Chapter Six
Hitting the floor is not the way you wanna wake up in the morning. I looked around to see if I had woken anyone up when I fell outta the bed, but I hadn't. Picking myself up off the floor, I made my way to the wash basin. I pumped the water as quietly as I could and started washing. Please please please don't let anyone come in. Luckily no one did.
After I washed, I grabbed the clothes I had picked out and put them on. As soon as I pulled my shirt over my head, Kloppman was yelling for the boys to get up. Good thing I'm dressed…
I thought the boys would rush outta bed so they could get dressed and get their papes, but they all just laid there. I walked back in there and looked at them.
After about a minute of looking at all of them, I realized they weren't going to budge. Alright, I guess we're gonna hafta do dis da hard way. I clapped my hands and yelled at them. "Okay, get up you lazy bums! The presses are rollin'! Get up!" I pushed one of them off the bed and yanked the covers off of another.
Someone groaned, "What are ya, me mudder?"
"No, but you're damn well gonna listen ta me like I am. Now get up."
They all started climbing outta bed and I stepped out so they could get dressed. I walked outside and sat on the lodging house's steps. I could hear the boys yelling and carrying on. It got quiet and then there was a rumble of laughter. I rolled my eyes. Only boys could find something to laugh at this early in the morning.
About ten minutes later, they all came marching outside. One of them kicked me in the back so I grabbed their leg and made them fall. Laughter. Soon, Jack came walking out the door and pulled me to my feet. Behind him were Crutchy, Racetrack, and Specs. Crutchy went to walk down the stairs, stumbled over his crutch, and fell. Lucky for him, I broke his fall. I, on the other hand, didn't feel so lucky.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Are ya okay?" Crutchy asked me concerned.
I helped him up and brushed myself off. "It's okay. Don't worry 'bout it. Not your fault. I'm fine. Really, I am."
The other guys were laughing and I did an unfriendly hand gesture.
"Oh, ha-ha that is so funny," I said, my voice oozing with sarcasm. I walked past them and started going to the distribution center. The boys caught up with me and passed me in line. I pushed them outta the way and got back in my spot. I was almost to the front of the line. I was not about to let them pass me.
"So you're back. Fifty papes?" asked Weasel.
"Nah, I want a hundred."
He gave me a funny look. "A hundred? Ya sure ya gonna be able ta sell dat many? You're just a girl after all."
I glared at him. "Just give me da papes," I said with a voice as cold as ice.
"Yeah, just give her da papes," several guys said, including Jack and Race.
Weasel rolled his eyes and rubbed his prickly chin. He ran his hand through his scraggly hair, took my money, and got the papes. I snatched them from him and marched down the stairs, walking straight outta there. After a few minutes of debating, I decided to go to Coney Island.
"Extra Extra! 'Fire of Inferno Catches the West Side'! Big Story!" I called out. Five more buyers. I sat down for a bit to rest.
"Flash! Hey, Flash! We need ya!"
Hey dat sounds like Jack.
"Come on Flash!"
Racetrack.
I turned around to see those two both running toward me.
"Ya just had ta go ta Coney Island," Jack panted. "Ya coulda at least told us."
"I didn't know I had ta," I said to him questioningly.
"Ya don't," said Race, "But it woulda made findin' ya much easier."
"Sorry. What do ya need?"
Jack was still panting and gasping for air. "Our buddy Spot said he needs ta talk ta us. We think its got somethin' ta do wit a… situation he told us about. We think if he knew ya, he'd want ya there too. Ta help."
I looked down at my stack of papers. "I need ta sell my papes. I'm sorry, really I am. But I can't co-"
"Your papes can wait," he interrupted. "We need ya now."
I sighed. "Okay, fine. I'll go wit youse guys ta meet dis 'Spot' fella."
"Then come on, we ain't gots all day."
"Talk ta me like dat again, and I won't be goin' nowhere with you, Kelly," I warned him.
"Okay okay, sorry," he said as we started walking toward the Brooklyn Bridge.
"So tell me 'bout Spot you guys," I told both of them.
Race got a little closer to me so I could hear him better. "Spot Conlon runs the Brooklyn Division, ya know, da newsies. He's their leader. Most newsies get nervous around him 'cause of his temper. And he's real tough. He doesn't look like much, but he can pack a punch pretty good. You don't wanna get on Spot Conlon's bad side. Well, not unless you wanna live a miserable life."
"Ya scared of him guys?" I asked them. "Should I be worried?"
"Nah. Like Race said, ya don't wanna get on his bad side. We ain't on his bad side. If anything, he needs us. He probably don't like dat too much, but it's true. Spot's real big on his image and his pride. If ones damaged, so is da otha. We ain't gots nothing ta worry about."
"I wouldn't have been worried or scared anyways. Nothin' scares me," I said to them confidently. They exchanged glances. "What? What were those looks for?"
"Nothin' Flash. Anything else ya wanna know?" Jack asked me.
"Yeah. How old is dis 'Spot' guy?"
Race answered. "Fifteen. He don't act it though. He saunters around like he's a grown man, feared by everything, even his own shadow."
"I think youse guys is just bein' hot air artists. I'd bet all my dough dat he ain't nothin' ta be scared of."
"You'll see Flash. You'll see," Jack said wearily.
I didn't say anything, so we walked in silence the rest of the way there.
Brooklyn was nothing like Manhattan. Guys were running around shirtless and they were jumping off the docks. They were spitting, fighting, and cussing. They were talking about stuff that most girls don't wanna hear about. I even had to dodge a guy swinging chains around.
"Don't worry, dey won't hurt ya," Race told me.
"I ain't worried. They should be da ones worryin' 'cause if they hurt me, I'm gonna hurt 'em back."
He smiled a little bit and kept walking. I was looking around at everything and wasn't paying attention. I ran right into Race, who had abruptly stopped walking.
"Dammit, I'm sorry," I whispered to him.
He waved it away and gave me a slight smile. I looked to see why we stopped.
Standing in front of us was the guy with the cane. I could see what he looked like now. He was a couple of inches taller than me, but not much. He had medium length brownish hair, grayish blue eyes and a frown on his face. He'd look better if he'd smile.
"Heya Jackie Boy. Heya Race. How youse guys doin'?" He spit in his hand and held it out. Jack and Race did the same thing and they shook. "Glad youse could come on such short notice. So da situation ain't changed much. Bullman still ain't showed his face around here. Da number of boys I have left is dwindlin', and it's dwindlin' quick. I don't know what's goin' on. I still can't find their hideout, even with my little birdies. " He turned away from Jack and finally noticed me.
He gave me a once over and looked at Jack. "Why'd ya bring her? Like she could be much use." He turned to look at me again. "You're a girl. What could ya possibly do dat would be worth me lettin' ya in on dis?"
I glared at him, already hating his attitude. "I could do plenty. I already got a plan ta help ya, but if ya don't think I'd be much help then I can just be on my way. Take your pick."
"Who are ya anyways?" he asked me.
"Oh don't tell me ya haven't heard about me yet. Almost everyone has. I'm a newsie? I sell in Manhattan wit da boys," I told him; talking to him slowly like he was a little kid.
"I know dat much. I'm not an idiot. Do I gotta spell out what I want? I wanna know ya name. Do ya know what a name is? I mean, ya are a girl after all. Your kind don't know much," he said mockingly, smirking at me the whole time.
I clenched my hands by my sides. If I didn't, I knew I would end up slugging this guy. Who does he think he is? Does he know who he's dealin' wit? I took a breath, trying to steady it. "Coulda fooled me. My name is Flash. And I'm guessin' you're Spot? I've heard wonderful things 'bout ya," I said to him with a note of sarcasm in my voice.
He ignored my last comment. "Yeah, I'm Spot. Spot Conlon. Leader of Brooklyn." He rolled his shoulders back and lifted his chin. He had the cockiest smile on his face. I wanted to make that disappear.
"Well good for you. But ya don't look like da leader type. You're too lanky."
The smile slipped off his face, replaced by a mincing frown. Bingo. "Do ya know who you're dealin' with, lady?" he asked me, trying to sound intimidating.
"Funny. I was about ta ask ya da same thing, Conlon," I said to him, equally as intimidating. We had both stepped forward, and now our faces were dangerously close, our eyes boring into each other.
"Can youse guys just quit long enough for Flash ta tell us da plan? I'd really like ta get outta here and back ta Manhattan," Race said impatiently.
We stepped back at the same time, not dropping our glares.
"Okay. Do da people here know dat I sell in Manhattan?" I asked Spot.
"No. They know you exist, but they don't know where ya sell. Why?" He was still looking at me like he was trying to get me to burst into flames.
"Well, maybe I can pretend ta sell here. Since they don't know I'm friends wit da Manhattan boys, they might let me join their little… hate group. If they know I'm friends wit Jack, they might not let me be a part of it, since you and Jack got a friendship goin' on. I could collect information. It's not like they'd suspect…" I stopped talking and let that sink in.
"I hate ta admit it, but dat ain't a bad idea. Maybe you aren't completely stupid after all," Spot said to me. "If what I think is goin' on, then they'd be more than happy ta have ya on their side. They'd have somethin' no one else has. No one expects a girl not to be innocent. This might actually be worth tryin'. You could be a snitcher," he said with a not so innocent grin on his face.
"Whoa whoa whoa, not a snitcher. An informant. Snitcher just sounds bad. Now informant, dat sounds professional," I told them, half-grinning.
Racetrack shook his head and spoke. "Do ya know how dangerous dis is? If dey find out you're workin' for Spot, they'll soak ya, girl or not."
"I'm not 'workin' for Spot', I'm helpin' a… friend. Right, Spot?" I said sweetly.
"Yeah… friend," he said gruffly.
"They could hurt 'cha, Flash," Race told me exasperated.
"Racetrack Higgins, I can do this! I can take care of myself! You think I'm just gonna let 'em hurt me without doin' somethin' about it?"
"No, but-"
Jack interrupted him. "Race, she's right. We can't try ta keep her protected. If she says she can handle dis, she can handle it. Let her do dis."
He stood there for a while, unmoving. Finally he said, "Fine. I guess you're right. Just be careful."
Spot was grinning again. "Now dat we got dat settled, we need a plan. How 'bout ya stay in Brooklyn for da night. Go out in da mornin' and start sellin' papes. You're bound ta have someone come up and try ta get ya to go with 'em once they see you're da person everyone has been talkin' 'bout. Then ya just go wit 'em."
Jack was the one to object this time. "Whoa Spot, she can't stay in Brooklyn. She don't know nobody."
Spot rolled his eyes. "She knows me Jackie Boy."
"So where will she stay?"
"In Brooklyn. We already went over dat," Spot said snickering.
"I got dat. I meant where at in Brooklyn?"
He got out his cane and rolled his shoulders back. He does dat a lot. "She can stay wit me. I'll make sure nothin' happens ta her."
"What makes ya think I wanna stay wit you? Right now, I'd much rather eat a whole pile of Mush's sweaty shirts than stay wit you. And what is with me needin' protection all da time?" I asked them angrily.
"Ya don't always need protection. But somethin' could very easily happen to ya on da streets. You have no choice but ta stay with Spot," Jack told me, almost like it was an order.
"No one orders me around," I grumbled softly. "Fine, I'll stay wit ya Spot, but if anything happens to me, I'll be da one ta take care of it."
Spot nodded. "Dat's fair. Whadda ya say Jackie Boy?"
He nodded in agreement. "Just do like Racetrack said. Be careful. Extremely careful, Flash. I mean it."
"Sure sure," I said. "I will."
"Alright, well we gotta go. We gotta be back before Kloppman sells our beds ta someone else. It's a long walk back. We'll see ya tomorrow night," Racetrack said to me as him and Jack left the alley where we had met Spot, leaving me standing there with the king of cockiness himself.
"Okay lady, we gotta keep you outta sight so the guys don't know dat you knows me. Come on."
"Gosh, you're a demanding little sucker, aren't 'cha? And I'd like it if ya called me by my name, not 'lady'. I'm more than just a lady. I'm the lady," I said to him.
We walked out of the alley, around a corner, and out past a different building. Walking past the building, we went out to a lone dock.
"We'll stay here tonight. No one ever comes here other than me. It's my territory."
I nodded. "Okay. You gotta go back now, don't 'cha?"
"Yeah, I do. I'll be back when it starts ta get dark."
"Alright. See ya later, Leader of Brooklyn," I said mocking him.
"Yeah yeah, see ya later pain in my ass," he said and sauntered down the dock and outta sight.
I jumped down onto the dock with a bottle of ale and some sausage in my hands. Flash turned to look at me.
"Heya Spot. Whatcha got there?" she asked me.
"I figured you'd be hungry so I brought us somethin' ta eat. You may be mouthy, but I still gotta take care of you."
She frowned. "I can take care of myself," but she still took the food I offered her. "Thanks, I guess. I was actually gettin' sorta thirsty," she said taking a hearty swig of the ale. I sat down and she passed the bottle to me. "So how long have ya known Jack and all of 'em?"
"We go way back, da boys and me. Way back."
"Ah. Wish I could say da same," she said, taking the bottle back. She took a couple of big gulps from it before she spoke again. "I can't though."
"Yeah but you act like it."
She looked at me confused. "What do ya mean?"
I shrugged. "Da way youse guys act together makes it seem like you've known 'em forever. Da way they're protective over ya. It's like they're your brudders."
She smiled a little bit. A genuine smile, not a sarcastic smirk or anything. "Yeah, I guess you could say dat. Hey, Spot?"
"Yeah?" I turned to look at her, and I noticed her eyes were green.
"Sorry for bein' so rude to ya earlier. I just don't like people usin' the whole 'you're just a girl' excuse against me. It really pisses me off."
I smirked. This was too easy. All I had ta do was bring her some food and ale and I get an apology? Maybe it's just the ale workin' its magic. "I forgive ya dis time. Just don't mess up again."
She looked at me and shook her head. "You're so cocky. What makes ya like dat?"
"I was born dat way. I would say I learned it from my pop, but I didn't. I'm just like dat."
She sighed. "And how long do I gotta stay wit ya? Hopefully not a second longer than I hafta."
"Watch it, Flash. You'll ruin da perfectly good apology ya already gave me."
"Yeah, well I learned my lesson. I ain't givin' ya no more apologies."
She went to grab the bottle again, but she gripped it too hard. It shattered in her hand.
"Dammit! I cut myself." She held up her hand and looked at the crimson liquid oozing from it. "I might have had more ta drink then I thought."
I scooted over to her and grabbed her hand gently. "Hold still, lemme see." Examining it, I started to pull little bits of glass from it.
"Ow ow ow! Be careful," she said wincing. "Dat hurts."
"I know. Ya think I ain't ever had glass in my hand before? I know it hurts."
She was glaring at me again. She does that a lot.
"Sorry," I mumbled.
She smiled, apparently satisfied with that.
I took a piece of cloth from my pocket and slowly wrapped her hand up.
She smiled at me. "Hey, thanks. That helped. At least now I won't be bleedin' all over da place."
I still had a hold of her hand. She must have noticed because she squeezed my fingers that were still in her palm.
I pulled my hand away, murmured a quick sorry, and looked around. I heard her clear her throat and I looked back at her.
She was looking at me funny. "It's okay, Spot."
A few minutes went by and we sat there in silence. After a while she glanced up at me and grinned.
"Ya know, da cloth isn't as tight as it should be, but I don't see no blood drippin' out from under it. Maybe it stopped bleedin'. Can ya check it?"
I grinned back at her. Smooth, Flash. Real smooth. "Sure." I took her hand and gently pulled off the cloth. It had stopped bleeding. "Hmm… it looks good."
"Great." Her fingers lingered against mine for a second, but she pulled her hand back and put it in her lap. She looked back at me then back down.
I looked at her. Really looked at her. Her eyes reminded me of pond water; not in a bad way. And her hair was so light, it was almost white. It hung down a little past her shoulders. She was tan, like most of us guys, and it made her freckles stand out. Her mouth was heart-shaped. I didn't notice I was staring at her lips until she threw a piece of sausage at me.
"Hey bonehead, ya gonna answer me? I asked if ya had any blankets."
"Oh, yeah. I only have one though, so we'll hafta share." I side-glanced at her, waiting to see what reaction she'd give me.
She just shrugged. "Alright, sounds good ta me." She grabbed the blanket I had gotten out and threw it over us. She lay down and closed her eyes. Okay, not the reaction I was expectin'. A punch to da kisser woulda went along more wit what I was expectin'.
She wasn't laying there for long before she started shivering and her teeth started chattering. She opened one eye and looked up at me. "I'm cold. Help me."
I laid down beside her and cautiously put my arm around her. "Dat any better?"
She slowly nodded, kind of awkwardly. "Yeah, thanks. Ya know, you don't act tough like Racetrack said."
"Yes I do. I just have a soft spot for mouthy girls. Girls who are as mouthy as me. They make me wanna be friends wit 'em."
"You wanna be friends with me?"
"Yeah. Dat so hard ta believe?" I questioned her.
"I don't know. Maybe," she said, shifting under my arm. "You were a jerk ta me today. I don't know," she said again. "I don't know ya well enough."
She was still shivering, so I pulled her a little closer to me without her really taking notice. "Ya will soon enough. I'm not too hard ta understand."
"Yeah, but you can say dat 'cause you're you. You don't know if you're hard ta understand because you've always understood yaself."
I thought for a second. "I guess you're right, maybe. Ya gonna stick around long enough ta find out?" I asked her, annoyed at how hopeful my voice sounded. It didn't sound like me at all. Pull yaself together Spot. What has gotten into ya?
She laughed, and for a second I thought she could hear my thoughts. "You can't get rid of me dat fast, Conlon. Nice try though."
I shook my head. "I'm not tryna get rid of ya. I'm just curious. I haven't really let any one girl stick around for long."
"Really? I can't see why. Ya ain't too bad. Well… sorta," she said sleepily.
I lay there thinking. "Hey, Flash?" Silence. "Flash?"
She yawned. "Yeah, Spot?" she muttered.
"You gonna stay here again tomorrow?" I asked her. No answer. "Flash, did ya hear me?"
She muttered something I didn't understand.
"What?"
"I said of course I heard ya. I ain't deaf. And maybe. If ya want me to."
"I do," I answered her.
"Okay then, I will," she said quietly.
I smiled. I still gots it. Girls still listen ta me. "Okay. Night Flash."
"Night Buddy."
Buddy? Of course...