A/N: Haha, this chapter took FOREVER! And since you all love me, I updating! Read and Review please! Okay, well, since I left you with a cliffhanger-ish-thing, I'm going to leave with more suspense and write this chapter! Yay! Okay, so pretty much (since most get confuzzeled) this is a chapter about what everyone else was doing that day while Lucks was at Coney Island and Race was hung-over, okay? Okay. And besides the suspense part, I needed a way to express my characters a liddle more. So here you have it!
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Central Park was fairly welcoming that day. It was hot, though, so not many people were there. But, at least there were enough to sell twenty newspapers to.
So, at the end of the day, Bow sat on a park bench (the same park bench where Snipeshooter and Skittery had found her five years earlier, but she didn't know that...). Her long, brunette braids hung limply off her shoulders and her head lolled in one direction as the sun went down and she began to fall asleep. The dying sunlight reflected off of her pale face, giving her tired expression a look of serenity. Her cabby hat rested on her lap and her vest was unbuttoned. Her blue suspenders were also hanging from her belt, even though she knew how much Flashbox hated it. Bow's hand-me-down pants from Lucks were rolled up a few times to reveal her dainty, mud stained, feet. And her small, ink stained hands lazily rested at her sides. All together, she looked like someone's porcelain doll who had been carelessly left on the park bench to wither away.
She slowly began to nod off into a slumberland of her own. She loved sleeping, dreaming... long forgotten memories came back to her in her dreams. Memories of her mother and father and nanny and aunts and uncles, her puppy, her dollies, and even... her sister. All that was left of them, however, were her dreams.
When Bow was five years old, her family took her to Central Park for a fourth of July celebration. Her name was Molly back then, but that names was now long forgotten. Anyways, at the park, she spent a wonderful evening marveling over the fireworks and lights. Everyone had a fantastic time... until he arrived.
His name was Briggs, and he was an old, drunken, homeless man. And homeless means that he didn't have any home... or any money. So one day, a certain fourth of July, actually, he stole himself a bottle of whiskey and drank. And drank. Until, finally, he was so drunk that he could barely stand.
Bow and her family were all walking back home, excited and laughing, when Briggs walked by.
"Gimme your money and jewllry and everyth-th-thing." He slurred, holding up a gun.
"Okay, so down, buddy." Bow's dad said and began taking everything they had that was worth something.
Apparently, that wasn't enough. Briggs fired four shots. Once at Bow's mother, once at her sister, once at her dad, and once at her. The fourth bullet missed her as her father jumped in front to protect her. The three of them died that night, while Briggs stumbled away with all of their belongings.
The next morning, Bow was found on the very park bench she was sitting on now, looking much like a forgotten porcelain doll. She had nothing of her past life except the clothes on her back and the bow that held her mothers pearl necklace together. When she awoke, two boys were standing over her, Snipeshooter and Skittery. She would never forget that day... neither would they.
Snipeshooter walked up to the little bench. There she was again. Why was it that he always found her there? He shrugged and walked up. She was asleep. No wonder, it was a hot and tiresome day for him to. He yawned slightly, then snapped himself out of it. He needed something to do.
"Hey Bow!" He greeted loudly, plopping down next to her.
Her head lolled a little more before it quickly bounced up and her eyes blinked open. She squinted and yawned before her eyes came back into focus. She smiled.
"Hiya Snipes! Whadd're we gonna do taday?" She asked perkily, as if she'd never been asleep.
"I dunno. How abouts we goes ta Brooklyn? I was meanin' ta drop off dese shootahs foah Spot." Snipes replied, showing her a few dark marble stones.
Bow marveled over them. "Sounds good ta me!" She chirped.
The two of them stood up and started walking off into the sunset. "Hey, Snipes?" "Yeah?" "When ah ya gonna teach me ta use a sling shot?" "I told ya, Bow, when ya oldah." "I'm old enough!" And thus, the arguing started again.
--
Cat was sitting outside Irving Hall. Her long black hair rolled off her shoulders. Her bright green eyes were fixated on a headline as large tears rolled out of them, running down her pale cheeks and splashing onto the newspaper below.
Sane Woman Set Free From Local Institution
Cat remembered that 'sane' woman. Her name was Katherine Griffith. She had gotten herself pregnant at age seventeen and was kicked out of her own home to raise her child herself. She gave birth to a daughter named Catrina and then, when Catrina was three, Katherine decided she didn't want her. She left Cat on the street, in the middle of the night when the little girl was sleeping. The next morning, Georgina, then the owner of the newsgirls' lodging house, found the little girl. Katherine attempted to kill herself, but was found by the police and sent to the local mental institution. Cat hadn't seen her since. She never wanted to. And now... they were letting her go?
Someone came up behind her and tapped on her shoulder. Cat let out a shudder and wiped her tears before turning around to find a very smiley Kid Blink. She smiled back, sniffling slightly. "Oh, heya Blink." She stood up and kissed him.
"Heya, Cat. What's up?" He asked, worried. He rubbed her back and led her away from Irving Hall.
Cat shrugged and threw her newspaper in the trash bin. "Nuttin'. Just thinkin'."
Blink nodded. He knew better than to press the matter. He figured he would, instead of getting on her nerves, attempt to cheer her up. "Hey, I heard about dis pahty down neah da Bronx. Wanna crash it?" He grinned, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
Cat looked up and him and she grinned too. "Let's go."
So, they chuckled and skipped off to this party, which turned out to be a wedding reception in a small bar/restaurant. They made their way to the bar and ordered two of the most expensive things they could find. Then, after taking a few drinks, the bartender looked them up and down.
"You two gonna pay fa dis?" He growled.
"Nah, put it on da groom's tab." Blink grinned.
"Da ya know da groom's name?" The bartender snarled.
Cat and Blink looked at each other, shook their heads, then burst out laughing, hightailing it out of the bar. The bartender chased after them until they were almost all the way down the street. Then, he finally yelled.
"Ya kids ain't got no futcha! Stay outta heah!" He sneered, then he wiped off his brow and began trudging back to his bar.
Cat and Blink stopped to catch their breath. They were both beaming and then they began laughing. Yeah, being a newsie was great stuff.
"So, how d'ya see our futcha, Cat?" Blink asked, still grinning.
Cat shrugged and sat down on a bench. "I dunno. Giggles'll pro'lly end up wit Mush an' dey'll have a dozen kids," she paused, winking, "on accident." She snorted. "Then Lucks will become Race's Italian cookin' wife by day, like he always wanted, and stage performah by nigh', like she always wanted." Cat shook her head and sighed. "Den Spot'll end up gettin' Curly pregnant, so dey have ta end up wit each uddah." This had her chuckling softly to herself. "As fa Flash? She'll be stuck watchin' da lodgin' house all her life if she doesn't juss find a man already, and Fidget will help her. It's juss meant ta be." She looked up at Kid Blink. "Ya know?"
Blink sighed and sat down next to her. Then he looked directly into her eyes. "I'm shoah all does t'ings will happen...but I was tawkin' about um... our futcha." He coughed slightly and looked down at his shoes before looking back at her.
Cat bit her tongue. "Gee... I dunno, Kid. I mean, shoah, I'd love fa us ta be tageddah." She muttered, smiling softly at him. Then her face fell. "But I don' wanna end up like me Muddah." She shifted uneasily.
Blink shrugged. "Hey, look at me." He pulled up her chin to look in her eyes. "Ya won't be like her." He grinned. "Cuz I won't letcha, a'righ'?"
Cat smiled softly again. "How d'you see our futcha, Blink?"
Blink put a hand to his chin, pretending to think about it. "Well, I see kids. Lotsa kids, like five before we're even twenty-five." He grinned goofily.
Cat coughed. "Dat many in dat shorta time?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Well, we could staht now." Blink smirked, kissing her. And then, before they new it, the two of them ended up in the boys lodging house. On Race's bed. They didn't even stop to realize that Race and Lucks were also in the room...
--
Flashbox walked outside the lodging house with her laundry basket. She always got done selling papers early, so she could do the laundry for the girls or pick up the lodging house a bit. She did own it after all.
Georgina, the elderly woman who had owned it before Flash, died three years previous, leaving Flash with everything in her will. Flash used the money to pass bills on the lodging house and buy food and new clothes when needed.
Originally, the lodging house was an orphanage for girls. Georgina opened it when she was young, having a need for helping unfortunate girls. Flash came to it when she was ten, a lonely street rat without a home. She'd ran away from home, unable to deal with every single abusive husband her mother had had (five, not including Flash's father), so she ditched.
Her name used to be Isabel. That name sounded so distant to her now. She had gotten her nickname when she first came to the orphanage. She would always brag about how much the cameras loved her, since she'd been in the paper once for helping an elderly woman. So, the girls started calling her Flashbox and it just stuck.
Then, when Georgina died, she knew she had to give the orphanage to the most charitable person, and she knew Flash would use it wisely.
After the strike, Flash knew that she needed a way to have the girls pay for their stay. She needed money for herself, after all. So, they all became newsies, everyone of them. That's how they all payed for their rent. Five cents a week was all she needed to keep the house up and running.
Now, Flash was hanging up the laundry for all the girls. She felt like their mother, and it made her proud to know that she had people that she cared about more than her mother did about her. It was good to know.
She was very content in pinning up a blouse, humming the tune to 'My Lovey-Dovey Baby' a song that Medda sang so often. Her wavy brown hair was pulled back into a tight, but sloppy bun in the back of her head. She was wearing a baggy shirt and a skirt. A small drip of sweat came off her forehead and she wiped it off. As she came across a shirt that she was possitive was Race's and gave a little chuckle. Normally, that would annoy her, but she was having a good day. So, she began humming again, not a care in the world, she didn't even notice the figure lingering in the shadows a little ways off. Until she smelt the foul scent of cigarette smoke. She looked up from her work to see Jack Kelly, leaning against the brick wall with a smug expression, taking a long drag of his cigarette.
"Heya, Flash, I almost didn' see ya." He smirked.
"Shuddup Kelly," She rolled her eyes. "Ya know, I heard smokin' makes kissin' feel like ya lickin' an ash tray." She sneered, attempting to go back to her laundry and ingore him.
"How wouldya know unless ya nevah tried." He continued looking smug. "Why doncha come ovah heah and try?"
Flash scoffed. "Get away from me, Kelly." Then she looked up at him. "An' besides, docha have a goilfriend? Or did she leave ya cuz ya weren' good enough." This time, she smirked.
Jack rolled his eyes at her. He knew she was talking about Sarah. Sarah, Davey, and even little Les were sent away to finishing school once their father got a new job. It wasn't the best thing to happen to Jack. "Nah, she got jealous of my uddah goils." Jack replied quickly.
Flash shook her head. "Yeah, I shoah dat's it." She replied sarcastically. "So, whaddya doin' around heah, anyways, Kelly? Doncha got sumthin' bettah ta do, den bug me?"
"Fortunately fa you, no." He winked. Then he sighed and put out his cigarette. "Actually, I was juss wonderin' if ya seen Skittery come around heah, he wanted ta tawk ta Fidget."
Flash raised an eyebrow and shook her head. "Nope, sorry, Kelly, no one came around heah."
"A'righ' t'anks. I'll see ya latah, Flash." He winked, turned around, and walked down the alley and out of sight.
Flash sighed and went back to her laundry. She began humming 'My Lovey-Dovey Baby' again and glanced down the alley way. "An' goochy-goo wit me."
--
Fidget sat lazily on the steps of the court house. Her frizzy brown hair was shoved under a red handkerchief that was now soaking in all of her sweat. Her tanned skin showed signs of freckles under her grey eyes and across her rosy cheeks.
She was normally a quiet person, but when she had to hawk headlines, she would occasionally yell. Since the day had been so hot, she didn't yell. She just walked up to people and ask them, "'Would ya like a pape, ma'me?' Or 'buy a pape, mistah?'. She was so cute, they just felt bad for her and bought one.
Fidget came to the lodging house two years previous. She was one of the few people who still had family, and didn't run away. Her family lived in Buffalo. Both of her parents were still alive. She had an older sister named Violet who had a husband and a daughter. Fidget also had a younger sister named Lily.
As you probably would have guessed, Fidget's name was Rose before she came to the lodging house. Her parents had a thing about flowers. But, her name was changed after arriving. She had gotten her nickname from being quiet, and very shy. Every time someone said something, she'd fidget uncomfortably. So, now she was Fidget.
She had moved to the big city from Buffalo when she was fourteen. Her parents sent her to live on her own and make some money out of it. Violet had done the same thing when she was fourteen, and Lily would too. So, she began living at the lodging house. She worked as a newsie and that was eventually how Flashbox had gotten the idea after the strike.
So, then, there she sat after another long days work. She sighed and rested her chin in her hands.
Then Skittery came up next to her and sat down. "Hey, Fidget." He said quietly, smiling.
Fidget looked up at him and smiled back. Then she looked at her feet and blushed slightly. "Hi, Skitts." She said, though it was so soft she was almost whispering.
"Hey listen," he began, he wasn't one to beat around the bush, "ya know how we always have pokah on Fridays? Well, um... I was juss wonderin' if maybe ya'd wanna come wit me."
She didn't understand. She looked up, confused. "Yeah, shoah, Skitts. I mean, I'll wawk wit ya ta Medda's if ya want me to."
Skitts smiled and shook his head. "Nah, I meant, ya know, we could go tagedduh."
Fidget blushed. "Oh," she said softly, then she looked back down at the ground. "Yeah, I'd like dat, Skitts." She replied softly.
"Good, ya want me ta wawk ya home?" He asked her.
She looked up at him, bit her bottom lip, and nodded. She knew she was blushing, but she couldn't help it.
"Okay." He smiled, then he stood up and held out a hand to help her up.
She hesitantly took it, and they walked off. She smiled to herself. Maybe some day you'll end up like Vi. She thought to herself as the sun began to set.
--
Giggles had one paper left. She was walking around a crowd watching a boxing match. She hated blood, and of all the places a girl like her could be... she chose a boxing match?
"Buy me last pape, Mistah?" She attempted to coax one of the spectators.
The man, looking annoyed, shook his head and went back to the match.
"Come on." She smiled sweetly. "A lovely penny fa a lovely lady?" She asked, batting her eyelashes.
The man smiled and gave in, handing her a penny, taking her pape, and went back to the match.
'A lovely lady' wasn't an exaggeration either. Giggles was very lovely. She had curly auburn hair that almost reached her waist. It was turning a lovely shade of red, now that it was summer time and she enjoyed being in the sun. She had tan, soft skin that showed hardly any signs of the tiny freckles across her nose. Her blue-green eyes sparkled in the sunshine as she waited for the day to end.
Then someone wolf whistled. "Look at dat angel. I'm in heaven." Came a voice from the right of her.
Giggles whipped around to find Mush, grinning, a little ways off. "Mushee!" She giggled, running towards him and hugging him tightly.
"Heya Giggles." He smiled sweetly, kissing her. He still had one paper left, but that was nothing.
Then someone whistled behind him. He glared, ready to yell something about Giggles being his and needing to keep their eyes off, but then somebody threw a penny at him. He smiled and threw his paper back.
He turned back to Giggles, who was still giggling. "Ya want me ta wawk ya home?" Mush offered.
Giggles smiled and nodded. The Lodging House felt more to her like her home than her actual home. Her old home was in Boston. She lived in a mansion filled with servants and such. Her parents usually ignored her. Then, when she was almost seven, her house was burnt down, her parents in it. Her and Lucks were the only two who actually shared the same experience. After her parents' deaths, Giggles (then named April) was moved to New York City to live with her Great Uncle Herb. That's when she learned that her Great Uncle Herb had died years before, leaving her with her Great Aunt (by marriage) Georgina. Giggles was fondly nicknamed Giggles, and made great friends with the other girls.
Mush and Giggles walked along the streets of New York. They made their way to the Lodging House as the sun began to sink lower and lower, their arms wrapped around each other.
Giggles had met Mush while getting groceries for the lodging house one day before the strike. He had offered to help her take the bags home and they hit it off ever since then. Mush recalled telling his friends that he'd 'met this goil last night', that was Giggles.
Giggles stood on the front steps that led to the lodging house. She leaned over the railing and gave Mush a goodnight kiss.
"See ya tamarrah, Doll." Mush smiled.
Giggles blushed, blew a kiss and walked inside.
--
Curly watched as the Manhattan leader approached. She groaned, but figured he would do the job, so she strutted up to him. "Heya, Jacky-boy." She said.
Jack looked down at her through the corners of his eyes. Curly didn't like him very much (ever since their little relationship a few years back), he knew that, but now she was talking to him, so he'd figured he'd stay on her side for the time being and talked back. "Heya, Curls."
The two of them continued walking towards the Boys Lodging House. "Ya plannin' on goin' ta bug da goils tanigh', Jack?" She asked.
Jack glanced down at her and put his hands in his pockets. "Acutally, I juss came from dere, why?"
Curly swore in Spanish. See, Curly's mother was from Spain. She immigrated here as a child. Shortly after having Curly, she decided the New York life wasn't for her and moved to Santa Fe, leaving Curly at the orphanage. Curly was given the nickname Curly since she had a head FULL of curls when she was little. That grew out and now she was just Curly, a name without a reason.
"Oh, cuz I was plannin' on goin' ta Brooklyn," she didn't tell him why, "An' I wanted someone ta tell da goils."
Jack nodded. "Well, I could have one of me boys ta go ovah dere. Race my volunteer."
Curly smiled softly. She always had a burning desire to travel to Santa Fe and meet her mother. Maybe that's why Jack and her still got along all these years. "T'anks Jacky-boy. I'll tawk ta ya latah." She smiled, and walked away, putting her hands in her pockets.
Jack smiled too as he watched her tan figure walk away. She was beautiful. Her brown hair, stick straight, mind you, reached her shoulders, but she always had it shoved underneath her hat. Her dark brown eyes were almost black, and always mysterious. Her skin dark, obviously showing off her ancestry. How she picked up the almost Latin accent in her voice, Jack didn't know, but that was only one of Curly's mysteries.
About a half-hour later, Curly found herself walking along the Brooklyn docks until she found the barracks. Two boys were guarding the door. "Burns, Marbles." She nodded at the two of them and they moved out of the way, letting her inside.
She made her way up the creaky staircase, skipping over the holes where the boards were missing. She found a beat up door and knocked. It led to the bedroom of the King of Brooklyn, Spot Conlon himself.
"Yeah?" Came a voice from inside.
Curly felt the pull on her stomach again, like she had to throw-up, but she resisted. She let herself in and spotted Spot Conlon, sprawled on the bed and dawdling with the key around his neck.
Spot looked up at her and smirked. "Heya, Curls, how's it rollin'?" He called.
Curly bit her tongue, ready to cry. She resisted that too and shrugged.
Spot stood up and moved over to her. He shut the door behind her. Then he wrapped his arms around her, holding her from behind, and kissed her neck.
Curly swatted him away and wiggled out of his reach. She crossed the room and looked out the broken window. The view was the moon reflecting off the river.
"'S'a'mattah?" Spot frowned, coming towards her again.
She shuddered. "Spot, we needs ta tawk." She said, staring into his blue eyes.
He continued frowning. "'Bout what?"
"I'm pregnant."
