A Brooklyn Bird...
Bottle Cap struck a match up against the brick wall of The Walden. His forehead rested against the stone as he cupped his hand over the match and cigarette. With a kick of his heel, Bottle Cap's shoulders now rested where his forehead had been only seconds before. Puffing away at his cigarette, he rolled his dark eyes noticing the two figures beside him.
"Nice girls don't let boys kiss them in the streets in broad daylight." Cap spat the words out trying to discourage his kissing friends.
"And working boys usual work in the middle of the afternoon." Slingshot grumbled a response back without surrendering the kissing.
"You're here too. Fearless leader of Brooklyn, I'm sure Spot never once skipped out on selling to see a show." Cam had pushed Slingshot away from her all of a sudden. A smile twitched at her lips but her eyes were reproaching both newsies for their bothersome comments.
"Oh he did." Cap laughed flicking the cigarette in his fingers before handing it over to Slingshot.
"Did he?" Slingshot asked intrigued to find out imperfections of his godlike predecessor.
"Not so much in the later years, but in the beginning. Actually we meet when he was coming out of a show. Him and Kelly both had a soft spot for the entertainment on cold afternoons." Cap rubbed his hands together.
"You think Laces can get us some extra coats? This winter might get too cold for my coat…" Slingshot started. The end of September was proving chillier than the newsboys were use to in the past. Not to mention the young leader of Brooklyn was starting to stretch. The only jacket Slingshot Kai even owned was beginning to make him look ridiculous, as the cuffs were practically hugging his elbows.
"I'm sure the mighty Spot Conlon didn't have a rich benefactor." Cammie rolled her eyes as she pushed her cloaked shoulder into Matt for warmth.
"You'd be surprised." Cap mumbled under his breath. Cap uncomfortably twitched to scratch his arm, over a coat that had been patched enough to survive the years it had spent with Spot Conlon.
"What was that?" Slingshot demanded of Cap. But Bottle Cap was well trained in the art of evasion and just shrugged and shook his head. A faint melody of whistles, soft and familiar came echoing down.
"A secret." Bottle Cap sighed looking over at the back of oblivious Slingshot. Slingshot didn't turn, didn't tense, didn't look up and definitely didn't skip a beat in his step. The whistling still had little affect on the young man. If it had been up to Slingshot, the birds of Brooklyn would take to getting his attention in very overt way. He hated the signals and the clues, the whistling in particular seemed a rather cumbersome process to the young man.
Bottle Cap shook his head but sucked at his teeth a moment listening to the faint twittering. It was the melody. The oldest of its kind and instantly Bottle Cap knew the news was about someone no longer in his world. Cap watched Slingshot trot along out of sight and the second in command suddenly let a wide grin overtake his face and a chuckle escape him. Cap ducked into one of the nearest building, appearing as if that had always been his planned destination.
Only three flights of stairs up, Cap found a girl with vivid red curls pressed against a window covered in soot. She was curled into her chest and dramatically snored to ensure anyone who passed would believe her asleep. But Bottle Cap knew how to spot a Brooklyn Bird, even if they weren't a familiar face. Maybe it was because the children spies of the city had an air about them, a streak of confidence that poured into the air around them. Or maybe it was how they always seem to carry a bit of the nest around with them, strings and bits hanging from their outfits in a way that was inexplicably bird like. Whatever the indicator was, Bottle Cap knew that the girl sitting on top of a barrel of strong scented moonshine had to be a bird.
He clicked his tongue against his cheek making the tiniest noise he could imagine. The girl barely jumped; barely let her eyes open wider than a single edition of the afternoon Journal. Cap smiled and pressed his lips together letting out the words he had learned before learning how to shout a headline.
"I have a secret." Cap provided quietly. The red curls burst with life, eyes popped open and a pink color suddenly flushed the girl's high cheekbones.
"Doubt it's something I don't already know." Firecracker snapped her fingers a few times before spitting on her thumb and cleaning off the dirt from her face.
"See a lot sleeping up here on the third floor of this estate?" Cap mocked. He knew that she probably did, birds were strange creatures to Bottle Cap.
"It ain't just about what you can see, a lot is about what you can hear." Firecracker winked and tilted her head to the right.
"Were you the one whistling for me?"
"I would think we were whistling for the leader of Brooklyn," The mockery was subtle and respectable even, but Cap noticed the hint of absurdity that the bird used in her tone.
"He didn't hear it. Sooner or later he'll get it." Cap shrugged.
"Or he doesn't care for this signal as much as you might?" Firecracker asked avoiding eye contact by fidgeting with a bit of rope that she started to expertly wrap around her hair.
"Is it about Laces?" Cap frowned suspiciously. The old birds song was only used these days for news about Laces, Spot, Jack, Critter or any of the classic characters of the city tales.
"There's going to be a hatchling…" Firecracker giggled at her own wit.
"What?" Cap's voice went up an octave and the steady ground suddenly moved underneath the boy.
"Of the southern cricket variety." Firecracker frowned at the Cap not moving from her perch. Cap ran his hand across his face, as suddenly he understood Slingshot's desire to ring a bird's neck. Always talking in riddles, a bunch of mouths and smart responses.
"South then?"
Firecracker nodded.
"And she's taking it well?" Cap snapped impatiently.
"Southie's got that glow of motherhood." Firecracker grinned closing her eyes once again. She started scrunching down into her curled up position once again.
"And Laces?" Cap growled.
"Tickled." Firecracker yawned. The bird's face was pressed against the soot again and Bottle Cap knew that the girl was done divulging any type of information at all. Cap swung one leg around the other and spun himself around, taking off in a sprint that was almost worthy of the birds.
It had been a conversation short enough to be in one of the flicker pictures Snipeshooter liked so much. With enough speed, Bottle Cap would be behind Slingshot and Cammie before his leader even noticed that he was gone. Not that the newsboy was hoping for lax skills of observation from his leader, he wanted Slingshot to be annoyed that Cap had disappeared. Annoyance meant Slingshot had noticed, that his attention was on high alert. Then maybe Bottle Cap could stop spending his every waking moment with the newest boy king. Matthew Kai had yet to learn to watch his own back as carefully as he should.
Maybe it was the sound of stones turning into dirt, or the way Cap's heel slip and sent his knee clumsily into a solid object with a thump. Whatever it was that gave away his presence, Slingshot reacted as only a leader of Brooklyn ever could. His hand at his back pocket and his aim ready to hit whoever was coming up behind him with enough force to burst at least enough blood vessels to develop a great shiner.
Slingshot was fast, instant almost but Cap had grown up in Brooklyn. Inhale the very paranoia that now pumped in Slingshot and his hands acted of their own accord. The marbles, two very good shooters, went to waste as they smacked into each other in the air and flung off in opposite directions off the Brooklyn Bridge.
"What'd they have to say?" Slingshot glared at Bottle Cap. Cap had one knee against the bridge, as if he had actually fallen and still managed to have perfect aim.
"Noticed then?" Cap rolled his eyes to annoyed about losing a shooter to be proud of Matt.
"Why is it that you talk to my birds more than I do?" Slingshot growled. On occasion the young leader of Brooklyn was struck by his relatively new status on the stage of the Brooklyn Empire. To prove his own importance, or strength, or something Slingshot refused to help Cap back up to his feet instead crossing his arms and waiting for Bottle Cap to regain his footing. Cammie tried to take a step forward to help the boy, her friend as much as Matt's second in command but Slingshot merely held out her hand to stop her.
"If you could remember the code, than maybe they would come to you when you called. Or if you even bothered to check in with them once in a while…" Cap chastised as he clapped the gravel off his palm.
"The Brooklyn Birds were made to provide information to the leader of Brooklyn." Slingshot stated.
"Not true, actually." A voice from nowhere giggled.
"Do you all really need to do that? Hide in the shadows like a ghost in the old city…" Cammie jumped. Filly didn't look over her shoulder but kept her eyes focused on the river below. She would not engage in an actual conversation with the leader of Brooklyn, but that didn't mean she could point out how grossly misinformed he was.
"What'd you mean not exactly?" Slingshot demanded. In the five months since Spot Conlon had been gone, Slingshot had taken time to learn the usual perches of the well-informed birds. Filly Ingles, a silent slightly awkward type with hair that eerily matched the colors of the ropes of the Brooklyn Bridge always sat somewhere on the connection to Manhattan. Filly never made eye contact and rarely divulged information with sarcastic remarks to bite into Slingshot's confidence. But Bottle Cap had assured the hotheaded leader of Brooklyn that hitting the girl would do him no good.
"Ah Matthew Kai, the world does not revolve around you… much like it didn't really revolve around Conlon himself." Filly puffed at a cigarette, covering her own face with smoke and crystallized breathing in the cold.
"Filly, shush up!" Another voice commanded.
"He should know…" Filly kicked at the stair step beneath her harshly.
"I'm going to tell Jasper…" A male voice squeaked. Cammie was the only one of the trio that tried to locate the last voice, the male voice. It was pointless; birds were either completely in your way or basically invisible.
"What do you mean?" Slingshot demanded.
"Jasper ain't half as bad as Critter…" Filly sighed.
"Jasper ain't half as bad as me!" Slingshot tapped his slingshot impatiently on the back of Filly's head.
"Don't anger the bird," Cap hissed as he whacked his leader's hand out of the air.
"I'm tried of this leader game. It's going to get colder…" Cammie snuggled more into Slingshot.
"Walk you're girl home, try not to get soaked on the way." Cap grumbled as he shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking. The trio walked the length of the bridge in a silence that was familiar, comfortable as the cold of the fall settled around them and darkness started creeping into the sky.
"Don't try to see her." Slingshot warned before they parted. The trio spilt as the bridge dumped them into a busy street in Manhattan. A few carriages were strolling along quickly as the white droplets of rain fell from the sky. One newsboy, Gamble stood at the farthest street corner bouncing on the heels of his feet as he attempted to discard the rest of his newspapers for the day. Cap didn't bid farewell to his leader or his leader's girl, instead he purposefully walked away from the young crowned prince of Brooklyn. It was a habit of Cap and Slingshot never to say farewell to each other, a habit that ensured that anyone that was watching or listening would realize that the boys were anything but sentimental. But more importantly to Cap, not saying farewell ensured that they would indeed have to see each other again. Cap had heard enough final farewells, to dislike the idea of good-byes at all even in death.
Author's Note: Three updates this week, this being the last. This week we're back to only one- leave reviews - they definitely inspire me to keep the story going. Almost like my own muse. Hope you all enjoy!