-Chapter 4: The World Will Know-

-Newsie Square-

-22 March, 1899-

Race point of view

I lean back against a stack of papes When I see Davey and Les come into view.

"Sorry we're late. We had to help our mother with something."

I take my cigar out of my mouth and raise an eyebrow at Davey.

"You got a mother, huh? I've always wanted one of those."

Johanna laughs bitterly. "Whaddya do with the one you had?"

"He sold her for a box of cigars." Finnick chimes in.

I stand up and push him by the shoulders. "And they was Corona."

Davey looks at us like we're the worst people to ever walk the earth. Then Finnick decides to steal my cigar.

"That's my cigar!" I protest. Finnick grins broadly.

"In the wise words of Mr. Jack Kelly, 'You'll steal another.'"

Johanna takes the cigar from Finnick's hand and gives it back to me. "You promised Jack. Oh, look! The headlines are up!"

Everyone turns and sees it; Newsie Prices Raised to Sixty Cents per Hundred.

"Wow. I guess Katniss Everdeen wasn't kidding." Finnick remarks. Whatever that's supposed to mean. "Jack! Look what it says!"

Jack pushes his way to the front.

"It's one big hoax. It ain't real."

He strolls up to Wiesel and smacks down his fifty cents.

"I want a hundred papes."

Wiesel chuckles. "Now that, that's gonna cost you sixty."

Jack gives a short laugh. "I ain't paying no sixty." He says scooping up his fifty cents.

"Then make way for someone who will!"

Jack glares at Wiesel for a minute or so before smacking both hands on the box and walks to the wagon.

"They don't have a right to raise the prices." Finnick says.

"Well we do got the right to starve. I say we hit the streets while we still got the chance." Crutchie argues. Finally, the new kid, the nine year old with parents, what's his name, pushes me back.

"Stop crowding him! Let the man think!"

After about three seconds, he says "hey, Jack, you still thinking?"

"Sure he is! Can't you see smoke?" I mock. Jack turns his glare on me while Finnick laughs.

"Shut up and get over here." We all crowd around him again. "If we don't sell papes, no one sells papes. No one will replace us."

"You mean like a strike?" the other new kid asks.

"Well you heard Davey, we're on strike!" Oh. So that's his name. Chaos erupts, some of us agreeing and some of us disagreeing. I won't say what I think.

"You can't go on strike. You aren't a union."

"What if I says we are?" Jack argues.

Davey rolls his eyes. "You need a lot of things to be a union. Like membership."

"What do you call these guys?" Jack asks like Davey is an idiot. I smile and wave and the rest of us do the same.

"And officers-"

"I nominate Jack president!" Crutchie yells.

"Finnick for vice president!" I hear Johanna say.

"And a statement of purpose."

I stand on an overturned crate and raise my hand, taking the cigar out of my mouth "what's a statement of purpose?"

"A reason." Davey answers.

"What better reason do we need?"

…..

-Katniss point of view-

-the pub-

I am sitting peacefully drinking when a crowd of about twenty boys come in all in an uproar. Something about newspapers. No, not newspapers, they call them 'papes.' that's what Jack called them last night.

My suspicions are confirmed when I see Finnick bringing up the rear. The newsboys fill up all the tables. I end up sitting in between a crippled boy and a girl who looks about my age.

"I hope you don't mind, but we'll be organizing a revolution." She says. "I'm Johanna, by the way. And that's Crutchie."

"Okay. I'm Katniss. Do you know where Jack and Finnick are?"

"Here." I turn and see both boys. "I guess you were right. They raised the prices a tenth of a penny." Jack says. "We're on strike."

He stand on the table and yells.

"Newsies of Manhattan! United we stand," he pauses. "That's a quote. Someone write that down."

A little boy says he has a pencil.

"Meet our secretary of state! Anyway, we need to spread the word!"

"I got Harlem!" Race says, first to volunteer. Johanna takes Flushing, Romeo takes The Bronx, Specs takes Queens, and Tommy Boy has Woodside.

"Okay, who wants Brooklyn?"

The remaining newsboys slump forward, causing me to laugh. Jack glares at me.

"Come on, Brooklyn!" No one volunteers. "Spot Conlens' turf. Finch! You ain't afraid of Brooklyn, are you?"

A boy, Finch I guess, stands. "I ain't afraid of no turf, but the Spot Conlens makes me a bit skittish."

Jack rolls his eyes. "Fine. Davey, Finnick and I will take Brooklyn." Finnick shrugs, but Davey immediately protests.

"Why is everyone so scared of Brooklyn?"

Everyone turns to the direction of her voice and the girl that I guessed was Pulitzer's daughter is standing there.

"What are you doing here?" Jack asks. I guess they've met.

"Asking a question."

Jack explains "Anyway, for someone who works for the Sun, you've been spending a lot of time with the World. What's up with that? You following me?" He says playfully, hiding behind Finnick, who punches him for no reason.

"The only thing I'm following is a story. Can you give me one? A modern group of David's take on Goliath."

"Yeah. How about we save that story for a real reporter." Finnick says.

"Come on just let me-"

"Hey, what's the last article you got into the papes?"

"Hey, what's the last strike you organized?"

The newsies erupt in oohs. Real mature.

I stand up from my spot next to Johanna.

"Wait a minute, Jack. Don't dismiss her so quickly. Do you see anyone else giving you the time of day? If you want the world to know you're on strike, then what better way than through a pape."

Jack hesitates for a minute before saying

"Fine. You want an interview? Meet me at the circle tomorrow morning, and bring a camera. You're gonna want to snap a picture of this!"

They all cheer. I get up and sit next to Finnick.

"Hey." I say.

"Hey. That was pretty impressive. No one's talked back to Jackie in years. He needs someone to tell at him from time to time."

I have a feeling I won't be going back to the Academy with two more kills under my belt.