Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.
Chapter 16: An Unlikely Partnership
"Finch!" Race snapped. "Get over here and let me take a look at that cut of yours."
"Ain't nothin' but a scratch," Finch muttered, reluctantly making his way over and scowling as he submitted to the examination.
"It's gonna be a lot worse than just a scratch if you don't clean it properly," Race replied. The cut wasn't large or alarmingly deep, but it was definitely dirty. He gestured to the washroom at the back of the lodging house. "Go wash it out, Finchy, and let the water run over it a while, then come back so I can give you a bandage."
Grumbling a bit, Finch did as he was told, and Race called Elmer over.
"Hey, Elm! You's next."
The younger newsie looked a bit disoriented, but he got up from the bunk bed where he had been sitting and made his way unsteadily over to the table where Race had set up a makeshift medic station.
"Woah - woah!" Race jumped to his feet as Elmer wavered a bit before shakily sliding down into one of the chairs beside the table. "Take it easy, Elm. What's wrong?"
"Just feelin' a little dizzy," the other newsie mumbled. "Took a blow to the head back at the distribution center. Sniper an' Jojo had to help me back here."
"Show me where," Race commanded.
Elmer pointed to a spot on the side of his head, and Race carefully inspected the area. There was no visible wound, but that didn't mean that the injury wasn't serious. Race ground his teeth silently in frustration, wishing for Crutchie. The two of them were usually the designated medics in charge of patching up the newsies whenever a scuffle took place, but it was rare for so many of the boys to be injured at once.
And, of course, Crutchie wasn't here.
Race pushed the thought aside. He was worried about Crutchie and Jack both, but he wasn't going to stop and think about their predicaments right now. The leadership of the newsies had fallen to him, and with no one else there to assist in evaluating the other boys' physical needs, Race had to focus his attention on what was important in the moment. Making sure that everyone was patched up properly was his top priority.
Feeling a hand fall suddenly upon his shoulder, Race turned around and was about to chastise the interloper, when he saw to his surprise that it was Davey standing behind him.
"Sorry it took me so long to get back," he apologized. "I had to take Les home." His eyes glanced around the room, taking in the disorder of the injured newsies clustered together in little groups. "What can I do?"
Race was relieved to see him, but he didn't let on.
"How'd you find the lodging house?" he asked instead. As far as he knew, Davey had never been there.
"I asked around." Davey came over to stand next to Race, examining Elmer with a concerned look.
"Concussion?" he asked quietly.
Race gave a terse nod. "Maybe." He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Finch was making his way back from the washroom, then gave Davey a nudge. "Can you see to Elmer here while I bandage up Finchy?"
Davey nodded, kneeling down so that he was at eye level with the younger newsie.
"Hey, uh, Elmer," he began. "I don't think we've officially met before, but I'm Davey. Is it all right if I ask you some questions? I want to figure out what to do for that injury of yours."
Race listened as he carefully bandaged Finch's cut, curious to see how Elmer would respond. The younger newsie was easy-going and good-natured, but he could be wary of strangers and sometimes was shy about answering questions, so even though Davey's approach made sense, Race wasn't sure if it would fly.
To his surprise, Elmer agreed to the request.
"Sure," he answered easily.
Davey nodded. "Are you feeling dizzy at all?" he queried.
"Yeah, a little," Elmer admitted. "Almost didn't make it over to Racer here."
Davey looked concerned, but his voice remained calm. "Okay. Any blacking out or fainting earlier?"
"Nah," Elmer started to shake his head, then stopped abruptly, wincing.
"And you haven't vomited either?" Davey questioned.
"I haven't what?" Elmer asked, confused.
"Er...thrown up?" Davey amended.
"Oh," Elmer laughed a little in comprehension. "Nah, no throwin' up."
Davey nodded encouragingly. "All right, good."
Race's attention was drawn away as he finished bandaging Finch's cut and began scanning the rest of the lodging house to see if he'd missed anyone else. Nearly all of the boys had injuries of some kind, most of which would show up as ugly bruises the next day. A few, like Finch, sported superficial cuts. Most concerning were the head injuries, though so far only Henry and Elmer seemed to have been affected. Race was thankful that he'd gotten out of the brawl with nothing worse than a black eye.
Satisfied that he'd examined everyone, Race turned his attention back to Davey, who seemed to be wrapping up his questioning.
"Well, you sure are a tough one, Elmer!" he said. "Snyder and the bulls are going to have to try a lot harder if they want to have any chance of putting you out of the game."
Elmer grinned at the older boy's praise.
"It would probably be best for you to rest now," Davey continued, "but if you start swelling up, or if you feel pressure in your head or anything else unusual, tell Race right away, okay?" Elmer gave his assent, and Davey patted him gently on the back, then helped the younger newsie to his feet and over to his bunk, getting him settled in before coming back to Race.
"He seems all right for now," he said quietly. "He's speaking and thinking clearly, his memory's intact, and he doesn't seem to have any severe symptoms yet. But we should keep an eye on him for the next few days. Sometimes it takes a while to know for sure."
Race nodded in understanding. He already planned on sleeping lightly that night, waking up periodically to make sure the other boys were all right - Elmer wasn't the only one whose injury was slightly worrisome.
"Is there anyone else?" Davey asked, his eyes sweeping the room. Most of the newsies were lounging on their bunks, talking amongst themselves.
Race shook his head. "Nah, we's good for now." He glanced at Davey curiously. "Wouldn't have pegged you as the kind who'd know anything about head injuries."
Davey shrugged. "Les actually got a bad concussion once when he was younger, so I guess that memory is kind of stuck in my mind. And I've read a few first-aid books. I figured the information might come in handy one day. I'm just glad that I was able to remember what I'd read." He stuck his hands in his pockets, surveying the room once again and looking slightly troubled.
"Do you think they'll be all right?" he asked, lowering his voice so that only Race could hear. "With Jack missing and Crutchie in The Refuge?"
Race made a noncommittal sound. "Ain't the first time one of us has gone missing," he said shortly. From what he could tell, the newsies were subdued but not despondent. "The hard part is gonna be keepin' these bummers off of the streets so that they can rest up enough to be fresh for tomorrow," he added, leaving the details of exactly what they would be doing tomorrow unspecified and unspoken.
"So...maybe something to distract them, then?" Davey suggested. "To take their mind off of things?"
Race nodded. The newsies could use something to lift their flagging spirits, and Race knew that if he didn't provide some kind of diversion, he'd soon have a lodging house full of antsy, ill-tempered boys on his hands. It wasn't like him to motivate with inspirational speeches, but Davey's suggestion of finding something amusing to pass the time and take the newsies' minds off of their problems was right up Race's alley.
A thought suddenly formed in Race's mind, and he grinned. Davey himself might prove to be the perfect distraction, even if he didn't know it yet, and Race was curious to test him just a bit. The older Jacobs brother seemed to be the overly-reserved type, and there was no better time to slowly start breaking him of that unfortunate characteristic than the present.
Race got to his feet. "You's a genius, Dave," he said jovially, slapping the other boy on the back. "And you's gonna be the solution to our problem, too."
A confused look crossed Davey's face, but before he could say anything, Race cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Hey!"
The lodging house fell silent, all eyes turning to look at the two boys standing at the back of the room.
"I just realized we got a newsie here who ain't been initiated yet!" Race continued loudly, resting his hand on Davey's shoulder. Several of the newsies whooped and hollered, and Race grinned slyly at Davey. "Whaddaya say, Dave? You ready to become an official member of the Manhattan Newsies' lodging house?"
Davey looked a bit uneasy, but he nodded. "I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be," he answered. "And...if you're offering, I'm not going to say no."
"Alright fellas!" Race announced cheerfully. "We got a taker. Let's get to it." His eyes searched the room until he found the newsie he was looking for. "Sniper!" he called, jerking his thumb over his shoulder, "You go out back and fetch the skunk, and be quick! Mush," he pointed, "you bring the shavin' cream!"
"The what?!" Davey exclaimed, suddenly looking a little faint.
Race snort-laughed into his hand as the other newsies chortled. "We's just messin' with you Davey," Race said reassuringly. "You don't haf'ta worry. Jack put a stop to all them crazy initiation rites when he became leader. It's real simple now - all you gotta do is answer a few of our questions."
The relief on Davey's face was almost comical. "Okay…" he agreed, nervously adjusting his necktie. "Yeah...that…" He cleared his throat. "That doesn't sound too bad."
Race hid a grin at the other newsie's unconvincing attempts to hide his agitation. Task Davey with rallying a group of despondent newsies and he could rise to the occasion without flinching, but subject him to even the slightest good-natured ribbing and he was already halfway to becoming a flustered wreck. It was a good thing he was being initiated under Jack's rules. And even better that Race and the boys were going to force him to mellow out a little.
"All right!" Race declared, bringing Davey over to where the newsies had formed a loose circle. "Now remember fellas, no questions about family, no questions about the past, and what a fella shares during initiation stays in the lodging house." Race glanced around the group. "Got it?" The newsies chorused their agreement, and he nodded in satisfaction. "Oh, and one more thing - make sure an' introduce yourself if you ain't met Davey yet so he can learn all of your names."
He looked at Davey. "I would make you promise to answer all of our questions honestly, Dave, but seein' as how Jack told me that you can't even listen to him talk about improvin' a headline without squirmin' a little, I don't think we got anything to worry about." He patted Davey on the shoulder. "Don't look so scared, alright? We ain't gonna bite."
The practice of "initiating" a new newsie with a brief question time was really meant to help the rest of the boys get to know their new bunkmate better, and to that end, most of the questions the newsies asked were practical in nature. Since Davey wouldn't be staying at the lodging house, the procedure wasn't really necessary, but Race figured that it couldn't hurt for all of them to get to know the newest member of their company a little more.
Nodding to the group, Race indicated that the floor was now open for questions.
Mush, ever the one to inquire about others' sleeping habits, was quick off the blocks. "Early or late riser?" he asked. "Oh, and my name's Mush."
Davey looked a little relieved that the first question hadn't been too difficult. "I'm a late riser usually," he answered. "Les is normally the one who has to pull me out of bed, although these last few days I've been getting up a bit earlier."
The newsies nodded and Mush looked satisfied, so Race motioned for them to continue.
"Any hidden talents or skills?" asked Specs after introducing himself.
Davey thought for a moment. "Well, I'm not really sure if it's a talent or not, but when I read a book, or a newspaper, or anything in print, I can remember most of what I've read, even after only seeing it once. Oh…" he added, "and I used to be pretty good at marbles when I was younger."
"You oughta challenge Racer!" Jojo suggested. "He's a whiz at marbles!"
"Really?" Davey turned to Race, looking intrigued.
Race waved it off with a cocky grin. "Don't play much anymore and I ain't got a collection on hand right now, but someday if I can get a hold of some, I'd be happy to wipe the floor with you any time, Dave."
"Okay," Davey nodded, surprising Race with a grin of his own. "You're on."
The newsies began murmuring excitedly amongst themselves, no doubt starting to wager on who would win, and Race was pleased to see that his plan was working.
"All right, all right," he broke in. "Enough of that. Who's next, huh?"
"Do you like - and do you play - practical jokes?" Elmer called from his bunk bed.
Davey grimaced. "Um...no, not really - to either of those," he answered. More excited murmuring was heard all around, and Race shook his head in amusement.
"Shouldn't have said that," he said, smiling at Davey's naivete. "Now all these bummers is gonna have it out for you, especially since they know you ain't gonna retaliate." How'd this kid ever survive living in New York? he wondered. Book smarts coming out of his ears, but nothing in the way of street smarts.
"All right, come on fellas," he urged. "Keep it movin' - next question!"
Romeo piped up. "You got a sweetheart, Davey?"
Several groans were heard, and Albert went so far as to cuff Romeo on the head. "Geez, Romeo," he groused. "Why're you always wastin' a question by askin' about that? Every time!"
"Hey, I didn't hear you comin' up with anything better!" Romeo shot back. "Besides, it ain't wastin' a question. I want to know."
The attention turned back to Davey, who shrugged a little. "Sorry to disappoint you," he said, "but no, I don't."
"Well, you got anyone you's sweet on, then?" Romeo asked, not to be deterred from his line of questioning.
Albert smacked the younger boy on the arm. "Ah, give it a rest, Romeo!" he grumbled. "Let someone else ask somethin' interestin' instead!"
"All right, all right, last question," Race broke in, shooting Albert and Romeo a look. He could sense that Davey was already taxed from even the brief interrogation, and Race figured that he'd pushed him far enough for one day, so he decided to cut things short. They'd have plenty of time to quiz Davey later.
"What'd ya think of Jack when you first met him?" Finch asked curiously.
Davey looked a little embarrassed. "I thought he was trying to steal my papes," he admitted. "And that he was an overly confident braggart. None of which was true, of course," he added quickly as the newsies guffawed.
"Well if that ain't a fittin' description of Jack, I don't know what is!" Henry exclaimed.
"Nah, it ain't fittin,'" Race argued, "it's better than Jacky deserves!" He chortled, shaking his head. "Wait 'till we tell him that Davey had him pegged from the get-go."
The mood in the lodging house had noticeably improved, and Race was pleased. It almost felt like things were normal, like Crutchie wasn't missing and Jack could walk into the room at any moment, blustering and larger-than-life, grousing good-naturedly at them for having a laugh at his expense.
At least the newsies had smiles on their faces once again.
Maybe Race wasn't so bad at this leadership thing after all.
"All right you bummers," he said aloud. "You've had your fun. Now lay low for a while and don't cause any trouble, alright? We gotta rest up so we can seize the day tomorrow."
Chatting and laughing, the newsies drifted back to whatever they'd been doing, and Race gave Davey a shove. "See?" he said. "Nothin' to be afraid of, right?"
"Yeah," Davey agreed with a small grin. "I guess it wasn't." He glanced at Race. "Thanks for taking pity on me. I know that could have gone on a lot longer if you'd let it."
Race waved it off. "Might not be thankin' me when one of the boys decides to prank you."
"Well, at least now I'll know to be ready for it," Davey answered, though Race was pretty sure he had no idea how that knowledge was actually going to help him in the long run.
"Hey," he said briskly, turning to the other boy, "I gotta see to our visitors -" he jerked his thumb in the direction of two of the ex-scabs who were sitting quietly by themselves off in one corner of the room (Race wasn't sure where the third one had gone off to). "But thanks for comin' back to help."
"Are you sure there's nothing else I can do?" Davey asked. "I mean, it seems like you've got it under control, but if there's anything you can think of…"
Race shook his head. "Nah - we's gonna be fine." He spat in his hand, more out of habit than anything else, then held it out to Davey. "See you tomorrow, Dave?"
Davey gave him a knowing look but gamely spat in his own hand before shaking with Race. "Tomorrow it is," he agreed. Then with a nod of farewell, he turned and left, stopping for a moment at Elmer's bunk to say a few quick words before disappearing down the stairs.
It was late in the evening by the time Race had gotten all of the boys settled in their beds. Thankfully, Henry's and Elmer's head injuries hadn't progressed into anything more serious for the time being, and both of them were sleeping peacefully, Henry curled up like a shrimp, and Elmer sprawled out with one arm hanging completely off of the bed.
Race had settled the two ex-scabs into the only bunks available - the ones normally occupied by Jack and Crutchie in the months when it got too cold to sleep on the rooftop. He'd caught uneasy looks from the rest of the newsies as he'd ushered the visitors to their places, but he ignored them. Race was too practically-minded to have the new boys sleep on the floor for some outlandish sense of sentimentality, especially not when there were two perfectly good beds available.
That didn't mean he wasn't thinking about Jack or Crutchie.
Race threw himself down on his own mattress, wishing that he could sneak outside and have a smoke but knowing that he needed to be available in case any of the boys started feeling worse. He hoped that it would be a quiet night, but he knew that he wouldn't be sleeping much, regardless.
Rubbing his temples, he grimaced, feeling the faintest bit of a headache coming on. Everything had happened so quickly, and he'd been so focused on caring for the newsies' physical needs and making sure that the lodging house didn't degenerate into chaos that he hadn't had much time for anything else. He wasn't the kind to brood - at least, not usually - but he did find himself needing to sort through his thoughts now that things had settled down.
Nothing had gone the way they'd expected. Jack had pulled Race and Crutchie aside that morning at the lodging house, and they'd quickly reviewed the basic contingency plan that they'd put in place a few months ago, just as a precaution. It was mostly a list of which duties would fall to whom should Jack go missing, but, of course, all that was irrelevant now with Race being the only one left standing.
Jack had also specified that, should something happen to him, Race and Crutchie were to defer to Davey in any matters specifically involving the strike. This directive had surprised Race somewhat - Jack, while generally friendly and welcoming to newcomers, wasn't one to release authority easily, especially not a newsie he'd only known for a few days.
But, of course, Davey wasn't your typical newsie.
Race shifted into a slightly more comfortable position, bunching up his pillow behind his head. Although he would never admit it, he was relieved that Davey had shown up at the lodging house. Race had assumed that, after the brawl, the Jacobs brothers would head straight for the security of their home, but Davey hadn't forgotten the newsies, and Race was grateful for that.
He hadn't been close enough to see what had happened when Crutchie had been arrested, but the other newsies had filled him in, and Race's ire burned hot against Synder and the Delanceys. Even now, the thought of his fellow newsie being beaten with his own crutch made Race grind his teeth in anger.
Rolling over on his side, he stared at the wall of the lodging house, telling himself to calm down. He needed to keep a cool head as long as he was in charge of the newsies. Once Jack was back to resume his rightful responsibilities, Race could return to his preferred role as second-in-command and resident snarker and sometime-hot-head of the bunch. But for now, he had to stay calm and collected and positive to keep the newsies spirits' from flagging. It didn't come naturally to Race, but in Jack's absence, he had no choice.
Jack, you punk, he thought wryly, unless you's in The Refuge with Crutchie or bleedin' out somewhere, you'd better get your sorry bum back here real quick, or I ain't gonna hold back from soakin' you myself.
A/N: I just realized that this story has now exceeded 50k words - I definitely did not think that it would end up being this long, but the plot bunnies are relentless - oof. ;) If you're still following along and enjoying this story, would you be so kind as to leave a review to let me know you're still here? It only takes a minute, and it really does give me the motivation to keep going! :) Thank you!
Also, heartfelt thanks to those who have regularly kept up with reading/reviewing this - I can honestly say that your encouragement is what has motivated me to keep posting despite the busyness of life and the occasional intimidation I feel as a relatively new fanfiction writer getting over the fear of sharing the stories in my head with an audience. ;) Thanks a bunch!
FINALLY, if you like Easter Eggs (or as Miss Eliza Sparrow cleverly terms them, "Erster Eggs") there's one hidden in this chapter that's a really specific call back to "Dyin' To Get There." If you can find it, you deserve a shout out and a virtual pair of new shoes with matchin' laces. :) Let me know if you spot it!
