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


Chapter 36: Caesura

Thunderous applause filled Irving Hall as the newsies clapped and cheered, thoroughly enjoying the entertainment provided by Miss Medda and her talented ensemble. Off to the side of the auditorium, Davey clapped politely along with the rest of the crowd, but internally, he was unable to focus on the performance.

The rally had gone off without a hitch so far. Miss Medda's warm welcome had immediately set the newsies at ease, and Race's spirited introductory remarks had only served to heighten everyone's good mood. He'd opened the night by inviting each of the newsie contingents to sound off in turn with a cheer, and Davey had found himself smiling as he'd heard the orderly shout of the Brooklyn boys, the no-less enthusiastic huzzahs of Calico and the Bronx, and the roar of his own Manhattan cronies amongst the other voices.

A few rousing choruses of "High Times, Hard Times" had followed, further elevating the crowd's excitement, and by the end of the opening number, Davey was fairly certain that he was the only one present who hadn't lost himself in the revelry.

He really ought to try to loosen up a little - aside from Jack's whereabouts being still unknown, things were proceeding exactly as they should: the newsies stationed outside of the theater hadn't reported anything unusual, the few stragglers who had come in late had found their seats easily enough thanks to the clear signage, and the program was unfolding right on schedule, almost exactly to the minute. Everything was going well. He could afford to sit back and relax for a moment, right?

(Who was he kidding? There was no way that was going to happen).

Glancing at the clock at the back of the auditorium, Davey checked his notepad where he'd written down the order of events for the night. There were still several numbers left to go in Miss Medda's program, but it would be time to take Abby home soon, so he'd need to leave things in the capable hands of others while he attended to Les's date.

Accordingly, he made his way over to the table where she was sitting, waiting until the song had finished before gently tapping her on the shoulder and motioning towards the door. Abby tucked her book under her arm, gave Les a little nod of farewell, then silently followed Davey out of the auditorium, through the lobby, and down the stairs of the theater to the street.

Davey would have made his brother come along to escort Abby back on principle (since she really was Les's date), but in the end, practical considerations won out: Davey knew that he would be able to make it back to the theater much quicker if he didn't have to slow his return pace for the younger boy's shorter strides.

"Did you have a good time tonight, Abby?" he asked courteously as they made their way down the street.

"It could have been worse," was the girl's frank reply. "At least I remembered to bring along my book. And it was interesting to watch Miss Medda's performance."

"I'm sorry Les wasn't a more attentive date," Davey apologized. As they passed by a narrow alleyway, he gave a tiny nod of acknowledgement to Henry, hidden in the shadows at his post keeping watch as they passed. "My brother means well, but he's still learning. It was kind of you to agree to go with him to the rally. I'm sure your sensibility will have a good influence on him, whether he realizes it or not."

"You're a good influence on my sister, too," Abby remarked. "Mama and Papa are happy that she's doing better in school now that she has to tutor you, and she hasn't seemed nearly as empty-headed as usual."

That wasn't where Davey had expected the conversation to go.

"I think Sadie was already smart before she began tutoring me," he remonstrated gently, "but maybe she just needed a reason to apply herself. Sometimes new circumstances or new people can draw things out of us that we didn't know were there."

"Well, if you can get Sadie to read for fun, I'll consider you a miracle-worker," Abby declared. "I keep telling her that she should pick up a book every once in a while, but she's never been interested."

Davey chuckled sympathetically. "Les is the same way. He only reads when he has to, and even then it's only the bare minimum. I've been trying to get him interested in books for years, but I guess I've kind of given up." He gave Abby a little grin. "How about this? If you'll try to get my brother to pick up a book, I'll do my best to convince Sadie that reading is actually a worthwhile diversion. We'll see who can get the other's sibling to give in first, and then we'll go do something to celebrate our victory - maybe take a trip to that used book store over by the tailor's where your sister works. Does that sound good?"

Abby nodded. "I'm not sure who has the more difficult task," she said, taking Davey's suggestion rather seriously, "but it can't hurt to try. Sadie's more likely to listen to you than to me."

"And I'd say the same thing about Les listening to you," Davey agreed, "so it's a well-designed strategy we've got in place."

They chatted the entire walk back to the tenement (Abby, like her sister, was a rather proficient conversationalist, though she was far more sober in manner) and Davey found it an interesting experience to be talking to someone who was just as precocious as Les but far more thoughtfully inclined. He'd often been struck by the fact that he and his brother didn't share very much in common - looks weren't the only thing - and at times he'd wondered what it would have been like to have had a younger sibling who was more similar to himself in temperament and disposition. Abby was probably the closest person he'd found up to this point.

Upon reaching the tenement, they climbed the stairs to the third floor, and Davey waited while Abby knocked on the door to her family's apartment. Philip Becker answered, enthusiastically welcoming them in and wanting to hear how the night had gone.

"You look like you enjoyed yourself, Abigail," he said as his daughter entered the apartment. "Did you have a good time at the rally?"

"The best part was talking with David on the way back," Abby replied. "He's read Treasure Island and The Swiss Family Robinson too, though we've agreed to disagree on which one has the better storyline."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that you've had a pleasant return trip," Philip Becker smiled. He turned to Davey. "Thank you for seeing Abigail back safely and at a reasonable hour, David. Sadie tells me that this whole event is your doing, so I'm sure you've had your hands full tonight."

"It wasn't any trouble," Davey replied. "And I enjoyed our conversation on the way back, too."

"We came up with a really good idea," Abby informed her father. "But I can't say more, lest someone overhear."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that, Abby," Sadie said as she walked into the room, carrying her handbag and a satchel which she set on the floor by her feet. "Those words make me suspect that some nefarious plotting is afoot." She glanced at her sister, who returned the look with a completely placid expression, and then at Davey, who had a little more trouble keeping a straight face. "What are you two up to?" she inquired, tapping her finger against her cheek.

"Nothing that concerns you," Abby answered coolly. "And you're not allowed to question David."

"Why ever not?" Sadie set her hands on her hips. "If he has nothing to hide, he certainly shouldn't be afraid of a little innocent investigation."

"Judith's rules," Abby shot back. "Personal conversations and matters discussed in confidence are off-limits to interrogation."

"Ju's not here, so her rules don't apply," Sadie pointed out. "Besides, she only used that rule whenever it suited her - she never actually observed it herself when it came to questioning me."

"Oldest sister's prerogative," Abby argued.

"Well I'm the oldest present at this time," Sadie observed with a little smirk. "So I say the rule is overruled."

Exasperated, Abby rolled her eyes. "Fine."

Changing her tactic, she turned to Davey and said rather severely, "You're sworn to secrecy, David. Don't tell her anything." And with a final huff in her older sister's direction, Abby marched off to her room.

Davey tried not to smile. Abby may have been mature and well-spoken for her age, but she was still nine years old, and she had that same theatrical superciliousness that he saw in Les rather often.

Perhaps the two younger siblings weren't so different after all.

"Well, I suppose there's nothing further that I can say," he said jokingly, "so I'll be heading out now." He was about to bid the landlord and his daughter good night when Philip Becker suddenly spoke up.

"David, since you're heading back to the theater, could I possibly appeal to you for another favor?"

Sadie began shaking her head. "Papa, no."

"Sadie is going to be spending the night at Margaret's," the landlord continued, "and she keeps insisting that she can walk over alone, but I'd rather that she didn't. I was planning to escort her myself, but one of our tenants just stopped by and needs assistance with an urgent matter, and I don't want to keep him waiting. Would you mind...?"

"Papa, I'll be fine," Sadie protested. "There's no need to inconvenience Davey; Margaret's place is close enough, and it's really not that late."

"It's no trouble to walk you over," Davey said quickly. "Really, I don't mind."

"There, you see, Sadie?" the landlord smiled. "As you said, Margaret's isn't that far out of the way, so there's no reason why you shouldn't take David up on his offer."

Sadie grimaced, looking unhappy with the arrangement. "Well...I suppose I've been out-voted," she conceded, gathering up her bags.

"Here, let me take that." Davey relieved her of the satchel which she relinquished with a word of thanks, and they made their way to the door, bidding Philip Becker goodnight before exiting the apartment and walking down the stairs to the street.

"I apologize for my father's uncharacteristic opportunism," Sadie said, still sounding put out. "It's not like him to ask for favors like that. He can be a little overprotective at times." She motioned slightly to the left, and they turned down a brightly-lit street.

"There's nothing to apologize for," Davey insisted. "You've done so much for me that it's a relief to be able to return the favor - although I suppose this wasn't something you asked for, so maybe it's not really a favor in that sense..."

"I didn't mean to sound ungracious." Sadie gave him an apologetic look. "I'm grateful for your company, Davey. I just didn't want to keep you away from the rally any longer than necessary. I know it's a big night for you, and you've already done my family a service by accompanying one Becker sister to her destination; you certainly don't need to be inconvenienced with another."

Before he could protest her statement, she changed the subject. "Speaking of which, how is the rally going so far from the standpoint of its master strategist?" She smiled up at him. "Did our signs manage to keep the masses from wandering aimlessly about Irving Hall?"

"The rally's going well so far," Davey answered, "and our signs worked perfectly - no aimless wandering to report."

"I'm pleased to hear that," Sadie replied. "It seems that all of your careful planning has paid off."

They turned down another street, and Davey quickly took the opportunity to mentally re-orient himself so that he wouldn't get lost on the way back to the theater.

"What do you and Margaret have planned for the evening?" he asked, once he'd gotten his bearings.

"Oh, nothing particularly riveting," Sadie answered lightly. "A few of the girls from our class spend the night at her family's apartment on occasion. We'll probably stay up half the time talking, and perhaps we'll play a few games and maybe do a little baking in the morning. I usually get relegated to the role of taste-tester since the girls know I'm useless in any other culinary capacity, but perhaps tomorrow will be the day I finally redeem myself." She shrugged, then continued, "There's nothing particularly interesting to discuss on that account. However…" she gave him an inquisitive look, "I am curious to know what you and my sister were plotting on the way home. It must be a rather intriguing secret, since Abby was so intent on making sure that I didn't find it out."

"It is an intriguing secret," Davey answered solemnly, unable to pass up the opportunity to tease her just a bit. "And I'm sure that its subject would be of interest to you."

"Well then," Sadie suggested, "couldn't you enlighten me on the matter?"

"I suppose I could," Davey conceded, pausing as if to think about it, "but…" he grinned at her, "I won't."

"Davey!"

"I've been sworn to secrecy, Sadie," he laughed, amused at the affronted pout she gave him. "I can't go breaking Abby's trust!"

Sadie huffed, sounding uncannily similar to her aforementioned younger sister. "Your integrity is most inconvenient in this instance," she said stiffly. "I suppose I must content myself with conjecture, then." But Davey saw a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

They crossed the street and came to a well-kept apartment complex. "Here's Margaret's," Sadie said, slowing her pace as they came to a streetlamp just outside the entrance to the building. "I'll be fine from here."

Davey had slung the satchel over his shoulder during the course of the walk, and as he moved to return it to her, it jostled against him a bit and he heard the faint tinkling sound of a small metal object hitting the ground and rolling a foot or two away to where it lay gleaming in the lamplight.

Not again...

"Is that my thimble?" Sadie asked in disbelief, reaching down to get it at the same time that Davey moved to pick it up.

They bumped heads.

"Oh!" Sadie exclaimed, looking a little dazed. "I'm sorry, Davey, I didn't - "

"It's my fault," he said at the same time. "I shouldn't have - "

They both reached for the thimble again, and this time, a jolt of awareness shot through Davey as his fingers accidentally brushed against hers.

"Sorry!" he apologized, pulling his hand back. "You go ahead."

Sadie picked up the tiny piece of copper, smiling as she did so. "Well, we're certainly the coordinated pair, aren't we?" she joked. "I'd venture to say I don't know which one of the two of us is more clumsy! But at least our mutual lack of agility is out in the open now, so there's no need to maintain a facade of sophistication in each other's company."

"You're not clumsy," Davey said quickly. "It's definitely me." He gave her a worried look, trying to ascertain if their collision had done any damage. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Sadie laughed. "Not at all! If Abby was here, she'd say that I'm much too hard-headed to be injured by a little bump like that."

"That does sound like something a younger sibling would say," Davey agreed, smiling in spite of himself, "though Les would probably add that there isn't anything in my head worth worrying about, anyway."

"Little imp," Sadie shook her head with that special mixture of exasperation and fondness characteristic of older siblings. "Just wait until he has to grow up and become responsible - he'll certainly have a greater appreciation for you then."

She held up the thimble. "Speaking of being responsible, I really shouldn't have tasked you with the burden of disposing of my things. I'm happy to take care of it, as I should have from the start." She tucked it away in her handbag.

"Actually…" the word left Davey's mouth before he could stop it. Sadie looked up at him in surprise. "Never mind," he backtracked. Race had already rescued the thimble once from the quick-fingered Calico, and Davey should have known better than to hastily stash it in his pocket like that after such a close call. The leader of the Bronx was right: if he couldn't manage to hang on it, he probably didn't deserve to keep it.

"Did you...want it back?" Sadie asked, looking at him in confusion as she reached into her handbag.

Davey rubbed the back of his neck. He really didn't understand why the thimble was so important to him, and he instinctively knew that it wasn't something that he should discuss with her, but he did want it back, despite his lack of a reason for keeping it…

"I should follow through on what I said I'd do," he mumbled finally, feeling guilty for giving such a vaguely-worded reason (especially when he knew that he had no intention of discarding the thimble...at least not immediately).

Sadie regarded him for a moment, looking like she wanted to question him further, but finally she nodded. "Fair enough," came her easy answer.

She held out the thimble, and Davey took it, careful to avoid touching her this time.

"Well, I've certainly held you up longer than I should have," Sadie said as she closed her handbag. "I hope I haven't made you miss anything important at the rally."

"You haven't," Davey promised. "And they'll be fine without me."

"I highly doubt that," came her mild answer, "but it's kind of you to assure me by saying so."

Smiling at him, she reached up to straighten his newsboy cap, which had been knocked askew in their collision. "Thank you for walking me over, Davey," she said, tugging it gently into place. "I hope that the rally turns out to be everything you wanted it to be, and more."

Stepping back, she adjusted her bag on her shoulder, giving him a final encouraging look.

And then she turned and disappeared into the apartment building, leaving him standing there under the glow of the street lamp, holding her thimble in his hand.