1896
"Alright, show 'em," said Anthony, or Race, as the newsies has nicknamed him, the stub of a cigar between his teeth. Spot laid down his cards – a pair of twos. Grace laid down her cards – nothing. "Read 'em and weep, kids!" Race proudly displayed his full house.
"Why do we even bother?" asked Grace as Race pulled the small pile of coins toward himself.
"I don't know," Race grinned. "We've been playin' poker since we were eight…you still haven't beat me."
"I beat you when we play gin rummy," said Grace.
Race smirked and was about to make a smartass remark when they heard yelling out in front of the lodging house. They all shared a look before rushing to the front of the lodging house. The other Brooklyn newsies were already there, looking out the door or the window.
"What's going on?" asked Grace, trying to see around the taller boys.
"Knuckle is taking on a couple of fellas from Red Hook," said Blaze.
"What are Red Hook newsies doin' around here?" frowned Race.
Blaze shrugged.
"Gracie, go up to your room," said Spot.
"What? Why?"
"Just go." With that, Spot pushed through the newsies that had crowded around the front door and stumbled onto the snow-covered street.
Grace pushed her way to one of the windows and watched.
"Well well well, if it ain't the little squirt," she heard one of the Red Hook boys say.
"Spot, get out of here, go back inside," said Knuckle. "This don't have anything to do with you."
"Not when you're outnumbered three to one," said Spot.
"Gracie, get away from the window," said Race, reaching for her arm.
"No," said Grace, pulling away.
"It's gonna get ugly out there," said Race.
"I don't care."
But as soon as the scuffle began, she was covering her eyes, only occasionally taking a peek to see where Spot was. None of the Brooklyn boys ran out to help.
"Why aren't you doing anything?" she pushed the boy next to her. "They need help out there!"
"Ain't our fight, Grace," he said.
"But Knuckle and Spot need your help!" said Grace. "That alone should be enough for you to be out there!"
A collective gasp from the newsies watching caused Grace to look back out the window.
Spot was on the ground, holding his side. Knuckle was lying on the ground, unmoving. Two of the Red Hook boys were standing beside and behind their leader.
"Let that be a lesson to all of North Brooklyn!" the leader yelled at the boys watching through the windows. "Stay out of Red Hook!" He spit on Knuckle's body and the three of them walked away.
Grace pushed her way through the crowd and burst out the door.
"Spot!" She rushed over to him and put her arm around him. "What happened? What hurts?"
"I'm fine," said Spot, wincing as Grace helped him stand up. "How's Knuckle?"
Grace looked behind her and saw a dark red stain spreading on Knuckle's shirt.
"Not good."
Grace tried to help Spot walk inside, but he brushed her off. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Help Knuckle."
Grace let him go, allowing him to walk into the lodging house on his own strength.
She turned around and walked over to Knuckle. She knelt next to his body and saw he wasn't breathing, and his eyes were blankly staring ahead.
She stood up and turned around.
Spot had gone inside and Race stood in the doorway. Grace just shook her head. Knuckle was dead.
Spot sat on one of the benches, letting Grace tend to him. She kept a cold cloth pressed to the side of his face, which was helping minimally with the pain.
He looked up at her. "How is he?"
Grace glanced at his eyes and then went back to paying attention to his shiner. "Gone."
Spot closed his eyes. He should've known better. He knew that Knuckle had trouble with the Red Hook boys, but he didn't know what. He thought he had been doing the right thing, backing his leader, but it only ended up with him getting soaked.
"Hey Spot?" Blaze walked up to him. "What should we do with Knuckle's body? Won't be good news for any of us if someone finds it."
"Take him to the river," said Spot.
Blaze nodded. He glanced over at Grace, his gaze lingering long enough for Spot to notice before he walked away.
"They're already lookin' to you," said Grace quietly. Spot looked at her. Grace shrugged. "These boys don't do well without a leader."
He sighed. He wasn't surprised. When they had moved into the lodging house two years ago, Knuckle had taken Spot under his wing – taught him how to sell the papes, showed him how to deal with lodging house fights, and taught him how to keep the peace with the local street gangs. Whenever Spot wasn't with Grace, he'd been with Knuckle. It was natural that after Knuckle was gone, the boys would look to him.
But he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind for the moment. His main concern was the look he saw Blaze give Grace before he walked away. He knew Blaze, and he knew what was always on his mind. Spot did not want Grace anywhere near Blaze.
He decided that his first message as leader would be unspoken, yet clear.
His Gracie was off limits.