Chapter 16- Preparing for the Battle
I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up
~Jason Mraz: I Won't Give Up~
Jack's POV
"Hey Jack!" I turn when I see one of the younger boys running towards me.
"There's an article in heah about Kate. Said he court date is set for the nineteenth."
"We'll be there. Go and tell the rest of the boys," Jack instructs, sending the boy on his way.
Things had changed since Kate had been gone. One of Spot's birdies ended up finding out where Kate was taken. When they found out, they knew there was no hope of saving her. Fights broke out more often, and reasons for celebration became few and far between. I contemplated leaving to Santa Fe a few times, but decided against leaving them in such a tense time. It was almost comical how a girl we had known for ten months now, seven before she entered The Tombs, manages to weasel her way into our hearts so quickly.
Three days later, the boys found themselves outside of the surprisingly crowded courthouse. Amid the sea of bodies, they spotted their old friend Denton.
"You guys go on ahead. I'm gonna see what's goin' on with all these people," Jack saunters off in the other direction, pushing people off to the side every now and then. "Denton! Any idea what all dis commotion's about? It's like half of the city's reportahs showed up." Jack claps Denton on the shoulder.
"It's the trial today. The one with the girl in the factory. You know her, right?
"Yeah. Her name's Kate. They're here about her?"
"Ever since we got word of the case it's been causing a big uproar for the factories. Kids and woman coming out and telling all of these horror stories, and the public is outraged. This- this case- this is gonna be big, and it might even be bigger than the newsboys strike."
"Well there's no betta man to cover this than you, Denton," Jack laughs and makes his way up the stairs alongside the reporter, while trying to catch up with the rest of the newsies. "Hey, you said you had a friend who was gonna be a lawyer for Kate, right? We need the best we can get."
"No worries Jack, I've got a friend who owes me a favor and is willing to fight for Kate. She's been preparing for a case like this for months, and knows how important it is to us," Denton tells him, trying to alleviate his concerns.
"Wait-she?! As in a lady? There ain't any woman lawyers in New York!"
"She's fresh and she's smart. And you can be sure as hell that she won't go down without a fight."
"But ya forgetting that they have all the money. And we'se all know that whoever can bribe the judge wid the most money ends up winnin'."
"That's not how the strike turned out. And you took on two of the richest men of New York." Denton winks at Jack and then leaves to go find a seat in the press box of the standing-room-only courtroom.
Kate's POV
I was being led towards the same table that I had last sat at with my old foreman, but this time the person sitting there was on my side.
"Estella. Estella Jones. Sit, please." Her tone was professional but she gave off a kind demeanor. "Let's start off easy. Your full name is Kathleen Margaret Astaire. You lived on the streets until they took you into St. Mary's Orphanage for Abandoned Adolescents. Where you then began to work at the textile mill on West 37th Street and 8th Avenue until you were adopted by Mr. Kloppman, is that all correct?"
"How-how did you know?" My brow creases at all of the information she just told me.
"I'm your lawyer. It is my job to know the real story. And we have very little time so you must tell me everything.
"Well…" I start. She wanted to know everything, so that's exactly what I did. I told her about my childhood, horrific stories from the factory, the day of the incident, and everything after.
"There is only one thing I need you to do tomorrow when you are testifying at the trial: you may be speaking in appeal to the jury, but you are also speaking to the audience. Whatever the outcome of the trial, you're voice will be heard by the people in that room.
The next morning I move from the Tombs and put into one of the city's cars. It is a short drive from the Lower East Side to 31 Chambers Street. The entrance is crammed with reporters, all with a pen and paper at the ready. I was taken off-guard when they all flock towards me the second I step out of the car, yelling questions over one another.
My parole officers attempt to make a pathway for me amid the chaos, and soon we were under the awning of the marble-carved, behemoth of a building. The courtroom to which I was to be tried in became deathly quiet as I enter. Honestly, I was becoming annoyed at all the unusual attention I was getting. The chatter picks up again as I walk down the main isle, and I glance around the room to find all of my friends here. Medda, almost all of the Manhattan newsies, Denton, and even Spot Conlon showed up. Some other people who were blocked by the large number of people squeezed into the tiny courtroom. Snipeshooter tries to run up and give me a hug, but was stopped by a police officer. Medda sent me a sympathetic look while some of the boys gave me a thumbs up for good luck.
As I sat down in my chair next to Estella and her pile of file folders, I got my first chance to see the jury selection. All of them were white. All of them were men. And all of them were some of the most crooked and dishonest bosses in New York City. I could almost see my chance diminish before my very eyes. But I had one thing going for me, Estella Jones was not the type of lawyer to back down from a fight, and that gave me hope.