warning: this chapter is a little more... violent than the others. so proceed with caution
Crutchie was too tired and happy to notice anything strange. It wasn't until he was already inside that he realized the room had gone dead silent. Standing right in front of the window, as if he had been waiting for him, was Snyder. Crutchie looked behind him and saw a guard maintaining a firm grip on Rover's arm.
"Hello, Andrew," Snyder said, far too gleefully. "Had a nice little outing, did we?"
"I went out for some fresh air," Crutchie lied quickly. "It was stuffy in here and I couldn't-" Snyder brought his cane down on Crutchie's head. He fell to the ground, completely disoriented.
"I heard you talking earlier you little brat," he said, spit flying from his mouth. "Just before I came in here earlier I heard you talking to that Rover boy. You said a boy named Bird was coming to the fire escape. Then just now you talked about the strike. You said Dollface was at the refuge and Jack at Pulitzer's office." Crutchie froze, realizing all the information Snyder had overheard. About the strike. About Jack. About Dollface.
"Well guess what kid?" he said so mockingly. "That's all I wanted to know in the first place. Looks like I'm going to Pulitzer's office." He punched Crutchie hard in the head, and he saw bright lights, the world spinning and nothing coming into focus. Crutchie's head felt like lead as he collapsed completely. The sounds around him were quickly fading.
"And I'll have to make a quick stop by the boardin house too," Crutchie heard Snyder's distant voice say. He felt a moment of pure panic just before he passed out.
Suddenly, Crutchie felt like he had run into a brick wall. He woke up with a start, gasping as his eyes jumped open. His face stung. Standing in front of him was Charlie, rubbing his hands together, and Bull stood behind him, a smirk on his face. Crutchie tried to move but found he couldn't. His arms were tied to the back of a chair. He looked around and once again found himself in the dark cellar that he had come to associate with fights.
"What do you want?" Crutchie asked bitingly.
"Snyda's lettin us go early," Charlie said happily. "We just gotta do one little job first and then we's free to go."
"A job? And what's that?" Crutchie asked, though he knew the answer. Charlie punched him in the jaw.
"That," he said with a shrug.
"Snyda also wants us to ask you some questions," Bull said, stepping forward.
"Course he does," Crutchie said, spitting out blood. "Wouldn't be a proper interrogation if there wasn't any questions, now would it?"
"Then again, he said you're not likely to answer them," Bull continued. "So he left it up to us as to how to get the answers from you."
"First question," Charlie said. "Who and where is Spot Conlon?" Though he hated Conlon, Crutchie would never rat on another newsie, never.
"He's a lowlife, that's who he is," Crutchie said. He prepared himself for a blow, either a kick or a punch, but it didn't come. Suddenly Charlie moved behind him and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back. Crutchie felt like his hair would rip from his scalp. Then Bull came over with a bucket of water and slowly poured it over Crutchie's face. Crutchie coughed and choked as water filled his mouth and nose. He could barely breath and tried to wriggle out of Charlie's grasp. Finally the water stopped and Charlie let go. Cruthie continued coughing and gasping for air.
"Who is this Conlon kid? Where is he?" Bull asked again.
"I don't know," Crutchie said, breathing heavily. "He moves around a lot. But he ain't no body to worry about."
"We'll decide that," Bull said, crossing his arms. "Next question. Who's this Bird kid?"
"Now that I really don't know," Crutchie said. "I'm new here, I don't know much." Charlie once again grabbed his head, pulling it back, as Bull took another bucket of water.
"I don't know who he is!" Crutchie shouted desperately, Bull holding the bucket over his head. "He's just an outside man! I don't know anything!"
"We highly doubt that," Bull said, pouring the water once again in his face. Knowing what was coming this time, Crutchie took a deep breath and tried to hold it as the water poured over his face. But Charlie saw this and wrenched his hair between his fingers, making Crutchie scream and choke on water. When Bull finished, Crutchie felt like passing out.
"It's alright though," Charlie said, stepping out of the way as Crutchie coughed up water. "Snyda's wit that kid, Rover. I'm sure he'll know much more about Bird than you." Crutchie's heart sank.
"Go tell Snyda to let Rover go," Crutchie said. "This is my battle to fight. No one else is gettin hurt cuz of me." Bull reached into his pocket, pulling out a match. He struck it on the wall and then handed it to Charlie, who was holding a fork.
"The thing is," he said, holding the fork in the orange flame, "it ain't really up to us to let Rover go or not. So eitha you's gonna tell us or he is."
"Ain't neitha of us is gonna tell," Crutchie said, wondering what Charlie was going to do with the fork.
"You think that now little newsboy," he said, blowing out the match as the flame came to his fingers, "But not in a minute you won't." Charlie came nearer with the fork and Crutchie realized what he was going to do. He kicked his legs frantically but Charlie dodged them. He then pressed the red hit prongs of the fork to Crutchie's bare chest. Crutchie screamed as his skin sizzled.
"You ready to tell us now?" Bull asked as Charlie took away the fork.
"There ain't nothin for me to tell," Crutchie said, his skin stinging. "Next question." Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Bull opened it and a guard stood there.
"The boss says to keep it quiet," he told them. "He doesn't want the whole refuge to hear it and wonder what's going on."
"Yessir," Bull nodded and the door closed again. Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief.
"Hope ya like the taste of snot," he said, tying it tightly around Crutchie's mouth. Bull took another match out and lit it, once again holding the fork under the flame.
"So another question you say," Charlie said pacing around. "Well we don't really need more information. Snyda said he only wanted to know 'bout Conlon and Bird. He left the rest up to us." This time Bull pressed the fork to his chest. Crutchie screamed again but the cloth around his mouth muffled the sound.
"I suppose we do got a few more questions," Charlie said, as Bull pressed down harder on his skin. Charlie snapped and Bull backed off.
"How's our friends the Delancey's doin?" Charlie asked. Crutchie widened his eyes in surprise, making Charlie laugh. "Yeah, we's real good pals wit 'em." Crutchie felt stupid. He should have known Bull and Charlie had picked up their bullying skills from the Delanceys.
"They was always talkin to us 'bout you dumb newsies," Bull said. "They hate you guys. You's always causin trouble for them two. And you don't even hafta work that hard. Ya just stand outside for a few hours and scream at people to buy papes."
"Although they do seem to like one of you newsies," Charlie said, a perverted smirk on his face. "That Dollface." Crutchie aimed a kick at him but he jumped out of the way.
"Oh that's right, she's ya sista, ain't she?" he said mockingly. "Boy, the Delanceys told us all 'bout her. Said she's not real smart. And that she's a loudmouth. And a real bitch." Crutchie kicked again and was able to connect with Charlie's knee. He responded by punching him in the mouth, busting open his lip.
"But they also said she's damn fine," Bull said and then let out a small moan that made Crutchie shake with anger. "She's small ain't she. But she's got a great ass, I heard. Boy, first thing I'm doin when I get out is hookin up with that. Bet she's a good fuck." Crutchie kicked again and his foot hit Bull right in the crotch. He collapsed to the floor, groaning in pain.
"You little shit," Charlie shouted, kicking Crutchie's bad leg. He let out a strangled cry as pain stabbed his shin. "You don't like that much, do ya?" Then he kicked him again, so hard it knocked the chair over sideways. Crutchie's shoulder and head smashed to the ground.
"Sure hope ya sista don't got no gimp," Charlie said, leaning down in his face. "Not that I wouldn't lay her anyway." Crutchie wrestled hard against his restraints but it was useless. Charlie then stomped down hard on his leg, breaking a bone for sure. Crutchie squeezed his eyes shut as tears escaped and cried out in pain.
"Come on, Bull," Charlie said, helping his friend off the ground. "Let's go tell Mr. Snyda we did a job well done." They laughed and left Crutchie alone, lying on the floor in agony.
A while after Bull and Charlie left, a guard came in. He cut the rope binding him to the chair and Crutchie collapsed over on his stomach. He reached up a shaky hand and pulled the cloth away from his mouth. He was exhausted and his whole body was in pain. He felt something light get tossed at him.
"Picked ya up a new shirt, kid," the guard said, giving him a sympathetic look. "I'm real sorry this is happening to ya." He quietly left the room again. Crutchie slowly gained the energy to sit up. He looked down at his chest, at the marks the fork had left. The skin was very raw where he had been burned. Crutchie was sure it would become infected. Then he looked down at his leg. Charlie had broken a bone in his shin. He could see it bent out more unusually than normal. Pain shot through his leg at every movement but he bit down on his lip.
Once he had slipped on the shirt he was given, he looked around for something he could use to temporarily fix his leg. He knew if he didn't do something, it would get much worse. But all that was in the room were two empty buckets, a chair, and some rope. Then Crutchie got an idea. He didn't dare stand up, he knew he couldn't do that without his crutch, so he crawled toward the chair. Then he picked it up by the back and threw it across the room. It broke into several pieces. Crutchie chose one of the broken legs of the chair and untied the cloth from around his neck. Then he moved to sit up against the wall. He scrunched up the collar of the shirt and leaned down to bite it, knowing how painful this would be.
Finally he slammed down his fist on his shin and popped the bone back into place, so it wasn't sticking out like it had been. Pain blinded him and he thought he would surely pass out. He bit down hard on the fabric that muffled his scream. Once the excruciating pain passed, he ripped the cloth into smaller strips. Then he placed the small piece of wood next to the broken part of his leg and tied it in place. It wasn't too comfortable and did nothing to stop the pain but at least it wouldn't get any worse.
Now Crutchie just had to sit and wait for something to happen. So he sat. And sat. And sat until finally he laid down and went to sleep, deciding he might as well get some rest. He knew whatever was to come wouldn't be good.
Yeah... like I said, it's a lot worse than the other chapters. but I promise, poor Crutchie's abuse is coming to an end soon. But now we know why Snyder goes to Pulitzer's office and the boarding house in my other story, right? ... I'm sorry Crutchie, baby...