Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original Newsie characters.
"Eh! After your done der, make sure you muck out stall two!" the stable manager called after him. Danny barely heard him as he walked over to rusty old water pump. Once more, he pushed the handle up and down, water gushing into the metal bucket.
He slowly picked up the heavy bucket and carried it over to another stall. Grimacing, he looked at the empty bucket that hung on the stall doors. He really didn't have the strength to pick up his bucket of water and then dump it into the empty bucket. He pondered what he should for a moment. An idea came to mind. Danny quickly took the empty bucket off the hook and then replaced it with the water filled bucket.
"Now why didn't I think of that before?" he muttered to himself, taking the empty bucket back over to the water pump. After all the buckets he had refilled, he had never once considered this option. Just as he was switching another bucket full of water for a empty bucket, Danny heard the sound of voices approaching.
"I get my money back!"
"Why would I do that?"
"Because it's the rules!"
"Oh, so you have a rule book now, eh?!"
He caught glimpse of man leading a limping horse towards the stable and an angered boy trailing after him.
"Racetrack," Danny whispered to himself with swallow, recognizing him. In haste, Danny threw the bucket down, the water splashing everywhere. He made a dash for the ladder that led up to the hayloft. He clambered up the ladder, reaching the top right before Racetrack and the man entered the stables. Danny jumped behind a tower of hay bales, peaking out every so often to look below him at the two persons.
The man led the horse into a stall.
"I'm sorry, but there is no rule that requires me to give you your money back!" the man said, very annoyed.
Racetrack huffed and leaned against a stall door with his arms crossed.
The man left the stables shortly after, leaving Racetrack alone with the wounded horse.
"Wait!" Racetrack cried, stopping the man. He turned.
"Do you happen to know if a kid named Danny still works here?" he asked, a hopeful look lighting his face.
Danny's eyes went wide, ducking behind the bale. Had Racetrack seen him?
Danny didn't hear a reply right away. It was as if the man was mentally going through the names of people who worked here.
'Please, please, don't remember me,' Danny thought pleadingly.
"Hm, maybe. Is he a short thing?" the man asked. Danny imagined him scratching his head.
"Yep," came Racetrack's short answer. Danny looked around the hayloft quickly, planning an escape in case Racetrack came looking for him.
"Yeah, we have a boy named Danny. Think he's come in every other day or so. Does the odd jobs, ya know?"
"Ah. Thanks," Racetrack replied. Danny could hear a smile in a his voice. The sound of retreating footsteps convinced Danny that the man had left.
He took a swift look down at the floor. Racetrack was no where to be seen.
Danny sighed with relief, relaxing against the stiff bale. What did Racetrack want with him?
As he climbed back down the ladder, he came to the conclusion that Racetrack still wanted to get back at him or else Jack wanted Racetrack to spy on him.
After all, once you thought about it, Danny really was the cause of this disagreement between Spot and Jack. No doubt Jack would want to know where he was and Racetrack would more than likely spy for his leader. But how would Racetrack know that Danny had left the Brooklyn newsies so soon?
He meandered over to the water pump, his left hand gripping another bucket. He stared at the contraption for a moment.
His mind was whirling with new thoughts and ideas. He couldn't hide from the Manhattan newsie group forever. No, he couldn't be afraid of them forever either. And with Brooklyn on his side...who could stop him from doing what he wanted?
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Later that afternoon, when the sky was gray and overcast, Sarah exited the apartment building. She didn't care what Mama said or what David predicted about the weather, she was getting out of that room and taking a walk. Her back had been bent over lace all morning and the apartment was growing humid in the late summer heat. Besides, she needed some thinking time.
Sarah went in the opposite direction of the newsboy's lodging house and tried to stick to the main roads. She wanted no chance of running into any newsboy of Jack's, much less Jack himself. None the less, she heard the voices of old and young boys hawking the dramatic headlines as she picked her way through a busy road.
Sarah soon realized she couldn't even begin to think in a place as hectic as this, so she decided to make a turn down a fairly large alley way. She knew that strangers and dangers lurked these places, but it was still daylight and she could only see a couple of boys playing with some dice. As she went further into alley, the noise was muted and she could finally process some thoughts.
Nathan was coming over again tonight. Mama would probably cook up something delicious from their small amount of provisions. Even though they didn't have a lot of money, Mama could always keep company. That was one trait from her Mama, along with many others, that Sarah wanted to carry over into her own marriage.
Turning down another alley bend, Sarah's feet stopped cold.
"I bought it! It's mine!" A little colored boy cowered in a dark alley corner while an older boy was taking threatening steps towards the boy. Sarah could barely see a loaf of bread in the small hands.
"You stole it," Sarah could hear the boy say, although his back was turned to her. The smaller boy let out a whimper, his eyes darting around the area for a way of escape. As the the older boy was about to snatch the bread, the boy's eyes landed on Sarah.
"Help!" he screamed and dodged the teenager's hands. The older boy turned to see who else was in the alley, but Sarah was faster. She had grabbed a piece of splintered wood and now had it raised in the air. Without thinking twice, as the boy turned, she slammed the flat wood on the boys head with all the strength that possessed her, along with some added adrenaline. The boy, surprised, stumbled back on the ground. Sarah let out a breath, dropped the wooden board, and looked around for the small boy. He was no where in sight. Seeing the boy wasn't entirely as unconscious as Sarah had hoped for, she quickly turned on her heel and ran down the alley. Her fear began to increase as she heard pounding footsteps following her. She threw a glance over her shoulder and saw the boy tagging after her while rubbing his head. Sarah drew in a sharp breath and increased her speed. She picked up her skirt while she turned down another alley. A group of older boys crowded in this alley and Sarah plucked up all her courage to force herself through them. She ignored their disturbing comments and whistles while pushing them aside. Once she had passed the boys, she looked back to see if the boy was still following her. She couldn't pick him out among all the other boys, but she kept running. Running until her legs felt like they would give out from under her. Past alleys, past boys, past little kids, past cats, past garbage, and past homeless adults in doorways she ran. Deeper and deeper into the maze of alleys she found herself. She didn't even know what part of Manhattan she was at now. Finally she dared to look behind her once again. He wasn't there. No one was. Suddenly, she felt something catch on the toe of boot. Before she knew what was happening, she had tripped and fallen to the cobblestone ground. Her head hit the alley floor was a heavy thud. Pain echoed through whole body. Looking up, she was face to face with the boy whose was about her age.
"Gotchya," he whispered with a grin that showed a full set of grimy teeth. Sarah squeezed her eyes shut at the stench of his breath. When she opened them again, he was gone. Breathing heavily with fright, exhaustion, and pain, she tried to sit up. Her ankle hurt like crazy and when she tried to stand, she collapsed right back to the ground. She let out a moan of pain and relaxed on the alley floor.
"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she said to herself in angry volumes, pushing a hand up her forehead. Why had she went for a walk down the alleys? What had she been thinking? She rubbed her head as she tried to push herself up again, but to no avail.
"Can't walk and I'm stuck in this stupid alley," Sarah muttered under her breath. She leaned against a brick wall for support. Then suddenly, the clouds let their rain fall. The small droplets on Sarah's face quickly turned to a pouring onslaught.
Having read one too many books, Sarah cried with her face lifted to the sky, "Why me?!" Her salty tears mixed with the rain as it continued it's downfall. She had to get back to the apartment to help Mama with dinner. But how? She couldn't walk and no one would ever find her in the mess of New York City alleys.
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Earlier afternoon, when the sun was still blazing brightly and the market street was jammed packed, Kid Blink was standing on a dilapidated barrel while practically screaming the headline. The kid had a pair of lungs that came in handy on busy days like this. There was so much bustle in the street that Blink felt like he had to get another barrel to stand on. Although he often wore out his lungs on these kind of days, he sold a lot of papers. They were going so fast that Kid Blink barely had time to yell out the headline while collecting pennies. After a pair of customers had just walked away, Blink shouted the words once more. And then once more. He frowned. Where had those eager buying customers gone? Blink continued with his hollering for a good five minutes. Only one person approached him for a paper. He looked down the road when he thought he heard another boy calling out the headline. It was a different, better title. His fists balled up. Who was selling on his street?
With a very irritated expression, Kid Blink raced down the other side of the street where a small group of customers had gathered around one newsie. He couldn't see the boy.
"Hey!" he called. A few of the people barely turned to glance at him. Blink shoved his way past them. The boy, who had only a handful of papers, briefly glanced at Kid Blink with a wicked smile. He quickly hid his face with his hat. Blink thought he looked familiar.
"This is /my/ selling spot!" Kid Blink nearly shouted in his face. The boy ignored him while collecting the last of his pennies. Kid Blink was about to do something drastic when the newsie suddenly took off at a run down the road.
"You run!" Blink hollered after the escaping newsie. "Don't you come back!"
He didn't bother to chase after him, due to the fact that he still had a few papers to sell. Kid Blink spit on the ground before marching back over to his barrel.
"He must be new to the whole biz or else he wouldn't of done that..." he muttered to himself. "If I ever see that rat at the World Distribution Center, I'll tell him something about selling spots." Blink climbed back onto the barrel in a foul mood. Calling out the headline, his steady stream of customers soon returned.
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It was the feeling you got when you knew someone was watching you that made Mush turn to look behind him. No one was there. At least, no one that looked like he was watching Mush. Shuddering, he tried once more to sell his papers. He couldn't shake the feeling though. Someone was watching him, but why? When he turned to look again, he caught a young boy peeping over a barrel and watching him. When he realized that Mush had seen him, the boy quickly ducked behind the fat wooden object. Mush frowned. He walked over to the barrel and looked behind it. The boy wasn't there. Shrugging, he went back to his spelling spot. Just as he was about to hawk another headline, something small and hard hit him squarely between the shoulder blades. He yowled in pain and quickly spun around to catch the attacker. He only saw the boy, who had been looking at him, running down the street in mad speed. Mush caught a glimpse of a slingshot in his small hand. He cursed under his breath, but didn't pursue the kid. After all, he could handle a stupid prank. Mush kicked a old crate out of the way in frustration as he went to pick up the papers he had dropped. Since when had his reputation dropped so low that a mere kid could pick on him?
"I should of gone after him," Mush muttered to himself. But it was too late now and he needed to finish selling.
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That afternoon, after Race had finished selling off all his papers and he had spent some time wandering around City Hall Park, he hesitantly decided to head for the Brooklyn Bridge. There was supposedly a big race going on tonight and Racetrack really didn't want to miss it. Especially since his favorite horse was participating. Although his wanting to attend a race didn't usually present itself as a problem, tonight it did. He didn't know if Danny would be there or not. And he didn't know if he would run into Spot or not. He wasn't that worried about Danny. In fact, Racetrack had quite a few things to say to the kid. But Spot...Well, Racetrack really didn't want to see Spot tonight.
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It was a long walk, as it usually was, but Racetrack was finally near the end of the bridge that broke off into Brooklyn. He walked over to the edge of the bridge one last time, looking down at the calm river below him. Racetrack dug into his pocket and grabbed a rock he had taken from the park. After he had thrown the rock down with his might, he watched it until he couldn't see it anymore. He barely heard the splash that rock made when it entered the water. It was a long drop... Racetrack shuddered and walked away from the rail. He dodged a wagon as it was heading down the bridge.
At last, he put his own two feet on Brooklyn ground. Humming a song, he began walking down Water Street in order to reach Everit. He was so absorbed in his own thoughts that he hadn't realized the two guys who had been following him until one of them tapped him on the shoulder. Racetrack, startled, turned around quickly. His surprise didn't fade when he realized they were Spot's newsies.
"Yes?" Racetrack asked. He pretended to be annoyed by scrunching up his nose and brushing off his shoulder.
"Whadda ya doin' in Brooklyn?" one of them asked gruffly. They were big boys with shoulders built like a heavy wooden box. All Spot's boys seemed to be bigger than Spot himself. Racetrack took off his hat and scratched his head.
"Gee, I dunno, I thought I'd catch a race tonight. Whadda about you guys?" Racetrack asked in a pleasant and casual tone. The boy with suspenders that looked too small took a threatening step forward.
"We're here to keep you out," he snarled, pushing Racetrack back in the direction of the bridge. Racetrack resisted and pulled away from the guy.
"Hey, you don't own Brooklyn. And I got rights from Mr.Teddy hisself that says I can come and go as I please," Racetrack said stubbornly and began to walk again. One of the boys grabbed him by the shirt.
"I don't care what Roosevelt says. I got my orders from Spot," the boy hissed in his ear and threw him back towards the bridge. Racetrack stumbled on the ground, but regained his balance before falling on the cobblestone. Race glared at the boys. They crossed their arms and gave him a look that dared him to make another move. Grumbling under his breath in defeat, Racetrack bent down to pick up his hat and then reluctantly turned back to the bridge. He couldn't push Brooklyn any further, or else Jack would just have another reason to slit Racetrack's throat.
"Don't come back till your wuss of a leader apologizes!" One of the boys called with a triumphant chuckle. Racetrack looked over his shoulder and shot the boys a glare. He jammed his hat on his head and cursed as he began his long walk back over to Manhattan.
Why hadn't he thought about this? Of course, Spot wouldn't let him in Brooklyn, much less near Sheepshead Bay. The Brooklyn leader knew Racetrack too well. Spot knew how to push his buttons.
"Of all nights..." Racetrack muttered to himself, spitting over the bridge and into the water below. Jack had to go and talk to Spot again. Racetrack would have to go to Sheepshead sometime. The lousy track in Manhattan just wasn't as exciting or big as the one in Brooklyn.
A/N: Sorry if you got confused with the time in this chapter. It has to be that way for the next chapter.
Thanks for the reviews! I always look forward to them!