It was 2:46am. The bunkroom was filled with quiet snores and breaths from the other newsies. Maddy quietly got up from her bunk, fully dressed, and slid quietly through the room. She made her way down the stairs, pausing before the front door. She silently slid the deadbolt back and moved out the front door, closing it firmly behind her. Maddy disappeared into the night. One thing Maddy hadn't noticed was that there was another bed that was missing its occupant.
6:45am, July 15th, 1900.
"'Ey, Maddy, wake up!" Spot said, pulling the blankets off of the girls sleeping form. The other boys went about their business, knowing this was a routine that happened every morning.
"Would ya leave me alone? I don't wanna sell today!" came the muffled reply. Maddy's face was stuffed into her pillow, blocking the light out.
"Just get up, okay? I don't need this crap today." Spot grabbed her pillow and threw it on the ground. He then walked away, towards the staircase. Maddy's head stuck up, hair in wild disarray.
"Geez, what's his problem? Not like today is anything special." She quickly moved off of her bed and dashed into the bathrooms. She emerged a few minutes later, hair thrown up into a cap and face freshly scrubbed. She moved quickly down the stairs and ran out the door. Running the short distance to the distribution center, she wished for a few good headlines. Maddy slowed as she reached the wrought iron gates to the center. Spot was there, at the front of the line, like usual. She grinned and bounced over to him, hoping the walk had put him in a better mood.
"'Ey, have you seen the headlines yet?"
"No. And Maddy, I really don't think you should get to butt in the front of line when everyone else actually got their asses outta bed on time this morning." Spot said, quietly puffing on a cigarette.
"...what? I always do it. The boys don't care, do ya guys?" She turned and addressed the boys closest behind them.
"Nah, 'acourse not. You always do it, we ain't gonna stop you now." Patches, a short redhaired boy piped up.
"See Spot? They don't care. What's the big deal anyway? Just 'cause you got a stick up your butt this morning doesn't mean you gotta take it out on me." Maddy grinned.
"Shuttup Mad. I told you, I don't need to deal with your crap this morning."
"What are you talkin' about? What's so special about today that you think you don't have to put up with me?" The window to the office was opening up and the newsies were getting anxious.
"Fifty papes please. No reason. Just leave me alone, alright?" Spot extinguished his cigarette, grabbed his papers from the man behind the bars and walked off. Maddy stood dumbfounded, forgetting all about newspapers.
Later that afternoon
Maddy quietly strolled through the streets of Brooklyn. She stopped in front of a large red brick house. Laughter and music from a piano was quietly seeping through the windows and into the muggy late afternoon. The sun was about to sink behind the horizon, it's last vestiges of light shimmering off the river. She drifted closer to the house, curious about what was inside. She had seen this house everyday since she arrived in Brooklyn. Men would move quickly towards it and quickly away from it, their carriages rattling as they went. The house seemed to be alive with an emotion that Maddy couldn't place. Before she knew it, the front door had appeared in her sight and she raised a hand to the doorknob.
"Maddy!" It was the little boy she found on the stairs the day before. His eyes still had bruises around them and cuts were still present on his arms and face.
"Yeah?" She quickly stepped away from the door, moving towards the boy.
"Spot's lookin' for ya! He told me to find you right quick 'cause he has something he wants to ask ya!"
"Oh, so his highness finally thinks I'm worthy of his presence? How grand!" Maddy affected what she hoped was an aristocratic accent. The little boy just stared at her, eyes wide with confusion. "Alright, alright, I'm coming. Tell his highness that I'll be there as soon as I can. He can't just call for me at his will and expect me to come running." The boy nodded and ran quickly back in the direction he came from, towards the Lodging house. Maddy looked back towards the red brick house and sighed. She moved away, slowly following the boy back.
Twenty minutes later, she finally arrived at the docks. The other boys were getting ready for a night out, as it was saturday and there was no sunday morning edition of the paper. She found Spot at the end of the docks, his legs dangling off the edge.
"You gonna tell me whats going on with you finally?" Maddy asked, sitting beside him.
"You gonna tell me where you went last night?" Spot asked, looking over at her. She raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean? I didn't go nowhere last night, except to the bathroom to get some water."
"Don't lie to me Mad. Racer was up sick last night and he said he saw you leave as he was coming out of the bathroom."
"Well maybe he's so sick, he got crazy. I didn't go nowhere. Is this actually why you've been avoiding me all day? Because if it is, that's a stupid reason to ignore your best friend." Maddy said petulantely. Spot sighed.
"I ain't no dumbass, 'kay? You've left before. I've seen you. But you've gone too far. You can't just get up and go. What if you got kidnapped or killed or somethin'? What would I do then, huh?"
"You'd search until you found me and save the day, 'acourse. C'mon Spot, what's the big deal? Can't a girl have some secrets?"
"Not you. You're my second in command. What if you're sneaking out to go meet with other burroughs to plot against Brooklyn?" Spot said, standing up abruptly. Maddy looked up at him, anger in her eyes.
"Don't you dare accuse me of turning against you, against Brooklyn! This is my home. I ain't never leaving unless you leave, 'cause I'd follow you until the end of the earth! I can't believe you'd think that! You're crazy, you know that? Ever since the strike, you've been all paranoid, and I'm sick of it." Maddy was standing now, inches away from Spot's face. Her face was turning a deep shade of red, from anger. "You need to realize that you can only accuse so many people before they actually do start turning on you!" With that, she whirled away from him and stalked down the docks.
Maddy made her way towards the lodging house and bounded into the front door. Pushing her way through groups of newsies, she fled up the stairs, slamming the door of the bunkroom. Moments later, Spot ran through the door as well. As he reached the top of the stairs, the door flew open and Maddy stopped in the doorway. She had an old threadbare, canvas bag over her shoulder. She glared coldly at Spot and then pushed past him to go down the stairs. He moved in front of her.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I'm leaving. You don't seem to trust me much anymore, so I figure its time to find myself a new place to stay." Maddy said.
"You're joking, right? I trust you, okay Maddy? I don't actually think you would plot against me."
"That's funny, because you sure accused me of doing it!" With this, Maddy pushed Spot out of the way and went down the stairs. Spot threw up his hands, and quickly followed her.
"Listen, you can't leave, okay?" He reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders. "It's dangerous."
"Yeah, I'm real scared." She glared and pushed her way towards the door. Spot moved around her and put the deadbolt on the door.
"You can't. I mean it." He motioned for her to lean in towards him. Maddy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Seriously, Maddy. Come here. We need to talk." A curious expression appeared on her face. It was replaced by a worried look as she realized he was serious.
"About what?" Maddy whispered.
"Just... c'mon. Let's go upstairs." He turned and walked up the stairs. Maddy glanced around at the newsies that had gathered to watch. She gave them a small smile and followed Spot.
Once in the bunkroom, Maddy closed the door behind her. Spot was already sitting on his bunk, back to the small girl.
"Spot? What's going on?" She moved towards her best friend, setting her bag down on the bed as she went. She sat beside Spot, crossing her legs and facing him. His elbows were resting on his knees and his head was hanging. She tentatively reached out a hand to place on the back of his neck. He pushed his head up and looked her, anguish in his eyes.
"It's Manhattan. Someone's killing 'em."
"What? What do you mean?" She moved closer.
"Just what I said. Jack sent word this morning that he wanted to meet with us. So I went early before you woke up and saw him. Someone's been killing his boys. Just the little ones, the ones who don't know no better than to be outside in middle of the night. The bodies are always dumped on the lodging house steps, throats slit." Spot leaned sideways against her, finally having let go of his burden.
"Killed?" she whispered. "Who would wanna kill a bunch of kids? That don't make no sense." She looked down at his head, which was leaning on her shoulder.
"I know. That's why I was in a bad mood. I'm sorry for accusing you of all that, but I just dunno what to do. And hearing that you've been sneakin' out just kinda pushed me over tha edge." He pushed his head up, looking into her eyes.
"Did Jack ask for help?" She stared back, ignoring the hidden question.
"Yeah. He wants our help to catch whoever it is thats doing this."
"What did you tell him?"
"That I would talk to you first and we'd meet him tomorrow morning." With that, Spot fell backwards onto the bed. Maddy followed suit, laying beside him. "So what do you think?"
"I don't know Spot. I think we should let the boys know before we make any sort of decision. But we can't tell them now. Send a runner to Cowboy, and let him know we'll meet with him tomorrow afternoon instead. Let the boys have their fun for one more night."
"Alright. But what do we do?" There was a few beats of silence.
"We go to Manhattan."