Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.
Chapter 80: Bridging the Gap
Jack shoved his hands into his pockets as he made his way down the avenue away from Katherine's apartment building.
He knew that he had just dodged a bullet. They'd been so close to ending an already terrible evening with a spat, and though heated arguments between them weren't anything new, this likely would have been a bad one if Katherine hadn't gotten a hold of herself first and nipped it in the bud.
Jack let out a frustrated breath, the one he'd been holding in all night long. He was still angry. Not at Katherine anymore - he understood her frustrations after she'd divulged the secretly high hopes she'd had for the dinner, and he knew that she was only upset because she cared - but he was still angry at Pulitzer, and at the whole situation.
He thought that he would have felt confident facing the condescending newspaper owner after he'd won the face-off that had concluded the strike, but ironically he'd only felt less sure of himself as the months had worn on and he'd been drawn closer and closer to Pulitzer - first when he'd taken the cartoonist job at The World, and now with this uncomfortably personal invitation to dinner. The stakes felt higher, and the expectations more confining, and Katherine was mixed up in the middle of it all, which made things even harder and more confusing.
Was it worth it? Jack wondered to himself as he trudged down the street. He hadn't intended to fall in love with a rich girl, let alone the daughter of one of the most powerful men in New York. If he'd been more mercenary, the move would have made sense, but he wasn't out for her money, and honestly wished most of the time that it would just go away so they could be two people who were truly on equal footing, not two people who had tacitly agreed to ignore the obvious differences in life station because they were young and reckless and in love.
The fact that he was even asking himself the question showed how much the dinner engagement had unsettled him. It hadn't just been Pulitzer's belittling words - it was the whole setting, too, the fancy furniture and the excessive amount of food and the ridiculous ornamentation of the entire proceeding - all of it had grated on Jack as he'd sat there in his ridiculous suit, feeling every inch the outsider that he knew he was.
He wasn't ready to go back to the lodging house yet; the boys would no doubt be waiting to pounce on him with questions and teasing remarks, and he had no patience for that now.
So he turned his footsteps towards Baxter Street. Judging from the moon, it was probably between nine thirty and ten o'clock in the evening, which strictly speaking wasn't a polite time to be making a social call, but he'd been proper enough for one night, and he wasn't planning to knock on the front door anyway.
He was pretty sure that Davey would still be up. And if Jack was remembering the layout of the Jacobses' apartment correctly from when he'd been there earlier that evening, there was a fire escape right outside the window, which would give him all the access he needed to get his friend's attention.
Davey was the only newsie Jack was willing to see at the moment. He knew that the older Jacobs brother wouldn't tease if the matter was serious, and that he'd listen if Jack wanted to air his thoughts. Plus, he hadn't told Jack about the oyster fork or the palate cleansers, so Jack ought to give him a well-deserved reprimand for that omission.
The tenement where the Jacobses lived was quiet when Jack arrived, though lights were still on in many of the windows. He made his way around to the back of the building, locating the fire escape easily in the dim glow and mentally orienting himself to make sure that he didn't peek into the wrong window. Once he'd determined his destination, he pulled himself up onto the first level of the fire escape with a clatter, not caring that his expensive suit was getting dirty in the process.
He climbed until he reached the level of the second floor, then cautiously hunkered down and peered through the glass.
Sure enough, it was the Jacobses' apartment; the window was closed, and a thin curtain was drawn across it, but there was a light on inside, and Jack could easily make out the bed by the window and a small figure - Les - curled up under a blanket, asleep. Someone was moving inside the apartment too, but they were too far away for Jack to clearly make out.
Hopefully it was Davey and not his parents.
Jack was just about to rap quietly on the glass, when he heard the sound of the fire escape rattling below, and he looked down in surprise to see a man hoisting himself up.
"Good evening," the newcomer called, his voice holding a warning despite its polite overtone. "Can I help you, young man?"
Jack hesitated. He wasn't expecting someone to be wandering around the back of the tenement this late at night, so he hadn't been particularly quiet or careful. The man down below on the fire escape didn't look very large or imposing, but there was an authority in his voice that Jack found himself reluctant to test.
"I was just tryin' to speak with a friend," he answered. "Didn't want to wake up the whole family by knockin' on the door, ya know?"
To his dismay, the man continued climbing up the fire escape, closing the distance between them. "That's considerate of you," he said, the same warning edge in his voice, "but I think you'll understand why it also sounds suspicious. Most folks don't go prowling around people's windows late at night." He reached the ladder below Jack and stopped, examining him with a wary eye. "Does your friend know that you're coming?"
"No, he don't," Jack admitted. "It...uh...wasn't really a planned thing."
"I see," the man said shortly. He gave Jack a scrutinizing look, then said, "I'm sorry, but that excuse just doesn't sit right; you're going to have to leave. I won't have you disturbing my tenants."
Jack scowled. Of course it was just his luck to get caught by the landlord of all people.
"If you aren't willing to vacate the premises of your own accord, I'll have to escort you off," the man said wearily. "I'll even call the police if I have to, but I'd really rather not do that."
"Callin' the bulls won't be necessary," Jack said grudgingly, resigned to the fact that this unfortunate turn of events was going to prevent him from speaking to Davey that night. There was no way he was risking a trip to The Refuge for this. He stood up and was about to make his way down the rungs of the fire escape, when suddenly the window opened and Les Jacobs stuck his head out.
"David, I was right - it is Jack!" he cried excitedly. "Jack, what are you doing outside on the fire escape?"
"Les, get down!" came Davey's stern voice from inside the apartment. "You don't know that it's Jack out there! It could be someone who just sounds like him, and you should never open the window to - " he stopped abruptly as he appeared at the opening, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw that it was, indeed, Jack who was standing there on the fire escape.
"See? Told ya," Les smirked.
"Jack, what - ?" Davey stole a look over his shoulder, then climbed onto the bed so that he could get closer. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice laced with concern. "Are you running away from Snyder?"
"Nah," Jack shook his head ruefully. "Just your landlord." No sooner had he finished speaking, when the man himself joined him on the platform outside the Jacobses' window.
"So, you do know the family," he said, sounding surprised. Jack shrugged.
"Mr. Becker, this is Jack," Davey explained. "He's one of the newsboys I sell papers with."
"Ah, a newsie!" the man beamed, seemingly much more affable now that it had been determined that Jack was not, in fact, an ill-intended trespasser. "I take it you sell for The World like David and Les here?"
"Yessir," Jack nodded.
"Well, I'll be candid and say that I prefer The Journal as David well knows," the man disclosed, giving Davey a smile, "but I have to respect you boys for leading the charge when it came to striking for a living wage. It seems that your work has made things better for quite a few people."
"We's doin' what we can," Jack answered modestly. "It ain't an easy life, but we makes the best of it."
"Well, that's something I can certainly appreciate," the landlord acknowledged. "I still remember my years as a shoe-shiner - it was back-breaking work, but it taught me a lot of lessons that are still applicable to my present occupation. I'm thankful for those days, even if I don't miss them." He looked at Jack. "Anyway, I'll let you get to talking, but I'd appreciate it if you'd try not to make this a habit, Jack - I happened to be in one of the apartments on the first floor fixing something for a tenant, and you gave him quite a scare when he saw you climbing the ladder outside his window!"
The mildly chiding words were accompanied by another affable smile, and without further ado, the landlord took his leave, making his way nimbly down the fire escape.
"Goodnight Mr. Becker," Davey called after him, Les echoing the farewell. The man looked up at them and waved, then continued the rest of the way down, dropping easily onto the ground below and then disappearing into the dark.
"He don't seem half bad," Jack remarked as the landlord's footsteps faded away.
"He's not," Davey answered. "He's actually been extremely generous with our family ever since we moved here. He's giving us a really reasonable rate on our rent, and like I've mentioned before, he pays me to do odd jobs around the tenement when I'm not selling papers. It's helped a lot, especially with my dad being out of work and Les being back in school." Davey turned to his younger brother who was still peering eagerly out the window.
"Speaking of which," the older boy said, "tomorrow's a school night, so you ought to go back to bed, Les."
"I'm already in bed," Les pointed out. "And I want to hear what Jack has to say!"
"How 'bout this, kiddo?" Jack intervened before Davey could object. "I'll fill you in on everythin' this weekend when we sell together, and I'll take you to lunch at Jacobi's, too, just you and me. We won't even let your brother tag along with us - he's gonna have to find his own sellin' partner. All right? Deal?"
"Deal!" Les exclaimed eagerly. He flopped down in bed and drew the covers over himself, all obedience now that his compliance had been properly incentivized. "Goodnight, Jack!"
"You have to actually go back to sleep, Les," Davey admonished as he ducked through the window to join Jack on the fire escape. "No eavesdropping. I'm going to close the window, and when Jack and I are done talking, I'll come back in through the front door - I've got the key. So don't wait up, all right? The deal's off if you do."
Les nodded. "Goodnight, David."
"Goodnight, Les." Davey shut the window and waited until Les had drawn the curtain closed again, then turned to face Jack.
"I forgot to ask...are you okay if we talk out here?" he asked. "Or would you prefer to take a walk? I can go get changed."
"Here's fine," Jack grunted, easing himself into a sitting position. He didn't want the trouble of having to monitor where their steps were taking them as they talked - this late at night, a fellow could get himself into a lot of trouble if he happened to wander into the wrong neighborhood, and even the relatively safe parts of town could be dangerous if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. If he'd been by himself, simply trying to get from one destination to the next, he wouldn't have been too worried - he knew how to disappear if he needed to, and he knew how to throw fists if it came to that, but he was pretty sure Davey wasn't too experienced in either of those things.
"So, how'd dinner go?" the older Jacobs brother asked as he too took a seat on the platform of the fire escape. "I'm surprised that you finished so early."
"Wasn't near quick enough for my taste," Jack muttered, loosening his tie. It felt odd to be the more well-dressed one, wearing his (now rather sad-looking) suit while sitting across from Davey in his pajamas. "Let's just say if you'd actually bet with Racer on me handlin' myself well tonight, you would've lost."
"It couldn't have been that bad."
Jack scoffed. "Oh, it was bad all right."
"What'd you do? Stab Pulitzer with a salad fork?" Davey joked.
"Nah," Jack rewarded the attempt at levity with a half-grin. "Sure wanted to, though."
Davey gave him a sympathetic look. "Was he…" he paused as though trying to find the right words. "Did he give you a hard time? Or talk down to you?"
Jack nodded. "That's pretty much all he did. Kath seemed to think he was just bein' his normal self, but I dunno - it felt pretty disparagin' to me."
"You might both be correct," Davey mused. "I think people who are well-off don't realize how scornful they come across sometimes, whether they mean to or not." He gave Jack a grim smile. "If the way I've seen Pulitzer talk to you before is anything to go by, though, I'd be inclined to believe you. Maybe Katherine has just gotten so used to her father's disdain that it doesn't register any more."
"Yeah, maybe," Jack agreed. "Anyway, the whole night was a wash. We was supposed to try to convince Pulitzer to let Kath publish her article on The Refuge - you know, the one I mentioned to you the other day while we was sellin' - and I didn't know it, but she was hopin' to ask him to lift the ban on her doin' any reportin' too, but that all went out the window." He gave a rueful shake of his head. "I tried to let it go, all those remarks that Joe was makin', but they just got to me, ya know? I guess I kinda felt like it weren't right of him to cut me down like that when he's the one holdin' all the cards anyway. I'm stuck workin' for him, stuck tryin' to act nice 'cause he's Kath's father, pretendin' like I don't hate his guts….it makes me feel trapped, like I gotta answer to him now instead of just answerin' to myself."
He sighed. "I guess it just made me start thinkin' - is it worth it? Changin' all of these things about my life and tryin' to fit into Katherine's world when we both know we's on the opposite ends of things? Ain't no crime in bein' poor, and poor's what I is, but I'm wonderin' if I'm just foolin' myself, tryin' to pretend that a guy like me can make it with a girl who ain't ever known what bein' hungry or sleepin' on the streets feels like. I ain't sure if this is just some kinda delusional fairytale nonsense we's livin', or if it could actually work." He gave Davey a half-smile. "Figured I'd better ask you what you thought, since you's Mister 'love is a big responsibility' and all that."
Davey laughed softly. "You remember that?"
"Yeah; it was on the way back from Brooklyn when the strike was just startin'. I sure learned a lot about'cha in those hours we spent walkin' - found out that you ain't a 'Hattan boy, that your family's moved a lot, and that you's a complete killjoy when it comes to girls. Startin' to wonder if you might've had a point, though...this thing with Katherine sure ain't been a walk in the park."
"Told you," Davey smirked.
"Shaddup." Jack flicked a piece of lint from his suit in the other newsie's direction. "It's been a bad enough night without you rubbin' it in."
"Sorry," Davey replied in the most unapologetic tone that Jack had ever heard. "I'll try to stay on task. You were asking for my opinion on whether or not your relationship with Katherine could actually work, given your significant differences in social class and background, right?"
Jack nodded. "Yeah, somethin' like that."
Davey was silent for a moment, clearly thinking through his response, and Jack picked at his suit while he waited. He really couldn't wait to get out of the cursed thing.
"You probably won't like this answer, Jack…" Davey began, "...but I think it's going to depend on you. And Katherine, too. You're trying to bridge a really big gap, and those kinds of differences don't go away easily - or ever, even. But I think if you recognize that, and if you're willing to do the extra work of trying to understand each other when those differences come out - it's not impossible. Most things aren't, if both sides are determined to make it happen. At least, that's my theory. I can't say I'm an expert on this kind of thing."
"So what wouldja do if you was me?" Jack asked, wanting to get out of the abstract and into the nitty gritty of what his friend actually thought.
"If I was you, I wouldn't have been delusional enough to fall in love with a heiress in the first place," was the other newsie's blunt reply.
"'Cause you ain't willin' to put in the effort to make it work?" Jack jibed.
"No, because I just wouldn't have gone there," Davey answered. "You'd have to be a bit of an idealist to challenge a class gap that big."
"Ain't you contradictin' the advice you just gave me? You just said most things is possible if both sides is willin' to put in the work!"
"And I stand by that assertion. But we're talking differences in temperament now, Jack," Davey clarified. "Any relationship - romantic or otherwise - takes work. And putting in that work is worth it and can overcome a lot. But not everyone has the boldness to defy the system."
Jack rolled his eyes. "That's rich comin' from the guy who practically got the whole city riled up enough to go on strike."
"All of us got the city to go on strike," Davey reminded him. "And this is different. We're talking about feelings, not rights."
"You's splittin' hairs now, Dave."
"I'm just trying to point out the discrepancies in your argument." Davey sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as though he was thinking very hard.
"I have a feeling that this is just one subject we're not going to ever see eye-to-eye on," he muttered. He stayed that way for a moment longer, then abruptly straightened up, looking Jack in the eye.
"Sorry, I probably made that more convoluted than it needed to be," he admitted. "At the end of the day - for everyone, regardless of personality - I think it's going to come down to how much you want the other person, and how much they want you. Some situations may be more challenging than others where the differences are greater, but ultimately it's a matter of what the relationship is worth to both sides. If it's worth a lot, then the work it takes, and the obstacles that get in the way, won't be enough to stop you - assuming, of course, that there are no extraneous circumstances preventing things. But that's besides the point. The bottom line is, if you and Katherine really love each other and want to be together, you're going to have to put a lot of effort into your relationship, but you'll find a way to make it work, and it'll be worth it in the end."
Davey concluded his ramble with a self-conscious smile. "I guess it would've been easier if I'd just told you that last sentence, huh?" he asked.
"Nah, understandin' the whole thing's important," Jack assured him. "Sometimes we gotta talk our thoughts out." He gave his friend a grin. "I haf'ta say, though...for a fella who ain't got any experience with girls, you sure got a lot to say on the subject."
Davey rolled his eyes. "It's not like I live under a rock, Jack. Just because I haven't courted a girl before doesn't mean I can't make observations about other people's relationships or on human nature in general. Like I said, this kind of thing applies to friendships, too - those aren't easy to maintain, either."
"Ain't that the truth," Jack agreed, thinking of the drawn-out friction between himself and Race.
"That being said, you probably should talk to someone with actual experience," Davey conceded. "Preferably someone older. I'm not really sure if my theory is sound. I've never tested it out. Obviously."
"Right, 'cause you's too busy doin' big important things and tryin' to change the world," Jack joked.
"No, because I'm too preoccupied trying to help support my parents and keep my little brother out of trouble," Davey corrected him. "I don't have time for anything else."
"Oh, and you think the rest of us is on playtime?" Jack snorted. "I got a whole lodgin' house full of little brothers to look after, Dave, and that ain't stoppin' me from goin' out with a girl."
"Yes, but again, I'm not like you, Jack," Davey replied patiently. "I don't trust people quickly or easily. It takes a long time for me to warm up to anyone, much less…" he trailed off, as though suddenly having second thoughts about what he'd planned to say. "It just takes me a long time," he finished vaguely. "Time that I don't have. And even if I did have time, I don't have your charm or your confidence."
"Hey, don't be so sure about that," Jack said encouragingly. "You might have better luck than you's givin' yourself credit for. Ain't gonna know 'till you try."
There was a beat of silence. Then Davey said quietly, "I have, actually. Tried, I mean."
"Wait, what?" Jack gave him an accusing look. "You told me on the walk back from Brooklyn that you ain't ever been smitten with a pretty girl!"
"I didn't say that, Jack. I just said that I didn't have time for that sort of thing. You assumed I meant that I hadn't."
"That was misleadin' Dave."
"No worse than improving the truth."
"So what happened?" Jack asked curiously, abandoning the brief quibble in favor of pursuing the information he was actually interested in. "What'd she say when you told her you was sweet on her?"
Davey gave him a small smile. "She laughed and told me I wasn't her kind of boy. I should have known better than to talk to her about it - the signs were there all along, I was just too naive to see them. But that was years ago; I've learned a few things since then, and I'm not going to repeat my mistake."
"'Cause you ain't plannin' on ever tryin' again?" Jack asked, only half-joking.
"No. Because I understand what she meant now."
"Whaddya mean?"
Davey paused for a moment before answering. "I realized that I don't have the kinds of qualities most people are looking for in a romantic partner," he said finally, and Jack could tell that this wasn't the first time he'd thought about the subject, because there was no embarrassment or faltering in the disclosure, only the same matter-of-fact tone that Davey used when he was talking about the weather.
"How'd you come to that conclusion?" Jack prodded, still not understanding his friend's line of reasoning.
Davey shrugged. "Observation and deduction. It's not that hard to figure out what people want if you take the time."
"Whaddya think you's missin'?"
"Well...lots of things. But it's not just what I don't have. It's mostly what I do too much of. Talking, for instance. And thinking. Over-analyzing and over-feeling. Things I've tried to change, but haven't figured out how to stop. I don't know - it's complicated."
"Pretty sure you's bein' too hard on yourself."
"I'm just being realistic, Jack. I've known this for a while, and I've made peace with it. Maybe one day I'll find someone who's as different as I am and can understand my idiosyncrasies, but in the meantime…" Davey shrugged again, "there are too many other meaningful things for me to focus on. I'm not suffering by any stretch of the imagination." He grinned at Jack. "Besides, helping you navigate your relationship with Katherine is keeping me busy enough. If I was already running around with my own sweetheart, I wouldn't have time to teach you table manners or talk to you on the fire escape."
Jack snorted a laugh. "Yeah, about that teachin', Dave...you kinda left out some real important parts. Left me hangin' a few times at dinner tonight."
"I did?"
"Yeah - like the fourth fork, the little one that's for oysters. And the palate cleansers. Had no idea what to do with either of 'em."
"We didn't have those things at the dinner I went to," Davey confessed, giving Jack an apologetic look. "I would have told you about them otherwise."
"I figured." Jack grinned good-naturedly, reaching up again to further loosen his tie. He was already beginning to feel a little better. The situation was exactly the same, but it had helped to have his friend's vote of confidence as well as his affirmation that Jack wasn't making things up when it came to Pulitzer being a rat (or, more accurately, a rattlesnake). He'd learned a few interesting things about Davey, too, and filed them away for consideration at another time. It was already getting late, and he ought to let his friend go inside.
"Well, I don't wanna keep you any longer," Jack said, stretching before he slowly got to his feet. "It's gettin' late, and I should head back to the lodgin' house, too."
"Do you want to sleep here tonight?" Davey offered as they began making their way down the fire escape. "My parents wouldn't mind."
"Nah, thanks though," Jack answered. "The boys'll be worried 'bout me if I don't show, and it ain't too far of a walk."
"If you're sure," Davey conceded.
They made their way down to the ground and walked quietly around to the front of the tenement, careful not to make too much noise as they passed by several windows which had now gone dark.
"Be careful going back," Davey warned as they parted ways.
"Sure," Jack replied. "Thanks for the talk, and don't stay up worryin' about me, all right?" He gave his friend a half-grin before he raised his hand in farewell. "I'll see ya tomorrow bright and early, Dave - carryin' the banner."
"Carrying the banner," Davey echoed as he started up the stairs. "Goodnight, Jack."
A/N: Thanks for reading this chapter! :) Would you be so kind as to leave a review letting me know what you thought of it? I promise, I am going somewhere with all these details, and there will be an end to this story when all of these slower passages of characterization will fall into place. Thanks for being so patient and for hanging in there with me!
