Hi there Ho there Fans and Those who have nothing better to do. You are about to read Ch. 2. Prepare Yourselves. Amber

Disclaimer: Not the Mastermind responsible for the Newsies.

Ch. 2

"Gasp," exclaimed Amara as she read The Sun and waited for Racetrack. She had just read what the riot had been about. Apparently news had arrived of the Boxer Rebellion in China. A few young Chinese men had been feeling a little rebellious and had re-enacted the whole thing. Amara was almost glad that Fingers had taken her purse, for it had allowed her to escape the riot. She read on and continued to read the article. She was totally engrossed in it and did not see Racetrack arrive.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat. Amara looked up and her spectacles slid off her face and fell into her lap. Racetrack sniggered and Amara shot him a dirty look as she put her glasses back on. "Your late." She stated clearly.

"Sorry, but it coudn't be 'elped. Now, what do yous want ta know?" Racetrack asked her, around his cigar.

"Well, I understand that the strike was started as a protest against the unfair raising of the paper's price. Is that correct?" Amara started.

"Yous coud say dat. 'owever, it was also more den dat. Ah, 'oo am I kiddin, yous 'ad da right of it. Da way dey just jacked up da price da way dey did, it wasn't fair. Most of us, we coudn't make a living wid da old cost, but wid da raise, it was impossible." Racetrack said in all seriousness.

"Whose idea was it and who were the main leaders? Amara asked. For the next half hour, a pattern was established; Amara asked the obvoius questions and Racetrack smoked his cigar. Racetrack was getting frustrated because she kept asking questions she already knew the answers to. He felt more than knew, that she wanted to ask other questions but he did not know why she insisted on asking obvious questions.

Amara didn't know why she couldn't ask better questions. She already knew everything she was asking about. Curses, think Amara, think of better questions, she scolded herself, as she asked another pointless question.

"Look 'ere, Amara, why don't yous ask me what yous really want ta ask me? We both now dat yous already know 'oo Brian Denton is." Racetrack finally told Amara. Caught off guard, Amara could only stare at him. How could he know that?

"Very well then, what would you like to ask me about?"

"Ask me what yous ah dyin ta ask me. I can tell dat yous really want ta ask me someting else. I ain't sure what it is, but I tink yous should ask it anyways."

"How could you know that?" Amara asked Racetrack. He gave her a knowing look and sat back. Amara saw this and immediately felt a twinge of playful anger. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, "Why do you constantly smoke a cigar? Don't you know how bad you smell?" Amara laughed at Racetrack's surprised look.

"I smoke a cigar 'cause I ain't no sissy and I'm preddy cool." He said shrugging her off. "'eres a question for yous," He started, getting serious. "Whad are yous doin' down 'ere, hangin' around wid me 'n' da rest of dese lowlifes? An why didn't yous just call da bulls as soon as Fingers grabbed yer bag?" He gestured to some of his buddies, who were in the square as well.

" First off, the Police were a little busy with the riot and second off, I do not even know some of these so called 'lowlifes', why don't you introduce me?" Amara challenged back.

"Yous really want to know dem?"

"I said I did, didn't I?"

"Fine, lets go den." Racetrack grabbed Amara's hand and pulled her towards a large group of newsies. Amara was wishing she hadn't been so hasty. There were an awful lot of newsies over there and she wasn't sure she was ready to deal with them, especially if they were anything like Racetrack.

"'ave yous come ta interview me now?" Asked a boy she had met the other day, Amara wasn't sure but she thought his name was Snack Jelly.

"Nah Cowboy, she only wants ta talk ta the impoitant people." Race countered smoothly.

"Ms. Amara wanted ta meet some of yous guys. Amara dis 'ere is Jack Kelly, aldough we call 'im Cowboy." He went down the line and named off everyone there, "Skitters, Fingers, Snipeshooter, Specs, Jake, and boots." Amara looked each in the eye and tried to remember names and faces. She already knew Fingers and when she got to him, he gave her a mean look and left the group. The rest of the boys watched him leave and Racetrack continued, "Dats not all of dem, but yous will prolly meet da rest of dem lator."

"Nice to meet all of you," Amara smiled politely. They echoed her sentiments, if not a little weakly. An odd silence fell over the group and to fill that silence, Amara started talking. "I am really looking forward to meeting with some of you for my article. I truly appreciate your cooperation and I want you all to know how important each of you are to my article." This made some of them blush slightly, and a few laugh.

"Yah, yah, yah. C'mon Amara, I'll take yous ta Tibby's, where most of da meetin's took place.

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"These are amazing! Why haven't I been here before." Amara exclaimed as she grabbed a handful of french fries.

"Yah, aren't dey great. Yous shou'd 'ave seen it when we was on strike. It was a real blowout. Yah we 'ad some good times 'ere." Race told her.

"Really? Why don't you tell me about it. What happened here?"

"Dis is where we 'eld most of da meetin's. We fiost saw our picture in da pape 'ere and we sang about being da king of New York."

"I've never heard of that song. Will you sing some of it?"

"Course you ain't never hoid of it. I made it up." Race said matter of factly.

"Now I've got to hear some of it. Please, pretty please, Racetrack?" Amara practically begged him.

"Alright, 'ave some dignity. Umm, ahh, I wish I 'ad brought my 'armonica. Look at me, I'm da king of New York. Suddenly, I'm respectable, staring right at cha, lousy wid stature. Da da da dada dada dada da da da, and der I be ain't I pretty, it's my city, I'm da king of New York." He stopped after that and Amara smiled at him.

"Gads, your a pretty good singer. I didn't know you could play the harmonica. I want to hear you play it." She told him.

"Yous gettin' awfully demandin'." He informed her, which made her blush. Then she glared at him.

"Just remember that I am interested in what you have to say. I am practically making you immortal. Just remember that." Racetrack rolled his eyes.

"Tank's modda." They talked a bit longer and Amara asked him more questions. They were just starting to get serious when someone burst through the door.

Racetrack immediately stood up and got ready to fight. Amara looked at him, then narrowed her eyes at the boy who had interrupted them. The boy looked around the room and when he saw Racetrack, he headed straight towards him. Racetrack grabbed Amara's arm and hauled her to her feet. "Ow," she whined a bit.

"Sorry, but it's for your own good." He then stepped in front of her. The boy grabbed Racetrack by his collar and acted as if to punch him. Amara saw this and cried out. She needn't have worried because Racetrack socked the kid in the stomach. The boy dropped Racetrack and he took advantage of the situation by kneeing the boy in the groin, then knocking him down.

"C'mon we gotta go." Racetrack started pushing her in the direction of the door.

"We haven't paid the bill yet." Amara stated simply.

"We 'ave bigger problems." He continued to usher her out the door. Amara, however, had other plans. She spun on her heel and started digging through her reticule. Racetrack's eyes got real big and he looked around to make sure nobody was coming at them. After what seemed like an eternity, Amara left some dollar bills on the table and Racetrack practically shoved her into the street.

Once outside, Amara started questioning him. "What was that in there? Where are we going? Who was that?" Racetrack, still pulling her along, turned towards her and sighed.

"I ken explain it all, we just got ta keep movin' 'cause I'm sure 'e'll be comin' afta us, me." Even as he said it, the boy came rushing out the door. He locked eyes with Amara, and she realized that she was in danger too. Grabbing Race's hand she allowed him to drag her across the city.

We 'ave ta find a place ta 'ide, Racetrack thought. Amara ain't dat fast and she's gettin' tired.

I can't keep up with him. I'm slowing down, Amara thought. We are in so much trouble.

Racetrack led her down an alley, that suddenly opened up into a busy market place. Dodging people and other obstacles, Racetrack dashed down aisles, then he swerved to his left and ran into a building. Amara was completely dazed. She did not recognize anything. When they exited the building, she saw a river. Where are we, she wondered. Should I be concerned? I hardly know this Racetrack fellow and I have no clue where I am. Well, to late to change it, she concluded shrugging.

Racetrack wasn't exactly sure how they had ended up here, but he would count his blessings. He had a feeling they were still being chased but he would not take the risk to look back. "Where are we going?" He heard Amara pant.

"Just keep runnin', I 'ave an idea." Amara was starting to feel uneasy again, but she knew she had no choice. It was Racetrack or creepy violent guy, and given the choice, Amara would choose Racetrack every time.

We ain't gonna make it, Racetrack realized. The guy was gaining on them and they still had bit to go before the docks. What ta do, what ta do? Reaching a decision, he stopped abruptly.

"Run all da way ta da docks. Once der ask fer Spot Conlons. Tell 'im I sent cha. Go, I ken 'andle dis bum." After he shoved Amara in the right direction he got ready to fight.

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Amara had no choice but to keep going. She was extremely tired and short of breathe already, but she had to get help. Racetrack had been certain Spot Conlons would help, so she kept going.

Almost there, she thought as the docks came into view. At first she didn't see anything, then she noticed a group of teens at the end of one pier. Making a mad dash in their direction, she continued on. When she came to a halt when a group of boys blocked her path. Racetrack didn't say anything about this, she thought angrily.

"Please...I...need...Spot...Race...help." Amara panted, but the boys continued to block her path. By now Amara was getting angry. She didn't need to take this. Gathering her courage she ran at the group, who in surprise jumped a bit, but they didn't move and Amara ran into one, a big one. "Oomph" She cried as she fell. Her attempt only made the boys laugh and made herself cry.

"What's 'appenin' 'ere?" Came a demanding voice.

"Check it out boss, dis goil wants ta see ya." One boy answered.

"Oh, yeah, is dat a fact?" The leader said.

"Are you Spot Conlons?" Amara sniffled a little. He looked a little suspicious, but nodded anyways. "You have to follow me, come on quick!" She snapped when he remained stationary.

"Why?" He asked simply.

"Racetrack needs your help, come one, move." With that, Amara ran back the way she had come. At the mention of his friend, Spot started to follow after her. He saw in the distance a solitary figure surrounded by three guys. Now Spot Conlons knew a fight when he saw one and Racetrack was definetely in the middle of an unfair one. Running harder and faster now, Spot passed Amara, so he could help Racetrack.

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Well there is Chapter 2. Hope you enjoyed.

Amber