I do not own Newsies or any of the Newsies characters. To the best of my knowledge they are owned by Disney.
I am making no money from this story.
SLASH. Jack/Oscar Jack/David
A/N: This story was written for Lady of Tir Na Nog in honor of her birthday.
This story has not been beta'd. I hope that any rough patches will not be too distracting.
Chapter 9 – A Chance to Be Happy
Jack was awakened by the sound a something hitting the park bench. "C'mon, Kelly. Will ya wake up already?"
Jack opened one eye and saw a policeman's uniform and a fist wrapped around a nightstick. He jumped up still half asleep and fell flat on his face.
"Are you drunk or somethin', Kelly?" The officer asked, pulling Jack up by the arm.
Jack looked up and recognized the officer's face. "Damn, Nolan. I didn't know it was you. I woke up and saw the uniform and thought I was being arrested or somethin'"
"You must've been pretty drunk to have passed out like that. You looked like you were dead. I thought that you'd finally made someone angry enough to kill you," he laughed."
"I'm not drunk. I always sleep like that. I'm just hard to wake up is all."
"Well, what the hell are you doin' sleepin' out here anyway? Did you get yourself thrown out of Kloppman's place?"
"Nah. I ran into an old friend and we got to talkin'. Before I knew it I'd stayed out past curfew, and you know how strict Kloppman is about locking that door. I figured that it would be better to sleep here than to risk getting him mad by trying to sneak in through a window or somethin'."
"Well, unless you wanna lose out on a day's pay, you'd better get your ass movin'. That circulation bell is gonna ring in about forty-five minutes."
"Shit! Thanks, Nolan. I owe you one," Jack said as he grabbed his hat and ran toward the World Building.
Jack got to the gate just as David and Less arrived. "What happened to you," David laughed. "It looks like you slept in your clothes last night." Then David took a closer look at his partner's face. "Did you get any sleep at all, Jack? You look terrible."
Jack took a few pennies out of his trouser pocket and gave them to Less. "Do me a favor, pal. Run over to the bakery. The one two blocks over, and across from Klein's Pharmacy. Get us each a doughnut. I didn't have breakfast today and I'm starvin'."
"But there's a bakery right across the street. Why don't you get something from over there?" David asked.
"Cause I like the doughnuts from the other bakery, Dave!"
"I don't mind goin'," Less huffed, giving his brother a sour look. "I'll be back before you know it."
"Okay, Jack," David said when his brother was out of earshot. "You were obviously trying to get rid of Less, so tell me what's going on."
"I wanted to talk to you alone, Dave."
"Jack, are you feeling alright?" David asked putting a hand on his friend's brow.
"I'm fine, Dave," Jack said, pushing his hand away. "But I need to talk to you about something."
"What's that hanging out of your pocket?"
"What?"
"This," David said reaching into Jack's jacket pocket. "Since when does a cowboy need and Indian headband?" David chuckled.
"Gimme that!" Jack snapped, grabbing the headband back from David. When he shoved it back into his pocket he felt a folded piece of paper. Jack knew that his pocket was empty when he left the basement. His stomach knotted when he realized that Oscar must have come by and slipped them into his pocket while he was sleeping. He drew out the paper and stared blankly at its crisp folded edges.
"What's wrong?" David asked, taking a step forward.
Jack waved him away without looking up. He turned his back on David and unfolded the paper.
Cowboy,
I realized this morning that we can't go back again. Too much has changed over the past year. We're not the same people as we were back at Grandpa's place. You have a new life and a new family and a new best friend. New York is your home. You are where you belong. I was living in the past, but I can't do that anymore. It's time I made a life for myself.
I will always remember Grandpa's house and our time together. I will always remember when you were a part of my family. I know that you love me, Cowboy. But I also know that you love David.
If you left with me, you would eventually realize how much he means to you, and you would want to come back. If I stayed here, I couldn't stand to see you together.
It's time for me to find a new place to call home. New York isn't my home anymore. Everything that made it my home is not gone.
I love you, Cowboy. I will always love you.
Chief
"What's wrong, Jack?" David asked, reading the panic in his face.
"I've gotta go, Dave. I'm sorry, but . . . ." Jack didn't finish the sentence. He turned and ran toward the Delancey's apartment building.
Jack ran up the stairs two at a time until he reached the second floor. He banged on the door frantically calling for Oscar. Finally, the door swung open. "What do you want, street rat," Morris spat.
"Get outa my way, Morris or so help me, I'll kill you." He pushed Morris out of the doorway and charged inside calling Oscar's name. He stormed from room to room opening doors and then slamming them shut. "Where is he, Morris!" Jack shouted as he grabbed Oscar's brother by the throat and slammed him against the wall.
"He ain't here, Kelly. He packed a bag and took off about an hour ago."
"You're lyin'! Where the hell is he?"
"I told you he's gone! He said that he'd finally had enough of this city and it was time that he got the hell away from here. I thought that the kid took off with you, but I guess that he's got more sense than I gave him credit for."
When his fist hit Morris' nose, Jack could feel the crunch as it broke. "I asked you where he went!" Jack said waving his fist in Morris' face.
"I told you I don't know!" Morris snorted and choked on the blood from his broken nose. "He didn't tell me where he was goin', he just left!" Then Morris' eyes sparkled and his mouth curled into a satisfied grin. "He obviously didn't tell you either. I guess the kid finally got smart and saw you for the lyin' fagot that you are."
"You son-of-a-bitch!" Jack shouted as he rammed his fist into Morris' stomach. "This is all your fault. You and that sick bastard old man of yours!"
Morris clenched his stomach and gasped for air. "You're the sick bastard, Cowboy. You're the one who turned my brother into a stinkin' queer."
"You bastard!" Jack shouted hitting Morris in the ribs. "Why couldn't you just leave us alone? He's your brother for Christ sake!"
By now, Jack was punctuating each sentence with another blow to Morris' body.
"You beat him, and you made his life miserable every minute since Grandpa died. You let your ma waste away until she finally went crazy and died from her misery. You and that bastard father of yours made Oscar's life a living hell!" Jack hit Morris once more then dropped his beaten body to the floor.
Morris grunted and gasped for air as he pulled himself up onto one knee. He struggled in a breath as he held his broken ribs. "Well, it was all worth it," he mumbled through the blood and saliva dripping from his swollen lips. "He's left you, Cowboy. He finally sees you for the sick bastard that you are . . . . I win."
"I should have done this to you years ago," Jack said calmly as he hit Morris one final time.
Jack ran down the stairs and out into the street. He paced madly in front of the building not knowing where to go. "Damn-it, Chief," he mumbled. "Damn-it! Where the fuck are you? . . . . A city! He said that he was a city boy and wanted to live in a city. . . . But which one?"
Jack quickly ran the options through his mind. Oscar could have gone to the docks and boarded a ship to Boston, or he could have taken a coach to any of the cities. A coach was the least expensive way to go, but it was also the slowest means of travel. Then Jack remembered the money that Oscar had saved in the cigar box. He'd saved enough that he could take a train to wherever he wanted and still have a little left over for expenses. "The train," he whispered, as he rushed to the station.
Jack ran to the first ticket window he came across. "I'm lookin' for a kid," he said breathlessly.
"Yeah?" the man answered.
"A kid about my age. He's short and he was wearin' a bowler hat with a feather in the band."
"Sorry, kid. I and seen 'em."
"He woulda been buyin' a ticket for a big city like Chicago or Boston or someplace like that."
"Sorry, kid. I said I ain't seen 'em," the ticket agent said before he slid the door closed on his window.
Jack went from ticket window to ticket window asking if anyone had seen Oscar. Finally, one man called to Jack through the bars of his window. "What's the problem, son? Has this kid done something wrong that you want to find him?"
"No . . . . No, he ain't done anything wrong. He's my friend. He's my best friend. I wanna tell him not to go. I wanna tell him that he needs to stay here with me. I wanna tell him that if he's gotta go then I'll go with him."
"I'm sorry son. I haven't seen your friend, but I just started my shift about thirty minutes ago. Maybe your friend bought his ticket before that. Do you know where he was headed?"
"He woulda gone to a city. Chicago, St. Louis, Boston, or someplace like that."
The ticket agent pointed at the departure and arrival schedule behind Jack. "The last train for St. Louis left at 3:15 this morning," the agent said.
"No. He couldn't have gone on that one. It woulda been within the last hour."
"Well, the last train for Boston left an hour ago, and the one for Chicago left about forty minutes ago. I'm sorry kid. If he was on one of them then your friend is well on his way."
"Jack's stomach sank, and he thought that he might get sick. "Thanks," he said in little more than a whisper. Jack made his way out of the train station asking every shoe-shine boy and newsie that he could find if they'd seen Oscar. When he'd asked everyone that he could, he left the station and headed out for the docks and the coach line.
The ticket agent watched as Jack walked toward the door, and then he noticed a figure step out from behind a large column near the schedule board. Oscar eyes followed Jack until he disappeared through the main entrance. He took a tentative step forward. He wanted to call out Jack's name and run after him, but he didn't. He couldn't.
Oscar looked up and saw that the man at the ticket window was watching him. His first instinct was to run, but instead he took a deep breath and went to the window.
"Let me guess," the man said. "You want to buy a ticket to a big city. Boston or Chicago maybe?"
"Yes sir."
"You know that your friend is pretty upset. He really wants to find you and keep you from leaving."
"I know," Oscar said, looking back to where he'd last seen Jack.
"Do you want to tell me what this is all about, son? You aren't running away from something, are you?"
"No sir. I guess you could say that I'm runnin' to somethin'. I've got nothin' to keep me here, so I figured that it was about time I moved on. I wanna make my mark on this world and I figured why not do it in a new city."
The man looked Oscar over carefully. It was obvious that he was old enough to make the decision to move away and live on his own, but his small frame and the moisture accumulating in his eyes made him look very young and helpless. "I have a son your age," he said as looked into Oscar's eyes. "I know that his mother and I would be heartbroken if he took off and left us on a whim."
"I'm sure you would be."
"Well, what about your family? Have you thought about how they will feel if you go away?"
"I ain't got any family. My ma and my grandpa are both dead."
"What about your father?"
"If he ain't dead or in jail then he should be. He took off a while ago. I saw him stab a kid one day. The kid didn't die or nothin'. But my old man was sure tryin' to kill him."
"And you have no other family here in the city?"
"I don't have any family anywhere. Whatever family I had is long gone by now."
"And what about your friend? He sure wants you to stay."
"Yeah. But he's got his own life and his own family. He doesn't understand that I want that too. I deserve the chance to have that too, don't you think, mister?"
"I suppose you do, son." The man wished that he had some words of encouragement or comfort that he could say to Oscar, but nothing came to mind. "So have you decided where you want to go to start this new life and find your new family?"
"I'm not sure. What's the next train you got leavin' for a big city?"
"Take a look at the board behind you, son. Just pick a city and we'll have you on your way before you know it."
Jack checked the coach lines but nobody there had seen or noticed Oscar. The agents all said that they hadn't sold a ticket to anyone that young in days.
Trying not to lose hope, Jack headed for the docks.
Oscar sat on a bench and watched the clock that stood in the middle of the station. There was still almost an hour before his train was scheduled to leave. Time seemed to be moving slowly as he sat with the train ticket to his new life in hand.
The man from the ticket counter kept an eye on Oscar in-between customers. Once the young man boarded the train he would be on his own, but until then, he would remain under the watchful eye of the agent.
Oscar opened his cigar box and sorted through its contents. He took the money that he'd saved and separated it into three piles. He put some in his trouser pocket, some in his shirt pocket, and some in his boot the way Grandpa had taught him. Then Oscar turned his attention back to the cigar box. He smiled a bit as he took a last look at the remnants of his life.
"Hey, son!" the ticket agent called from his window. "Are you watchin' the time?"
Oscar looked up at the clock and realized that he'd been lost in his memories for almost an hour. He took Jack's bandanna from the box and spread it out on the bench. Very carefully, he placed his mother's picture and Grandpa's eyeglasses in the middle and tied them inside of the bandanna. He placed the bundle into his satchel and tossed the box into a nearby trashcan. Oscar took a deep breath and raced to the ticket window. "I wanna thank you mister for . . . . Well, for talking to me and all."
"Good luck, son," the man said, sticking his arm under the window bars to shake Oscar's hand. "And don't forget that New York will always be here if you ever want to come back."
"I know. Bye mister!" Oscar called as he ran to the platform for his train.
Jack had searched the docks for anyone who might have seen Oscar. He found that two ships had left for Boston that day, but nobody fitting Oscar's description was seen boarding either one. Jack worked his way back through the streets to the coach lines and on to the train station. All along the way he asked newsies and street vendors if they had seen his friend. The answer was always the same. . . . No.
Jack stood looking at the tall board listing the train arrivals and departures. He scanned each destination wondering if that was where Oscar was headed.
"I figured that you'd be back," a voice came from behind. It was the ticket agent. He'd been sitting on the bench reading a newspaper. "I've been waiting for you since my shift ended. I wanted to tell you that I saw your friend. He's gone."
"Where did he go? How long ago did he leave?"
"He left a couple of hours ago. But I can't tell you where he went."
"Whadda you mean you can't tell me?"
"I can't tell you because I don't know. And I don't know because I didn't want to know. I figured that you would probably be back and that I would be tempted to tell you where he'd gone, so I made him buy his ticket from another window. And don't bother to ask the other ticket agents because they won't tell you. It's against the company rules to give out any information about its passenger's destinations. All I know is that he departed sometime around 4:00. We had a 4:00 to Boston, and a 4:15 to Chicago."
"Damn-it!" Jack shouted. "When do the next trains leave for them places?" he asked, desperately looking at the schedule board.
"What are you going to do, son? You don't know where he's gone. You can't flip a coin and pick a train to go after him."
"What the hell do you know?"
"I know that he wants to start a new life. And I know that he's going to miss you very much."
"How do you know that?"
"Because he told me. He said that he didn't want you to know where he was going because you would try to go with him. He said that you had a family and a life here in New York and that he deserved to have the same thing for himself. He said that he needed to go away to try and find a life and a family of his own."
All of the strength drained from Jack and he began to sway.
"Sit down before you fall down," the man said.
Jack sat on the bench and rubbed his hands roughly over his face trying to rub away the tears that were threatening to fall.
"He left this behind," the man said handing the cigar box to Jack. "I saw him take some things out of the box then he tossed it into the trash. Curiosity got the better of me, and I had to see what was inside. If your name is Cowboy there is something in there that I think you'll want to read."
Jack opened the box and looked over the few remaining items. There among the marbles, Oscar's blue ribbon for arithmetic, and assorted odds and ends was a yellowed piece of paper. Jack had seen it last night when he was picking up Oscar's mementoes from the basement floor. He didn't think anything of it at the time.
"Go ahead and read it," the man encouraged.
Jack unfolded the paper and smiled. It was a composition that Oscar had written in school. There was a big B+ at the top of the paper. Oscar always was good in school, he remembered.
What I want to be when I grow up
By Oscar Benedict Delancey
I'm not sure what I want to be when I grow up. A fire man maybe. But I want to be strong and nice like my Grandpa Connelly. And I want to have a house in the Bronx like he does. It will be big and white like his. And it will have a big swing in the back yard too. I want it to be near the woods like Grandpa's house. And I will live there all the time not just once a month like when we go to see him now.
And my friend Cowboy will come there and live with me all the time. We can go for walks in the woods every day. Sometimes we can even sleep in the backyard and look up at the stars if it is warm enough. Mama and Grandpa can come and visit with us and even stay to live if they want. But Morris and Papa can't ever come.
Someday me and Cowboy are going to visit Santa Fe and see the dessert and the mountains cause that's what he wants to do. But after we seen it we will come back to the Bronx because that will be our home. Me and Cowboy and Mama and Grandpa will be a real family and me and Cowboy will live in my house until we are old like they are.
The end
"Here," the man said, handing Jack his handkerchief. "If you care about your friend like I think you do then you will let him have the chance to be happy. Now why don't you go home to your family and get some rest. It's been a long day, son."
Jack put the letter back into the box and closed the lid. "I - - um . . . .Yeah. Thanks, mister."
It was about midnight when Jack arrived at the Jacobs' apartment building. He climbed the ladder of the fire escape and somehow wasn't surprised to find David waiting.
"What are you doing up so late?" Jack asked.
"I was waiting for you. I figured you would be by sooner or later. Do you want to go up on the roof where we can talk?"
Jack just nodded and continued his climb.
Jack sat with his back against the chimney and pulled his knees up to his chest.
"That looks good," David said, sitting down next to him.
"What?"
"The Indian headband. It looks good tied around the crown of your hat like that."
Jack removed the hat and ran his fingers over the old beads. "Look, Dave. I know that I owe you and explanation, but . . . . "
"Does this have anything to do with a Chief?"
"Whadda you know about Chief?" Jack asked angrily.
"Nothing really. It's was the night that the strike ended, and Mama talked you into staying the night here with us. It was so hot that that she let us come up on the roof to sleep. You were snoring to beat the band, and then you started talking in your sleep. You were having a nightmare or something because you kept calling for the Chief. You were yelling 'Come back, Chief! Don't leave me!' I tried to wake you up but you kept on calling for this Chief. Then I shook you really hard and you rolled over and started snoring again."
"Look, Dave. I know that you won't understand, but I'm gonna ask you not to push this Chief thing. I want you to trust me and not ask about this again."
"If that's what you want," David replied in a very dissatisfied tone.
"I'm sorry, Dave but I made a promise years ago not to tell anyone about this." Jack leaned against the chimney and chuckled. "Actually, it wasn't a promise as much as it was a blood oath. I broke that oath once. I ain't gonna do that again. Not for you or anyone."
"Sure, Jack," David said. He realized that this was something very personal and deeply emotional for Jack. "A promise is a promise. I won't ask you about it again."
"You're aces, Dave. Most guys woulda pushed for an explanation."
"Well, I am not most guys," David chuckled.
"No, your not," Jack said leaning over and resting his head on David's shoulder. "Dave, would it be okay if you and me stayed up here tonight? I don't want to go back to the lodging house, and I don't really want to be alone."
"Sure, Jack. Whatever you want."
Jack spent the night curled up in David's arms and actually managed to get some sleep.
David, however, didn't sleep. Each time Jack became restless and called for Chief, David was there to stroke his hair and hold him tight and comfort him.
Oscar sat in the train looking out the window into the darkness. His chest became tight as fear flooded his mind. He was beginning to think that he had made a mistake. He fumbled through the satchel he held in his lap until he found the bundle he'd tied back at the train station. Oscar felt the warn cloth of the bandanna and his apprehension eased just a bit. He rubbed the ends of the bandanna between his fingers and soon his breathing returned to normal. He took comfort in the bundle and in the feel of the cloth against his skin. Eventually, he fell into a deep and restful sleep. Oscar didn't know what lie ahead, but he knew in his heart that he'd made the right decision.
The End
Thanks for reading. As always, your reviews will be greatly appreciated.
A/N: Yes. This is the last chapter of this The Cigar Box.
I want to thank everyone who stuck with me and who took the time to read and review this story. And thanks to Lady TNN for being so patient in waiting for the completion of her birthday story.