"You got a visitor," Snyder said, as Crutchie walked in carrying his tray of dinner.
"Sorry, sir?" Crutchie said, slightly confused.
"You got a visitor," he repeated as Crutchie set down the tray of food. "Wait here a few minutes and someone will be here to take you."
Crutchie sat down, too deep in thought to watch Snyder eating his large meal. Who on earth would be visiting him? It couldn't be one of the newsies. If any of them showed up at the refuge, they would only get arrested. Perhaps it was Kloppman. Maybe the boys were worried and asked him to go for them. Or maybe it was Katherine Plumber or another reporter, ready to interview a captured newsie for another article on the strike. But then there was a knock on the door as a guard arrived to take Crutchie to meet his visitor.
Crutchie paid no attention to where he was going. He was far too preoccupied to pay attention to his surroundings. Suddenly they came to a stop in front of a large door. The guard opened the door to a dark room and let Crutchie in. He looked around the room for his visitor and jumped when he saw a figure emerge from the shadows. His heart sank into his stomach as he heard the door close and lock behind him.
"Hello, son," his father said, grinning darkly. "Good to see you."
"What do you want?" Crutchie asked in disgust.
"That's no way to greet ya fatha," he slurred, taking a gulp from the bottle in his hand. He then extended it out to Crutchie. "Have a sip and let's chat."
"No, I want to know why you's here," Crutchie said, firmly. "Why the hell did you show up here afta all these years? How did you find me? And why won't you just go away?"
"You see sonnie," he said, taking another large gulp. "I been checkin into the refuge 'bout a few times a month since you and ya sista ran off. I walked in today and was glad to hear one of you brats was caught. Mista Snyda was glad too. So now all I gots to do is find that damned sista of yours and then you's both will be taken care of."
"I ain't gonna tell you where she is," Crutchie said, staying as far away from him as possible. He knew that once he started arguing with him, things would get bad. "She's safe and has been eva since we left you. You's a lousy excuse for a fatha. You don't deserve to be breathin right now. I hate your guts so much right now that its takin everything in me not to kick your ass."
"Very well, son," he said, finishing off the bottle. "If that's how you want to do this..." Suddenly he threw the empty bottle at Crutchie, who turned his back and shouted as it shattered on the back of his shoulder. Then before he could turn back to do anything, he was grabbed, spun around, and then punched in the nose. Crutchie felt like it had been broken and quickly wiped away the blood that began trickling down over his mouth.
He took his crutch and swung it at the man's knees. Being drunk and off balance already, this knocked him sideways to the ground. Crutchie then kicked him in the jaw and stomped his foot on his chest. He leaned down so close he could smell the liquor on his father's breath.
"I ain't no helpless little kid no more," Crutchie said fearlessly, staring into the dark, cold eyes that gave him nightmares as a child. "I can stand up for myself now. I got what it takes to let you know that you ain't eva gonna hurt me or Essie again."
Then he grabbed Crutchie's ankle that was on his chest and shoved it upward, throwing Crutchie off balance and knocking him on his back. His head began to spin as he hit the hard floor and for a few terrifying seconds he couldn't even move. When he finally could see again, his father was standing over him with a shard of glass from the broken bottle. Crutchie quickly rolled over and out of the way as the man forcefully stabbed at him. Crutchie hopped up, adrenaline rushing through him and giving him the energy to fight, bent over to grab his crutch to use as his own weapon.
In the split second that his back was to his father, he felt a sharp stinging pain in his side. He looked down to see fabric ripped and blood dripping from a large cut. Then he was shoved against the wall and the shard of glass pressed to his throat. Crutchie stopped moving and tried to catch his breath. One wrong move and he was dead.
"Now let's have that chat," the man said, breathing heavily.
"I told you ya filthy bastard," Crutchie said boldly. "I ain't gonna tell you where she is." He was then punched in the stomach and a shout escaped his lips.
"Yeah, you is," he said, leaning closer to Crutchie's face. "Now for the last time, where is ya sista?" He pressed the sharp glass up against his throat so hard that Crutchie could feel it digging into his skin and fresh blood dribbled down his neck. He was going to die if he didn't tell him something. But he was never going to give Dollface away, not in a million years. Whatever he told him would have to be very believable but also so far from the truth that Dollface would never be in any actual danger if he went looking for her.
"She's in Brooklyn," he said finally. "Last time I seen her she was in Brooklyn cuz it's easier to sell papes there."
"Brooklyn, huh," he repeated, looking all over Crutchie's face for any signs that he was lying. After a few tense seconds where Crutchie was sure he was going to get his throat cut, his father lowered the glass and dropped it to the ground. He then backed away but Crutchie stayed frozen up against the wall. Suddenly the man moved quickly back and punched Crutchie in the groin. Crutchie fell over, groaning and gritting his teeth.
"That's for bein such a son of a bitch, ya brat," he snarled, walking towards the door.
"That makes you the bitch," Crutchie said through his teeth. The room was flooded with light as the door opened to let his father out. He walked to the door, stopping in the doorframe to face Crutchie.
"Naw, I ain't the bitch of the family," he said. "That'd be ya sista. Like motha like daughta." Crutchie lunged towards him, anger coursing through his whole body, but the guard slammed the door in his face.
"I hope you die you stupid bastard!" Crutchie shouted, slamming his fists on the door. He remained standing there for a few minutes, his rage fading and his heart rate slowing. With the adrenaline gone, Crutchie once again found himself in pain. He slid to the ground and rested, leaning up against the dirty wall. Blood was pouring from his nose so badly that he had given up on stopping from getting all over his face and clothes. His neck stung from where the glass cut him, though not as much as the gash on his side. He could only sit there, occasionally wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, and wait for someone to get him. Just as he was nodding off, the door opened and he was blinded by light.
"Boy, he really did a number on you kid," was the guard's only comment. He pulled Crutchie off the ground, shoving his crutch under his arm, and then practically dragged him back to the bunk room. He unlocked the door and shoved Crutchie inside, locking the door as boys surrounded him.
"What happened?"
"Why's ya face bloody?"
"Was it Snyda?"
"Was it Charlie?"
"Would ya shut it!" Crutchie shouted, rather annoyed. He wanted nothing more than to just go curl up in a secluded corner and get some sleep. "I got some information people really want, that's all. Now go away." Crutchie shoved past everyone and limped off towards the end of the room. He could feel all eyes on him as he turned to look out the window.
"Crutch, what happened," Rover said, walking over. "You's a mess. And I don't mean just ya face. You's real pissed, I can see that."
"Just had a real nice chat with my pop," Crutchie said sarcastically. "I ain't seen him in four years and he turns up here. Today. The second day I'm in the refuge. In the middle of the strike. And he asks to know where Dollface is. So he can take care of her like Snyda's takin care of me. He's such a piece of scum. I can't even begin to tell you. I didn't tell him of course. No way am I leadin him to Dollface." He huffed out an exasperated sigh.
"Sounds like you got some family issues," Rover said with a slight laugh. "Well you's a good brotha for not rattin her- shit, Crutchie, there's glass in your shoulder!" Crutchie craned his neck to see that there were indeed bits of glass stuck to his skin through his shirt.
"Would ya look at that," Crutchie said nonchalantly. "That'd be pop's liquor bottle. Cost more than a single piece of clothing he ever bought us."
"Let's go sit somewheres and I'll pick out the glass," Rover said. "And I'll try to get somethin to hold to ya nose, it's drippin blood everywhere." Crutchie followed Rover back to his bunk and let him pick the glass out of his shoulder, wincing as every piece was removed. Rover had just finished when a guard came with a bucket of water and a rag, ordering Crutchie to clean up and stop getting blood everywhere.
"Thanks, Rover," Crutchie said, wringing out the dirty rag. He gently wiped the blood off his face and neck and cleaned his hands before holding the rag to his nose.
"Jesus, what else did he do to ya," Rover said, seeing the gash on his lower back. "This is real deep. Take off your shirt and I'll clean it."
"Rover, you's bein silly," Crutchie said. "I don't need all this help. I'm just a little bruised."
"And covered in blood," Rover said pointedly. "We try to help each otha around here. Sometimes one of us will get sick or have a bad dream. We's there to help him out. Now I see a kid standin in front of me wit a broken nose and a cut on his side and he's probably not tellin us about everythin else. But we know he ain't gonna complain about the rotten hand he's been dealt. Now would you just let us help?"
Crutchie stared into the bucket of water for a moment and then finally pulled off his shirt. Rover gasped, causing Crutchie to look down at his body. There were bruises everywhere. His whole stomach was black and blue. It was a wonder how he didn't cringe in pain with every step he took. Crutchie simply looked away, as seeing all the bruises made it hurt more somehow, and focused on rinsing out the rag, turning the water a bloody red.
"I don't know anyone who deserves this," Rover mumbled as he cleaned the cut on Crutchie's back. He gritted his teeth as Rover cleaned it and then wrapped some long pieces of torn up sheets around him to stop the bleeding. Crutchie thanked him, grabbed his shirt, and went to sit in a deserted corner of the room. He sat down, pressing the rag to his still bleeding nose, and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He was exhausted. He was currently running on five or six hours of sleep. He had missed dinner and was now starving. He was getting more and more light headed as he had lost quite a lot of blood and wasn't drinking enough water.
He longed to be home. His heart ached to be with his friends. And Dollface. He could scream out he missed her so badly. He just hoped that he was able to divert their father from her. But if she was with the boys, she would be safe. He imagined that if he was in the boarding house right now, they would all be sitting around, playing another stupid game of cards. Or maybe they'd be planning for the strike.
Suddenly Crutchie sat up, overcome with dizziness for a moment. The strike. He had completely forgotten about it since his father showed up. He hadn't had any news about what was going on. The only thing he knew was that they had gotten in the newspaper. He stood up and walked over to Rover.
"Hey, have you heard anythin 'bout the strike?" he asked him, interrupting his conversation with some boys. Rover shook his head.
"Damnit," Crutchie muttered under his breath. "I gotta go find out somehow. Maybe I can wait til it's real dark and sneak out."
"Or you could just let us take care of it," said Fingers, a boy about Crutchie and Rover's age. "We gots a way of findin stuff out around here."
"Ya just gotta wait and be patient," Dart said, happy to be in a conversation with the older boys.
"Well what do ya do?" Crutchie asked.
"You'll see," William said, a sneaky smile growing on his face. "First we hafta wait til lights out."
"I fell asleep before that last night. When is it?" Crutchie asked. The light in the room was suddenly shut off and the room went dark.
"Now," Rover said, smirking. "Ok Dart, go check the doors. I'll get the othas in bed. William, Fingas, you take Crutchie and get ready by the window." They all moved at once. Dart went to the door and laid down, looking through the crack under the door. Rover began telling the other kids, most of whom were younger than him, to get in bed and not to make any noises. William, Fingers, and Crutchie went to the window at the back of the room and were later joined by Rover. They watched Dart by the door for a few minutes until he gave a thumbs up. Rover quietly opened the window and one by one they climbed out. William and Fingers went down to the first and second landings on the fire escape while Crutchie followed Rover up to the top level.
Once there, Rover stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. Crutchie hoped no one would hear it, otherwise they would get caught. A few seconds after Rover's long whistle, another whistle was heard, this time shorter. Then Rover clapped his hands in a pattern, two slow claps followed by three fast claps. Then there was silence. They waited for another minute before Crutchie spoke up.
"What was all that about?" he asked, referring to the claps and whistles. "What are we waitin for?"
"We set up a series of signals," Rover explained. "We get up on the fire escapes every night once the guards leave us alone. You fell asleep before this last night. Most times we don't hear nothin, we just sit here for a few minutes and then go back inside. But sometimes you do get some action goin on. The whistles are to talk to other boys. Each whistle means somethin different. What just happened now was I signaled for my pal Robert. Then he responded saying he was there. Then the claps meant I want him to get Bird."
"Bird? Who's-" Crutchie started asking but Rover continued explaining.
"He's our man outside. We gots some more people too but he's the most reliable," he explained. "He sleeps in the alley near here so can hear our signals. If we eva need somethin, he's the one we go to. We just call him up, he sneaks in real quiet, and we chat wit him."
"Why's he called Bird?" Crutchie asked but someone else answered his question. In the direction of the gates, there came a bird call. A series of short tweets.
"He makes bird sounds," Rover said, smiling. "That one means he's comin in but doesn't know where he needs to go." Then another whistle was heard, three short notes.
"That whistle means 'Rover' so he's comin to see us," Rover said. "Let's go down to the first floor and meet him." Crutchie followed as they climbed down the stairs and met up with William. They waited in silence and a cool breeze blew on Crutchie's bare back, soothing the cuts in his shoulder from the glass. Finally after a few minutes, they heard a softer bird call.
"You's good bird, coast is clear," William said, looking around. A boy came running around the corner, pressed against the shadows of the night, and Rover climbed down the broken ladder. He stuck out an arm, which Bird jumped to and grabbed, and pulled the boy up.
"What's it this time?" Bird asked, once they were all standing again.
"Well Crutchie here started the newsie strike," William said, patting him on the shoulder. "He was hopin to get some information on what's goin on."
"You started the strike?" Bird repeated. Crutchie nodded and Bird laughed. "Boy, you fellas sure screwed up the circulation centers with that little stunt yestaday." Was it really only yesterday that they has stormed the circulation center?
"What's goin on wit the strike?" Crutchie asked. "Anyone else been caught? Is anyone hurt? What do ya know about Jack Kelly's group of newsies? Any word yet on other kids joining in?"
"Whoa, kid, slow down," Bird said, a small smile on his face. "Right now, I don't know much but I can find out more when I leave. As of now, I heard there ain't much goin on. It's as if all the newsies on strike disappeared. I think I saw a buncha 'em at Tibby's dis mornin though. They wasn't workin or nothin though."
"Word has it though that Pulitzer's paid off some otha kids," Bird continued. "Bought 'em nice clothes and paid 'em loads to sell what the otha newsies ain't. Then of course I heard a rumor Kelly ain't in on the strike anymore. That he dropped out and is skippin town."
"Jack ain't wit the strike?" Crutchie asked, surprised to hear this. Bird shrugged and Crutchie suddenly became angry, kicking the wall. "Come on, cowboy! You's bein a wimp! Just grow a pair and-"
Rover clapped his hand over Crutchie's mouth, as he was too loud and likely to draw attention. They all stood there quietly to make sure the coast was clear. After a few moments, Rover took his hand away from Crutchie.
"That pisses me off," Crutchie grumbled. "So he just gets us all to start a strike, wit him as leada, and then wants to leave cuz of one fight?"
"Whoa, calm down," Rover said, grabbing his shoulder. "You're bleedin through the bandage." He pointed to the gash on his back, to the growing crimson red blotch on the fabric wrapped around Crutchie's waist. Crutchie's blood was pumping fast as his anger and frustration rose.
"Look let's just set up a system and then get inside," Rover said. "Ok so the plan's this Bird. Tonight and tomorrow go get all the information you can about this strike. What are they gonna do? What do they want? Who's helpin? How's Pulitzer reactin? All that stuff. The boardin house about a block away from the circulation center is good."
"That one's mine," Crutchie said, breathing in calmer breaths. "Ask what Jack's doin. And check on my sista. Name's Dollface. She gots tons a freckles and light green eyes and long brown hair that- on second thought, she's the only girl newsie. Shouldn't be too hard to find her. Just make sure she's in one piece."
"So once you get good enough information, get back here," Rover said, forming more of the plan. "Try and dress yaself up real nice, like a delivery boy. Bring a crate of some kind, say ya got tomatoes or something for the kitchen. They'll let you down to the kitchen and you tell Rat what you know. Then when you leave, say you'll be back tomorrow wit apples. Do that everyday 'round lunch. Then meet us here each night about this time. We'll whistle when the coast is clear."
"Sounds good to me," he shrugged, beginning to climb down the ladder. "Good to see ya again, fellas." He leapt down to the ground, landing gracefully and quietly, then looked back up.
"Nice to meet ya, Crutchie," he said with a wink and ran off.
"There ya have it," William said, climbing back up to their floor. "Bird will find out everything there is to know."
"How'd ya meet him if he ain't in the refuge?" Crutchie asked, following the boys.
"Oh he was in the refuge," Fingers said. "We hated him when he was here though. He was alway a prick. Actin all nice and all hoity toity around the guards and Snyda. Then he told us he was hopin to get out on good behavior. He gots a little brotha he's gotta look afta."
"Sure enough though, he got out," Rover said, climbing back through the window. "He and his brotha work in some factory. But they live in an alley real close, that's why he can hear all our whistles. One time he snuck in to bring us some new clothes, ones that was a little messed up in the factory. He started visitin more and more, tellin us what was goin on outside the refuge sometimes, sometimes just comin to chat." Crutchie had trouble climbing back in the window, the gash in his side now throbbing, and accepted Dart's hand as he helped him inside.
"So what'd ya find out?" Dart asked eagerly, closing the window.
"Shh!" Rover hushed the young boy. "Ya wanna wake up the whole room or somethin?"
"Didn't have much to say right now," Fingers whispered. "But he's gonna find out tomorrow and then sneak into the kitchen at lunch. Probably gonna come back at night too."
"I'm just glad I know he's comin back," Crutchie said. "Those is all my friends in the strike. That's my sista too. I just gotta know if they's alright."
"They will be," Rover said, reassuringly. "Now let's just go to bed."
"Oh forgot to tell ya," Dart said sheepishly. "Uh... some kids took ya bed. I tried to stop 'em but they wouldn't listen or nothin." Rover sighed but patted the boy's head.
"It's ok, Dart," he said. "I'm fine on the floor tonight." He stopped and looked around at the rest of the room. That was when they all noticed every bed was taken, most had two boys in them.
"I guess we's all sleepin on the floor," Crutchie shrugged, walking over to where he had been sitting down earlier. They all followed him and found a comfortable place on the floor.
"Night, fellas," William muttered, already half asleep. They all mumbled back to him and closed their eyes. Crutchie grabbed his shirt and balled it up, using it as a pillow. He flipped over to his stomach, as the floor stung the cuts on his side and shoulder, and found sleep easily, surprised he could do so on the dirty, cold floor.
so this is pretty long too I guess... But it also explains why their father randomly shows up in Brooklyn when Dollface is there in my other story. Cuz I totally planned it that way. I'm like JK Rowling... it all works out in the end... Kinda. Anyway, please review!