"Down 'ere, Spot!" Skittery grabbed his arm, yanking him behind a building. The two young newsboys peeked around the corner, waiting until their fathers walked by before venturing back onto the streets. They'd left two months ago, and had settled nicely into the routine of being newsies, but every couple weeks they'd see one of their parents down the street and have to hide.
A few weeks ago their mothers had shown up at the lodging house, giving Lawrence a sob story, but luckily for them Lawrence had remembered their condition when they came in and lied through his teeth to protect the two young cousins.
"Dis is getting' ridiculous," Spot muttered, kicking at the cobblestones.
"Well if ya like we's can go chase after 'em and go back ta dat hell hole," Skittery shot back, already on edge.
Spot glared at him and made a snide comment under his breath, which Skittery chose to ignore.
The pair trudged back towards the lodging house, keeping their eyes peeled for their parents like they learned to do over the past couple of months. Skittery opened the door and walked up to the desk where Lawrence was asleep with his boots propped up. He had his bowler cap pulled down over his eyes, even though some of his blonde hair was escaping out of it, and he had his muscular arms crossed over his chest. He resembled a gang member more than he did a keeper of a newsboys lodging house, but underneath his rough exterior he had a huge heart and cared about most of the boys like they were his own.
Skittery cleared his throat, and Lawrence opened one eye into a slit, smirking when he saw the young boy shifting nervously in front of him. "Hey little man," He slid the book across the counter, as Skittery dropped twelve cents into his palm.
He watched s the young boy's brow furrowed in concentration, trying to remember how to write their names. Lawrence had been working with them, teaching them how to read and write, along with the few other young newsies. "Two tees," He gently reminded the young boy, who cheeks flushed, as he squeezed another 't' into his name.
He slid the book back, mumbling a thank you, and Lawrence watched the two clomp up the stairs. They had yet to take the time to get to know any of the others, but Lawrence knew it wasn't because they were unfriendly. No one had really gotten the story out of them about where they'd come from, and what had gone on, but it seemed they'd been through it together, and Lawrence thought it was kind of cute the way Skittery seemed so protective over Spot. They both seemed unwilling to let anyone else into their lives, though, and kept to themselves. It was rare to see them not side by side, and even rarer to get either of them to talk any more than necessary, even though they whispered to each other constantly.
A slam of change on the counter, and a grunt for the book broke Lawrence out of his thoughts, as he glanced across the counter to see Bull. Bull was always telling stories and was basically full of it, but he meant no harm, for the most part. He wasn't the nicest of guys, but he wasn't out and out mean, and he didn't cause any issues around the lodging house, so Lawrence put up with Bull's bull as best he could.
Chance joined them at the counter, his signature grin decorating his face as he threw an arm around Bull's thick shoulders. "So how'd ya make out taday, Bull?"
"Ain't much of a headline," Bull grumbled in response, shoving the book to Chance, and ambling towards the kitchen.
Chance's smile didn't waver, and he made eye contact with Lawrence. "Dat boy don't know how good he got's it." He commented, spinning a penny on the counter, before flicking it towards Lawrence. Lawrence rolled his eyes at Chance's antics, catching the penny before it fell to the floor, and holding his hand out for the other five cents.
"You's ever not in a good mood?" He laughed, taking the nickel Chance tossed.
"Now what's da point in wastin' time on a bad mood?" Chance had been at the lodging house before Lawrence had taken over when his uncle died. The two got along pretty well, seeing as Lawrence was only seven years older than Chance's sixteen. "Skittery an' Spot get back okay?" He asked Lawrence.
"Yup, about five seconds before you an' Bull came chargin' in. Dey's upstairs."
Chance nodded thoughtfully, before slapping the counter. "Well I'mma grab me a beer an' go see bout losin' all me money ta Spades." He sauntered towards the common room, settling himself at the crowded table, about to join in the game when he heard a knock at the door.
"Who da hell knocks round dese parts?" He questioned out loud, but went to open the door anyway.
Two men stood on the other side, evil glares covering their faces. "We's lookin' for our sons." The darker haired one stated, attempting to push pass Chance.
Chance, however, not one to let himself be pushed around in his own domain, blocked the door, refusing to let them enter. He may not have had a lot of weight on him, but he was deceptively strong, and well over six feet tall.
"Well what are dere names, if ya don't mind me askin'?" He raised his eyebrows, waiting on a response.
"Henry and Robert," The man sneered.
"Well I's sorry ta disappoint you gentleman, but I can't recall a Henry or a Robert stayin' 'ere," He gave a fake apologetic smile, and started to close the door.
The man who seemed to be in charge shoved his foot in before the door slammed, though. "Well maybe you's got a Skittery or a Spot."
"Nah, dat don't sound familiar either. Hey Lawrence, we's got a Skittery or a Spot signed in ta da book?" He yelled over his shoulder.
Lawrence made a big show of looking through his book, before closing it, and looking up. "Nope, sorry, you's outta luck 'ere."
"Mind if I see dat book ya got?" The man tried again to shove past Chance, and was again shoved right back.
"Ya know what, we's answered ya questions, an' dat book ain't public information. I'mma hafta ask ya gentleman to mosey along now," Chance shut the door locking it, but not before the man yelled about what a mistake he was making.
Chance squared his shoulder, marching up the steps, where he saw Spot and Skittery cowering at the top. "C'mon, you's two. Me room," he went to reach down and help Spot stand but Spot jerked away like he was going to hit him. "Hey dere, kid. I ain't gonna hurtcha. C"mon."
The two trailed after him, hesitantly sitting on the bed he motioned at.
Chance leaned against the wall across from them, tossing his cap onto the dresser, and running a hand through his hair. "Either a ya wanna explain what's goin' on? I don't mind lyin' for ya, but I t'ink I have a right ta know what's goin' on, don't I?"
Skittery looked down at his boots, shrugging his shoulders, and Spot scooted behind him, hiding, unconvinced they weren't in trouble.
Chance took a step towards them, faltering when he noticed the terrified look in their eyes. He inched his way forward, crouching in front of them. "I ain't gonna hurt you's, ya know dat. I jus' wanna know how worried I should be. Were dose men ya fadders?"
Skittery nodded, sneaking a glance up at the older boy, trying to determine if he was trustworthy. "Sorry."
"Whaddya sorry for, kid? Ya didn't do noin' wrong," Chance reassured him. He threw an uneasy glance towards the door, deep in thought, before making up his mind. He didn't trust the men not to try to break in during the middle of the night. "Listen, I'mma let da two a you's sleep in me bed tonight, and I'm gonna make up a bed on da floor for meself, an we's gonna have us a sleepover, all right? Dat sound fun?"
Spot nodded eagerly behind Skittery, and Skittery just shrugged again. "Yeah, okay, I guess."
Chance pasted a fake smile on his face in place of his normal cheery grin, telling the boys to go get ready for bed, as he headed back downstairs.
"Bull, Spades, Razz, Sweets, office. Now." Chance barked out a command, causing the three newsies to abandon their card game and join him and Lawrence at the desk. "I don't want anyone new in dis house for da next couple weeks. Dat includes girls," Chance shot a pointed look at Sweets, "Newsies from other boroughs, an' new kids. An' I don't want da two a dem sellin' alone neither." He gave the small group a hard stare, waiting to make sure they understood his point.
Lawrence nodded in agreement. "Chance is right, I didn't like da looks a dose boy's fadders."
"Dey's bunkin' wid me 'til further notice, also, so tomorrow, Bull, I want ya ta help me drag a bunk in me room."
Bull nodded, and Spades, Sweets, and Razz nodded also, indicating they understood his earlier instructions. Chance surveyed the group one last time, before turning and muttering something about going to bed, as he drug himself back up the steps. Lawrence retreated into his bedroom, telling the boys to wrap it up and go to bed, shutting his door with a click.
The four left behind exchanged a look. They'd never seen Chance so tense, so they knew to take him seriously. Spades walked back to the table, packing away his cards, and for once Razz had no desire to tease anyone.
Chance walked in his room, surprised to see just Spot sitting on the bed. He couldn't recall seeing one of them without the other ever before. "Whatcha doin', Spot?" He asked, joining him on the bed.
"Noin'. You's ain't gonna make us go back home, is ya?" He asked, looking up at Chance with his big, steel blue eyes.
"Nah, kid. Dis is you's home now," He reached over ruffling Spot's hair, who ducked away and swatted at his hand, not pleased with being treated like a little kid. "C'mon," Chance pulled back the covers, motioning to Spot, who glared at him, but got underneath them just the same.
Skittery stood at the doorway, watching Chance and Spot, still unconvinced that Chance or any of the other newsboys they'd met were trustworthy. They'd seemed nice enough, but Skittery had seen his parents act like saints before when it suited them. He had learned long ago, though, that worrying didn't fix anything, so he walked the rest of the way in, climbing into bed, and turning over to go to sleep without so much as a word to Chance.
He laid in bed awake for awhile, until he heard the unmistakable sounds of his sleeping roommates, then he crept out of bed, and down the hallway, towards the stairs. He skipped over the third and ninth steps which creaked loudly, and glanced around before he opened the door, stealing out into the night. He fingered the knife in his pocket, resting heavily against his thigh, as he cast wary glances at the shadows, his mind running amok with thoughts of what might be hiding in them.
He quickened his pace, but still headed towards his destination. A few monsters hiding in the shadows weren't going to stop him on his mission. He walked down the familiar streets, taking the short cuts through the alleyways, anxious to get there and get back. He stopped in front of his parents' apartment; gazing up the staircase, suddenly second guessing himself. He found the window, four up and three to the left, that went into their living room, and noted with satisfaction that there was no soft glow of light escaping, signaling they were all passed out inside.
Gathering up his courage, he took a deep breath, and placed a hand on the rail to begin the hike, when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. Skittery whirled around, knife in his small hand, ready to stab first and ask questions later. The tall figure in front of him had other ideas, though, and plucked the knife from his hand expertly, and then grabbed Skittery, shoving a hand over his mouth to muffle his scream. Skittery bit down as hard as he could.
"Christ! Dat hurt!"
"Chance?" Skittery breathed a sigh of relief, staring up to see the older boy who was holding his hand and glaring at him.
"Yeah. What da hell are you's doin' out 'ere at dis time a night? Do you's 'ave any idea how unsafe dis is?" Chance lectured Skittery.
Skittery glared back and reached out grabbing his knife from Chance. "I hafta take care a soin' 'ere, den I's come right back ta da lodgin' house, 'kay?"
Chance shook his head, gripping his upper arm and dragging him away. "No, not okay, kid. You's can't go in dere and do what I t'ink you's plan on doin'. Let's go."
Skittery yanked himself free from Chance's grasp and walked purposefully back towards the stairs. Chance couldn't help admiring the young boy's perseverance, but he didn't want him to do anything he might regret, or worse yet get himself killed. So he picked up and slung him over his shoulder, ignoring the pounding of small, clenched fists on his back, which continued the whole way back to the lodging house. Chance opened the door, locking it behind him, and deposited Skittery on the couch in the common room.
"Am I's gonna hafta lock you's in da bedroom at nights, kid?" Chance was trying very hard not to raise his voice and yell at Skittery, out of fear of not only waking the whole lodging house, but scaring the young boy.
That didn't seem to be a legitimate fear though, because Skittery stood up, pointing an accusing finger at Chance. "Dis ain't none a ya business! You's ain't me fadder!"
"Yeah, well, seein' as I's met your fadder, I's gonna take dat as a compliment. Go ta bed," Chance commanded, walking in the kitchen for a beer.
Skittery ignored him completely, and sulked on the couch instead. Chance glanced out at him from the kitchen, and leaned against the counter, wondering how to handle the situation. He knew he hadn't earned either of the kids trust enough for them to listen to him, but how was he suppose to protect them if the second he went to sleep they tried to sneak out?
Chance watched the ceiling fan slowly rotate around and around, as it knocked back and forth looking ready to fall at any moment. Everything in the lodging house was falling apart. Just last week one of the guys top bunk had broken and fallen onto the kid sleeping below him. No one had been hurt, but Chance could only imagine that fan crashing onto one of the younger kids. He reached up, yanking the chain so it slowed to a stop and stopped making him nervous.
Draining the beer in his hand, he threw the bottle out and went back in to sit next to Skittery.
"So what was da plan, dere?" He asked, even though he knew full well what the plan had been.
Skittery looked over at him, the haunted look in his eyes belonging on someone much older, and his tone of voice bitter and blunt. "Kill da bastards."
Chance opened his mouth to respond, but heard the frightened voice of Spot calling for Skittery in a panic drifting down the steps. Skittery shot off the couch, taking the steps two at a time, with Chance close at his heels, fearing the worst.
Spot was sitting up in bed, sweat soaked sheets pulled up to his chin, unshed tears shining in his eyes, and his chin quivering.
"What? What's wrong?" Chance demanded, seeing nothing out of ordinary, but still tense, ready to attack if needed.
Skittery threw an impatient look over his shoulder at Chance, as he sat next to Spot, putting an arm around him. "He has nightmares."
Chance relaxed his stance, and left to get a glass of water since Spot had gone from about to cry to looking pissed at Chance for catching him like that.
Skittery murmured a reassurance to Spot, attempting to settle him back into bed. Chance silently handed Spot the water which he chugged, then crawled back under the covers, falling back to sleep instantly. Skittery laid down next to him, and shot yet another look at Chance, who was leaning against the door frame, instead of laying down. "What?" He growled at the leader.
"I'mma wait right 'ere, 'til you's fall asleep," Chance explained in a smooth voice, raising an eyebrow, daring Skittery to fight him on it.
Skittery huffed and turned his back towards him, grumbling until he, too, was fast asleep.
Chance took his sheet off the floor, laying it over top of the two sleeping boys, and then laid on the floor, wide awake and worrying all night long, listening for the tiniest of sounds and ready to spring.
AN Okay first off, sorry for the ridiculous amount of time between updating this, but I am writing 4 different stories, and I work full time, and have a kid, and am having some stuff going on in my family. But I hope the next update will be sooner.
Also, I thought you might all like to know why I chose Henry for Skittery's real name. When I first saw this movie, way back at the tender age of nine, sitting in the movie theater, I remember getting an insta-crush, on the guy who woke up saying "I didn't do it!' that Kloppman referred to as Henry. Tooke me a couple years actually to realize it was Skittery, not Henry. (Remember kiddos, the internet wasn't that big back in the early 90's!) As for Spot's real name being Robert…I can't explain it, so I won't try to. First name that popped in my head.
Okay, so feel free to review, and to check out the story that this is the prologue to, The Vampire and The Newsie.