Authors Note:

First of all, I'd like to thank everybody for their reviews. I'm trying to make Polly as little of a Mary Sue character as possible, and I'm glad that I am succeeding so far.

Now, it is important for me to tell you that I am trying to stay as close to real History as possible, so I might leave the movie plot a bit to stay closer to what really happened during the strike. On another note, I did a lot of research on the Bowery for this section, so almost everything I say about it is true. There was a James DeLancey farm (sorry for my characterization of the Bowery DeLanceys) surrounding the Bowery street and McGurk's Suicide Hall and craze did exist in 1899. Just a little history lesson for you before you read this chapter.

Polly's Story

None of the Newsies really knew where Polly would go after visiting Tibby's with them. She'd never eat anything and would always leave at the exact same time. It just became what she did. The boys would often notice her becoming skinnier, and see her skin begin to pale on certain days, but they never talked about it. They assumed it was something they just couldn't understand properly because they were boys.

Jack came back to the Lodging House with Racetrack right before the door was closed. He always seemed to have perfect timing like that. The due walked up the stairs into their dorm and sat around a circle of fellow Newsies who were playing Poker.

"Why weren't you at Tibby's today, Jack?" Kid Blink was the first to ask while picking up a new card.

"That new kid, David, and I got into a bit of trouble with Snyder," Jack answered, looking over his shoulder to see his cards. Blink swatted him away as Crutchy placed down a card. Mush, who wasn't playing, folded his arms and leaned back a bit.

"That's why he looked mad," Jack looked pointedly at him, asking what he meant through his face. Racetrack noticed this first.

"Nah, just something Polly told us," Jack nodded to himself.

"Have you ever wondered where she always heads off to?" he asked the group. They looked at him with confused looks.

"Who, Polly?" Blink voiced. Jack nodded. "A Lodging House, I guess," he shrugged. The boys shrugged their approval of the answer. After a few more rounds of cards the boys went to bed, none of them knowing what would happen the next morning.

They jacked up the price of newspapers that morning. All of the Manhattan Newsies were sitting around Jack, asking him what to do. The decision - to strike. After getting all of the boys riled up about it using David's words, Jack sent them all to different parts of New York City to persuade other Burroughs to join The Strike. Mush went to the Bowery. Dutchy, knowing that the Bowery was a largely Dutch area, followed automatically. Polly tagged along also, as she had not been sent anywhere. The two boys seemed indifferent.

Specs, Skittery and Bumlets were all sent to Queens together. Queens was not far from Manhattan, but it felt like a long way for all three boys because of their topic of conversation.

"You know, you can talk to me Specs, it ain't like I'm going to bite you or anything," Skittery said angrily after a long period of silence. Specs continued walking silently on the other side of Bumlets, who was extremely confused about all of this. "Specs, come on!" Skittery prodded, waiting for some sort of answer.

"Look, I don't have nothing against you, I just don't feel like saying anything, alright?" Specs said simply. Bumlets looked at both of them and shrugged, still standing in the middle of the feud. Skittery let out a loud sigh of anger.

"Hey, you asked me to tell you what was up, and I did. Sorry you didn't like the answer!"

"Well, did you really expect me to?" Specs was getting angry. "God, Skittery, what's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? I didn't do anything!"

Specs' pace was getting faster and faster, making the others speed up with him. Bumlets was still keeping the two boys from each other. He looked at both in the silence, until Specs spoke to him.

"Hey, Bumlets, what do you think about this?"

"About what?"

"Oh, you haven't heard everything from Specs?" Skittery asked him with a great amount of spite in his voice.

"No," Bumlets replied.

"Skittery has decided that he doesn't like being a Newsie anymore," Specs said, surprisingly loudly.

"Specs, just stop, alright. It's not that I don't like it…"

"You just got a 'better offer.' Yeah, yeah…"

"What are you trying to say?"

Bumlets heaved a heavy sigh as the two boys fought through him. It was going to be a very long day.

Mush, Dutchy and Polly were making their way to the Bowery, a place that was often called the slum of New York City. It was a street-like area of Manhattan filled with immigrants, mainly Dutch. It was also filled with the homeless, making it a breeding ground for Newsies.

"Where do you want to go first?" Mush asked Dutchy quietly while they were making their way towards the Bowery. Dutchy shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. We can try their Distribution center, but it's a bit late for anybody to be there right now," Mush nodded at this answer for a moment, until Dutchy continued. "There might be a few Newsies hanging around the shopping area."

The boys walked from the Harlem river into the street. It was here that they found their first obstacle: getting past the James DeLancey farm. The DeLancey's, who we met earlier, had a strange hate for Newsies and for people who they felt didn't belong. They were all extremely prejudiced against anybody below them, whether by race or gender. This was a large problem for the three Newsies.

They stopped at the beginning of the street, looking on the left side of the road to see the farm. There were workers right out to the edge of it, some of whom had already started watching them. Dutchy, who had been leading the group, was the first to walk forward. Polly started slowly after him, then Mush followed on the right side of the two. The DeLancey's had Dutch blood in their family, starting from the first immigrants to the Bowery, but it was those beside Dutchy that bothered them. They managed to make it half way past the farm when two young workers put down their rakes to speak with them.

"You heading somewhere," the first asked them. The other stood beside him, created a barrier in their way. Dutchy reached out his hand.

"My name is Dutchy, and this is Mush Meyers," the two boys took his hand and shook it firmly in turn. Mush, however, didn't move his own hand when he was introduced.

"And the girl?" the second worker asked, eyeing Polly.

"That's Polly," Dutchy replied. The worker placed his hand in front of her his other hand searching for something in his pocket.

"That's not what I'm here for…" she muttered softly, holding her arm firmly at her side. The worker pulled his hand back and placed it in his other pocket, an angry look on his face. Mush and Dutchy tried to ignore the conversation, not wanting to become a part of it.

"That's too bad."

"What are you here for," the other asked quickly, facing Dutchy.

"We need to get into the Bowery," he replied, trying to use his matter-of-fact voice.

"To do what?"

"The Newsies are going on strike," Dutchy was more defiant now.

The two workers looked like they wanted to hear some elaboration on the subject of the Strike, but were called by a boy who seemed to be their boss. They looked back, yelled a few curse words, and began to leave. They motioned for Dutchy, Polly and Mush to continue their journey, but not without yelling one final comment at Polly.

"Hey, when you get in there, McGurk's is just around the corner from the Distribution Office!" They laughed at their joke for a moment and went back to their jobs.

"Don't worry about them," Polly said to Dutchy, who had begun to turn back. "It doesn't matter to me."

Dutchy nodded to himself, glared at the workers for a moment, and began to continue towards the Bowery. "Follow me," he said. When they got deeper into the Bowery they found themselves in a large shopping area. There was a book store, a grocery store, and a few scattered restaurants and dress shops, including McGurk's. McGurk's was nicknamed McGurk's Suicide Hall - it was a place many dark women went to in order to live up to the name of the place. Polly looked at it oddly for a moment, wondering why no police ever went to stop the craze. They didn't want to get involved, even though everybody knew what was going on just inside the walls.

"We should split up," Mush suggested when they got to that part of the street. He eyed a group of darker skinned Newsies and left to go talk to them. Dutchy began to walk towards a group just outside of a clothing store. He looked back at Polly.

"We'll meet back here at two o'clock," he told her. Polly simply nodded and gave a little wave. She looked around curiously, almost hoping that she would see a giant group of female Newsies that she could persuade. Needless to say, she did not succeed. She felt around in her pockets for some money, and took a long look at McGurk's. Mindlessly, she took a few steps toward it, each one carrying her closer. She did not go in, but instead looked into the window. There were mostly men there, but further back a young lady was paying a man four bits. He took her hand and led her up a tall staircase while she cried. Polly gasped and turned around, running far away from the restaurant. A young boy stopped her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in his New York accent.

"Are you a Newsie?" she questioned worriedly, without answering.

"Yeah…what's it to you?"

"There's a Strike…they raised the prices-" she began.

"I know, I know, the papers, right?" he motioned her along. She simply nodded to him.

"The Manhattan Newsies are starting a Strike against the World. Try to…to pass the word along," he told her would and began to leave, not bothering to say goodbye. Then he wheeled around.

"You're a Newsie too, right?"

Polly was about to answer, "Sort of," but instead decided on,

"Yes."

"I hope you weren't planning on going in there…horrible place, that McGurk's, absolutely awful things they're doing in there," he looked pensive as he spoke to her, she simply kept her head towards the ground.

"Of course not," she answered. He looked at her. He knew.

"I have to go," Polly finally told him quietly. He nodded and left her.

He knew.