Cassie's Santa Fe Adventure

- By ShoeGoil

DISCLAIMER Newsies is the property of Disney. But I am the property of myself. I know I am an interesting person, so I don't blame you for wanting to put me in your stories. Please ask for permission, so I can make sure that you are my friend, otherwise I don't want a story written about me. Um, yeah. I am also the owner of the name ShoeGoil. That is my name. Do not steal my name. I am cool cuz that is my name. Thank you. I luv you! (in a non- david/denton way, of course!)

DISCLAIMER'S DISCLAIMER So you found this story, huh? Let the author now warn the reader that the story (and the first Disclaimer) were written when the author was 16. She is now 24 (assuming it's still the year 2006).

Part 4

I followed Jack out of the inn and down the street to the train station. "What kind of work do you do here?" I asked him.

"Anything dat needsta be done," he answered matter of factly. "Sellin' ticktets, luggin' suitcases, fixin' holes in da' roof." He grinned. "Dey pay me pretty good, all dese great tips!" He handed me a bucket, and gestured for me to get on my knees.

"They why haven't you left yet?" I asked as I started to scrub the floor. He sat down next to me, to do the same.

"Well, I fugured dat if I's gonna get ahead in New Yawk, I bettah have some extra money."

"So the same thing doesn't happen to you like when you got here?" He nodded grimly. It was quiet for a bit, as we were each in our own thoughts, and then I suddenly blurted out: "Jack, how long will it take for us to raise enough money to get out of this place?" He looked up at me and squinted his eyes like he was thinking.

"Let's see. Um, probly about three weeks. I mean, now dat youse hea, we got twice the amount of people woikin' so it won't take so long." I groaned.

"Three weeks? This won't work at all! I don't know if I will last here for three days. There has got to be some other way."

"What do you mean?"

"We gotta pick up speed, Jacky-boy. Are there any other places hiring around here? Can we get another job, so we can earn up twice the money in half the time?"

He shook his head.

"Aw, Jack, you didn't even go look. Now, I am sure I can find a way for us to get some more money..." Jack started laughing, and I looked at him, confused.

"Youse so funny, Shoe. Ya just barely got a job scrubbin' floors, an' already youse lookin' fer promotion!" He laughed some more, and even though I didn't think it was the least bit funny, I joined in, because when he looked so funny, and it was hard not to laugh.

Finally, the laughter subsided, and I said: "Jack, I was serious. We gotta think of something."

"Why are ya so werrried 'bout gettin' outa hea'? I's da one dat gots all da friend back home. Youse just comin' along fer da ride." I thought about the fact that New York had always held my attention, and I thought about the fact that I was dying to meet the newsies, and then I thought about the fact that I hated the Santa Fe heat.

"It's too hot in Santa Fe, Jack." He grinned in agreement. "Now, anyways, we gotta think of another job. What are you good at?"

"Sellin' papes, improvin' da truth, runnin' from Snyda' an' da' Dalancy's." Hmm... this was getting us no where. I had to think back to the movie and decide for myself what he was good at. Well, he was good at kissing Sarah, but that wouldn't help us. He was good at drinking Sasparilla (yah, that's what they call it!) but that wouldn't help either. He was good at climbing down fire escapes, dodging fists, getting a few extra seconds of sleep than all the other boys. He was good at all kinds of street smart stuff. Then it hit me. He could sing. He could dance. And wasn't this the height of Vaudville!

"Jack? I got an idea."

"What. We's gonna shine shoes?"

I shook my head at him. "Nope, our job is even better. We're gonna become a Vaudville act."

"WHAT!"