Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.
Chapter 106: A Spontaneous Errand
The snow crunched pleasantly under Abby's feet, and she admired the effect of the gently falling flakes against her sage colored coat with a smile of satisfaction. She generally wasn't one to care about the aesthetics of weather or wardrobe, but it was the first snow of the season, her new coat was a particularly pleasing shade of green, and school had been unexpectedly cancelled that day on account of the schoolmaster coming down with a mild case of the flu, so Abby was in high spirits as she walked along next to her sister on their way home to the tenement. A warm fire, a stack of unread books, and perhaps even a cup of hot chocolate awaited, and Abby was eager to spend the rest of the day indoors, lost in a story while the snow continued to fall outside. It had stormed heavily all day before and overnight, leaving a substantial blanket of white on the streets and sidewalks, but just this morning the weather had turned, and the snow was only falling gently now, though the air retained its biting chill.
"What's Margaret doing this afternoon?" Abby asked her sister, a bit curious as to how the older girl planned to spend her unexpected day off.
"She and James left after we were dismissed," Sadie answered. "I'm sure they'll find some place to be alone together and enjoy each other's company."
"Are you disappointed that she can't spend time with you?"
Sadie smiled. "Perhaps a little, but I completely understand. James is her sweetheart, and it's not often that we have a day off like this. I'm glad they're taking the opportunity to spend it together."
Her tone was lighthearted, but Abby could tell that there was a trace of sadness in it, too. Sadie was the kind of girl who preferred to be with others; the prospect of spending a quiet afternoon alone wouldn't appeal to her the way it would to Abby.
"What will you do, then?" Abby said aloud, "since your best friend is busy for today?"
"I'm not sure," Sadie admitted. "I suppose I could stop by the tailor's and pick up some projects. I'm due back tomorrow, but there are always little odds and ends to work on. Some of the girls in class were talking about going to see a show this afternoon, too, so there's that."
She didn't sound particularly enthusiastic about either option, and Abby found herself asking with surprising candor, "Do you wish you had your own sweetheart to run off with?"
Her sister laughed, sounding a little shocked. "Abby! Whatever makes you think that?"
Abby shrugged. "Just wondering. You used to talk with Judith all the time about boys. Now you hardly ever mention them."
"Well…" Sadie brushed a few snowflakes off of her skirt. "There's a reason for that, as you well know."
"But hasn't it been a while?" Abby queried.
Her sister didn't answer right away, and for a moment the only sound that could be heard was the chatter of people passing by and the crunch of the snow beneath their feet.
"I don't think those kinds of things really ever go away, Abby," Sadie finally said. "Sometimes our choices have lasting consequences that we didn't foresee, and we have to simply learn to live with them." She paused, then added, "That's why I'm glad you take after Judith. You're smart and sensible, and you'll make something of your life, I know it. You won't make the kinds of mistakes I have."
A smile crossed her face, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"At any rate, it's far better that I incline my time and thoughts towards something useful, rather than daydreaming about boys," Sadie continued briskly. "There are far too many important things to - "
"Mornin', ladies!" a newsboy broke in, drawing near as he held up a copy of The World. "You interested in readin' the latest headlines? We got some real good stories today!"
Abby saw her sister hesitate, and the newsboy must have seen her flicker of uncertainty, too, for he immediately pressed his case.
"Fact is, Miss, I could really use the dough right now," he added, his tone changing from jovial to somber. "I got a bunch of pals who came down with the flu, and they can't sell or pay their lodgin' house fees if they don't work. A couple of us who ain't sick is tryin' to move some extra papes to help 'em." He gave Sadie an imploring look. "If you can spare the cash, we'd all be real obliged to ya."
Sadie reached into her purse, and Abby watched as her sister handed the newsboy a penny, telling him to keep the paper before bidding him good day and then continuing down the street.
"You might've just gotten swindled," Abby remarked, hurrying to catch up. "You know the newsboys like to make up sob stories and will say anything they have to to make a sale."
"Perhaps," Sadie agreed. "But do you remember what Davey said earlier this week about the flu cases at the lodging house where his friends live? That newsboy was selling The World, and his story seemed to match up."
She appeared to be deep in thought, and they walked the next half block in silence until Sadie said suddenly, "Abby, would you mind if we stopped by the grocer's on our way home?" The sadness that had been in her voice only moments ago was gone, and she sounded even a bit cheerful as she added, "I think I know how I'll be spending my day now, but I need to pick up a few things, first."
"Extra, extra, 'Holiday Travel Slowed by Unexpected Storms! Blizzard Conditions a Possibility in Upcoming Weeks!'"
A man in a bowler hat and a warm-looking overcoat flagged Davey down from across the street, and Davey hurried over to give him his last copy of The World. He was rewarded with the usual penny for his troubles, and, after thanking the man and tucking the coin away, he set off down the street in the direction of his family's tenement, eager to get out of the cold. It was late in the afternoon, and twilight had not yet fallen, but the air was beginning to get chilly, and he was looking forward to returning to the relative warmth of the indoors.
Despite the fact that he, like the other healthy newsies, had taken extra papers that day, he'd still managed to finish selling them all in good time. There did seem to be fewer newsboys on the streets, so maybe the Manhattan lodging house wasn't the only one being hit by the flu, which, while unfortunate, meant more customers for those who were still well enough to sell. Thankfully the heavy snowfall from the night before had not returned, leaving conditions mild enough for people to be out and about, so that too had been a welcome boon.
Davey had already given a portion of his earnings to Tucker to take back to the lodging house, wanting to do his part to help the ailing newsies, but it still felt like it wasn't enough. Unfortunately, his family needed the money too, and as much as Davey would have liked to give more generously, he knew he needed to be prudent. The money always seemed to go quicker than expected.
Walking the last few blocks of Leonard, Davey was about to turn onto Baxter when a familiar figure on the other side of the street caught his eye, struggling through the snow as she pulled a child's red wagon behind her.
It was a rather incongruous sight…but he would have recognized her anywhere.
"Sadie!" he called out, waiting for a break in the traffic before jogging across the street to meet her. "Where are you off to?"
The landlord's daughter smiled as he drew near, her cheeks slightly flushed with the exertion of pulling her load over the uneven sidewalk.
"Hello, Davey," she said brightly. "I'm off to the newsboy lodging house, actually. I had an unexpected windfall of free time today, and thought I might as well make the most of it. You'd mentioned that getting enough food to eat was a concern for your friends who were recovering from the flu, so I made a big pot of soup and put it in crocks and borrowed the Kogan twins' wagon to drop everything off in time for dinner." She blew a strand of hair out of her face before continuing, "But, I confess, I'd completely forgotten about the snow! I didn't expect the streets to be so uneven, and it's been slower going than I expected. I'm sure I'm quite an absurd-looking sight, but I'm determined to make it to my destination, even if it takes me all night to get there."
"Why didn't you tell me, Chare?" he admonished. "I could have helped you."
"I didn't want to take you away from selling," she answered simply. "And besides, I know my way to the lodging house; I ran into Race once on my way home from work, and he pointed the place out to me. It's not that far from the tailor's."
The casual disclosure made Davey cringe a little as he recalled how he'd stubbornly opposed Race's suggestion that he walk Sadie home from work the night he'd been staying at the lodging house. Of course, Sadie didn't know about the incident, and it had happened over a month ago, but that didn't make him feel any less guilty.
"I don't want to hold you up any longer," Sadie continued, "and I probably ought to be on my way, considering that I still have several blocks to go, but it was a pleasant surprise to see you, Davey." She smiled and was about to resume pulling her load down the street, but he reached down to take the handle of the wagon from her.
"Here, let me help you," he offered. "I'm done selling for today."
She gave him an amused look. "That's very kind of you, but you're apt to look even more ridiculous than me pulling a child's wagon. You're much too tall for it."
"It wouldn't be the first time I've looked ridiculous." Davey gave the wagon a tug, realizing almost immediately why Sadie was having so much trouble and why such a slow pace was warranted. The snow, trampled by a day's worth of foot traffic, was uneven, and the wagon seemed to wobble precariously every time it hit a rise or a rut.
"How many crocks do you have in there?" he asked, examining the blanked-covered load and wondering if there was a way to lighten it so that the bumps wouldn't jostle the wagon so much.
"Four large ones," she answered.
"What if I carry two of them, and you pull the other two in the wagon?" he suggested. "That might make the going a little faster."
The landlord's daughter agreed, and they stopped for a moment to redistribute their cargo.
"Much better," Sadie declared as they set off again, still cautiously, but at a slightly more respectable pace. "Leave it to you to come up with a sensible solution to the problem!"
"It's a win for me, too," Davey admitted. "Carrying these crocks is like having a pair of bed warmers next to my coat. I might have to do this more often."
"You're not particularly fond of this refreshing winter air?" she teased.
"No, not at all. If it was up to me, we'd only have three seasons, and I'd never see snow again."
Sadie laughed. "That's a rather strong statement, Davey! Are you sure you wouldn't miss the snow, not even a little bit?"
"What's there to miss about it?" he queried. "It's cold and wet and inconvenient."
"But it's beautiful, and you can play so many fun games in the snow!"
"If you're the kind that likes to play games, I suppose."
His grudging concession earned a gasp from the landlord's daughter. "You mean to tell me that Davey Jacobs doesn't like to play games?"
He gave her a wry glance. "Are you really surprised by that, Chare?"
"I always supposed that you didn't play often because you were so busy working," she answered, looking thoughtful for a moment. "I never imagined that it was because you…" she trailed off, clearly having a difficult time wrapping her mind around the concept. After only a minute of pensiveness, though, she perked up and declared brightly, "I think you just haven't had the opportunity to play the right kinds of games with the right kinds of people, Davey. I'm sure that if you had the chance, you'd have just as much fun as anyone else."
He shrugged. "Maybe."
"You don't sound convinced."
He wasn't really sure how to explain his perspective to her, especially not when she was clearly of the mindset that games were lighthearted, simple diversions rather than slightly-daunting challenges that occasionally didn't end well.
"I guess when you're the perpetual new kid who's shy and has trouble making friends, games don't always lend themselves easily to enjoyment," he said finally, giving her a slight smile. "But if I had even half of your charisma, I'm sure I'd find them more agreeable."
He saw her face fall a little at his answer.
"I'm sorry if I was insensitive just now," she murmured. "You are correct in pointing out that I did not account for differences in temperament and experience when I was making my claim." She looked up at him. "But I do think that play is important, even if the expression of it is different for each person. And I hope that you'll have more opportunities for it in the future...whatever that might look like."
"You weren't being insensitive," he reassured her. "And you're right. I probably should play more - to give myself a chance to revise my ambivalent assessment, if nothing else."
They came to a busier stretch of sidewalk then where the foot traffic necessitated walking single file, and the conversation stalled for a moment as they made their way down Broadway towards the street that would lead to the newsboy lodging house, but after a few blocks of walking this way, the congestion cleared, Davey drew even with Sadie once again.
"What's your favorite game to play in the snow?" he inquired. "Maybe you can educate me on the merits of cold weather pastimes and tell me what I've been missing."
"Well, they're the kinds of diversions that you need to experience yourself in order to enjoy properly," she began, "...but I'd have to say that I'm partial to snowball fights. They're not particularly ladylike, and I suppose I'm a bit too old for them, but they're great fun."
"Les would definitely agree with you on that last part. He used to spend hours outside trying to clobber his friends. I wouldn't be surprised if that's what he's doing right now, actually. My parents gave him permission to go home with his friend Martin after school."
"He mentioned as much," Sadie confirmed. "We were actually dismissed from school for the day on account of Mr. Crowell coming down with the flu, and Les told us he was going home with Martin."
"Hopefully he's behaving himself," Davey sighed. "That's a lot of free time for him to get into mischief."
"He certainly has a way of making life interesting," Sadie agreed. "My sister, on the other hand, spent the entire afternoon by the fire in her favorite armchair with a stack of books and a cup of hot chocolate. She hardly stirred for hours."
"Now that sounds like a well-spent day off," Davey remarked. He adjusted his grip on the crocks, giving Sadie a slightly-sympathetic smile. "And you spent your day in the kitchen making soup."
"It wasn't disagreeable," she shrugged. "Just time-consuming. Fortunately the grocer's had all of the ingredients that I needed in stock, and I had a little extra money left over from some projects I finished for Mr. Gorham which more than covered the cost. I've been meaning to make a big pot of this anyway, as my nephews have been asking for it, and I promised to cook them a batch while they were in town. The timing worked out perfectly."
They chatted easily for the next few blocks as they made their way to the lodging house, all of the crocks thankfully arriving without any upsets or spills.
"Let me run inside and see if I can find Race," Davey offered, setting the containers he'd been carrying back into the wagon. "If a lot of the newsies are sick, it's probably better we don't linger for too long." Sadie agreed, and he quickly ducked inside, promising to be back as soon as he could.
Kloppman wasn't at his desk, so Davey bypassed the reception counter and made his way up the stairs two at a time, slowing down a bit as he neared the threshold so that the sound of his approach wouldn't wake any of the newsies who might be sleeping. When he peeked into the bunk room, he saw that Race was standing nearby, leaning against his bunk as he conversed quietly with Henry. Most of the other boys seemed to be either resting or lounging about in their beds. It was the quietest that Davey had ever seen them, and the unusual sight only underscored the gravity of the situation.
Tapping as lightly as he could on the open door, Davey flagged down Race, who came over to meet him in the hallway.
"What'cha doin' here, Dave?" he asked, his voice sounding strained even as a tired half-grin stretched across his face. "You worry about us so much you had'ta come all the way down here to see how we's farin'?"
"Sadie made some soup for the boys," Davey explained. "Do you think we could leave it with you? I'm not sure how you'd want to go about serving it or if the newsies are even hungry right now, but at least this way there'll be a little extra food to go around whenever you all want to eat."
Race's smile grew, and he let out a little chuckle. "That brunette half-pint's got impeccable timin'," he declared. "Me and Henry was just talkin' about maybe havin' to split meals soon on account of the Fund runnin' low. This'll give us a little more time before goin' halfsies." He glanced back over his shoulder. "I'll get Henry to help, and we'll meet you and Beck downstairs in a minute." So saying, he turned and disappeared back into the bunk room.
As Davey made his way downstairs to rejoin Sadie, Race returned to Henry, who was waiting for him with a curious look on his face.
"Gonna need your help downstairs," Race beckoned. "We got a special delivery."
"Special delivery? Of what?"
"Food," Race grinned. "Come on, let's go!"
The two of them made their way down the stairs and out to the front of the lodging house where Davey and Sadie were standing next to a little red wagon that held several containers, presumably what the soup had been stored in.
"Heya, Beck!" Race called out, flashing a smile. "Nice of you to drop by!"
Next to him, Henry made a sound of surprise. "You's the gal who gave me back my pape this mornin'!" he exclaimed. "Didn't think I'd be seein' you again so soon."
As he and Sadie exchanged introductions, Race knelt down next to the wagon, hefting one of the crocks experimentally before curiously unscrewing the lid to peek inside. A bit of steam curled into the air as a savory smell wafted up from the opening, and he inhaled appreciatively.
Securing the lid, he got to his feet, giving Sadie a grateful nod. "You's an angel, Beck," he declared. "This is gonna fill some hungry bellies tonight, and the soup'll be real good for the fellas who're havin' a harder time keepin' things down. We're all obliged to ya."
"You might want to try it first before you thank me, Race," she joked. "My attempts in the kitchen are well-intentioned, but my record of success is rather spotty."
"She's being too hard on herself," Davey interjected. "I can vouch for that." Sadie gave him a surprised look, and he added, "In fact...I'm a little jealous that I don't get to try any of this soup. It smells delicious."
"Well, perhaps that can be arranged," she answered easily. "I ought to do something to thank you for helping me with my spontaneous errand."
"It was no trouble," he insisted. "Really."
Race watched as the two of them shared a smile, the softness in Davey's expression lingering even after Sadie had turned away to begin giving instructions about the crocks of soup.
Looks like someone's got it bad, Race thought to himself in amusement. Leaving Henry to attend to the details of Sadie's directions, he sauntered over to give his friend a nudge with his elbow.
"Hey," he said quietly. "Thanks for bringin' all this over. It'll really help."
"Oh - yeah, sure," Davey shook his head a little, as though he was trying to clear it. "I didn't do anything, really. I'd just mentioned the boys' condition to Sadie the other night at tutoring, that's all. She did this on her own initiative."
"She seems like a good one," Race remarked.
"She is."
Race allowed himself to grin at the warmth in the other boy's voice, but Davey didn't even notice, his attention having drifted again to watching Sadie as she spoke.
Given the fact that they'd been through the highs and lows of a strike, the joy of a victory over Pulitzer, and the unpleasantness of a rather terse misunderstanding together, Race had previously assumed that he'd observed almost every emotion that Davey was capable of expressing...but he'd never seen him look the way that he did now.
As if suddenly realizing that he was being a poor conversationalist, the newsie in question turned his attention back to Race, giving him an apologetic half-smile.
"Sorry, I was just distracted there for a minute," he said. "I've been meaning to ask how you've been holding up, Race, especially with Jack being gone and you stepping up to manage the lodging house. Has it been all right?"
Race grinned. "Yeah," he said, finding himself surprised at the answer. "It's been real tirin', and sometimes I ain't sure if Jacky would've run things the way I have the past few days, but we's gettin' by, and the lodgin' house ain't burned down yet."
"That's good to hear," Davey said approvingly. "I'm not surprised that you're handling things well after seeing you lead the boys during the strike, but I'm glad that it hasn't been as hard on you this time around. And Tucker told me that Crutchie's starting to feel better, so that's really good news. Hopefully he'll make a full recovery soon, and he and Jack will be able to come back to the lodging house."
Race nodded. Even though Jack hadn't been selling ever since he'd temporarily moved out of the lodging house with Crutchie, he'd kept in contact, often dropping by in the mornings at the circulation gate to give the newsies an update on how things had been going and to shoot the breeze. It seemed that the good care and good food Crutchie had been receiving from Jack and Katherine had kept his flu symptoms from progressing to anything too serious, and Race was glad that the instinct to send him somewhere safer than the lodging house seemed to have paid off.
Before he could say anything more to Davey, Henry approached, his arms already full with two crocks of soup. "You think you can get the rest, Racer, so we can send these two on their way?" he asked.
Race nodded. "We'll go straight to the dinin' hall." He walked over to pick up the remaining two crocks, then turned to give Sadie and Davey one more appreciative look. "Thanks again," he grinned. "You'd better get outta here before it gets too cold - sun's startin' to go down already."
"See you tomorrow, Race, Henry," Davey nodded.
"It was nice to see you again, Race, and a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Henry," Sadie added. "I'll stop by sometime later this week to pick up the crocks."
Race waved her off. "The boys and I can bring 'em back to the tenement - I'm sure Dave knows where to leave 'em. Least we can do when you's goin' through the trouble to feed us." So saying, he bid the visitors farewell, then followed Henry into the lodging house. The dining hall was quiet, the dinner preparations not having begun yet, so they set the crocks down on one of the empty tables and left a note at Kloppman's desk on their way back to the bunk room explaining the situation.
"Sure am lookin' forward to a little extra somthin' to eat tonight," Henry remarked as they began to climb the stairs. "My stomach was growlin' terrible last night."
Race nodded, completely concurring but also keen to shift the topic of conversation. "Hey, not to change the subject," he said aloud, "but I haf'ta know - was you seein' what I was seein' out there just a moment ago?"
"What, the nice gal with the wagon full of soup?" the other newsie chuckled. "Or the clearly smitten fella she had taggin' along with her?"
Race grinned, pleased that his friend had made the same observation that he had. "See, I told'ja," he declared. "Didn't I say he'd be wrapped around her little finger by Christmas?"
"You called it right, Racer. I gotta hand it to ya."
"Well, Davey ain't too hard to figure out," Race opined. "Most folks is easy enough to read, and he's worse at hidin' things than the average fella."
"I'll say!" Henry laughed. "Bet'cha even Bella II could've seen that he was charmed all to pieces. It ain't so much what he was sayin' as the way he was lookin' at her like she was the sweetest thing he'd ever laid eyes on."
Race nodded in agreement, but privately he thought that the irony of the whole situation was that, as obvious as Davey's infatuation was to everyone else, Davey himself was probably still oblivious to his own feelings (or at least unaware of how clearly he was projecting them). He had always been slightly guarded about his personal life and thoughts, and if his previously defensive reaction to Race's mild teasing was anything to go by, he would likely be mortified if he knew that his admiration for Sadie was written so clearly on his face.
Race briefly considered mentioning it to him the next time they crossed paths, but quickly dismissed the idea, partially because he found the notion of Davey with his head in the clouds amusing, and partially because he knew that the other boy had enough to worry about already. There was really nothing wrong with being bewitched by a pretty girl, after all, and Davey had looked happy, so Race was just as happy to leave him be.
"You got a hunch as to when he actually asks her to be his gal?" Henry queried. "Maybe sometime before the year's out?"
Race snort-laughed. "We's talkin' about Davey. That sucker ain't gonna drum up the courage to say a thing to her for at least another few months, or I ain't a Higgins."
"Seems like an awfully long time," Henry remarked skeptically, "but I ain't gonna question you on that. You was right last time, and we all know you's real lucky."
"Been wrong before," Race shrugged, "but I got a feelin' about this one." He grinned. "Guess we'll just haf'ta see if I can go two for two."
A/N: Think Racetrack will be able to preserve his winning record, or will this be one of those "nobody told the horse" instances? I'd love to hear your thoughts! One more chapter of the fluffy stuff if you can stand it, :) and then we will be back to our regularly scheduled seriosity.
Thanks as always for sticking with this story, gracious readers. I'm sorry that updates have continued to be slower than usual. I was hoping to finish some one shots for Interstices and get back into the flow of regular writing, but I've been struggling with a lingering creative fatigue and haven't been able to find my stride yet. :( :( :( Really hoping to be able to shake this off soon...
