The next day, Jack informed us that we would attack the distribution office again. There was no questioning- it was matter of fact. I felt uneasy, but that was second nature to me, now. There would be no getting out of this. The younger boys were ordered to stay home, and I was expected to have my loyalty tested before Jack. My hands sweated the whole way, so I kept shoving them into my pockets.
Bumlets knew I was nervous, so he clapped a steady arm around my shoulders. My silly little crush grew on him everyday. It was stupid, but it was one of the only things I had left. My stomach jumped as we got closer.
We joined arms, and just as the gates opened, it was chaos. There was the crowd, running, men with clubs, fighting, arms throwing, blood, and I felt pain. I began to mindlessly fight what was definitely a forty year old douchebag. And then- Brooklyn. I saw Spot's head arise from a building roof and then all of the sudden, there were Brooklynites everywhere! The fighting continued, but not before long, the middle aged bullies retreated to lick their wounds. We celebrated, screamed, and jumped around in victory!
A reporter came up to Jack and then I saw them laughing and taking a picture. I stayed back, feeling even more like a stranger in this time. I felt uneasy suddenly and I felt my left eye swelling up with a black eye. My lip was split open and blood was drying on my face. And then, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
It was Umberto.
"Hey kid, do Ise know ya?" His Italian accent was completely gone, and in place was a rough New York accent. My heart was beating a thousand times a minute. I had to play the part.
"Don't think youse had the pleasure," I remarked, ripping my shoulder away from his grip.
"So youse a scab or somethin', kid?" He pushed me. I was shocked. Was this really the Umberto I almost went on a date with? Glad I dodged that one.
"Nah, but youse gonna get soaked like a scab if you push me again," I threatened in my deep man voice. A small crowd was beginning to gather.
"Oh really, kid?" He stepped closer to me. "Ain't anybody tell ya to not mess with the Reaper?"
Okay, seriously? The Reaper? Could this kid get anymore nutso?
"The only thing youse got in common with the Grim Reaper is that you smell like death." I smirked back, dodging his heavy sausage arm as he tried to punch me. Luckily for me, Spot chose that moment to come talk to me.
"Am I interrupting something, Reaps?" Spot said, sauntering up. Umberto straightened.
"You know dis scab?" He spat at Spot.
"Now, now, Reaps," Spot began. "I would watch who ya call a scab. Prize here happens to be one of my favorites of Cowboy's boys. Prize got his name fighting me. I would chose ya battles wisely, kid."
Umberto said nothing, and turned around to leave Manhattan. As soon as he was out of ear shot, I turned to Spot.
"I'd watch out for him. This isn't over." Spot's words echoed in the hot afternoon. I nodded, and suddenly didn't feel hungry as the crowd flooded into Tibby's for lunch. I walked slowly back to the Lodging House.
Could my life get any more twisted? Not only was I in a different time and place than the one I was born in, but I was impersonating a boy, crushing on someone who thought I was a boy, dodging a crazy guy who wanted to date me, and doing all this in combination with trying not to starve to death.
I came back into the house, and Owl was immediately attached to me. I murmured my greetings to him, and went to go lay down upstairs with him. I was asleep before I had the chance to clean my face or eat anything. I was asleep, wishing deep inside that I was somewhere new and better with Bumlets, and I was able to bathe regularly and let my hair down. I dreamt of nothing.