May 9, 1903
Matches stretched out like a cat letting the dying light of the day dance over his closed eyelids. He was tucked up against the crisp white balustrades on the rooftop of city hall, where he had been napping for the last hour. The waning heat had woken him, as it usually did, and as he had promised Jasper it would. He curled his toes and rolled his fingers, slow to move into the world again even as he heard the rising bustle of the crowds below.
A sharp crack of a whistle rose above the rest of the noise and Matches allowed for the growl that would go unheard rumble in his throat.
"I hear ya, I hear ya." Matches mumbled into the air. He reached behind his head to grab the jacket he had been using as a pillow and sat up. Even from the northwest corner of City Hall, he could see the teaming crowds below heading to Newspaper Row. Joseph Pulitzer was throwing a party in his own honor and it was going to be quite the affair. Rubbing some of the sleep from his own eyes, Matches allowed himself one whole yawn before lazily scanning the streets below.
He caught sight of the Brooklyn swagger within a second as if he was trained to see it always the same way it seemed to be trained into all the newsboys from Brooklyn. Slingshot Kai swung his legs and arms in a way that took up space but to a trained eye was nervousness disguised as confidence.
"That's why Spot got a cane." Daisy quipped quietly from behind him. The old bird didn't jump, didn't even turn around to see how she had to be settled against the sloping rooftop behind him.
"I shouldn't have taught you how to get up here." Matches huffed in annoyance.
"Don't worry, Jasper didn't send me." Daisy soothed easily. "I've never seen fireworks."
"And you want to keep an eye on your younglings." Matches pushed up to a crouch, as he started moving east following the newsboys. He knew Daisy would move with him, careful to stay out of sight of those below and not to fall off the slated roof.
Slingshot kicked his foot off the ground, not even bothering to check if he might hit Bottle Cap in front of him. What business did Bottle Cap even have being in front of the leader of the Brooklyn Newsies, anyway? The noise was overwhelming in the crowd and Slingshot was having a hard time hearing or even breathing in the pressing crowd. If Slingshot was honest with himself he knew if Bottle Cap wasn't leading the way he would not have made it this far, fireworks or not.
"You'd better watch it." Bottle Cap's growl managed to break through the chatter around him, crisp and harsh. If Bottle Cap had been any other Brooklyn boy, he might have decked his leader for kicking him in the behind. But he wasn't and he had lived through enough years with boy kings to know that it really wasn't worth the pissing contest. Slingshot was uncomfortable and excited, and it couldn't be helped.
The whistling was dizzying as there was a bird in every direction. The uniforms were marching into place. The fireworks were to go off in two hours. Brooklyn had arrived. The mayor's adopted daughter was there with her new husband, as were at least five of the Astor 400 which was information no doubt obtained by a certain socialite turned bird. Bottle Cap searched the crowd, which was getting denser with every step, for the familiar brown locks or tilt of the head or even the ridiculous ribbon with feathers she had taken to wearing according to some reports.
"Why'd we decide to come?" Slingshot grumbled behind him. Bottle Cap knew the leader of Brooklyn didn't like crowds, hated feeling trapped in a way that was born from a child raised in violent mobs.
"You've never seen fireworks." Bottle Cap shrugged.
"You ain't never seen them either!" Slingshot grouched back as Les Jacobs reached out to pull the boys into the Manhattan crowd.
"If it ain't the boys from Brooklyn, gracing us with their presence," Les shouted at Slingshot. The tall fellow was hanging from the Horace Greeley statue in a way more familiar in the under ten set than in the nearly grown, but Les Jacobs had never done anything because it was more becoming. Snipeshooter sat above Les, in Greeley's lap, in a whispered memory of a boy and lounging king that made even Slingshot pause to wonder how it was the Manhattan Newsboys got such a prime spot for the celebrations.
The crowd pressed around them, young and old, poor and rich, in an unmistakable tremor of excitement. Slingshot scanned the crowd, and instinctually rocked on his heels before pressing himself higher upon his toes.
"You won't see her from here." Bottle Cap murmured as Les Jacobs held out an arm to help Slingshot up onto the statue. The Brooklyn boy scoffed at the offered hand and easily jumped up onto the statue. Bottle Cap rolled his eyes and shook his head at the offered hand. He'd spotted a tiny little redhead under a ridiculously large hat underfoot, and couldn't lose his mark by moving.
Wild ducked around the wide bustle of a Miss Samson. He recognized her pinched face, not the friendly one but one of the elder sisters that said nasty things about Laces when she wasn't about. The lady hissed at him but he didn't pay her much mind as he dropped to his knees and crawled between a gentlemen's legs, moving through the crowd quickly and in a manner that left few ready to follow him. Laces had told him the navy men were coming and that they'd be in front of The World building and the boy was set on seeing their salute.
"Do mind your purse there Ellington," A man sneered above Wild just loud enough to be sure he was heard. Wild rolled his eyes, he was a skilled enough pickpocket that if he'd wanted the purse in question he would have already nicked it.
"That little chap is just excited to see the salute, see that's where he's heading." A man laughed above his head. Wild was caught by the jolly nature of his voice and snapped back to study the two men. They were in fine clothes, tailored in the smart way of university fellows though neither had a city accent. The boy had stilled as he studied the men, and found his tongue got away from him.
"Have you ever seen one?" Wild squeaked up at the jolly man, Ellington he had been called.
"I have, yes. My father was a Naval officer, they're a real treat. Don't you think Martins?" Ellington clapped a friendly hand on the sneering man beside him.
"I haven't the faintest idea why you must to talk to everyone who speaks to you." Martins huffed impatiently.
"Canterbury is about here somewhere with the exquisitely charming Miss Kai, we're here to see a bit of fanfare before a late dinner and best be if you shake that foul mood." Ellington shoved at his friend and Wild ducked away from the men, his excitement heighten by the confirmation of the treat from the young gentleman.
He shoved his way through a pocket of building men and laundry girls, listening to the chattering on the score of the latest on the second game in the series between the Giants and Invaders. Ducking, weaving, and tumbling through the crowd allowed the little bird to be within ear distance of every kind of New Yorker. That had been Laces argument when she'd strolled into the nest a week before the celebration had been announced. She had stood in her fine coat with her chin held high as she made the case for all the birds to be allowed to attend.
Wild stopped at the edge of the crowd, looking out at the men lined up like tin soldiers in front of him. West popped up next to his twin, smacking his lips on a piece of licorice.
"Where'd you get candy?"
"Laces." West grinned, not even waiting to exclaim the name before holding out a secondary piece. Across the street leaning against the Sun Building, Bitter watched the exchange between the twins.
"It ain't no wonder they think her their own princess from a fairy tale." She scoffed down to the bird half asleep by her feet. Filly chuckled.
"They ain't the first. There's some kind of magic to that girl."
"Do you believe the tip she gave us?" Bitter nervously fidgeted with her fingernails.
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't." Filly scoffed. Filly was a creature of habit and the birds move to Manhattan from Brooklyn hadn't threatened her perch on the bridge.
"How'd she know where Senator Platt is going to be exactly?" Bitter demanded.
"Do try to keep your voice down, you know how the ears are always up." Filly chastised, never once lifting her voice or her head. Bitter bite down on one of her nails impatiently. Filly sighed at the movement.
"You can stay for the fireworks." The older bird offered.
"He ain't even the boss anymore." Bitter whispered. She had turned her gaze to down the empty road, away from the excited crowd and Filly pushed herself up to stand. Senator Platt, one of the most powerful men in New York politics had stepped out of a carriage down the block. Not once did the man even glance down to the celebrations in the square, though the birds watching him knew he was here to join the snazzy party Pulitzer was throwing.
"Don't think that matters much in politics. And I wouldn't let Jazz hear you talk like that." Filly sighed again, pushing her hair up into her cap.
"You might be back before the fireworks." Bitter offered nervously.
"Stay and see if you spot any of the others." Filly winked at the girl before striding off down the road. There was a bird in every corner of Herald Square, on the lookout for the mucky-mucks invited to the newspaper tycoon's anniversary celebration. Bitter turned to see the guns rise up again, in perfect unison.
The guns started going off with a roar of excitement from the crowd and a clamor. The smoke barely cleared before they were going off again and it was unlike anything Matches had ever seen. Daisy had settled her head into his shoulder, as she studied the crowds below. He traced the smoke of each gunshot up through the air, seeking out Joseph Pultizer in his perch at the top of the World. But old Joe wasn't out for his own party, at least not where his subjects could see him.
"Isn't it curious how Laces knew about this bash before us?" Matches asked.
"I knew before she did." Daisy smiled mischievously. Matches jerked in surprise, finding her holding out a glass bottle of Coca Cola she had been hiding in her skirts.
"But how? And where'd you get that from?" He demanded angrily.
"I've got half a sandwich for you too." She struggled with her skirts for a moment before pulling out a paper parcel.
"Why'd Laces tell Jasper first?" Matches pressed though less severe at the sight of food.
"She's a real match for Jasper, and Critter too when she's got it in her head to be. Stubborn and charming in equal measure. She wanted us all to have a lark." Daisy shrugged unapologetically.
"You wanted the young ones to be allowed to come." Matches laughed as he spotted Raindrop crawling up the Horace Greeley Statue to sit next to Slingshot. A sharp and long whistle rippled through the air, echoing from the crowd like a parade.
"She's heading to dinner if ever I could have imagined a day when it would be Laces Kai herself that would be telling us when she was on the move…" Daisy mumbled around a bite of her sandwich.
"She's become useful." Matches nodded.
"And don't think Jasper doesn't see the danger in that." Daisy tilted her head up to catch the first burst of lights.