Heya. Okay, two posts in one day! Wow, I'm good. Anyways, here's chapter two, which I wrote in church (not during church, just before it started.). So enjoy.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own the Newsies. They weren't under my Christmas tree this year.
Slowly, I came to consciousness. There was a circle of soft light high above me. The manhole. Funny, my mother always warned me about open manholes and looking where I'm going.
Feeling was slowly making its way back into my limbs. I wish it hadn't. I could tell I was hurt, but I couldn't tell how badly. Maybe I could still climb out. Groaning, I rolled over and pushed myself up on my hands and knees. I reached out for my satchel and cap and pulled them to me. Then, carefully, I started to feel for rungs to climb out.
My searching fingers were soon rewarded by the bite of bitter, icy metal as they collided with the rungs. I whimpered and grabbed hold. Climbing the frozen metal rungs, I dragged myself upward towards the light.
I finally reached the top, and with one final pained cry, I heaved myself onto the achingly cold pavement of the sidewalk. I lay there, panting in the cold night air. It was much colder than when I fell, I noticed. I wondered how long I had been out. My mother was going to kill me. If I ever get home. I'll just lie here for a little more…
The sound of running footsteps rang out, echoing off the sheer faces of the surrounding buildings. Coming my way. I was in too much pain to try to crawl out of the way. The footsteps drew closer and I closed my eyes.
Something struck the small of my back as someone went hurtling over me, landing with a grunt. The person scrambled to their feet. I expected them to continue running. Instead, I felt hands grab me under my arms, dragging me back into the darkness of an alley.
I stirred and groaned. A hand snaked out of the darkness to cover my mouth.
"Shh, kid!" a deep, heavily accented voice commanded. I caught a glimpse of a red bandanna through the darkness.
More running footsteps, much heavier this time. The person's hold on me tightened, pulling me against their body. I could feel their chest heaving and their perspiration dampening my shirt. The footsteps continued on past our hiding place.
The person next to me relaxed and released me. Without their support, my legs gave out and I slid to the floor of the filthy alley.
"'ey, kid. You'se okay?" the voice asked. I could only whimper. They crouched.
"Dat open manhole… d'ya fall down it?" the voice asked, crouching beside me. I nodded, eyes closed tightly and my breathing shallow.
"Can you'se walk?" I merely opened one eye to glare at the shadowy figure crouching over me. He just grunted and slung me over one shoulder. "'Ise dunno where you'se live, but I'se takin' ya home wid me." I just let my head hang down, my cheek pressed against his back. Darkness took over again.
The darkness thinned as we entered somewhere warm. Many voices chattered, asking questions, and making comments.
"Who's dat?"
"Where'd ya find 'im?"
"New pet, dere?"
I was laid down on something that felt like a thin mattress, and a thin blanket was pulled over me. The darkness thickened once more.
I finally woke again. I sat up against the head board, rubbing the back of my neck.
Oh, my head. I must have gotten hammered last… wait. Where am I?
Through my barely opened eyes, I took in what seemed to be a bunk room. Bright winter sunlight streamed in through the windows. There was a scratchy grey blanket covering me. I picked up the edge of it, and rubbed it between my fingers. Wool. So where was I?
There was a red bandanna hanging on the bed post at the foot of my bed, and loud snores emanating from underneath. I leaned out to look over the edge. I ended up over balancing, and toppling to the floor, six feet below.
There was a startled grunt and a loud thunk! as whoever it was sat up into the top bunk. That was followed by a long string of curses. Hmm… creative curses. The person finally stopped and looked over the edge of their bed, where I was squirming on the floor making pathetic I'm-in-pain noises.
"Huh. You'se awake." I recognized his voice from last night.
"Yeah." I snarled.
"Feisty little thing, ain'tcha?" He commented as he reached over to grab the collar of my shirt and drag me off the floor. Once I was on the bed beside him, he stuck out his hand.
"Jack Kelly, newsie." He offered with a friendly smile. I just looked at his hand suspiciously. You wouldn't blame me, if you woke up to find that you were face to face with someone claiming to be the lead of a play that you had just performed. "Youse shake it." He said, breaking my reverie. I blinked and took it.
"Charl—Charley. Charley Bennett." I said, giving him the masculine version of my name.
"'ow old are ya, Charley?" He asked. He ducked out from under the top bunk and stood, grabbing his pants off the foot of the bed. I looked away.
"'leven." I mumbled. I didn't know what was going on, or where I was, or who he really was, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to play along until I knew. I felt myself slipping back into character.
Jack finished tucking his shirt in and finished doing up his pants.
"You'se gotta family, Charley?" He asked, leaning his forearms on the top bunk and looking under it at me. I wasn't sure what to answer so I just shrugged. He nodded, apparently satisfied with my noncommittal answer.
Jack walked away and started to leave the room.
"Er, Jack?" I asked softly. He stopped and looked back. "Where am I?"
He smiled. "You'se at the Manhattan Newsboys Lodging House. C'mon." I motioned for me to follow. I padded barefoot down the hall after him.
Jack entered another door. I stepped in. It looked like a washroom. Jack stepped over to what could have only been a spittoon, and started to undo his pants. I squeaked and darted out the door. I could hear Jack laughing from the hall as he did his business.
"It's okay. I'se decent. Ya can come back." He called when he had finished. Blushing furiously, I slunk back in.
"Here. Pump for me, would ya?" He motioned to a water pump that was set at the end of a large trough. I came over and started to work the pump.
"So, Charley," Jack wet his hands and made a face. The water had to be freezing. "'ave ya ever sold papes?"
My mind scrambled for a reply. While I had never actually sold papes, I had hawked them in the play. Lord knows I was loud enough to be heard over the bustle of New York, but I never have had to make up headlines.
"Y-no. Nah, I 'aven't." I stuttered.
"Awright." Jack declared as he took over the pump from me so I could wash up. "You'se wid me today."
I mutely nodded and splashed my face with the frigid water. When I was done Jack handed me a towel and explained,
"We'se too late for the mornin' edition, since you was passed out, 'nd I stayed back to watch you. But we'll just catch the afternoon edition, and be on our merry way."
"Okay." I agreed, trailing him out of the washroom.
"Don' worry!" He drawled "You'se learnin' from the best in New York!"
Okay. So if some of the dialogue seems like I misspelled it or forgot a letter, I didn't. Maybe a little on accident, but a lot of the ending consonants are either dropped completely or changed. It takes a little while, and if you have a hard time reading it, try saying it out loud. I have to do that to write it, and my family's looking at me like I'm insane. Only a little, guys, I swear. And I know it's still short, but it's triple the length of the last one.
Yeah, you know the drill. Thanks!