November 1902
Bottle Cap stood with his thumbs expertly pulling out his suspenders as he used the rest of his fingers to comb through the morning edition.
"What's the headline?" Slingshot lazily yawned. The leader of Brooklyn was lying on the ground with his hat pulled over his closed eyes.
"Read the paper." Cap kicked over an edition.
"You could just read it out loud. Sort of like hawking headlines." Slingshot waved his arm around over his head without bothering to move the paper that now covered the half of his face that his hat had left visible.
"Get up and be a newsboy. Where is your pride?" Cap growled.
"Must have left it in the boarding house." Slingshot snapped his cheeky response. Having reached the end of his patience for one morning, Bottle Cap picked up his boot and jabbed it into the right side of Slingshot's ribcage.
"Hey there!" Slingshot had the paper off his face, his hat pushed up and his body in enough of a sitting position to punch someone in less time than it took him to express his annoyance in words. And he might have punched Bottle Cap, if he had been anyone of his other newsboys.
"I ain't never doing you the favor of getting your morning editions again." Cap warned seriously as his fingers twitched enough to dare his leader to pick a fight with him.
Slingshot growled and grumbled as he pushed himself off the ground and jumped to stand next to Bottle Cap, pretending as if he had been standing the entire time. Cap shook his head as he shoved a paper into Slingshot's chest without apology. The first paper laid half crumbled and slightly forgotten by Slingshot's dusty boots.
"Carrying an extra forty papes has you in a mood." Slingshot frowned.
"Having a lazy bum for a leader has me in a mood."
A quick temper can only be controlled for so long, and the leader of Brooklyn had never been known to hold it long. Slingshot rolled his shoulder and had his fist where Cap's jaw had been only seconds before. But Bottle Cap was practically an authority on dodging incoming fights and had shifted out of the way slightly. The force behind Slingshot's well-trained punch sent the boy tumbling forward.
"Hold up there," Cap used his left leg to steady his stumbling leader. Slingshot shot him a murderous glare.
"I should pound you." He grumbled.
"Maybe one day you'll be quick enough." Cap rolled his eyes but the newsboy stepped just out arm's reach of his leader, just in case.
There was a moment when Slingshot weighed his options, clenching and unclenching his fist before deciding the fight would lead no where. Bottle Cap would not apologize, never admit fault and the permanent shadow of the new order boy king already knew of Brooklyn's power. Slingshot let out a low growl as he shoved the palm of his left hand into his temple in frustration, pushing back his unruly hair as he started to scan his own paper.
"Maybe you shouldn't miss curfew at your own lodging house…" Cap finally ventured to state. He didn't have to look up to know the piercing glare the younger Kai was shooting in his direction, it was similar to the glare of his cousin and a particular Conlon.
"I wasn't that late." Slingshot defended through gritted teeth.
"Late enough to sleep on the ground…"
"Look here Bottle Cap, if you didn't want to do the favor ain't no body that made you..." Slingshot started hotly but the intent frown on Cap's face cut the rant short. Hooking his boot into the iron fence behind him, Slingshot leaned over enough to look at the page of the paper Cap was reading. Expert eyes roamed the tiny print in search of what story could possibly be captivating enough to crinkle a forehead.
"Miss Audrey Kai, dressed sharply as Cinderella, arrived at the ball on the arm of her Prince Charming, the Jacob Henry Canterbury…" Slingshot read out loud. Cap's instincts kicked in immediately and his elbow pushed back into Slingshot's arm so quickly and with so much force the paper tore at the centerfold. Slingshot reacted just as quick, unhooking his boot and swinging it around to kick Cap in the back of the knee. Cap was on the ground in a huff but the boy took the physical rebuff quietly.
The two boys fumed at each other in silence, as Cap collected his papers and Slingshot's from the ground and stood back up.
"We can't talk about Audrey in public…" Cap hissed below a whisper as he handed Slingshot his papers for the third time this morning.
"And I'm the leader." Slingshot hissed back.
The two young men started roaming down the docks on the Brooklyn side of the East River in silence. Every few steps, Slingshot would pull forward and shout a headline or Cap would stand back and shout a headline. Each boy sold a dozen of their papers before they spoke again.
The morning bustle was in full force now, screeching from deck hands and young mothers and older sisters trying to work a deal. The noise of the city was enough now that the newsies could talk between headlines enough to not be easily overheard.
"Where in Brooklyn are my birds hiding these days?" Slingshot finally asked.
"Just noticing?" Cap mocked as he shook his head.
"What am I just noticing?"
"They are hiding in Manhattan." Cap shook his head. With squinting eyes, Slingshot looked across the East River towards Manhattan.
"They are the Brooklyn Birds." He stated stubbornly.
"Yes." Cap nodded in agreement.
"Why'd you go and let them move to Manhattan?"
"I didn't go and let them do anything. They've got their own stubborn leaders." Cap shrugged.
"Coffee?" A pair of hands shoved two tin cups sloshing with dark liquid at the two young men. The scent was strong enough for Slingshot to immediately take the offering without thought or regard to the seller but Cap held out his hand to stop his leader from drinking.
"How much?" He questioned as he looked up. As he recognized the face in front of him, he released his hand from Slingshot's cup and proceeded to take his own cup.
"It'd do if you two fools didn't shout about us in the middle of Brooklyn." RB stated tersely.
"We ain't shouting." Cap replied between slurps.
"Besides, Irish this ain't nowhere near the middle of Brooklyn or have you forgotten because you've…" Slingshot didn't manage to finish his statement as he felt the iron tight grip of fiery Irish bird on his wrist.
"Keep talking and that coffee will be on your head." She warned. She waited until he nodded, letting her green eyes danced from his head to his coffee enough times for him to agree.
"And you call me Irish one more time and I'll shove my fist into that dandy nose of yours." RB warned.
"Conlon called you…" Slingshot began.
"Conlon was…" She began but this time it was Slingshot's dark glower that controlled her from finishing the statement.
"So Irish, you selling coffee now?" Slingshot smirked.
"Today."
"What is this about Jacob Henry…" Cap began.
"You two should keep on eye on Buttons, kid's been getting sloppy with his penny pocketing." RB whispered back.
"But what about this Canter…" Slingshot started again.
"Jasper wants to meet with the two of you." RB slipped her hands around the now empty tin cups.
"Why both of us?" Slingshot demanded.
"Cap?" RB prompted before disappearing into the crowd of the docks with her two tin cups.
"We should take care of the pick pocket problem." Cap suggested as he started trudging uphill and away from the bustling docks. Slingshot remained a bit longer, starring off into the crowd trying to find the light red locks of RB once again. Cap sold three more papers before Slingshot was at his side again.
"She didn't tell us about Canterbury."
"She might not know anything about him." Cap explained.
"Jasper should come to us if he wants to meet." Slingshot suggested.
"Not likely."
The boys trudged uphill and back into the crowded shops of the docks. Weaving around the crowd of sailors, traders and sellers the two newsboys finished selling the last of their papers before reaching the end of the riverside port. Slingshot nodded at the tiny pub at the corner before Cap followed him inside.
The pub was barely the size of the front room of the lodging house but it had two tables pushed up against the dusty windows and a plank placed on two barrels masquerading as a bar. The bar keep glared at the boys as they walked in, but Slingshot pushed up a nickel between his thumb and palm before sitting down at one of the tables. Both boys slapped down a nickel onto the table and used their sleeves to clear off the dust on the table.
"Canterbury, that was the boy with the dark hair and an odd habit of smiling?" Slingshot demanded.
"That boy is older than you are." Cap sighed.
Slingshot nodded as he caught sight of a young girl carrying two bowls towards them. The girl shuffled over to the table placing the bowls down with a clank. She grinned a gapped smile as she clutched the nickels with her now empty hands. Cap whipped off his hat as he nodded to her as his brown hair stuck up in every direction. An even smaller child, a boy as tall as the table, trotted behind the girl carrying a plate with a loaf of bread torn in two.
"Thanks kid." Slingshot caught the plate before the boy dropped the bread on the ground. The children scurried off as Slingshot started slurping up his soup. Bottle cap tucked his hair back under his cap before he began to soak his chunk of bread into his watery soup. The boys ate in silence until Slingshot lifted his bowl to tip the remnants of liquid down his throat that Bottle Cap noticed the scarp of paper.
Still just friends. You know Laces.
The note was clear, distinctive even. The S slightly angled downward, and other letters mostly cramped together as if a child in school had been forced to write the note. Cap frowned as he searched the pub for evidence of the messenger of this news. The little girl with the toothless grin was peeking out from the door at the back of the bar. She was blinking at him, knowing he had received the note she must have suck to the bottom of Slingshot's bowl.
"She's too young." Slingshot muttered as he crumpled the note up.
"For what?' Cap asked distractedly as he let his gaze jump instinctively to the ceiling.
"Come on the afternoon edition is going to be out soon." Slingshot grumbled as he moved out of his seat, nodding to the man behind the bar.
It wasn't until the two young men had disappeared around the corner that the little girl who had delivered her message scurried back out to pick up the empty bowls. As she dipped forward, she carefully pushed a single gray feather into the dirty window sill before she clanked the bowls together and hurried back to her younger brother.