Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.
Chapter 41: Head-to-Head
The person who had come up with the notion that Sundays were for lying around all day most certainly had never been a newsie, Race reflected. The papes never stopped, which meant that a newsie's work was never done, regardless of the day of the week, and leisure time was reserved for after working hours, when your wares had been peddled and your pennies earned.
Of course, being on strike was the exception, an unusual sort of indefinite respite that didn't so much invite relaxation as it brought on antsiness. The more happy-go-lucky newsies embraced it, taking advantage of the extra free time to bum around, while the more industrious ones either set themselves to small tasks or else simply fidgeted under the forced inactivity.
Race normally would have been amongst those drinking in the moment and lazing around just because he could, but as the newsie in charge, he was afforded no such luxury.
Taking a puff from his cigar, he leaned against the wall of the lodging house, taking advantage of a rare moment alone to reflect. He'd kept his frustrations under control on the walk home the night before (his objective hadn't actually been to debrief so much as to make sure that Davey didn't run himself ragged planning for the next thing when the rally had only just concluded), but now that each of them had gotten a few hours of rest, it was time to start strategizing again. The newsies had been sent out of the lodging house and had been told to keep out of trouble (a directive that was probably being ignored at this very moment, but as long as no one came back looking too bruised up, Race didn't care what they decided to do to amuse themselves). They'd worked hard the night before at the rally and deserved some time to blow off steam.
He wished that he could be out there with them.
Sighing, Race snuffed out his cigar as he caught sight of Davey coming down the street.
"How'd you sleep, Race?" the other newsie asked as he arrived. Race had off-handedly mentioned his insomnia once, and he was surprised that Davey had remembered it with all of the other details he'd been having to keep straight in his mind.
"Well enough," he shrugged. "You?"
"Out like a light," Davey grinned. "And happy to report that, per your request, I've done very little thinking, at least by my normal standards."
Race pushed himself off of the wall where he'd been leaning. "Well, that's a start," he acknowledged, leading the way back towards the lodging house. "Guess it'd be askin' too much for you to shut down that big brain of yours completely."
They made their way up the stairs to the bunk room and Race opened the door, motioning for Davey to precede him towards the table where they usually met.
"I got a couple of ideas I wanna run by you," he began as they made their way down the narrow aisle between the rows of bunk beds. "I was thinkin' that it might be better if we - " he stopped short, almost running into Davey as the taller boy abruptly came to a halt.
"What's the deal, Dave?" Race grumbled, peeking over the other newsie's shoulder to see what had caused the sudden standstill.
Jack rose from where he'd been sitting at the table.
"Heya fellas," he said hesitantly. "You, uh...mind if I join you?"
Race pushed his way past Davey, the anger that he'd kept in check for the past week and a half boiling over. "What are you doin' here?" he demanded hotly. "Last I heard, you didn't want to have anything to do with the strike!"
Jack's expression darkened slightly. "Racer, you have to let me explain - "
"You ain't the boss of me anymore, Kelly," Race snapped, too incensed to listen. "I don't haf'ta let'cha do anything. You gave up that right when you turned on us!"
"Oh, so you's just gonna run your mouth like a little kid, then?" Jack scoffed, his temper flaring up as well. "Throwin' a fit instead of listenin' to reason?"
Race snarled and lunged forward, but Davey quickly grabbed his arm. "Race, stop! This isn't the way to solve things!"
"Let him go, Dave," Jack commanded. He locked eyes with Race. "You want to take a swing at me, Racer?" he challenged. "Huh?" He held his arms out to his sides. "Go ahead."
Race closed the distance with furious speed, cocking his hand back into fist. But at the last second, he checked his swing, slamming both of his palms down onto the table beside Jack instead and swearing loudly as he did so.
For a moment, nobody moved. Race remained hunched over, his hands on the table and his breathing ragged. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack slowly lower his arms.
"Racer…" he began.
"You think I give a damn what you have to say, Jacky?" Race interrupted through clenched teeth. "After that stunt you pulled at the rally? After you left us to run the strike by ourselves?"
"Racer - "
"You knew we was gonna be hurtin' with all the boys gettin' roughed up in the brawl with the bulls! You knew Crutchie was in The Refuge and couldn't help us! You knew I don't know the first thing about leadin' the newsies through this kinda thing, Jack, and you sat it out while I - "
"You had Davey!" Jack interrupted.
"And he's the only reason this whole thing ain't goin' up in flames right now!" Race retorted, straightening up to look Jack in the eye. "I ain't sayin' I didn't have good enough help! I'm sayin' I thought I could trust you! I thought you was the kind who would be there, Jack! Ain't that what you always told us? That we's a family, and that family looks out for each other?" He made a sound of disgust, shaking his head. "Guess those was all just empty words, huh?"
"Racer - " Jack began for a third time.
"Save it, Kelly," Race muttered bitterly as he turned and left the bunk room.
He'd had enough.
Silence descended in the wake of Race's outraged departure, and Jack found himself trying to calm his own burning anger.
That hadn't gone so well.
He shot a look at Davey, who was still standing in almost the exact same spot where he'd stopped when he'd first caught sight of Jack. Apprehension and bewilderment were written all over his face, and for once, he said nothing, seemingly unwilling or unable to speak. Between the two of them, they'd never wanted for words before...but now the quiet hung between them, and Jack found the impasse unsettling.
"Ya wanna have at me too, Davey?" he asked finally, unable to stand the silence any longer.
For a moment, Davey didn't respond, and Jack was almost going to resort to goading him into a reply, when the other boy suddenly spoke.
"No," he answered. "Not like that." He gave Jack a level look. "But I do want to know why you did it." His tone and expression were almost unreadable now, the confusion that had formerly claimed his features suddenly gone, and Jack found himself wondering what Davey really thought about the whole situation, and if he'd ever be able to find out, now that the other boy had put up a wall of blank detachment.
Well, at least he'd given Jack a fighting chance to explain himself.
"Pulitzer forced my hand, Dave," he said, deciding he might as well be straightforward. He knew that Davey would let him give his full explanation without interrupting, but he also sensed that he needed to give the unembellished truth if he wanted to have any hope of regaining Davey's trust. He knew from experience that Race would (probably) come around eventually, but he hadn't known Davey long enough to determine if their friendship was on the brink of being irreparably damaged, and he didn't want to risk it. Honesty, in this case, would be the wisest approach.
"When I went to see him to invite him to the rally, he had the Delanceys and Snyder there waitin' for me," Jack continued. "He told me he was gonna have me hauled off to The Refuge if I didn't speak against the strike, and that he'd go after you and Racer, too. I dunno for sure how he found out, but somehow he knew exactly where the rally was gonna be held, and he knew that you and Race was the ones in charge."
He glanced at Davey's face and saw the same inscrutable expression there, but if he had to guess what was going on in the other newsie's head, it probably would have sounded something like "I told you so." Davey had tried to warn him, and Jack should have listened. But that was water under the bridge now.
"I know you ain't ever seen The Refuge for yourself, Davey," Jack said slowly, walking over to the table and retrieving the artist's roll that housed his drawings, "but this is just a glimpse of it." He pulled out a few of his sketches and handed them to Davey, who took them silently.
For a moment it was quiet as the dark-haired boy took in the drawings and Jack watched his face. The studied neutrality that had been in Davey's expression before quickly changed from shocked to horrified in an instant, then settled into a deeply troubled look.
"Jack…" he trailed off. "I…"
"This ain't even the half of it," Jack muttered, holding out his hands for the drawings and rolling them back up.
"You've been locked up there?" Davey asked, clearly distressed by the thought. "In those kinds of conditions?"
Jack nodded. "Me, Racer, several of the other fellas, too." He looked Davey in the eye. "Could you imagine yourself there, Dave? You and your brother? Along with the rest of the boys?"
Davey didn't say anything in response, but the look on his face was answer enough.
"That's why I did it," Jack said soberly. "I couldn't stand the thought of that happenin' to any one of you. Pulitzer got to my head, made me think it was hopeless, that we didn't have any chance of winnin.' I didn't see any other way out. I thought if I couldn't save the strike, I could at least keep you all safe."
"What about the money?" Davey asked quietly.
The question was weighted, but somehow free of accusation.
Jack shook his head. "Part of Pulitzer's deal. He said if I spoke against the strike, he'd give me enough cash to buy a train ticket outta here. Probably figured I'd be makin' a few enemies and would wanna skip town, and the old snake was right about that. I felt so terrible I almost got on a train first thing I could after leavin' the rally."
"So you didn't do it for the money." It was a statement, not a question, and the significance of that was not lost on Jack.
"Nah, I didn't," he said, affirming the declaration. "There ain't enough money in The World to get me to sell out on my boys."
Davey acknowledged the joke with the faintest hint of a smile, but he still looked a little uneasy. "Why didn't you leave?" he asked. "I mean, if you had the money, and you wanted to go…"
Jack shrugged. "Guess something changed my mind."
"Or someone, maybe?" Davey suggested quickly.
Jack looked at him in surprise, and saw that the smile that had been just barely present a moment ago had grown significantly.
"What are you tryin' to say?"
"Nothing." Davey slid his hands into his pockets with a shrug. "Just glad you decided to stick around." There was definitely a grin on his face now.
"Shaddup," Jack growled, annoyed at the jab but inwardly pleased that Davey seemed to have forgiven him. He'd been worried that he wouldn't possess the verbal acuity necessary to convince the other boy of his sincerity, but it seemed that whatever he'd said had been enough to satisfy Davey, at least for now.
One down, one to go.
"So, speaking of Katherine - " Davey began.
"Oh, we's speakin' of Katherine now?" Jack interrupted, unwilling to be baited again.
Davey gave him an unamused look. "Speaking of Katherine," he repeated, "has she talked to you recently? About anything important?"
"Funny you should mention it," Jack said. He couldn't have scripted a better segue himself. "I actually have somethin' surprisin' to tell you about her. She...well, she ain't exactly the person we thought she was."
Davey opened his mouth to say something, but Jack quickly cut him off. "It's all right though, Dave," he said assuringly. "She's still on our side. It's just that she's got connections to Pulitzer that we didn't know about."
"She's his daughter," Davey stated.
"Yeah, can you believe - " Jack stopped short. "Wait...you...you knew?" he sputtered.
Davey nodded. "It's a long story, but I found out accidentally - before the rally."
"And you didn't tell me?"
"Jack, I couldn't even find you until you showed up and gave your speech that night," Davey reminded him. "And it wasn't my secret to tell. I encouraged Katherine to talk to you herself, and she told me that she would."
Jack grunted in reply, seeing the logic in the other newsie's answer but still a little put out. "Do any of the other boys know?" he asked.
Davey shook his head. "Not that I know of. I haven't said anything to them."
"Well, her identity's only half of it," Jack said, scratching his head as he pondered his next move. A part of him wanted to take the easy way out, to share the rest of the plan with Davey and then leave it to the other boy to break the news to Race and the rest of the lodging house. But that was the coward's way out. And it would only temporarily delay the inevitable confrontation that was coming. Jack knew that he needed to be the one to make it right with his aggrieved second-in-command and with the rest of the boys. Davey had been playing go-between long enough.
"You have any idea where Racer might've gone?" Jack asked wearily. "Katherine and I came up with a few ideas, but I'd rather fill both of you fellas in at the same time."
"I'll go look for him," Davey offered. "We were supposed to meet to talk about some things, so he probably hasn't gone far." He started towards the stairs and was halfway out of the room before Jack called out to him.
"Hey, just so we's clear…"
Davey turned back, glancing at him in surprise.
"...no hard feelings?" Jack finished, giving the other boy an apologetic look.
Davey hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. "No hard feelings, Jack. I think you've already been through enough. Even if I wish things had gone differently…" he trailed off, seeming to think the better of what he'd been about to say. "Well, I know you did the best you could," he said, brushing the earlier thought aside. "We all did."
"Yeah," Jack agreed, a little uncomfortable with the words that had been left unspoken, but reluctant to contradict Davey when he was clearly trying so hard to let bygones be bygones.
"Well, just wanted to make sure," he said, giving the other boy a hesitant half-grin. "You did tell me on the walk back from Brooklyn that you was gonna find a way to make me regret it if I left you to run the strike by yourself."
"Technically, you left me with Race, so I can't make good on that threat," Davey answered. "But I think you'll have your work cut out for you when it comes to making peace with him, regardless of any potential retribution from me." He gave Jack a mirthless smile. "I'll go see if I can find him."
Then he turned and left the room, leaving Jack to wait and stew alone. The conversation with Davey had gone much easier than he'd expected, but he had no doubt that the other boy was right: the real work was still to come.
A/N: If it could have been possible to add one more thing to Newsies, I would have really loved to see a reconciliation scene between Jack and Davey after "Something to Believe In" and before "Once and For All." I understand why it wasn't included for timing purposes, but it does seem to leave a little bit of a narrative gap when Davey goes from the utterly betrayed look that he gives Jack at the rally to "It's good to have you back again" with no real explanation for how he got there. Maybe he's just really forgiving - it's possible. But I do wish that the development of Jack and Davey's friendship hadn't been eclipsed by the Jatherine subplot. This is one area where I think the movie version of Newsies did a much better job.
If I had written this scene as a one-shot that focused on Jack and Davey's friendship, it would have been a lot more tense and emotional on Davey's side (and that's originally how I expected it to go), but this story has a slightly different relational dynamic in that Race's role in the strike is more prominent than it was in the musical, so that certainly affected how things unfolded - Davey is trying to play peacemaker between Jack and Race rather than simply speaking from his own feelings, so he's a lot more restrained than he would be if he wasn't in that position.
I'd be eager to hear what you thought of this "missing scene" and/or any other reflection this chapter might have raised if you'd be willing to share! Any kind of feedback or interaction would be appreciated.
