Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.
A/N: Thank you once again for your patience in waiting for an update (special thanks to the guest reviewer/reader who told me that they check for an update almost every night - I am sorry that you've been having to wait so long lately!). On to our chapter...
Chapter 121: Safe Haven
The worst part about insomnia, Race maintained, was that it had all the predictability of a roulette wheel. One night he could drop off to sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, while the next night he would toss and turn, unable to find repose until the wee hours of the morning. There was precious little rhyme or reason to it, which meant that a fellow never knew when he'd be afflicted with a bout of the most confoundingly simple yet inescapably frustrating affliction known to man (at least in his opinion).
Occasionally, there were reasonable explanations for his restlessness: sometimes it was the blaring of the fire sirens shattering the relative calm of the night. Other times it was an especially strong feeling - excitement, apprehension, or anger - that made sleep elusive. On very rare occasions, it was simply the myriad of sounds filtering through the lodging house on any given night: the creak of the edifice settling, the occasional voices of people passing by on the street, the various iterations of snoring, courtesy of the newsies slumbering in their beds...
Tonight, though, the culprit was an uncanny sense of premonition. And this was new for Race.
He wasn't a particularly religious, superstitious, or even clairvoyant kind of fellow - he had a knack for reading others, but that canniness didn't extend to predicting the future (if it did, his record at the track would be far better than it was), and he was more apt to live in the moment than conjecture about what was to come…
But tonight, the feeling of foreboding was hard to shake.
Irritably, Race sat up in bed, rolling his stiff neck and rubbing his face. His body was weary, for it had been a long day of selling, and his thoughts were already dulled due to the lateness of the hour, but the misgiving hovered at the back of his mind, and he wondered if he might as well cut his losses and sneak outside to have a smoke. It would be more calming than lying in bed and growing uneasier by the minute.
Making his decision, he quietly rose, careful not to wake his sleeping bunkmates. After procuring his cigar and a pack of matches, he stole out of the room, familiar enough even in the dim lighting with the various obstacles that could trip him up: Albert's shoes, haphazardly left out in the middle of the walkway, one of the many under-stuffed pillows that Romeo made a habit of sleeping with (and then subsequently shoved out of bed in his sleep), even Bella II snuffling between the bed posts, scrounging for food.
Once he'd bypassed these potential hazards, Race made his way downstairs, quietly opening the door of the lodging house and propping it open, then slipping outside into the chilly night air. He was about to head for his usual smoking spot - a slightly recessed niche on the east side of the building that provided cover from the wind - when saw that someone was already there. And as Race warily drew closer, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, he felt his pulse quicken in dread.
Sophie was huddled in the little alcove, hunkered down with her back against the wall and her knees drawn up to her chest. Hidden in the shadows, she looked so still that he irrationally feared for a moment that all life had left her, but just as that horrible thought descended, he saw her head droop slightly before she reflexively lifted it up again, apparently in a fitful slumber.
Hurrying over, Race shoved his cigar and matches into his pocket, falling to his knees next to his sister's dozing form.
"Soph," he murmured, shaking her arm. "Soph, wake up."
Her eyes fluttered open and she started, her hands flying up in self-defense, but almost immediately after that she recognized him, and Race felt her fingers grasping his arms, holding on as though for dear life.
"Tony," she whispered shakily.
He could hear the tears in her voice and instinctively pulled her into a hug, dismayed when she gasped in pain as he did so. Loosening his hold, he regarded her worriedly, trying to ascertain what might be wrong despite his inability to see well in the dim light.
"Soph, what happened?" he demanded. "Why'd you come all the way here in the middle of the night?"
"I had to," she sniffled, dragging a ragged sleeve under her nose. "I couldn't stay, not with - "
A choked-up sob interrupted her sentence, and she dissolved fully into tears as Race, more gently this time, wrapped his arms around her, outwardly soothing but inwardly beginning to fume. His mind had already put two and two together, and he knew now why he'd been kept awake by that uncanny sense of foreboding.
It was probably the only time in his life he'd ever been thankful for his insomnia. If he hadn't been driven out of the lodging house by his restlessness, who knew how much longer Sophie would have had to wait there, huddled in that little alcove, shivering in the cold and aching from her injuries?
Wanting to make sure that his suppositions were sound, Race waited until Sophie's quiet sobbing had abated, then pulled back just slightly, examining her face. He still couldn't see well, but now that he knew what to look for, he could just make out the swelling around her eye and cheekbone and the ugly mark of a cut on her lower lip, and he found his anger flaring up even hotter.
This was why he'd been so concerned about leaving Sophie in Brooklyn in the first place. It was one thing for their ma to show up sporadically and siphon off her daughter's hard-earned money (for as infuriating as that was, at least while Sophie had lived at the lodging house, she'd been relatively protected and safe), but it was another thing altogether for that woman's louse of a boyfriend to raise a hand to Sophie while she was living under his roof. Race had seen Franklin's temper erupt on multiple occasions - he'd even been on the receiving end of it a few times - and he knew how volatile and dangerous it could be.
The fact that Sophie had made it all the way across the Brooklyn Bridge, scared and injured, and had found her way to Duane Street was nothing short of a miracle, for she'd never set foot in Manhattan and certainly hadn't visited the lodging house before. It also told Race how bad the situation back home must have been for his generally long-suffering little sister to be desperate enough to attempt the journey alone.
He wished that she hadn't come to join him under these circumstances...but at least she was here now, certainly much worse for wear, but all in one piece, and besides that, she was a Higgins. It would take more than a beating to keep her down.
"Let's get'cha inside," Race muttered, feeling Sophie shiver a little in his arms. Kloppman had a strict no girls policy, but Race wasn't going to leave his sister outside to catch cold. Helping her to her feet, he ushered her around the building and to the front door of the lodging house, where they crept inside, quiet as mice.
"We got an extra room upstairs," Race whispered as he beckoned for Sophie to follow him. "It's used for a sick bay, but there ain't nobody in there right now." They made their way up the stairs and down the hallway, stopping at a closed door which Race tentatively pushed open. Sure enough, the room was empty, and it looked like someone had cleaned it recently, for the bed was made up with unwrinkled sheets and the little end table in the corner was free of dust.
"You can sleep in this room tonight, Soph," Race said softly. "You's gonna have to be quiet, though, so no one finds out you's here. The fellas I bunk with are real nice - but we got a strict no girls policy, so it's better if most of 'em don't find out about'cha."
His sister nodded, gingerly sitting down upon the bed and looking exhausted.
"Is the washroom nearby?" she asked quietly. "I got some scrapes I'd like to clean out if that won't be too much of a problem."
"Yeah, there's one down at the end of the hall." The small privy was usually reserved for guests, so no one would be there at the moment. "You go wash up and do what you haf'ta - I'm gonna get a few things from the bunk room, and I'll meet'cha back here."
Giving Sophie a moment to tend to her injuries - for he knew from experience that she preferred to do so alone - Race made his way back to the bunk room, where he stealthily procured the first aid kit that Crutchie kept under his bed. He then went to his own locker at the back of the communal washroom and took some money out of the sock where he kept his surplus hidden, then tucked a small package of jerky into his pocket before closing up the locker and making his way towards the door. Hearing a familiar rustling sound beneath one of the bunkbeds as he passed, he gave a low whistle, and after a moment, Bella II peeked her head out.
Race quietly called to her, making the package in his pocket crinkle in incentive, and eventually the skunk trotted over, used to the maneuver and clearly expecting that the customary reward of a treat would follow her compliance. Race led her out of the bunk room and down the hall to the sick room where Sophie had already returned, pushing open the door to let Bella II amble in.
"Brought'cha a friend to keep you company, Soph," he announced. "This here is Bella." Reaching down, he picked up the skunk and set her on the bed. "She's active durin' the night, so she might wander out again to go lookin' for food, but I thought you might want to meet her at least." Pulling a piece of jerky out of his pocket, Race offered it to the skunk, who sniffed at it briefly before taking it in her teeth and dragging it off to the corner of the bed to eat in peace.
"You can pet her if you want," Race offered, seeing the hesitant look on his sister's face. "She's real docile most of the time as long as you don't make any sudden movements."
Sophie reached out to gently stroke Bella II's black and white fur, and Race was glad to see a small smile appear.
"I'll leave the rest of the jerky here for you in case you get hungry, Soph," he said, setting the package down on the end table. "Tomorrow I'll get'cha somethin' better to eat. And I brought over some first aid odds an' ends in case you want to use any of 'em. I'll haf'ta take them back once you's done, though, 'cause the boys might notice if the kit goes missin'."
His sister nodded, scooting over to rifle through the contents of the container, and Race took the opportunity to scrutinize her more closely. Sophie's movements and posture were stiff, and he'd noticed her wincing slightly as they'd made their way up the stairs earlier, so likely she was in pain, but she seemed to have at least some reserve of strength left, and that was a good sign. He knew that she was resilient - they'd both taken some hard hits before and had always gotten back up - but the unseen effects of the beating she'd taken and the distress of her spontaneous flight to Manhattan would likely show up slowly over the next several days once the surge of self-preservation had worn off. It would probably be better if she could lay low and rest for a few days instead of jumping immediately back into work.
Race absently rolled his neck, trying to ease away the tension. He had enough money socked away to cover the cost of food for Sophie, and could probably afford to swing her lodging house fees, too, but she couldn't stay with the newsies - it wasn't right to go behind Kloppman's back, not when the elderly superintendent had already done so much for Race and the other boys. An alternative housing situation would need to be arranged as soon as possible - preferably a safe and comfortable one that would allow Sophie to recover and that would help her to feel at ease in Manhattan, for Race was intent now upon keeping her close by, and he knew that, despite what his sister had suffered, familial ties were hard to break. If he could manage to convince Sophie that things really were better here, maybe she would finally be ready to leave their mother behind for good.
Sophie closed up the first aid kit, and Race received it back, stowing away his rumination for the time being.
"You gonna be okay here tonight, Soph?" he asked. "I wish I could stay with you, but if I ain't back in the bunk room, the fellas'll get suspicious."
Sophie nodded bravely. "I'll be quiet. Gotten pretty good at doin' that over the last few weeks."
It was probably meant for a humorous statement, but it fell flat.
"I'll come back and check on you while I'm out sellin' my papes," Race promised. "Should be pretty quiet around here during the day. Gonna see if I can find a better place for you to stay, too - there's a home for girls up by Washington Square Park, and some of the newsgirls I've run into live there, so maybe I'll check that out."
Sophie gave him a small smile. "Guess you's finally gonna get your chance to teach me how to hawk headlines, Tony," she remarked. "Can't say I'll be any good at it, but you's as expert a teacher as I'm gonna get, so here's hopin' I'll get the hang of it."
"You's a Higgins," Race reminded her. "You ain't gonna fail. But you don't haf'ta worry about workin' and all that now - just try an' get better, all right?"
After a few more words of admonishment (and a reminder to let Bella II out if she began to get restless), he reluctantly left, closing the door behind him. He made his way back to the bunk room, returned the first aid kit to its place, then quietly eased himself back into bed. The faintest streaks of morning light were already beginning to illuminate the windows, and he knew he wouldn't be getting a wink of sleep that night, but at least he'd managed to get his sister settled before anyone woke up.
It was Friday morning, which meant that he'd need to be on his toes if he wanted to take care of everything that needed to be done before the end of the day. The Elizabeth Home for Girls* wasn't too far away - Race estimated a half hour walk, tops - but the end of the business week often meant a slightly busier schedule (at least, that's what he'd observed from Kloppman's habits and rhythms), so it might be a little harder to get Sophie set up in her new lodgings if the staff was already busy.
No sense in worrying about that now, Race reminded himself, rolling over on his side. He belatedly remembered the cigar and matches in his pocket and ruefully fished them out to find both looking a little worse for wear. It was just that kind of night, he supposed - but certainly a small price to pay for having his sister safely in Manhattan after all these months.
Now all that remained was to figure out a way to convince her to stay.
Despite his prediction, Race managed to doze off for an hour or so before the morning wake up call sounded. It didn't do much to clear his head, but it did make his body feel a little more rested, and he rose from his bunk amidst the jostle of newsies with a grim determination even as he pasted on his usual morning smile, tossing Albert's shoes to the ginger-haired newsie with a quip and clapping a yawning Romeo on the back as the younger boy passed by. Presenting himself as a picture of high spirits when he was inwardly feeling far from cheerful was second nature, and he fell into it easily as he joined the rest of his bunk mates in the wash room to get ready for the day, even as concern for Sophie's situation continued to lurk at the back of his mind.
The walk to the distribution center and the purchasing of the day's allotment of papers passed by quickly enough, and thankfully, most of the boys were too eager to get to selling to notice Race's slight preoccupation. As soon as he'd parted ways with the rest of the newsies, he made his way north up Lafayette Street, heading in the direction of Washington Square Park. It wasn't unfamiliar territory to him; he'd sold in that area several times, and was familiar with the four story brick building on Twelfth Street that was his destination. He'd never been inside of The Elizabeth Home for Girls, but it seemed like a nice place, relatively new and well kept up, and most of the girls he'd run across who stayed there seemed like the decent sort, though he didn't know any of them well enough to say for sure.
If he could set Sophie up there, it would be an ideal situation; she'd be close by, would have other girls her own age to bunk with, and hopefully in time she'd come to like it, and any notion of returning to Brooklyn would fade. The prospect invigorated Race significantly, and he pushed through his weariness and quickened his pace, arriving at his destination much sooner than he expected and even managing to sell a good number of papers along the way.
At that point, however, his luck ran out.
His inquiry regarding vacancies at the Home was received graciously enough, but the superintendent regretfully informed him that there were currently no openings available. The winter cold, it seemed, had incited an influx of new occupants who had flocked to the establishment seeking shelter, and the dormitories were already full to capacity.
The news had shocked Race, for he'd never considered the possibility that such a simple hang up could derail his plans. It didn't help that, in contrast to the newsboys who had multiple options for lodging in the area, The Elizabeth Home for Girls was the only place of its kind nearby.
Thanking the superintendent, Race had made his way back to the streets, his mood heavily dampened by this recent news. He would need to start searching for other solutions as soon as possible, but didn't know where to begin, and in the meantime, there was also the problem of Sophie hiding out at the Duane Street lodging house under everyone's noses. If the possibility of discovery wasn't so pressing, he would have felt a lot better, but as it was, he needed to figure out a solution, and fast. Kloppman was a kind man, but he wouldn't take well to deception, and Race didn't want to lose his rapport with the superintendent or jeopardize his own status as a lodger in good standing if he didn't have to.
Morosely, he slowly made his way south, hiding his despondency under the veneer of a smooth-talking salesman as he directed his energy towards moving his papers. The rest of the morning passed by in this manner as he let himself wander the streets of Manhattan, hoping that something he ran across would spark an idea for what to do next.
He had just passed by Newsie Square when the sound of familiar voices reached his ear, and he looked up to see Davey and Sadie coming around the corner up ahead. They caught sight of him almost at the same time that he did, and walked over.
"Good afternoon, Race," Sadie greeted him as they drew near.
"Hey there, Beck, Davey," Race answered halfheartedly, unable to even muster up a smile. "You look like you's on your way somewhere."
"The new boys in the reading group wanted to meet Sadie," Davey explained. "She came to visit us on her lunch break, and I'm walking her back to school now before I get back to selling." The succinct explanation was accompanied by a concerned look and an abrupt change in subject as Davey added, "Are you all right, Race? You don't look like yourself."
It was a testament to Race's preoccupation that he didn't even try to smile or snark his way out of the question. The possibility briefly crossed his mind, but he found himself too weary at the moment to follow through with it.
"I got a lot on my mind right now," he confessed. Briefly, he filled the pair in on the situation with Sophie, beginning with the loss of her job at the end of the previous year and ending with a summary of the events that had transpired over the last several hours which had culminated in her arrival at the lodging house and the subsequent conundrum of finding a suitable place for her to stay. He didn't downplay the sordid details, not having the emotional reserve at the moment to be anything but frank, and though a part of him didn't relish laying bare the brokenness of his family, pretending that said brokenness didn't exist wouldn't change the facts. Davey already knew part of the story anyway, and though Race was sure that his friend wouldn't be able to relate to the ugly reality that he was divulging, he was also sure that Davey wouldn't dismiss it or think the less of him for it, and this was what kept the words coming even as he saw consternation growing on the other newsie's face.
By the time Race had finished, the two in front of him were noticeably dismayed; Davey's look had settled into a worried expression, and Sadie was biting her lip, clearly troubled by what she had just heard.
"You said that there aren't any openings at The Elizabeth Home for Girls?" Davey ventured, characteristically trying to address the logistical matters first. "Are there any other places that Sophie could temporarily stay at where she wouldn't have to be in hiding?"
Race shook his head. "Not that I know of - at least, not around here."
Before he could say anything further, a thoughtful look crossed Sadie's face, and she turned to Davey, touching him lightly on the arm to steady herself as she stood on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. If he'd been in better spirits, Race would have raised a teasing eyebrow at the slightly intimate gesture, but right now it barely even registered; he was in no mood to heckle at the moment.
Sadie finished speaking, and Davey nodded in response to her words, giving her a little smile. Whatever communication had passed between them had noticeably diminished his apprehension, and Race could see the line of his friend's shoulders relax as he quietly bid the petite brunette goodbye, a farewell which she returned and then repeated to Race before heading off down the street.
"She didn't want you to feel put on the spot," Davey explained, "but she asked me to tell you that if your sister needs lodging for a few days, she might be able to stay in a vacant apartment at our tenement. Sadie's sister's family was occupying the unit while they were in town, but they recently returned to Boston, and the new tenants won't be arriving until the beginning of February, so if that's agreeable to you, Sadie said she'll ask her father about it. There's no obligation to accept, of course, if you or your sister feel uncomfortable about it; it's not a perfect solution - "
"But it's a real generous one," Race interjected, his spirits lifting significantly at the unexpected offer. He was sure that Sophie would be slightly apprehensive about being alone in a strange place, but at least it wasn't far from the lodging house, and he'd be able to drop in to check on her easily. It would also mean that she'd be able to leave her room without fear of accidental discovery by Kloppman or the other boys, and that she'd be safely hidden away in the unlikely event that anyone from Brooklyn came looking for her.
Cracking a half-smile, Race gave Davey a little nod. "I'd be obliged to Beck and her folks if they'd be willin' to put up Sophie for a spell - just for a few days 'till she's back on her feet and can start workin', and until I can find a permanent place for her to stay."
Davey looked relieved. "I'll confirm everything with Sadie tonight when she gets home from work," he promised. "Will Sophie be able to lay low at the lodging house until tomorrow morning?"
"Yeah, one more night ain't gonna hurt her. Now that Kloppman's slowin' down a little, he only goes upstairs for cleanin' twice a week or if somethin' needs fixin'. Pretty sure we's in the clear." Letting his grin spread fully across his face, Race clapped Davey on the back. "Thanks, Dave - this'll help us out a lot. I'm real grateful to ya."
"I'm not doing much."
"Only keepin' company with a gal whose pa just happens to own a livin' space with an extra room," Race countered. "It's not every fella who's got those kinds of connections...or that kinda skill when it comes to charmin' his way into a lady's good graces."
"And there's the jab we were missing," Davey rolled his eyes. "It's good to know that you're feeling more like yourself." He began walking down the street towards his usual selling spot, Race amusedly keeping pace beside him.
"If you think I'm gonna pass up a chance to goad you about your girl, Dave, you got another thing comin'."
The other newsie reached into his bag to pull out a paper. "She's not my girl, Race."
The words were short, but his voice was devoid of its usual defensiveness, and if Race hadn't known better, he would have thought that there was perhaps a hint of wistfulness there instead...but the sentimentality didn't linger, and Davey immediately began calling out the headlines, all business as usual.
They sold together by unspoken agreement for the next half hour or so, Davey completely absorbed in his task and Race feeling considerably more lighthearted now that the problem of Sophie's living situation had been temporarily resolved. After depleting their morning stock of papers and purchasing the afternoon edition at the distribution center, they parted ways, Race electing to head even further south so that he could stop by Jacobi's Deli later on his way back to the lodging house to pick up dinner for Sophie. His sister was certainly used to going without much nourishment, but he wanted to provide her with as much semblance of comfort and hospitality as possible.
His second stock of papers sold easily enough, and Race even got lucky on his final sale of the day when a harried-looking gentleman, impatient to be on his way, paid a nickel and didn't bother to wait for his change. The surplus was, of course, immediately spent on ordering Sophie a slightly-excessive dinner, but Race was pleased to be able to treat his sister to something nice, even if it was only a sandwich and a few side dishes.
He headed towards the lodging house, sustenance in hand, and smuggled the paper bag past Kloppman's dozing form at the front desk. Making his way upstairs and double-checking to make sure that no one was around, Race tapped lightly on the door. Sophie cracked it open, and he surreptitiously slipped inside.
"Heya, Soph," he greeted her, setting dinner down on the end table. "How you holdin' up?"
"Well enough," she answered, but he didn't miss the way she was eyeing the bag.
"I brought'cha somethin' to eat," he said, passing her the food. "Pastrami on rye with a sour pickle and a side of 'slaw. It's my friend Henry's favorite order. I think the salami and Swiss is better myself, but I know that ain't your preference." He grinned. "There's even a big ol' molasses cookie down there at the bottom."
Sophie's eyes shone. "Thanks, Tony. I don't think I haf'ta tell you that I'm hungry enough to eat a horse." She pulled the sandwich from the bag and immediately began to wolf it down. "You gonna have any?" she asked, holding it out to him after taking a bite. It was such a familiar gesture - for in the past they'd often had to make due with just one meal between them - that Race felt a pang of nostalgia hit him out of nowhere. It wasn't sadness, exactly, for he'd never want to revisit that time of his life when he and Sophie had been more or less scraping by on their own…but it made him feel a little melancholy nonetheless.
"Nah, that's all for you," he answered, waving off his sister's offer to share her sandwich. And it felt good to say those words, to see her actually have a square meal to herself for once. He could tell that she hadn't been eating well in the last several months; her face was thinner than ever, and even her ill-fitting clothing couldn't hide the gauntness of her frame, but he comforted himself with the thought that he'd make sure she started eating regularly now that he could help her get the nutrition that she needed. The realization that her previous "caretakers" had clearly failed so miserably in this area brought on a fresh wave of anger, but Race tamped it down as best as he could. All that mattered was that Sophie was in Manhattan now and no longer under their thumb.
"Hey, so...I got somethin' worked out regardin' where you's gonna stay for the next few days," he said aloud. "It ain't a permanent situation, just somethin' to buy us a little more time 'till you can get settled and heal up a little."
"Is it the place you was tellin' me about?" his sister asked around a mouthful of sandwich.
Race shook his head. "Nah; I checked there first thing this mornin', but they ain't got any openings right now, so we had to find somewhere else for you to stay." Briefly, he filled her in on the arrangement that he'd worked out with Davey, explaining to Sophie that, pending confirmation from the Beckers, she'd be able to stay at their tenement until she was back on her feet.
"I ain't ever been inside the place before," he admitted, "but it don't seem too bad. It's sharper lookin' that some of the tenements in the area, and from what Davey tells me, the landlord works real hard at keepin' it up. Plus, it's close by, so it won't be hard for me to visit."
Sophie nodded. "Sounds nice," she said vaguely, and Race could tell that she was apprehensive but was trying for his sake not to show it.
"I know it ain't ideal, Soph," he consoled her, "but I think it's gonna turn out all right. Davey'll look out for you if I ain't there, and Beck's real sweet, so I bet her family's just as nice too. I know you's havin' to just take my word for it since you ain't met any of them before, but I promise, they ain't gonna hurt'cha or treat you rough. They's good folks."
"Seems a little strange that they'd be willin' to put up a stranger without expectin' anything in return," Sophie observed.
There was a part of Race that privately agreed, for life had taught both of them to be wary of purported acts of charity, but he knew that in this case such suspicion was likely far from warranted.
"It does sound a little strange," he agreed, "but it's our only option now, and like I said, Soph, I think it'll turn out all right."
His sister was silent for a moment, but eventually she nodded, finishing the rest of her sandwich and pickle without saying anything more.
"Anyway, you's gonna be stayin' here at the lodgin' house tonight," Race concluded, figuring he might as well wrap up the subject. "Davey said he'll confirm everything with me tomorrow, and if it's all squared away, we'll figure out when to move you over to the tenement."
Sophie nodded again.
"You get to sleep some during the day?" Race asked, changing the subject as she started on her coleslaw. When he'd seen her that morning, he could tell that she hadn't slept a wink, which was understandable given everything that she'd been through, but he knew that she'd need to rest if she was going to heal.
"I slept some," Sophie answered noncommittally. "It's kinda hard to settle down when you's always worried about someone walkin' in on you. And then there's the bad dreams…"
Race grimaced. He didn't need any elaboration to know what those dreams were likely about.
"Could've been worse, though," came Sophie's characteristically positive brush off. "Bella kept me company - slept most of the day, like you said she would." A slightly sorrowful look crossed her face as she added, "I sure am gonna miss her even though she's just a skunk and I ain't even known her for that long."
Race chuckled. "She's got a way of charmin' folks, even those who ain't too fond of her kind of animal. Albert and Elmer is always smugglin' her bits of food from the dinin' hall, and you should've seen how smitten Davey was with her when he stayed over at the lodgin' house for a week. That bummer practically walked off with her in his arms when it was time for him to go."
Sophie smiled. "Sounds like you got yourself some good friends here, Tony."
Race cracked a smile. "Yeah...they ain't half bad."
His sister set the now-empty cup of coleslaw aside and rummaged through the paper bag to pull out the molasses cookie at the bottom, immediately sinking her teeth into the soft, chewy confection.
"Will you tell me more about 'em?" she asked around a mouthful of crumbs. "The newsies, I mean? I know you's shared some things before, but I wouldn't mind hearin' any new stories if you got 'em."
"Sure," Race agreed easily. He'd be planning to talk with her more about what had happened in Brooklyn, for some questions still lingered in his mind, and he wanted to make sure that she was really all right, but, in true Higgins fashion, she'd steered the conversation to something lighthearted, preferring distraction to disclosure as a balm for the ordeal that she'd undergone. Race himself was familiar with that tactic, having employed it himself often enough, and he was the last person in the world who would think to oppose or despise that decision.
"Guess I'll start off by tellin' you some more about Jack," he began, falling easily back into the role of storyteller to his younger sister. "Like I said before, he's the leader here and one of the best newsies around. Got a knack for readin' folks, and he's real good at managin' the fellas too. There was one time, though, soon after he took over, where he slipped up, and we all gave him the best kinda grief for it."
Sophie leaned forward, listening intently as Race humorously recounted Jack's first week as leader of the newsies and the incident involving a pair of gold dice and a bucket of water that had taken the then-much-cockier older boy down a peg or two (though Race still privately maintained that the early serving of humble pie had also made Jack a much better leader in the long run). When he'd finished his story, Sophie's eyes were bright with amusement, the haunted look on her face noticeably lessened, and Race didn't hesitate for a moment when she asked for him to keep going.
He told her about Albert's penchant for pilfering, and about the time Finch discovered that Crutchie could predict the weather with his leg.
He told her about the ongoing (and secret) bets the newsies had regarding when the hopelessly romantic Romeo would actually land his first steady girlfriend.
He told her about the time Buttons had been handsomely rewarded by a rich lady whom he'd impressed with his sewing skills when a button had fallen off her coat on her way to the theater and he'd quickly set it to rights so that she'd made it to the show with time to spare.
He told her about the night he and the boys had played a spontaneous game of hide and seek in utter darkness, no one managing to locate the silent and stealthy Specs until the following morning.
He told her about the Jacobs brothers' first day on the job, and about how Sniper had found Bella II's mother (the original Bella) out back behind the lodging house.
He told her about the habit Elmer had picked up of talking to the squirrels in Central Park, and of the way Mush always carried chocolate candies in his pocket as a conversation starter. He told her about Henry's good-natured competition with the lodging house cook, and about Jojo's obsession with upper class life and his assertion that one day he would live in a mansion on Fifth Avenue, with a whole fleet of servants to do his bidding while he frittered away his time as much as he pleased.
He told story after story, each one more amusing than the last, bringing to life with his wit and his words each of the boys whom he was proud to call his brother. There were things, of course, that he didn't share, for some stories were sacred amongst the newsies, and Race would never speak a word of them, not even to his sister - but the lighthearted, idiosyncratic, endearingly-familiar things that he could relate he related with gusto, for his bunkmates were family, just as his sister was, and though he hadn't told the newsies much about Sophie, he wanted her to know them as much as possible, even if only through words.
Eventually, he told her about Artie, too, for as much as Race wasn't proud of how he'd handled that incident (and many of the newsies still didn't know all that had taken place), he felt the need to speak honestly to her about it. It was a part of the lodging house's history now, and an indelible part of Race's newsboy experience, and though he hadn't chosen to dwell on it, he hadn't forgotten it, either, and probably never would.
Sophie gave him a sympathetic look after he related the unhappy end of Artie's time with the newsies, and in her expression Race saw a gracious acceptance of his mistake and failure, the same look that he'd seen on Jack's face when the newsie leader had assured him that Artie's betrayal was only a temporary setback, and that, despite Race's oversight, everything was going to be okay.
And the reminder of this affirmation made the sting of the memory lessen just a little bit more.
"Tell me another story, Tony," Sophie urged, breaking into his thoughts.
And at her encouraging, hopeful smile, Race indulgently obliged.
A/N: *The Elizabeth Home for Girls was a shelter in Manhattan run by the Children's Aid Society. It would have been in operation during this time, and was located on Twelfth Street, as depicted in this chapter.
Thanks for reading this special Higgins Siblings edition of SWW. I know there were a few of you who expressed concern for Sophie, so I hope that this chapter eased some of those worries on her behalf. If you're curious to hear how she managed to find the Duane Street lodging house, please check out the one shot in Interstices entitled "Reciprocation," which gives her side of the story and explains how she made it across the Bridge (for, contrary to Race's assumption, she didn't do it alone).
Thank you for reading this installment. Please leave a review on your way out if you have a moment - it really means a lot to me to hear from you! :)
Guest Review Response:
Guest: So glad to hear that you're still around and still ready for more! I'm glad that I could provide some new content to help with the nostalgia. ;) Thank you so much for taking the time to leave a review - I really appreciate it (and I hope that this chapter lived up to the "Write it good!" directive - otherwise I might have to go back to wheezing my way through the flower show ;)).
