Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.


Chapter 25: A Chance Meeting

Davey half-expected Les to continue his ruthless denunciation as they left the theater, but to his surprise, the younger boy had nothing further to say on the subject of Davey's purported inability to balance the competing demands of leading a strike and enjoying a social life. Davey was thankful for even that small favor (Les was probably right, but there was no need to belabor the issue).

The walk back to the tenement was unusually silent, and in the sudden absence of an immediate task to accomplish or a distraction to deal with, Davey found the effects of the last several days catching up to him. He was always thinking, so the mental fatigue was minimal despite all of the things that he'd recently had to reason through, but he wasn't used to dealing with people in such high-stakes situations. Now that he could let his guard down just a bit, Davey had to admit that he was...well, tired.

It was a satisfying kind of tired, though - the kind you felt after you'd given your best and had accomplished something worthwhile. He'd found Jack. And though Davey hadn't managed to convince him to return to lead the newsies (they had Katherine to thank for that), in the end, the final objective on his list had been completed.

It was time to begin again.

Preparing for the rally's execution now came to the forefront of Davey's thoughts. There was much that still needed to be settled with confirmation of the date and location still pending, but in the meantime, he could put his mind to other things: the details and logistics that he'd learned most people weren't particularly interested in hearing about or keen on thinking through. (Oddly enough, these were also the things that got him the most excited).

So Davey set about the task of strategizing, and soon his mind was full of ideas and he had several more mental checklists lined up for completion. The walk home proved to be too short of a time to process it all, but he had a place to start now, and he found himself suddenly re-energized and ready to get back to work.

Reaching their family's apartment, Davey opened the door and was about to follow Les in, when he heard the sound of someone struggling up the stairs below, followed by a loud clatter.

"Les, I'll be right back. Check on Dad for me, okay?"

Receiving confirmation from his brother, Davey shut the door, then hurried over to the stairs. A man was crouched halfway up the flight, several large pieces of wood tucked under his arm as he reached down to grasp for the boards that had fallen haphazardly at his feet.

"Can I help you?" Davey asked, making his way down the steps. "That looks like a lot for one person to handle."

The man looked up in surprise, then gave him a cheerful smile. "Well, if you're going to be kind enough to offer, son, I'll happily share the load." He motioned to the boards on the ground. "If you could get those for me, I think I can manage the rest."

Davey nodded, collecting the fallen planks and then following the man as he made his way up the stairs. They continued climbing until they'd reached the rooftop of the tenement where the man walked over to a corner of the roof and set his burden down, motioning for Davey to do the same. Once the pile of wood pieces had been more or less neatly arranged, the man stood back, wiping his brow.

"I'm obliged to you," he said, smiling gratefully at Davey. "That would've taken me two trips at least if you hadn't shown up when you did."

"It wasn't a problem," Davey replied easily. "Glad to help." He was about to give the man a polite nod before turning away, when a thought suddenly crossed his mind.

"Is this wood going to be…discarded?" he asked, unsure of how to phrase his question. It didn't seem like the kind of material that would be used for a carpentry project; many of the boards were clearly worn, and several were oddly sized, as though they were the scraps left over from something else.

The man shook his head. "No, at least not right away. I'm going to leave it up here for a week to see if any of the tenants want it - first come, first served." He gave Davey a curious look. "If you've got a project in mind, you're more than welcome to take it all. I'd be happy to know that it was being put to good use."

He smiled warmly again, and Davey was suddenly struck by the uncanny feeling that they'd been acquainted before, though he was absolutely certain that they hadn't. But before he could puzzle himself further on the matter, the mystery was clarified for him.

"Philip Becker, by the way," the man said, extending his hand. "I'm the landlord here."

That was why he looked so familiar - Davey had seen a similar smile on the face of the man's second-youngest daughter.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Becker," he said, shaking the proffered hand. "I'm David Jacobs. My family lives on the second floor."

"David!" the man exclaimed. "So you're the one Sadie's told me about!"

Davey didn't know exactly what to say to that. "Yes, I guess that's me," he said, attempting a smile. "I'm indebted to her for her generosity in helping me keep up with my studies. I don't know how I'd manage if it wasn't for her."

"Well, Sadie's a good-hearted girl even if she can be a little impulsive at times," Philip answered fondly. "I'm glad that she's followed through on her offer of helping you out, and that your own study habits haven't suffered under her tutelage. My daughter means well, but by her own admission, academics aren't her strong point."

"She's actually really bright!" Davey blurted out before he thought the better of it. "At least...she is...from what I've seen. Not - " he amended quickly, " - that I'm trying to contradict you, sir. You've - well, you've obviously known Sadie a lot longer than I have."

He cringed inwardly, wondering what unfortunate instinct had provoked him to say something so superfluous and in such a ridiculous manner, but there was nothing that he could do about it now.

To his surprise, Philip Becker seemed rather delighted by the clumsily-delivered compliment. "Well, that makes a father very proud to hear," he said. "I've always believed that Sadie was smarter than she gave herself credit for, and her mother and I have hoped that she would apply herself a bit more to her studies, which it seems that she's managed to do, thanks to you. But what pleases me most is knowing that she's stuck to her promise and hasn't shirked her responsibility or done a half-hearted job. That determination to master something difficult isn't easy, but Sadie's a stubborn girl, and she's capable of more than she thinks when she puts her mind to it."

"She certainly is," Davey agreed. "Capable, I mean - not stubborn. Though I suppose she is that, too...in a...tenacious kind of way."

He really ought to implement some kind of self-regulating mechanism so that he didn't keep embarrassing himself like this, but Philip Becker shared his daughter's approachability, and that inviting nature always seemed to draw out the worst of Davey's verbal stumbling.

"Well, I'm happy to have gotten a chance to meet my daughter's classmate and friend," the landlord said jovially, breaking into Davey's self-deprecating thoughts. "Thank you again, David, for your help, and please - " he motioned to the pile of wood, "- take whatever you need. If you'd like to borrow some tools for your project, I've got a supply closet in my office - stop by any time, or ask Sadie to show you where things are."

"Thank you," Davey responded gratefully. He did have a purpose in mind for the wood, and the prospect of additionally having access to tools was even more exciting, but another idea had just come into his mind, and he was debating with himself now over whether to give voice to it while the landlord was conveniently present or to more sensibly wait to broach the subject until he'd had more time to think the matter over.

Surprisingly, impulsiveness won out.

"Mr. Becker," Davey said quickly, just as the man was about to turn away to start back towards the stairs. "I don't suppose that you have any odd jobs around the tenement you might need help with?"

The landlord looked surprised, but thankfully not offended, and after a moment of consideration, he nodded thoughtfully. "I think I might actually have some projects lined up that could benefit from an extra set of hands," he said. "Are you looking for work?"

"Yes," Davey answered, hoping that he didn't sound too desperate. He didn't want to elaborate on his family's situation (he wasn't sure how much of it Mr. Becker knew already, anyway), but if he could manage to do some work around the tenement, it would help to offset the Jacobses' quickly dwindling reserve fund. And of course, there was the additional appeal of not having to go far for work and the flexibility of being able to balance projects at the tenement with responsibilities at the lodging house.

"I don't have much experience with these kinds of things," he admitted, wanting to be completely honest about his ability to do the job, "but I'd try to learn quickly and do careful work."

"Well, I think we may be able to arrange something, David," Philip Becker said kindly. "There are always jobs needing to be done around a tenement of this size. Let me speak to my other employee to make sure it's not a problem if I reassign some tasks to you, and once that's done, I'll stop by your family's apartment to discuss things further. Does that sound agreeable to you?"

"Yes!" Davey exclaimed, unable to stop the elation from bleeding into his voice. "Thank you, Mr. Becker!" Thank you, God! Finally, here was a solution to the problem that had been hounding him ever since the strike began. With an additional source of income, the financial strain on his family would be significantly lessened, which meant that his mother wouldn't have to take on additional hours at the factory, his father might be able to see a doctor to get his leg properly looked at, they could maybe start eating three meals again, and -

Davey almost could have cried from relief.

The landlord must have sensed his exhilaration, because he patted him kindly on the back, promising again that he would be in touch soon to make the necessary arrangements before cordially taking his leave.

As soon as the sound of Philip Becker's footsteps had faded away down the stairs, Davey leapt into the air, throwing both of his hands up as high as he could and then bringing them down in a silent cheer. He never did this - it wasn't like him. But he couldn't help it. He was deliriously happy. Less than two weeks ago, he'd been sitting on this very same rooftop, nearly crushed by the impending responsibility of having to become a newsboy to feed his family. A few days after that, he'd returned to the same spot to ponder the strike that had left his conscience satisfied but his family lacking. Now he found himself celebrating the unexpected but welcome news that the problem of his missing income would soon be laid to rest - and that he could still continue to press forward with helping to lead the strike.

It was simply too much to keep in.

Adjusting his cap on his head, Davey decided that he would return to the apartment to share the good news with his family. They would be wondering where he'd gotten to, anyway, and though there was much to do, he could allow himself some time to revel in the moment. It was the newsie way, after all: to celebrate the victories, no matter how big or small, because every win was worth something.

Davey grinned to himself, pleased at having applied this bit of recently-discovered wisdom. Maybe in time he'd be able to pass for a respectable newsie after all. In any case, he felt like nothing could hamper his enthusiasm or diminish his excitement in the moment.

Things had finally fallen into place, and he was on top of the world.


Some time later, Davey returned to the rooftop, considerably more in control of his emotions but no less elated for having shared the good news with his family.

His father hadn't said much, but Davey had seen the relief in his eyes upon hearing the announcement, and he knew that Mayer was pleased, even though he'd remained characteristically reserved about saying so. Esther, who had just returned from her job at the factory, had been far more expressive in her happiness, praising her son for his resourcefulness and enfolding him in a hug that he had bashfully returned. Les - predictably - had wanted to know if they could celebrate with ice cream or a treat of some kind, a query that had earned him an indulgent smile from his mother and a promise that she would head to the confectionery to see if there was anything she could find that would be suitable. Mayer had objected slightly to this, citing the cost, but Esther had maintained that it was a special occasion, and that she wouldn't be too extravagant.

Despite this small disagreement, the tiny apartment was filled with more merriment than it had ever seen in the short time that the Jacobs family had been in Manhattan, and Philip Becker's arrival in the middle of the excitement had only served to heighten everyone's good humor. The landlord was heartily welcomed in and thanked for his kindness (which he waved off in a friendly manner), and he'd cordially spent the better part of an hour chatting with Mayer and Esther before informing Davey that he'd cleared things with his other employee and that he had a list of jobs lined up for completion whenever Davey was ready to start tackling them. Having delivered this news, the landlord had taken his leave shortly thereafter, apologizing for his abrupt departure but explaining that he needed to meet with a potential tenant who would be arriving within the hour.

As soon as the door had closed behind him, Esther had prepared to leave as well, reiterating to Mayer that she would be as thrifty as possible while simultaneously promising Les to bring home something "extra special" that would satisfy his craving. Davey had watched the proceedings with mild amusement; his mother was a resourceful woman, and he didn't doubt her ability to keep her promise to both her husband and her younger son, but still, he was curious to see what she would come back with. They didn't often get to enjoy sweets of any kind, so he was sure that whatever his mother picked from the confectionery would be eagerly devoured.

Once his mother had left, Davey, too, exited the apartment, heading back to the rooftop. There were still a few hours of daylight remaining, and he was eager to claim some of the scrap wood on the rooftop and begin his next project, though he knew that he probably wouldn't get very far with it that day.

He sorted through the pile, examining the pieces closely and setting aside the ones that he thought would suit his purpose, then arranging them in a neat stack away from the rest of the lumber. He was just mulling over how he should go about labeling his portion when he heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs behind him.

"Rather bold of you, Davey, to think that you can just waltz up here, get acquainted with my father, then summarily take all of my jobs around the tenement," came Sadie's familiar teasing voice.

Davey turned in surprise to see the landlord's daughter walking towards him with an impish grin. "I've half a mind to threaten you with what I think you newsboys call 'a soaking,' or at least with the prospect of not just trying my baking but eating it for a week!" she said with mock severity.

"Wait…" Davey gave her a confused look as his mind frantically tried to make sense of what she was implying. "You mean...you're your father's other employee?"

"Surprised?" Sadie asked with a laugh. "I thought you already knew that I had a hand in the family business!"

"I mean, I knew that you helped your father out with things," Davey faltered, "but I didn't know that he depended on you so much."

"Well, when you have four daughters and only one of them is even remotely inclined to tackle odd jobs, you make do, I suppose," Sadie gave a little shrug. "I'm sure that he could do much better if he were to actually hire a property manager to assist him, but he does so much of the work himself that he gets by with just a little help from me. I like to keep busy, anyway, and he's generous enough to pay me for my work, so it's a mutually beneficial arrangement. However…" she cocked her head, giving him a teasing smile, "now that you've relieved me of the majority of my usual tasks, my job security is precarious at best." She sighed. "You've left me in quite the predicament, Davey. I really ought to soak you."

Davey tried not to look too amused by the threat; he found it slightly entertaining coming from a girl who couldn't be an inch over five feet tall, but of course it wouldn't do to tell her that.

"Maybe it's just as well," he said instead. "I'm sure that your father will appreciate having an employee who actually observes proper safety protocols - especially where painting doors is concerned."

What on earth had possessed him to tease her like that? It had to be runoff from his earlier excitement; he doubted very much that he would have been bold enough to taunt her, however mildly, if he had not been under the influence of some extreme form of exuberance.

Sadie looked both delighted and shocked at the unexpected jab.

"Davey Jacobs!" she exclaimed, a smile spreading across her face. "I didn't think you had a ruthless bone in your body, but it appears that I've underestimated you." She gave him an appreciative nod. "I'll have to be much more careful around you from now on, lest you surprise me again!"

"You're not...you're not offended, are you?" Davey asked, his tendency to second-guess himself quickly getting the better of him. "I didn't really mean it."

"Offended?" Sadie echoed. "Of course not! It pleases me to be considered a worthy enough opponent to banter with, and it's said that a good-natured insult is a sign of true friendship, so you needn't concern yourself on my account."

Davey smiled, relieved that she'd taken his uncharacteristic teasing in stride and thinking to himself that she was right - at least, the newsies he'd been keeping company with lately seemed to prove her point.

"But you really don't mind me taking your jobs?" he asked, wanting to be completely clear on the matter. "If you'd prefer that I didn't, I can talk to your father."

Sadie laughed. "No, I don't mind at all," she assured him. "I can always bring alterations home from the tailor's if I want to do more work, and my mother will actually be relieved to hear that I've given up my role as Papa's junior handyman. Besides," she added jokingly, "trying to keep up in class so that I can tutor you has certainly kept me busy enough!"

Davey found himself feeling unexpectedly guilty over the facetious statement. "I'm indebted to you, Sadie," he said soberly. "Several times over…"

Her teasing expression softened. "Not at all," she said in the same gentle tone that he'd heard only once before when she'd expressed concern for his safety at the outset of the strike. "It's true that I don't enjoy schoolwork, but I do enjoy helping people, so you really aren't putting me out. If anything, the extra study has helped my performance in school tremendously, which has pleased both my parents and our schoolmaster, so I have you to thank for that."

"However," she continued in a lighthearted tone, "if you must continually insist upon placing yourself in my debt, Davey, I'm sure I can find a way for you to make it up to me. I already owe you some baking to try, and no doubt there are other far more ridiculous things I can contrive to put you through, if only I take the time to think on it."

She smiled at him, and Davey, despite his nagging feeling of guilt, found himself succumbing to her reassurance. It still surprised him that she would be willing to go out of her way so much, especially when he'd done nothing to merit that kindness and had done nothing for her in return, but if she was going to be benevolent enough to offer him a favor, he could at least be humble enough to receive it.

"Well...thank you," he said simply. "This opportunity means a lot, not just to me, but to my family, too. We're all grateful to you and to your father. And, " he added impetuously, "whenever you decide on whatever ridiculous things you'd like to put me through, well…you know where to find me."

He surprised her again - what in the world was going on with him today? - but then he saw a mischievous look cross her face, and he knew that she was pleased with his audacious statement.

"Just wait, Davey," she declared cheerfully. "I'll make an adventurous and impulsive boy out of you yet."

"That may prove to be harder than you think," he smiled. "But you're welcome to try."

Sadie tilted her chin up just a fraction of an inch. "Oh, I intend to," she answered. "Consider the challenge accepted."

He hadn't expected her to take him so sincerely, but clearly she wasn't the kind to back down from a challenge, and for a fleeting moment, Davey wondered what kinds of unexpected things could be in store for him if she really did put her mind to the task of trying to draw him out of his cautious nature.

"Well, now that shots have been fired," Sadie said, suddenly sounding more business-like, "I suppose that we must declare an official truce for the time-being. My father has asked me to show you the supply closet in his office so that you can be familiar with everything when you start working. I stopped by your family's apartment to look for you, and Les told me that you'd come up here. Would you be able to step away for a moment, or should I return at another time?"

"Now is fine, thanks," Davey answered, deciding that he would come back later to label his wood pile and then would call it a day. He could get to work on the project that he had in mind later - there was still plenty of time.

Satisfied, he turned to follow Sadie as she led the way towards the stairs, a feeling of contentment settling upon him as he did so.

All in all, it had been a very gratifying day.