Chapter 3- Calling it Quits
Got a pistol for a mouth, my old mama gave me that
Making my own road out of gravel and some wine
And if I have to fall then it won't be in your line
~Gin Wigmore: Black Sheep~
My mind began racing on hyper-drive as I think of ways to get to work on time. Maybe, just maybe, if I was fast enough I would arrive in time. I had to try. Swinging my feet over the edge of the bed, I haphazardly put on her dress from the day before. Not even bothering to tidy my hair, I sprinted to the staircase dodging newsboys every few feet. The boys just stare at me with a look of confusion.
"I'm late!" I shout.
"You might want shoes," Jack yells after me. I bound back up the stairs, put on the shoes, and carry on my way.
Lady Luck was on my side today. As I arrive at the factory, I observe that the doors remain unlocked. I let out a sigh of relief and step through the entrance of the humid factory. Little did I know that Mr. Dunnigan was standing guard right next to the entrance. The very moment I set foot into the factory, he grabs my arm and yanks me roughly to the side.
"You're late," He states, not a single trace of sympathy visible on his face. "My office, now."
I follow him obediently up the metal steps to his office. Some of the workers just gaze at me with a sympathetic expression, but quickly return to their work before they are seen off task.
"What possible reason do you have for being late?" He interrogates, "Not with those vile newsboys you're always spending time with, I hope. But then again, I wouldn't put it pass you to sleep with one of them," he eyes me up and down. I hadn't had the chance to look in a mirror, but I knew I must not look good in this disheveled state. Hair flying in all directions, and the same dress she had worn yesterday, only with more wrinkles.
"Let's get things clear, I would never sleep with one of boys. They're practically my family!" I snap at him.
"Tut tut. That's sweet. You actually think those boys like you. Let me help you get things clear. No one will ever like you. You're merely property."
I was almost at a loss for words. At this point, I am throwing caution to the wind. My fists were clenching and unclenching at the false accusations. I had enough, enough of his elitist, selfish, uncaring attitude. I couldn't help but to continue on my rant.
"You treat these woman and children like vermin. I'd like to see you try and do half as good as we can at this job! You will never understand because you have everything you could ever want. You are stuck up and desensitized like all those other rich people who couldn't care less what happen to us as long as you make a couple bucks while you're at it!" I scream, unleashing the thoughts that had been boiling up for the past 8 years.
"How dare you speak to me like that," He says in a dangerously low voice, "You know what we do to people like you? They get punished." And he pulls a hot iron poker out from the fireplace. But before the red hot iron could touch my skin, I reach over to his desk and grabbed his empty bottle of wine, hitting him on the head hard enough to knock him out. He falls limply to the floor, and I run out the office door before any of the other managers notice what happened.
I silently curse as I remember that all the doors are locked during working hours. I make my way to the back of the bottom floor of the factory, trying stay out of sight. I move a few boxes only to reveal a dusty window. I hit it with the sole of my shoe, causing panes of glass to shatter. I then hoist myself through the small opening. Breathing in sharply as I felt my forearm stinging from the pain of getting cut on ragged edges of the glass. I push the thoughts of pain to the back of my head, and let the new feeling of freedom consume me. I was never coming back to this place, ever.
I wander around the streets of New York at a loss of what to do. I berate myself at my stupidity of getting fired. I'm out of a job now with no money. I decide the best thing to do is just to head back to the orphanage. I hold my arm tightly trying to cut off the circulation to reduce the loss of blood. The excruciating pain grew more and more as time went on. It didn't look pretty, either. A familiar voice reached my ears:
"Man arrested after attempted burglary of the mayor's gold porcelain throne!" Mush hawks, "improvin' the truth" as Jack calls it. A few people hastily made their way to him to buy a morning edition of The World. He caught my eye and brushed off the rest of his costumers and made his way towards me.
"Your arm! What on earth 'appened?! Oh gawd this is bad. Alright, we needs to get ya to a doctor."
"Whoa, whoa, slow your horses buddy." I sooth him, appearing calmer on the outside than I really am. To tell you the truth, I am a wreck. My feet are soaking wet from the slush on the sidewalk; I'm freezing, and I'm starting to get a headache from all of the stress.
"Here," He hands me a paper to try and staunch the bleeding. "Follow me." I trail Mush on the familiar path to Tibby's, a restaurant often visited by the newsies.
A bell rung as Mush opens the door to the restraint, and motioned for me to go inside. We went and joined the rest of the boys. Specs stood up, and told me to sit in his spot as he went and pulled up a chair from one of the other tables.
"Ya look awful," Race informs me.
"Gee, thanks."
"You never told me what happened. No trying to switch the topic either," Mush interrupts.
I inhale a deep breath and tell them of today's events at the factory. It bothers me that the newsies got their fight for rights, but the women and children of the factories are still suffering.
"So wait, he was actually gonna hurt ya?" Jack asks in astonishment once I finish telling them everything.
"Yeah, he was," I put my head in my hands. "Oh God, I don't know what I am going to do now," I whimper at a loss for words.
"First things first, we're gonna go to the lodge and get your arm fixed up," Jack said, but then signaled for Crutchy and Race to talk to him in private. Their whispers were too quiet to make anything out of what they were saying, so I just focus on the hot tea that's in front of me. I catch a glimpse them looking at me, and then continue their whispered conversation.
"C'mon Kate. We're headin' back to the lodge now," Jack says.
*Now Edited* Make sure to share any ideas you have about what you want to happen next. I got a little bit of a writer's block in this chapter but it should hopefully pick up soon!