are da guys dat fell an couldn't get up." I could tell he was having trouble figuring out a way to say it. "He was one of em. At least, when we saw im he was. We don know what happened to him." Ilya sat down across from me. "Well, I told Ivan I'd stay till someone got home. I gotta go. Lemme know how everythin truns out, alright? An Ivan, remember what I said." How I needed those small comforts. Something as simple as Spud's promise to be there. Ilya didn't know him as well as I did, so the promise wouldn't mean as much to him. Or maybe it wouldn't mean as much to anyone as it did to a scared ten year old. I didn't know what to say. We just sat there in silence until Mama got home, which was quite a long time. When she did come in, her face was tear stained and she was holding her handkercheif. She looked at us for a moment and then started crying. After a second and a few deep breaths she regained herself.

"Boys, do you know what happened to Popi today?" We both nodded. "They took him to the hospital, but-" She started crying again. We didn't need to be told anymore. We knew what happened. He died. Ilya lay his head in his arms. I think he might have been crying, but I couldn't tell. I couldn't stay in the house. I got up and left, but I didn't know where I wanted to go. I knocked on Kolenkhov's door. When he answered, I just stood there. I didn't know what I should do.

"Ivan?" I looked up at him, carefully avoiding his eyes. On his shoulder sat Duchess, the squirrel I had brought to him and he had kept. I couldn't think of one thing to say, so I turned and ran down the stairs and out the door. I didn't know where I wanted to go, so I just ran. I ran until I got to the Brooklyn Bridge, which I wasn't allowed to cross. I went to the side and crawled into a space between the support beams. I hugged my knees and I just cried. I cried so much that when I looked up at the sound of footsteps, I could barely see through my glasses. The only thing that tipped me off was the red hair that was visible because he had removed his hat.

"Yeh ok?" I shook my head. "Mind if I join yeh in heah?" I shook my head again and he sat down next to me. I kept crying and he just sat there. Sometimes you just need to cry, and I'm glad Spud understood that. We sat there for a very long time. Finally, I stopped and looked up at him.

"You're gonna keep your promise, right? No matter what?"

"At's what I said isn't it?" I nodded. "Den a course." I hugged him. "Yeh should prolly be gettin home. Yer mum'll be worried." I got up and followed him back towards my building.

"Spud, what happened to your parents?" He sighed and messed with his hat for a second before putting it back on his head and answering.

"I don know. I woke up one morning when I was six an dey were just gone. Police and dem never found em. I don't mean ta be harsh on yeh, but in a way yer lucky. It's betta ta know what happened, even if it's bad, den ta not know anythin'."

"I'm sorry," I whispered after a second.

"Don worry about it. Second most important thing yeh learn bein a newsie: yeh gotta be tough. What doesn't kill ya makes ya stronga." Curiosity got the better of me.

"What's the first most important thing you learn?"

"Headlines don sell papes, newsies sell papes." I had to smile. We arrived in front of my building a little while later. "Care care of yer mum an Ilya, alright?" I nodded. "See ya wheneva. Carryin da bannah."

"Carrying tha banner." I went upstairs. Mama hugged me as soon as I walked in the door, crying her eyes out. I was sad, but I found I didn't need to cry anymoree. Spud was right. About a lot of things. First off, you had to be tough. Second, I was lucky, and I just couldn't forget that. As Ilya and I lay in our beds that night, unable to sleep, he whispered the last thing I'd ever hear him say to me.

"Ivan?"

"Yeah?" The sky that night was cloudless and full of blinking stars, we could see them through the window. It didn't matter.

"I hope there's a storm tonight."