Mush's father was an ace reporter for "The World", Nicholas Meyers. Mush was named after him. And his mother stayed at home to take care of him. They weren't filthy rich like Pulitzer and Hearst but they were pretty well-to-do. When Mush was four, his aunt on his mother's side and his uncle got into a bad train accident. And Mush's cousin, Roselia, was orphaned. His parents adopted her, they were her only family, and she became his sister.
"And when we were both eight years old, my - our parents died in a fire. They went to the theater and the whole stage went up in flames. They were in the front row. In the papers it said my dad carried my dying mother out the door and then collapsed because of the smoke and died." Mush blinked back tears and tried to keep his voice from cracking. "That night Roselia and me were woken up and taken to Pulitzer's office. There wasn't anyone left to take care of us."
Pulitzer made a decision for Mush and Roselia quickly. Rosie was taken to a girls' boarding school in Brooklyn and Mush was taken to the Newsboys Lodging house. The nuns gave him a bible and a change of clothes. And Mr. Pulitzer handed him a quarter and pushed him out the door.
"Pulitzer told me that Roselia had a chance to become a proper lady and move up in society, get married into a rich family and all that. But he said that I was too young for him to tell if I would be an honest worker. He said if I made a living as a newsie and stayed at the lodging house, he would pay me to sell papers when I turned 16 years old. My birthday's next month and I haven't heard from him since. I'm stuck a newsie until I can earn enough money to leave New York." Mush realized he didn't once mention how he got his name.
"Oh," he said, "so I lived - or actually, I'm still living at the lodging house. About two years ago, Jack Kelly caught me on my first date with a girl. I took her to the fountain in Central Park and tried to kiss her." he blushed a little, "She smacked me right in the face. The boys teased me and they've called me Mush ever since. I guess the name just stuck."
Spark squeezed his hand and blinked back tears from Mush's story. She didn't expect him to open up for her like that. "So you're not a Casanova. You're more like Romeo." Spark remembered from the stories her sister had told her.
Mush blushed again. "No one's ever called me that before." He hoped his and Spark's story ended better than Romeo and Juliet's. They approached Irving Hall, Medda's theatre. Mush turned to Spark and smiled. "Wanna see the best Vaudeville show in all of New York?"
Story broke into a fast walk through the semi-familiar alleyways of Manhattan. Spot sent her to find Spark. He wanted to have a meeting with all of his Brooklyn newsies about the strike and it was imperative that she be there. Story didn't want to keep Spot waiting. Especially because she knew she would have to deal with Chase who wouldn't be in a good mood. Chase had tried to convince Spot to let her go to Manhattan too, but he wouldn't.
Story, lost in her thoughts, ran right into someone.
"I am so sorry." She had to take a second look. The person she crashed into was wearing mostly blue, like Spark. But it was a boy with curly brown hair and blue eyes. Another boy was standing next to him, she recognized these boys. They had come to Brooklyn the day before.
"No, it was my fault. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." The boy said as he helped her up.
"Hey, you're one a' Spot's girls, ain't ya?" The other boy, Story recognised him as Jack Kelly said, "So did Spot send you to tell us he changed his mind about the strike?"
"No, um…" Story couldn't find the words to say, which was not like her.
"You look distressed, do you need help?" The other boy had an infectious smile and she really liked his voice.
Story nodded, "Yes, I'm trying to find my sister."
"There's a lot a' kids in this city," The other boy, Jack Kelly, said. "what does she look like?"
"She has long blonde hair and blue eyes. And she was wearing a blue shirt and black trousers."
Story and the boy locked eyes for a moment. "Oh, um…" She could feel herself blush.
"Th- that girl sounds like Spark." The boy stammered.
"That's her name! Could you help me find her, uh, I don't know your name."
"I'm David Jacobs."
"Story Masi." She said. They stared at each other again.
"Well," Said Jack, a small smile on his face. "Dave, why don't you help Story here find her sister. I gotta go find—rope. We'll need it later."
"But I—"
"Just go, Mister Prince Charming." Story giggled at Jack's joke, making David blush a little.
"That was wonderful! She's amazing!" Spark knew Chase would love something like this. She'd be so jealous when Spark got back to Brooklyn. It was already dark out. She should probably get back about now.
"Yeah, Medda's great." Said Mush, he turned to Spark. "Earlier I told you my story. What about yours?"
"Mine's not as interesting." She confessed. But Mush was already listening. "Alright then. I never knew my parents. Or at least, I don't remember them. Me and my sister Story lived at a horrible orphanage in Queens." Spark shuddered. Mush put his arm around her again and Spark's stomach filled with butterflies. "We escaped when I was 5 years old and the Bro— some newsies found us and took us in."
"What about your name, Miss Spark? I gotta hear about this one." Mush teased.
She looked down, embarrassed. "I got my name because I'm always starting trouble. People tell me I have a smart mouth. They also say I'm a little obnoxious."
"You, a smart mouth? Nah, I don't see that." Mush said half sarcastically, "You and Racetrack will make good friends."
Mush found himself leaning closer and closer to Spark. She really was gorgeous. But she didn't try too hard, that's what he liked about her. Just as they were mere inches from kissing, Mush stopped himself and pulled back. He'd only known this girl two days.
Spark pulled back from Mush, disappointed. He was so sweet and she could tell he really liked her. She really liked him.
"Where have you been?" Spark jumped as Story and David ran up to her and Mush. Good thing they hadn't kissed.
"I was here the whole time." Story didn't look convinced.
"We have to get back. We have something important to talk about. Now."
Spark let go of Mush's hand. But then she looked from Story to David. They were standing very close to each other. She raised her eyebrow. "Come on!" Story grabbed her wrist before Spark could say anything. "Thank's David!"
"No problem." He called to her.
"See you tomorrow, Mush" Spark said. "What was that?" She asked her sister.
"...Hold out, my gallant kids, an' tomorrow I me-self, at the head of three thousand noble hearts from Brooklyn will be over here to help yous win your noble scrap for freedom an' fair play." Spot said.
Chase felt relief wash over her when she heard him say those words to Bryan Denton, journalist for "The Sun". Earlier that morning they read that the boys back in Manhattan had been beaten the day before. And a crip named Crutchy had been the first prisoner of war by Pulitzer and Hearst.
Chase smiled, Spot put on his most haughty and intimidating look and crossed his arms as Denton took down the fact that he was wearing pink suspenders. One of the boys stole his red suspenders that morning, as a joke. Spot wasn't happy. He hadn't found out who did it, but Chase had a feeling Spot and whoever it was would have a nice "talking to" later.
Chase was the one who gave Spot those red suspenders. It was on her first Christmas as a newsie. She had saved pennies for months to buy them for him. She remembered the excited look on his face when she handed him the package: wrapped in newspaper and tied with a blue ribbon leftover from the Christmas decorations at the girls' lodging house. He looked positively ecstatic when he opened it.
"Are you sure you can afford this?" he had asked her, genuinely concerned.
"Yes," she told him. "I know it's not enough but I wanted to repay you for saving my life."
Spot smirked. "I think I saved your life several times, actually. Next year I expect the full amount plus interest." he teased.
"Don't push your luck." She laughed, punching him in the arm. Then, seriously, she said, "You really do deserve it, you know."
"Thank you." And he gave her his most sincere smile, the one he only used for her.
Chase snapped back to reality as she saw Denton leave, walking toward his carriage. Spot turned to her.
"You're not coming with us tomorrow." he said and ascended the crates up to his throne. Chase just stood there for a second, mildly shocked.
"Why not?!" she followed him up there.
He sighed and looked out at the river view, it was close to sunset.
"Because I'm not lettin' any a' you girls go. Not the little ones neither. It's too dangerous."
"But I'm a girl, they probably wouldn't touch me." She said hopefully.
"They took a crip right off the streets, bruised and bleeding, and put him in the slam. Pulitzer and Hearst's guys ain't afraid to get their hands dirty."
Chase pouted at him, crossing her arms. She whispered under her breath. "I bet Jack Kelly lets the girls fight."
Spot punched the crate he was sitting on. The sound echoed and the boys below went quiet. A minute later Spot spoke again.
"What about Snyder? The Refuge is in Manhattan. You wanna spend the rest of your time there?"
Chase turned away from him and looked at the Brooklyn bridge, tears filling her eyes.
"Hey," Spot said, realizing what he'd done. "hey, you know I didn't mean that." He put a hand on her shoulder. "If you- if any a yous got hurt I would never be able to forgive myself."
Chase lightened up a little.
"Well, I'm not going to let you have all the fun." She said, and she straightened and went back down the crates, ignoring the boys who were whistling and teasing her and Spot. She almost clocked a boy who said, "Is it gettin' hot in here or what?"
Most newsies, although they denied it, cried themselves to sleep. And why shouldn't they? Many of them were orphans, mistreated, and penniless. Barely living off of stale bread and bitter coffee. The world was cruel to them, it's a wonder any of them had anything to smile about. But they did. "It's a fine life.", they would say.
Right now, Mush didn't think it was a "fine life". He was laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, and crying. It was silent at the lodging house. If anyone could hear him, they were quiet. He had a great day with Spark, but it wasn't enough to distract him from what he was really feeling.
When Mush went to bed that night it all hit him at once. Crutchy was gone. No one wanted to join the strike. Pulitzer didn't care whether they starved to death, he just wanted his money. And Mush's family, they were gone.
He needed help. Or comfort. Something. Someone who would listen to him. He remembered. Mush knelt on his bed and folded his arms and whispered a prayer between sobs.
"Dear God," he began,, "I- I don't know how to start. I'm just... havin' a hard time here. I know know what Pulitzer's doing isn't right. And I know it's not fair. But I feel so helpless. I know you won't give us any more than we can take but it's like David and Goliath now... It seems impossible that we'll win... Please help us... And Crutchy- please help him too. He's always been the strong one. He would give up his life for any one a' us. You know, he's really one of your finest children, if you ask me." Mush smiled as he digressed. "I feel so alone... I'm so thankful- that I have friends and a place to live. There are so many others who aren't even as fortunate as me. I know you love me. Or I wouldn't be alive today...But I still feel empty... I miss my family. Especially Roselia. I know there's no way to bring them all back but if she's, at least, still out there somewhere could- could you give me a sign or something? I need her now... So please, could you help? I don't know how any a' us can go on without you... Amen."
Mush laid back down and cried silently. He felt his Bible under his pillow. He opened it up. In the sparse, silvery moonlight, he read, something in Psalms: "For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."
A/N: When I first got the idea to write about Mush I was actually planning on writing a Newsies-Hello Dolly crossover (if you didn't know, both musicals take place in New York at around the same time, Hello Dolly begins in 1890). I was going to make it so Medda and Dolly were old Broadway friends and Mush was going to fall in love with Dolly's niece. I didn't end up writing "Hello, Newsies!" but a lot of elements from those ideas made it into "5,000 Reasons..." the main one being that Mush is religious. I'm religious, so maybe I just liked the idea of having a newsie who believed in God in my story. I can't remember if Mush's backstory was with me back in the "Hello, Newsies!" days, but I think Mush being an orphan who came from wealth really works with the whole religion thing. While the working class didn't have time (or sometimes the desire) to attend church, the rich would.
Another thing I kept from "Hello, Newsies!" was the character of Dolly's niece, Helena. She will appear in the sequel to "5,000 Reasons" which I will be uploading soon. While Helena is no longer the niece of Dolly Levi-Vandergelder, she is related to a character in "Newsies", and her personality is almost the same.
Sorry, that was a long author's note...