Jack made me sell with him and Davey for the rest of the day. It was annoying because he was keeping a watch on me, and he told David what happened right away. I get that Davey is important to everyone in Manhattan but –not to say I'm that important, because I'm not-it bothered me that Jack told him and wouldn't explain anything to me.
I knew enough to not bother Jack today though. It was brisk out, early November. That meant it was time to be saving up as much money as you could. I normally sold about 75 papes, because when I'm dressed as a boy I look really young and innocent. Race says I appear roughly around 12, which is fine by me since looking young helps out a lot in my line of work.
But having been with the newsies for longer than most also helped me out with selling too. I was nowhere near as good as Jack, but pretty good if I do say so myself.
It was nearing the time that the three of us were about to head to lunch when I heard steps running behind me, I whirled around, throwing my arms up to keep whoever it was away. Racetrack's bewildered face looked down at me as I shoved him before realizing who he was.
"What da hell Hum?" He questioned, "Got some bug up ya butt today or sometin'." He was only joking, but I didn't feel like hearing it, so I simply shrugged and apologized for pushing him.
I guess my lack of a friendly smile told him something actually was wrong. "But really, what's wrong?"
"Smirks tried to get a little handsy with her when him and his friends was getting' away, dats all." Jack commented, making it seem like something that happened every day, totally normal.
I could see Race's black eyes narrowing at me. When I gave another shrug he continued, "Smirks from Harlem? Harlem beat up Crutchy?"
Race had a habit of using different tones to express the opposite of what he really felt. Right now for example he sounded curious but disinterested. This meant he really was concerned and desperate for information. As Jack's second though, he knew how to control his emotions…to a degree.
That's why he hadn't left to help with Crutchy. Being Jack's second meant keeping an eye on the others in case something bad should happen to him, thus making him the leader. Race as a leader. Hmm…
"And Queens." Jack added in the same voice Race had just used. David had gone ahead with Les and gotten a booth inside TIbby's for us all.
"What?" His real emotion came through on that question. "Dis is bad." He mumbled under his breath, taking a cigar out of his pocket and popping it into his mouth.
"It will be soon if we don't do nothin' about it." Jack said firmly to him, "Dey beat da crap outta Crutchy, dey attacked Jake, and dat's just the last two people. In the past month at least seven o' our boys have been jumped." He paused there, giving Racetrack time to think before continuing. "
We were walking the long way to Tibby's. And I had no problem listening in on this conversation, but then a thought struck me. "Race where is Blitz?" I demanded loudly, whipping around to face him. Stopping him in his tracks.
His eyes appeared confused for just a second, then cleared, "A head o' me at Tibby's wit Jakey and da rest. Gawd…" Something clicked visibly in his mind, "Dey threatened me girl?"
"They threatened everyone!" I said, a bit more harshly than I meant, throwing my hands up in the air. "Oh…Sorry Race. I didn't mean to yell at ya. I'm just tired is all."
Race snatched up one of my hands and looked at it, bringing it close to his face. I remembered when he had done that a few times back when we were kids. Some would say we're still kids now, but to the eyes of a newsie, we were adults. His eyes wandered over the torn skin. "Dey do dis to ya?"
"Yeah dey did more den dat." Jack answered for me, not saying what I would have chosen personally. Race's eyes flipped up to his as I pulled my hand back.
"It's fine." I told them.
"No it ain't fine Hum!" Jack growled, "Smirks practically blacklisted ya. Do ya have any idea how much danger you're in?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Race cut in. "Blacklisted? How much o' dis story am I missin'?"
"It was nothin'." I said quickly, "Smirks was just-"
"Bein' totally serious wit ya." Jack said, "He said he'd get her, and ya know what dat means," He flicked his eyes to Race before coming back to me, "Both o' ya."
I knew, but what could I do? I needed to work, so I couldn't just stay in the Lodging House all day. It was a risk I had to take.
"We gotta send her away." Jack concluded. It was such an out of thin air mark in my mind that I practically tripped, resulting in Race having to save me from yet another hard connection with the ground that morning.
"What?" I spluttered, straightening up and looking at Race for some help. But he was nodding his head, as if he agreed. "Guys, I need ta take care of-"
"No ya don't." Race said a bit softly, "Think of yaself Hum, foah just five minutes. Please doll."
Jack was less sympathetic, "Right now you've got Harlem and Queens holdin' somethin' against ya. That means ya can't be here." I just looked at him, obviously unhappy, "And besides," he added, "If you're here you're putting Dolly and the girls in danger when you sell wit dem alone."
That got to me a bit, but I did try to convince him otherwise. "Have them sell with other people."
"You'd be all nerves if ya weren't lookin' after someone and ya know it Hum. It would put ya off ya guard and whoever would be wit ya would be at risk if ya weren't paying attention and got jumped."
Ugh. He was right.
And Jack could see in my eyes I understood what he meant. "Ya gotta go Hum, at least until we can get ya name off their list. We got too many young kids and girls ta look after along wit everythin' else right now. Ya gotta."
I felt Race put his arm around me and realized I had stopped walking. He pulled me along slightly and I felt Jack looking at me with his peripheral. "Where will I go?" I asked honestly. I had spent a few nights in other boroughs throughout my time with the newsies, even in Harlem once. But my whole life had really been in Manhattan.
"Da safest place I know." Jack said with a whisper of a smirk touching his lips, "Besides, I need ta talk ta good old Spotty anyway."
Brooklyn.
Race stopped and stared at Jack, "Brooklyn? Ya sure Cowboy? Dey ain't got no goils over dere. Spot…"
"Spot will agree. Trust me." Jack said in a way that sparked my curiosity into ignition even through my stupor. "Come on, let's get lunch quickly." He told us.
"Jack, I'm tired, and we've sold plenty of papes." I complained; something unusual for me but I felt the situation called for it. "Can't we just be done for the day?"
"Oh we ain't sellin' any more today." Jack told me as we pushed the doors to Tibby's open. "As soon as we're done we're grabbin' ya tings and headin' over da bridge."
'So I'm leaving…today. I thought, No time for me to tell Dolly or Jake or Chips or Yoyo where I'm going or that I'll be missing for a while.
Seeing my somber expression Jack gave a small smile, "Don't go thinkin' dis is all about you. My meetin' wit Spot can't wait any longer." He laughed jokingly, bumping my shoulder with his before we slid into the booth we saw a very annoyed Davey at.
I didn't want to explain it all to him. I just didn't.
Brooklyn, the air tastes like salt, the people are hard and tough, and the atmosphere is thick with loyalty to the borough. I had been to Brooklyn a few times in my life, but I had made a choice to not go there more than I had to. I wasn't a fan of the aura of the area.
I respected the dedication of its newsies, the notoriousness of the location. But I preferred the feeling of joking sarcasm and emotion that ran through some of the other boroughs over the controlling and cold ways of Brooklynites.
Or maybe it was more so because they had no girls.
The streets were alive with immigrants, many Irish having made their homes there. Jack and I made our way down through the streets and to the docks in good time, Jack had tried to lighten the mood but my mind was on other things.
With my bag slung over my shoulder I observed what was going on around me. Despite the growing chill of late fall boys were still jumping into the black waters. Their long johns clinging to them as they dragged themselves out. There had to be at least twenty boys at the dock, but I knew that Brooklyn had more.
I did notice as well that most of the boys were older, unlike with Manhattan where we had less newsies in their upper teens and more in their mid. But I couldn't think of that right then.
Jack had taken a risk coming as just us, but he knew if he brought a crew of boys with him Spot would be offended and be more likely to ignore his request since he'd want to remind them of how powerful he really was.
I had nothing against Spot, but I wasn't about to leave Jack's team for his. He was a great leader, but I didn't always agree with the way he led, or how I had been told he led at least. Rumors, you know, the usual. I had seen him several times, but never actually met him, so I tried not to jump to conclusions.
We entered a maze of crates when I suddenly heard a voice say, "What bring youse ta Brooklyn Jacky-boy?"
I was at my most steeled at that moment, I didn't want to show weakness around these newsies and I needed to prove I could hack it there. Jack had told to do just that as we had headed over and I didn't plan on letting him down. He was risking his neck to include me in his deal with Spot, it was the least I could do to do as he asked.
So when Spot jumped down from one of the stacks of crates I didn't flinch or move, just stared as if I had seen it coming. He didn't even glance my way but went straight to Jack, smirk on his face as he spit into his hand and shook Jack's –who did the same.
"Long time no see Spot." Jack said with the cocky smile he was famous for.
Some of the boys were crowding around, making us cornered. I could see water dripping off of a few. One dragged himself onto the dock, the muscles in his arms flexed. I definitely wouldn't ever want to get in a fight with him. He came to stand not two feet from me and I stayed as natural as possible, though I couldn't help the tensing of my own muscles with a possible unknown threat so close.
"I just wanted to ta talk ta ya about some issues ya might be familiar wit." Jack said casually as he could. Spot gave him a steady stare which Jack took as a signal to continue. "Ya know we've always had problems wit Queens, and well-"
"Now Jacky-boy youse know Brooklyn don't get involved wit crap like dat." Spot cut him off bluntly, his tone sounding smooth but commanding at the same time. "Every borrow foah itself. If youse can't talk care of ya own fights…well den maybe you ain't meant to be a leader."
Spot's words even made me wince, though Jack seemed unfazed. "Then I suppose ya wouldn't be interested in hearin' dat Queens and Harlem came into 'Hattan territory and jumped two o' me boys?"
I could see thoughts passing over Spot's face like a wave crashing in the ocean, there for a second with a second but then gone as it blends in with the calmed waters. He flicked his head back to get his blonde strands out of his eyes as he pulled the gold tipped cane out of his belt loop, leaning against a wall of crates as he fiddled with the end. Appearing disinterested. This guy was a better actor than Jack, even if less charismatic. "And what in da hell would make youse tink Ise would be interested in hearin' dat?"
"Oh I'm sure ya little birds have been tellin' ya all about the jumpin's and tentions and all dat. But I'm wonderin' if youse seen one o' dem recently. Their name's Bats." Jack sounded confident and strong as he said this. The late afternoon sun glinting in his dark hair.
Spot gave him another unreadable and intimidating stare. So he proceeded, "One o' my newsies, Hot Shot, went missin' foah a few days. When he got back we thought it was Queens dat had got him. Turns out he was in some cellar down in Harlem with a lost birdy named Bat from Brooklyn. Apparently Bats ain't lookin' too good either."
That got Spot's attention. It was a known fact no one messed with Brooklyn's boys, it was hard to do to any of them. They only kept the strong, if you weren't tough enough to last you left. Simple as that. If you couldn't handle getting soaked or giving everything for your leader you moved somewhere else.
And it was also a known fact that Harlem and Brooklyn were on as bad terms as Queens and Manhattan were.
"It don't take a person wit a ton o' brains ta see what's goin' on here." Jack informed Spot, advancing a step in his direction, "Dere's a war comin', and ya know if da newsies of Queens and Harlem solidify den no one borough can take dem down."
Spot nodded thoughtfully, which I assumed was a good sign, he agreed with us. But then he said, "Brooklyn stands alone Jack, youse know dat."
I felt like this shouldn't have surprised me, it didn't in a way. But some part of me felt as if it had been punched in the gut. A pretty uncomfortable feeling.
Jack's eyes got a cold evening up with Spot's powerful dark look. They squared off for a while, I felt a chill run down my back as the only audible sounds were that of the distant bustle on the streets and the boats coming into port. All newsies were watching.
The boy behind me advanced a step closer.
I was too tense, he was a looming threat that I knew little about. I had to push him away.
Just as I was about to turn and throw my arms out to push him back Jack called out to me as if he had read my thoughts. "Hum!"
One word stopped me mid turn. The red haired wet guy looked harsh and dangerous, his black eyes narrowing in on my face, like he was sizing me up. But then they widened with some realization. "Youse a-"
I felt a hand jerk me away as Jack dragged me toward Spot. His grip tight on my arm, taking me to stand just beside him. "Don't say a word." Jack said quietly to me before turning to Spot, "If ya ain't gonna accept our alliance pledge, ya might as well do 'Hattan one favor."
"Brooklyn don't owe 'Hattan nothin'!" Spot said loudly, not as if he was losing his cool though, just with great strength. "From what I recall youse still owe us."
I was making myself as stoic and tough looking as possible, despite my nerves. Like any of the strongest fighters in Manhattan would.
Spot wasn't even looking my way, he acted as though I wasn't really there.
Jack ran a hand over his face in a stressed way before continuing despite Spot's previous statement, "Dis," He gestured to me, "is Hum. Smirks is after Hum cause of a jumpin' that went down dis mornin'. Hum's marked."
Spot cast a glance at me before simply saying, "So what Jack?"
Then Jack did something I didn't expect. He reached over and tore my hat off so that my brown hair tumbled down, my face revealed. I had been wearing the cap so it covered my features in case things went badly and we had to run. That way no one would really recognize me.
"So dis Spot."
Spot looked at me closely, a flash of recognition crossing his eyes, maybe he recognized me from sometime during the strike or from Medda's or something. His grey, cold, eyes took me in. From my slightly curled hair, to the flecks of green in my eyes, to the scar that ran just from over my left eyebrow to the top of my cheek, to my skinny short form.
He looked like he belonged in the mist of the ocean. Intimidating and unattainable.
When Spot didn't respond Jack advanced toward him, getting up close, some of the Brooklynites began to go after him. I got ready for a fight. But Spot held his hand up to stop them.
I couldn't hear all Jack said, because when he spoke it was purposefully quite silent. I don't think I was supposed to know what he was saying, but I heard some of it anyway. "Ya might not owe me or 'Hattan or even her. But if ya owe anyone in dis world, it's Blackbird. And ya know it."
Who was Blackbird? I wasn't sure. It was all actually pretty confusing but now wasn't the time to ask about it. That could put Jack at risk, or even me. I pushed my hair out of my eyes anxiously, having it down made me feel naked and bare. Especially there.
Jack stepped away, coming next to me. I wanted him to put his arm around me in the way the boys would do when the risks were high for everyone. I know it was lame, and made me seem weak and overly feminine, but I was nervous. I wanted him to show that I was supported by Manhattan.
I knew I was. And he knew I was. But for some reason I felt that in Brooklyn, physical comfort or protection of any kind was not a norm.
Spot was fingering his cane again before turning his back to us. "She can stay. But only for a month." He began to walk back to his perch but then stopped, "Dat's how long youse got our help and hospitality for. After dat, you and dis goil are on ya own."
Hospitality meant me, help meant…
I saw Jack smile slightly. "All we need Spot."
That was a lie.
The boys began to back away since it was clear the issue was cooling down and there was no battle to come. Even if I don't really think two to twenty is a battle, it's more like a public beating.
Jack turned to me, glaring at the few boys who remained staring. He placed the hat back on my head and began to speak quickly. "Listen Hum, I don't got much time left here, Spot won't be too happy with me for a few days after what I just pulled." When he paused I nodded to tell him I understood then he continued, "Brooklyn ain't a safe place, and the newsies are tough as nails and mean as bull dogs, dat's why dey don't take goils…dat's also why it's da best place for ya. Got me?"
I stared right back at him and nodded like the good soldier I was.
He smiled but his look was one of seriousness, "Good goil. Be strong, be brave, keep ya cap down, don't let anyone get too close ta ya dat ya don't think means any good, and don't show any weakness. Dey won't show any sympathy just cause ya a goil. If anything real bad happens go ta Spot, he might be a cocky son of a bitch sometimes but he's not a bad guy. Manhattan will be back for ya by dis time next month, ya hear me?"
His gaze softened as he took me in, he gently flicked a hair behind my ear before adding, "And don't go worryin' about Dolly and Jake. We can take care o' da goils and kids. I promise."
Jack always knew what to say. "Alright?"
I worked up the newsie strength to give a false smile of courage. "Yeah, alright Jack."
He knew it was bull I think, but even if he did he pretended he didn't. Quickly he pulled me in for a hug, it was rough and fast, but held a lot of meaning. It told me to be safe, that Manhattan would be fighting while I was gone, and that he was trusting me to do my best while I was away.
And then just like that he was gone, half way down the dock. Took my hat off, shoving my hair up before plopping it back down and turning around to face the waters again. Boys were looking at me from all around. Slyly, secretly, and blatantly.
Some of the boys were looking at me as harshly as they had been before, some were looking at me as if I was a piece of meat, and some were looking at me as if I was scum.
A splash of salt water hit my face as a boy jumped into the sea next to me, I could taste it on my lips and tongue. It burned where it got in my eyes.
Harsh, cold, strong.
That's the world I had just stepped into.