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


Chapter 111: Closing Doors

The lodging house where Sophie lived was a rectangular two-story building with a dilapidated facade painted a drab shade of green. The fact that it was located in a rundown part of town made its appearance less of an eyesore, but even so, the Duane Street lodging house was practically a palace by comparison.

Race fiddled with his unlit cigar, twiddling the roll of tobacco between his fingers as he debated whether or not to have a smoke. If Sophie was on her usual work schedule, she'd likely show up soon, but if, for whatever reason, she'd been delayed, he could be in for a long wait.

Deciding not to chance it, he stowed the cigar away in his pocket and idly perused the names that had been scratched in the peeling paint on the side of the lodging house, strolling down the sidewalk as he did so. His newsboy bag hung at his side, emptied of its morning allotment of papers which he'd sold on his way over. Once across the Bridge, he'd even peddled several copies of The World in Brooklyn territory simply because he could, half-curious to see if any recently-initiated newsies from the Poplar Street lodging house would try to step in and stop him. It happened occasionally, and Race always enjoyed taking such self-important novices down a peg when he revealed to them who he was, though he tried not to be too supercilious about it, knowing that Spot wouldn't appreciate the self-indulgent humor at his boys' expense.

No one had challenged him that day, though, and the trip to Sophie's lodging house had been straightforward enough.

Now, he just had to wait.

He'd promised his sister that he would pay her a follow up visit before the end of the month to see if she would be willing to accept his offer to move to Manhattan once her job at the factory ended. The weeks had passed by quickly due in no small part to the flu outbreak at the lodging house (which was now thankfully near-resolved) and before Race had even had time to catch his breath, the end of the month was upon him.

He'd purposefully maintained an optimistic outlook on the situation, hoping that his sister would finally capitulate now that one of the last ties holding her in Brooklyn was dissolving, but inside he knew that the fight was far from over. His sister was a Higgins, and that meant that she was stubborn and that she kept her own council on things, familial advice notwithstanding. It was just as likely that she'd dig in her heels as it was that she'd acquiesce, but Race was ready to push for the latter as hard as he possibly could.

Deciding that he really did need a smoke, he pulled out his cigar and lit it, slowly drawing the fumes into his mouth before releasing them and feeling the tension in his gut uncoil as he did so. He could practically see Jack's disapproving frown, but this was why he didn't often smoke in the lodging house or around the newsie leader. His penchant for cigars was a well-known indulgence, but he reserved the occasional moments of gratification for times when he wouldn't be bothered by those who objected to the habit.

A quarter of an hour passed by, Race enjoying a leisurely smoke as he watched people pass by on the street, his eyes peeled for any sign of his sister. Soon, the first of the tea factory workers appeared, coming down the street towards the lodging house. Race extinguished his cigar and returned it to his pocket, perusing the faces of the girls who were filing past. He saw a few who looked familiar, but there was no sign of Sophie.

Stepping closer to the lodging house entrance, he flagged down one of its occupants, a wiry blonde-haired girl whom he was pretty sure he'd seen in his sister's company before.

"Hey, sorry to bother you," he began, "but I'm lookin' for my sister Sophie. She works at the factory and usually gets off around this time. You happen to see her?"

The girl considered him warily for a moment before she said tersely, "Sophie don't live here anymore. She moved out a week ago."

"Moved out?" Race gawked at her. "You serious?"

"A woman came to take her home; sounded like she was Sophie's ma or somethin'.

He felt his jaw clench reflexively. "Did you hear where they was goin'?"

The girl shook her head. "It was all real sudden. Most of us didn't even get to say goodbye."

Race forced out some words of thanks, then abruptly turned away and headed down the street, cursing under his breath. He hadn't expected a hang up like this. He wasn't sure if a successful outcome was even possible at this point, especially since he had no idea where his mother was living now. But he'd come all the way here ready to leave everything on the table, and there was no way he was going to give up, even if it meant going on a wild…

...goose chase.

On a whim, Race changed course, jogging across the street and turning his footsteps in the direction of Prospect Park. The possibility of finding Sophie there was slim, but Race was the kind of boy who believed in luck, and maybe good fortune would smile on him today when he needed it most. The thought of a goose chase and geese - the latter of which had come up in his most recent conversation with his sister - must have emerged from somewhere, and maybe it was luck giving him a little nudge in the right direction. At any rate, he had no other ideas, so it couldn't hurt to try.

The walk to the park took less than half an hour, and soon Race was passing under one of the grand archways that graced the park's many entrances. The last decade and its government-initiated urban planning reforms had brought about a substantial amount of change, and the place was now more well-kept than he remembered it. Previously-crumbling pathways had been smoothed out and flanked by stone fencing, which had replaced the wooden barriers that Race remembered circumventing often enough in many a childhood game of tag. Several imposing-looking structures - the purpose of which he could only guess at - had been erected at various points throughout the park, and even the lake that Sophie liked to frequent (and where she regularly got into squabbles with the strongly-detested geese) looked more manicured somehow.

Trudging in the direction of the water, Race shaded his eyes from the glare of the mid-afternoon sun. There were only a few clouds in the sky, but he'd heard that the weather service was predicting snow in the coming days, and he wondered if the lake still froze over in the wintertime the way it had when he and Sophie had been youngsters and had often slogged through the snow to the edge of the ice to watch the skaters glide and slip on its frosty surface.

Today, however, the lake was fluid, and there were several picnicking parties clustered around its edge, eating and playing and feeding the waterfowl. Race skirted the shoreline, searching for Sophie, but after a thorough investigation, he concluded that his sister was not in the vicinity.

Heading in the opposite direction from which he'd come, he made his way towards the border of the park, already mulling over where he should look next. He was so absorbed in his thoughts, that he didn't notice an approaching pedestrian step directly into his path, blocking the way with his arms folded, until he'd nearly run into him.

"Hey, what's the big - " Race began before looking up and finding himself face-to-face with Spot Conlon.

The Brooklyn leader smiled his wolfish grin. "You was sayin', Tony?"

"Sorry," Race muttered. "Wasn't expectin' you." He gave Spot a questioning look. "So…why the visit? One of your boys report me for sellin' papes on the wrong side of the Bridge?"

"My birds told me you was lookin' for Sophie," Spot answered, ignoring the halfhearted attempt at a joke. "Thought you might be interested in hearin' what we know."

It was a testament to their history that the Brooklyn leader was freely offering up the findings of his intelligence network, and Race knew it for the boon that it was. The possibility of appealing to Spot for help hadn't crossed his mind, but now that he thought about it, it was likely his best bet.

"I'd be grateful to ya," he admitted. "I ain't got the foggiest idea of where to look."

"We's actually lucky to have any kinda lead," Spot disclosed. "Just happened to have a bird patrollin' near Sophie's lodging house the day she moved out. There usually ain't much goin' on in that part of town, but we look around every once in a while, and it just so happened that Eggy was the one runnin' sweeps that mornin'."

Race nodded; he'd sold with the aforementioned Brooklyn boy on occasion back in the day.

"There was an incident at the lodgin' house involvin' a superintendent and a woman who came to the door claimin' her daughter was livin' there, even though she had a home and family. Cited the lodgin' house rules about the bunks bein' reserved for orphans and kids who ain't got a place to go, and said her daughter had no reason to be stayin' there. Eggy said she was yellin' so loud he could hear her from his perch across the street. Guess the superintendent eventually gave in and told the girl to pack up her things. She left with the woman, and Eggy said he didn't get a real good look, but he was pretty sure it was your sister."

"Any idea where they headed?" Race asked tersely.

"Come on," Spot beckoned. "I'll show ya. It'll be quicker that way."

They left the park behind, Spot leading the way and setting a brisk pace. After taking several turns down a number of side streets and alleyways, they arrived at a tumbled-down-looking tenement sitting at the rear of a dead end street.

"This the place?"

Spot nodded. "I ain't gonna be able to get'cha much further than that. My boys didn't follow them inside, so you's on your own from here."

Race spat in his hand and offered it to the Brooklyn leader. "Thanks," he said simply. "I owe ya."

"Good luck," Spot answered, completing the handshake. "You's gonna need it." So saying, he turned on his heel and left, disappearing around the corner.

Race rolled his neck, trying to loosen the tension there as he sized up the dilapidated apartment building. Judging by the windows, there were about twenty units that made up the tenement, and while knocking on twenty different doors wasn't an impossible task, it wasn't a particularly appealing one, either.

Time was wasting, though, and he might as well get started.

No one answered his knock at the first three apartments, but on the fourth one, he got lucky. A woman with a work-worn face and a child on her hip answered, listening wearily as Race explained the reason for his intrusion.

"Pretty sure the woman you's talkin' about lives upstairs," she said. "She's been bummin' here for about a month or so with the fella who owns the apartment, and I've been hearin' 'em argue all week over some girl that she just brought in to stay with 'em."

Race nodded. The arguing part sounded about right, though he wasn't sure who the unidentified man who owned the apartment was.

"Watch yourself if you go up there," the woman warned. "They don't sound like very nice folks."

"Thanks." Race gave her a little nod, then made his way down the hallway and up the stairs, his apprehension growing as he neared the end of the hallway. Picking a door, he squared his shoulders and knocked, preparing himself for whomever might answer.

Luck, it seemed, had stuck with him: at first, there was no sound from within the apartment, but then hurried footsteps sounded from behind the door, which soon cracked open, revealing a familiar face.

"Tony!" Sophie exclaimed, opening the door wider. "What're you doin' here?"

"Tryin' to track down my missin' sister," he grunted, allowing his frustration to show now that he'd found her. "Didn't think she'd go runnin' off within sayin' anything to anyone."

Sophie's face fell. "I wasn't tryin' to run off, Tony," she said softly. "It's just when Ma showed up at the lodgin' house makin' a scene and carryin' on, I didn't want to cause any more trouble. She said she had a place for me to stay, and that I oughta come live with her, 'cause once my job at the factory ended, I wouldn't have a way of payin' my fees." Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. "I didn't know what else to do."

"I know," Race conceded. "It weren't your fault; you didn't have no one to turn to, and Ma's real persuasive when she wants to be." He sighed. "Wish I could've been there to step in, though. Movin' back in with Ma ain't your only option, ya know?"

Catching his meaning, his sister's expression flickered. "I can't leave now, Tony," she said hollowly. "I got obligations that I haf'ta - "

"Obligations to who?" Race cut in. "To Ma? Obligations to let her nab every last penny you make so she can pour it into her bottle while she keeps you here under her thumb to make you feel like you owe her somethin'?"

His sister dropped her gaze. "Franklin said he'd find me another job," she faltered.

Race scoffed. "Oh yeah, that bummer's real good at keepin' his promises." He wasn't at all surprised that his mother had gotten back together with her cad of a boyfriend, but if Franklin was the one who was renting the place, it was even more imperative that Sophie get out.

"Look, Soph," he said earnestly, "I know you still thinks you's beholden to Ma and that you don't wanna disappoint her, but you haf'ta cut ties. As long as you's proppin' up her habit by givin' her money, she ain't gonna get any better, and she's just gonna drag you down with her. 'Sides, Franklin ain't the kinda fella you oughta be hangin' around; you know how he and Ma gets when they's had too much to drink. I ain't gonna sleep easy knowin' you's here alone with them."

"I can't leave," Sophie insisted, and Race could see the desperation written all over her face. "They's gonna be real angry with me if I skip out - Ma already told me if I ever run away, she's never speakin' to me again."

Sure wish that was a promise we could count on, Race thought bitterly to himself, but for his sister's sake, he held back the barb.

"I shouldn't even be talkin' to you right now," Sophie added, a bit of fear leaking into her voice. "They went out to get some groceries, but they's gonna be back any minute, and if they find out I was talkin' to you, it's gonna mean trouble. Ma ain't so bad - she only yells when she's angry - but Franklin…" she trailed off, her expression shuttering even as the words remained unspoken.

"You should go," she said quickly. "I'm sorry, Tony, but I can't go back to Manhattan with you."

She began to shut the door.

Race was caught unprepared for the abrupt dismissal. "Soph, wait! Don't - "

"I'm sorry," she whispered. And before he could stop her or say anything more, she shut the door, and he heard the sound of the lock being drawn on the other side.

Undeterred, Race pounded on the wooden barrier. "Sophie, open up!" he demanded. "Open up, ya hear? I ain't done talkin' to ya!"

"Please go," he heard her voice on the other side. "If they catch you, I'm the one who's gonna pay for it."

"That ain't no kinda way to live!" he insisted. "They's gonna break you one way or another - if not today, then tomorrow. That's why you haf'ta leave!"

He placed his curled-up fist on the door, wishing that he could just smash through it.

"Come with me," he pleaded instead, "and you won't haf'ta worry 'bout them no more. I promise, Soph, I'll take good care of you; I'll find you a job and a nice place to stay, and I'll visit you every day. It'll be just like old times, 'cept better, 'cause now we won't have anyone tyin' us down!"

His voice cracked, and he stopped for a moment to gather himself before adding, "It's all Manhattan's missin' for me - just my little sister. I been waitin' for you to join me all these years, hopin' you'd agree to cross the Bridge one day so we could be together again and I wouldn't haf'ta worry about'cha."

Opening his hand, he pressed his fingers to the door.

"Don't make me keep waitin', Soph," he begged. "Come back to Manhattan with me. Today."

He could hear her crying softly on the other side of the door.

"I can't," she whimpered, and at the two simple, anguished words, despair flooded through him. "I can't, Tony," she repeated. "Please...just go away. Don't make this harder for me than it already is."

He heard the muffled sound of her choking back a sob, then the soft pattering of her footsteps hurrying away into the apartment...and after that it was completely silent.

Race stood there for a moment more.

Then he slowly lowered his hand from the door, and turned to walk down the hallway, making his way out of the tenement and down to the street.

He headed straight for Manhattan without looking back.


A/N: Just another episode in the ongoing saga of Nobody Gets a Break Ever. Thanks for hanging in there; I'd love to hear your thoughts on this installment if you have a moment to share - your reviews mean a lot to me, even if they're just a word or two!