Newsies surged around Jack and Fawkes as they were released back onto the street.
"Buy back papes?" Jack's voice was meant to be a whisper, but he had to shout to be heard.
"They knew what we wanted. They would have given it to us, they might have even made us haggle for it. I wasn't in a mood to play games. Getting them to buy back papes would save a lot of us when there's a crappy headline."
Jack made a face, "Headlines don't sell papes, newsies sell papes."
"That's not the point. They wanted us to concede, to take less than we offered. By voicing an option I knew that they would hate, they had no choice but to accept our original terms."
Jack grinned, "You always were good at cutting deals."
"You doubted me?"
"No, sometimes I just forget."
Fawkes grinned and they acknowledged the newsies buzzing around them, wanting to know the results.
Jack climbed onto the gate of the circulation center, and the folks in his vicinity silenced. The hush raced out into the crowd and all eyes fixed on the Cowboy.
"We won!" He announced.
People rippled and surged as they shared the good news with the folks around them. The volume, which started out as a soft hum after Jack's announcement, exploded into cheers as news got round.
The gates were pushed open and Jack was forced to dismount.
It was time for circulation if the strike was over.
Jack and Fawkes grinned and shook hands standing in front of the open gates, congratulating each other on a job well done, when a silence descended on the crowd.
A police wagon was approaching.
Their hands dropped and their eyes widened. Had Pulitzer double-crossed them?
Denton grabbed Jack as the pair started to flee.
Fawkes had already analyzed this. She knew getting out of the square would be hard. What if she fled via the circulation side door? That hadn't been a possible escape route before. Right now it seemed like the only option...
Just as Fawkes was about to bolt, Jack grabbed her arm. "Denton says we don't have to run anymore."
"You might not-" Fawkes said. She was frozen in place, watching the wagon draw nearer, Snyder at the reins.
"Just wait," Denton assured her
The police wagon pulled to a stop and the three men riding in the front clambered off. One of the officers opened the door and many a newsie stepped out into the sun. Into freedom.
The last one out was Crutchy, the boy Jack and Fawkes had tried to rescue from the Refuge some days ago. How was this possible? What was going on? Fawkes looked to Denton, baffled, but he, like everyone else, was watching Snyder.
One of the officers double-checked the interior before the second one pushed Snyder towards the stairs. Fawkes could see now the man was handcuffed as he was loaded into the wagon.
What was going on?
Crutchy loitered near the cops and was allowed to shut the door and slide the bolt.
A cheer went up from the newsies. Well, from any homeless kid, of which, there were more than a few in attendance.
Crutchy gimped over to where Jack was standing, a grin on his face, "Oh man, you should have seen it! He came into the Refuge waving his walking stick like a sword-"
"Who?" Jack wanted to know.
"Your friend! Mr. Roosevelt!" Crutchy nodded into the distance. In the wake of the police wagon was an open-topped carriage. Inside was a plump man wearing a top hat and spectacles, waving at the crowd and shaking hands.
Fawkes raised a brow, "You know Teddy Roosevelt?"
Jack grinned and Crutchy gaped, "You mean he never told you the story?"
"No…" Fawkes was eyeing them both carefully. Newsies had a habit of improving the truth. She wasn't sure she was going to believe much of this story.
"When I escaped the Refuge, I told you I jumped on the back of a carriage…" Jack trailed off, looking over at Roosevelt.
Fawkes followed his line of sight, "His carriage? You hitched a ride on the back of the governor's carriage?"
"You don't believe me?" Jack sounded hurt.
Fawkes couldn't find anything to say. You don't choose the circumstances of escape. You take what you're given and make it work. She knew that.
Denton spoke up, "I made sure the governor got a copy of our special edition. He's a man who doesn't like to be tricked. He'll make sure Snyder is brought to justice. To thank you two for bringing the matter to light, he's offered to take you anywhere you want to go."
"Like the trainyards?" Jack's voice was quiet as he looked down at his feet.
"Or the boatyard?" Fawkes looked at Jack.
The grins and gleeful looks of their companions fell off their faces.
Jack and Fawkes didn't notice. They were thinking that the impossible had happened. Was it possible their dreams could finally come true?
Jack glanced up at Denton who shrugged. The Cowboy grinned at Fawkes, "Wanna go meet Teddy Roosevelt? Way I recall it, he seems to be the one person in the world you don't know."
Fawkes grinned, "I'd love for you to introduce me, being where you two know each other so well."
The pair started off for the waiting carriage. They both turned within a step and mouthed their thanks to Denton.
He saluted them in response.
They nodded and continued on their way.
The crowd was dispersing.
The circulation bell rang.
The newsies waved until the carriage rolled out of sight, then proceeded, heads bowed, to form the line to buy their papers.
"So, you're the brains behind the strike?" Roosevelt grinned at them as they rolled along.
Fawkes looked at Jack and he looked back. They both nodded.
"Why'd you do it?"
They looked at each other again, not sure what was safe to say. How much had Denton told him? Could they trust the word of a politician? They'd just gone up against Pulitzer. This man was much more genial and they weren't sure how to handle it.
"The boys told me they couldn't afford it," Jack shrugged. "The trolley strike was going on too, so we took our lead from them."
"And you got all the boroughs on board, and all the newspapers?"
The pair nodded.
"And you did it because your boys couldn't pay?" Roosevelt was still grinning. "Even though you could?"
Jack and Fawkes exchanged looks but didn't say anything.
"Does that matter?" Fawkes asked at last.
"It's interesting," Roosevelt allowed.
"Why?" Jack wanted to know.
"When I went to go visit the former warden to confirm what you kids wrote in that article, he told me about you two. That you'd escaped custody-on my own carriage no less, and that you, Miss, were wanted out west. He was lying about how he was spending his funds, so it was possible that he was lying about you two, but before he left, I made him unearth your records." Roosevelt eyed the pair of them, "It strikes me as odd, that if you were the hardened criminals Mr. Snyder and the records make you out to be, why would you risk your new aliases to help someone other than yourself?"
"Because we're not hardened criminals," Fawkes made a face. "We've got no family in this world. We had to find our own ways to make ends meet. Self-preservation won out over law-abiding for me. I've made mistakes, everyone has. I ignored laws that would have made me starve. When I was younger I didn't fully understand the repercussions. I've spent my time since trying to live rightly. When Pulitzer changed the price I saw my opportunity to compensate for my mistakes. I joined the fight because the newsies were just trying to live honestly and the man upstairs was making that impossible."
"Newsies are sort of a brotherhood," Jack added. "You squabble over turf and fight other papers, but at the end of the day, you're all sleeping in the same place. In that way, newsies are the only family we have. A good chunk of us are orphans and its the only decent job we can get. We gotta support each other through the hard times. That's why we stuck around. We told them to stand up for what they believed in. How could we do that and not stand up ourselves? We gave them a voice. It meant that we became figureheads, which drew a lot of fire, because of what we'd done, but we knew it was going to happen. Who else was going to be able to handle what they dished out except for two kids who have always been on the wrong side of authority?"
"Which is another part that puzzles me," Roosevelt admitted. "You fought alongside those newsies, literally, risked exposure and jail time, and worse, and now that you've won, you're leaving?"
Fawkes and Jack turned sheepish. "Sir," Fawkes began, "if you've seen my file, you know I'm wanted out west. I came to New York to get away from that. To work and to save for passage to Ireland. The strike made saving hard to do, but I found another job. I've got the money now."
"I'm wanted for theft and escape," Jack blew out a breath. "I've been trying to save money to go west to start out fresh. Pulitzer gave me some bribe money so I can finally afford to do that."
"You're moving on. That's good," Roosevelt nodded. "What about all the boys you're going to leave behind? The ones you fought so hard for. Did you think about how your leaving is going to affect them?"
Fawkes and Jack looked at each other for a long time. They hadn't. Their only thought had been to get out of New York while they still could. Before someone threw another charge at them. They tripped over themselves to try to explain this aspect to Roosevelt.
He nodded and smiled. "I understand. You want fresh starts. You finally have money in your pockets to do the stuff you've always dreamed of."
They nodded.
"What if I offered you another choice?"
The teens looked confused.
"Miss Fawkes, you're eighteen, right?"
"Yessir," she answered uncertainly.
"And Jack, you're seventeen, right?"
"Yes," Jack said.
"How would you feel about a governor's pardon?"
Their eyes went wide.
"That way, you Jack, could start fresh and not have to run away to do it. Miss Fawkes, I will apply to the states in which you are wanted to see how best we can get that resolved based on what I've seen and heard about here in New York."
Jack's eyes narrowed, "What's the catch?"
"Pardon?" Roosevelt rumbled.
"You're doing something for us, now we have to do something for you," Jack explained.
Roosevelt chuckled, "Well, you're almost adults in the eyes of the law. I think it's best you start that part of your life with a clean slate. As for what I'd like from you: it's recently come to my attention that there is an open position as the warden of the House of Refuge. You two strike me as a pair of folks who know how to handle the children that will happen through it's doors. It pays better than being a newsie, and, I see your faces, it doesn't have a good reputation. With you two in charge, you can change that. Turn it into a place of hope."
Jack looked flabberghasted.
Fawkes still had a sour look on her face.
"What's on your mind, Miss Fawkes?" Roosevelt wondered.
"It's just a lot to process," Fawkes admitted. "You're willing to attempt to clear our records and appoint us to government positions, based solely on our strike efforts? I feel like we are underqualified. Inadequate…"
Roosevelt laughed, "I would have chosen resourceful and driven. I think you two possess the skills that would allow you to succeed in such an environment."
"Can we think about it?" Jack asked.
"That is the hard part," Roosevelt remarked, putting Jack and Fawkes immediately on their guard. He laughed at their reactions, "The destinations you asked me to drop you off at are not conducive if I expect a reply."
Fawkes made a face, "You're right." She looked at Jack, "What do you want to do?"
"The idea of a steady paycheck has me interested," he admitted.
"Should we go back?"
Jack grinned, "Let's."
Teddy smiled and instructed his driver to return them to the distribution center.
As they bounced along the cobbles on their way back, Fawkes spoke up, "I have a concern."
"I'd love to hear it," Roosevelt said.
"If we were to accept this position-and I'm not saying we will-aren't we a little young for folks to take us seriously?"
"You've been appointed by the state's governor. No one will question that. Especially when they hear you stood toe-to-toe with Mr. Pulitzer and didn't flinch, not to mention, that you got him to back down on his position," Roosevelt's grin was back.
Fawkes nodded, "Okay, well, if we were to take this position-and I'm not saying we will-I don't think the House of Refuge is a good home base. Maybe it could be turned into a sort of holding center-or something. I think the Refuge would be more beneficial outside of the city. I know I couldn't live in here forever. If there's more space we could make a campus and perhaps teach those that come to us some skills so that when they get out, they'll be able to join the workforce instead of resuming a life of crime."
Roosevelt nodded, "If you take the position, I'd like to see a written plan of your intentions and changes."
Fawkes nodded.
They rounded the corner and the square came into view.
A cheer came up from the newsies loitering around the distribution center as they sat and read their papes, looking for headlines.
They jumped to a stand and crowded the carriage as it drew close.
"What are you doing back here?" Racetrack demanded, a stack of papers under one arm, a cigarette in his free hand.
"Just couldn't stay away," Jack boasted, vaulting out of the carriage. He turned to shake Roosevelt's hand and express his thanks.
"When do you want an answer?" Fawkes asked as she climbed out.
"How about the end of the week?" Roosevelt suggested.
"How will we get ahold of you?" Fawkes asked.
Roosevelt pulled a business card from his person and handed it to her, "I look forward to hearing from you."
Fawkes said her goodbyes and the carriage rolled out of sight.
"What was that about?" Spot wanted to know.
Fawkes turned to him, "What are you doing outside of Brooklyn? The strike's over."
"You saying I can't stray across the line?" Spot retorted. "Who's gonna stop me?"
Fawkes didn't reply. She was curious as to what he was still doing around.
"How's the headline today?" Jack asked.
The newsies grumbled in response and dispersed.
Jack laughed.
"What are you guys doing back here?" Racetrack repeated. "I thought nothing was going to come between you and your exotic locales."
Jack let out a snort and shook his head. It was Fawkes who responded, "Roosevelt offered us a job."
"Doing what?" Spot was making a face.
"Running the House of Refuge," Jack responded with a face of his own.
"What?" Racetrack roared.
"He says we can reform it. Make it a useful establishment instead of the hell we know," Fawkes hurried to explain.
"Are you going to go for it?" Spot asked.
"What about Ireland?" Racetrack wondered.
"If Roosevelt agrees to relocate it upstate, I'm in," Fawkes shrugged. "I'm sick of skyscrapers."
"Jack?" Race asked.
The teen shrugged, "If she's in, I guess I gotta be. Don't want her getting all the credit."
Racetrack and Spot looked at each other and then at Fawkes and Jack.
"You don't like the city?" Spot asked Fawkes.
"Never have," Fawkes admitted. "It's a means to an end."
"You know," Racetrack said, "I hear they raise the horses for the Sheepshead Races up that way."
Fawkes nodded that this was true, "You looking to get a job there?" He knew she used to work for a farm there.
"Could be," Race said, "if it means you and Jack'll be up there."
"You know a thing about horses."
"You could teach me before you go."
Fawkes shook her head, "Not gonna happen." She'd had enough of his foolishness. She went to go collect so papes to sell.
Spot stopped Race's attempt to trouble her any further, "Just do what I'm going to do the second these two get put in charge."
"What's that?" Jack wanted to know, a smile ready.
"Actually get caught for a crime I commit," Spot was grinning when Fawkes looked back at him. "You can't blame me," Spot said in response to her scowl, "free room and board, surrounded by people I actually like, it sounds like a nice vacation."
"I didn't know you liked people," Jack remarked crossing his arms.
It was Race who looked puzzled at the direction things had taken, "You've never left the city before. You'd sacrifice your kingship of Brooklyn, just to hang out with these two?"
Spot's eyes never left Fawkes's, "It'd be worth it."
The girl looked away, not sure she could handle the intensity of his offer. She was no stranger to his declarations, but this one was in front of a lot of people. She'd ignored him before now because she had to. The strike was her priority. Not getting murdered by Brookies was high up there too. Avoiding Snyder. Pretending to be a boy. The list was pretty long. With the strike over, her identities revealed, and Snyder gone, she didn't have a reason to keep pushing him away.
He was younger than her, but that wasn't a huge deal. He'd liked her from the get-go, when she had her cowboy hat, when her hair was long. He didn't get all ornery when she beat him up and he'd pursued her despite them living in different boroughs. He was still trying.
Fawkes looked to Jack for help.
"I don't think it'd be good for the warden to be seen having social relations with an inmate," Jack said. "We'll see if we can get you a job."
Fawkes managed a shy smile. "You'll like it," she promised. "They've got fields that go on for miles. Some of 'em are even lined with stone walls. I used to pretend I was in Ireland when I was up there."
"Can you get me a job too?" Racetrack wondered.
Jack laughed, wrapping an arm around either boy and pulling them close, "We're going to have so much fun!"
*Author's Note: So ends the story. Happy endings and new beginnings (maybe?). Thanks for reading! Thanks especially to NASA (and everyone else) for the reviews throughout! I really appreciated them! If you liked this, you should check out my original fiction over Fictionpress. My penname there is fireintrouble (shameless plug! I know!). Thanks again!*