Disclaimer: This is a non-commercial work of fanfiction. Anything recognizable from Newsies belongs to Disney and not to me.
Chapter 128: (No) Holding Back
A/N: For those of you who read my story "Recollection" and wanted to see a reunion between young!Davey and young!Race, the first half of this chapter is for you (and for those of you who haven't read it, feel free to check it out if you'd like)!
"Hey, Soph, did'ja check under the bed to make sure nothin' got left?" Race grunted as he pushed the armchair in the room back into place.
"I came here with only the clothes on my back and whatever was in my pockets," his sister reminded him. "Ain't like I ever had enough to clutter up the place." But she followed his suggestion anyway and peeked under the bed.
"Nothin'," she confirmed, getting to her feet and then scanning the rest of the apartment before letting out a little sigh. "I know it weren't like I stayed here long, but it still feels kinda sad to be leavin'."
"You's goin' to a good place," Race consoled her. "Might take some gettin' used to, but I know you's gonna fit in real well, and all the gals is gonna love you."
"What makes you so sure about that?" Sophie asked, sounding skeptical.
"You's a Higgins," Race grinned at her. "Ain't nothin' not to love."
His sister smiled at the self-assured statement.
"You ready to go, then?" Race asked, getting to his feet. He'd thought that moving his sister out of the Becker tenement would have taken more time, but Sophie had actually cleaned most of the apartment beforehand, and when Race and Davey had arrived after selling the last of their papers, there really wasn't much for them to do. They'd moved the furniture back into place and had swept the floor, and then Davey had gone over to the landlord's office to make sure that there wasn't anything else needed for the check out process while the Higginses had finished straightening up the place.
"Ready as I'm gonna be," Sophie answered, still sounding reluctant. She'd walked over to the door where she'd set down the knapsack that she'd be taking to the Bronx with her.
"What's in that package?" Race queried, noticing a small parcel next to his sister's bag.
"Some cookies and dried fruit," she replied. "Mrs. Becker gave 'em to me when I was over at their place earlier to say goodbye...said she didn't want me gettin' hungry on the walk over, and she gave me a set of hand-me-down clothes, too. Pretty sure they was either Sadie's or Lilly's at one point, but they's in real good shape still. Gonna be nice to have somethin' less shabby to wear for a change."
"I brought somethin' for you to take with you, too," Race said, reaching down to dig into his newsboy bag. "Didn't end up havin' time to use it, but it was probably lucky it was with me anyway, since you might've had to leave it behind when you flew the coop."
He drew out a small cloth pouch full of marbles and offered it to his sister, who smiled as she recognized it.
"I kept my lucky shooter with me, but I sure wouldn't mind havin' the rest of our collection back," she said, receiving the heavy bag from Race's hands. "Maybe it'll give me a chance to make some friends at the lodgin' house, and if nothin' else, it'll help pass the time."
"You wanna have a quick game now?" Race suggested. It would probably be the last time he'd have a chance to play with his sister for a while, and as optimistic as he'd tried to appear, he was in no hurry to rush her off to the Bronx.
"Why not?" Sophie agreed, uncinching the pouch. "Might as well end my stint in Manhattan with the satisfaction of takin' my older brother down a peg or two." She grinned at Race. "Better watch out, Tony - I ain't as inexperienced and clumsy as the last time we played. You's gonna have to work hard to keep up with me this time."
"Good thing we's playin' for fair, then," he joked, helping her arrange the loop of string that would serve as their marble ring on the ground. "Sure wouldn't want to lose any of these beauts."
The collection they'd come into possession of was a handsome one with several unique cat's eyes and aggies among a variety of other more commonplace marbles, and both Higgins siblings had jealously guarded it whenever they played with anyone else, only playing "for keeps" if they were sure that they could beat their opponent, intent on preserving one of the few special possessions that they owned by keeping it intact and within the family.
Sophie pulled her favorite glass shooter from her pocket, and Race dug through the pouch until he'd located his own taw.
Before they could begin, however, a knock sounded on the slightly-ajar door, and Davey walked in.
"You're all set to go, Sophie," he said. "You can leave the key with me, and I'll take it back to the office for you. Mr. Becker sends his apologies that he couldn't stay to see you off himself, but he had a meeting to get to, and…" he trailed off suddenly, his eyes widening at the sight of the marbles on the floor.
"We's just gonna have a quick game," Race explained. "I was actually hopin' to challenge you sometime - we still got a score to settle from back when you was at the lodgin' house havin' your newsie initiation. If you got time, we can play next."
Davey didn't respond, his attention still fixed on the marbles.
"Davey…you hear me?" Race prodded, wondering why the sight had transfixed the other boy so much. "I know you ain't the kind who likes playin' around when there's work to be done, but it ain't like we's been bummin' around all day. A little harmless game ain't gonna hurt no one."
"No, it's not…it's not that," Davey said, sounding a little strangled. "It's just...that's…" he gestured helplessly at the little cloth bag in Race's hand.
"That's what?"
"That's my…"
"Spit it out, Dave," Race demanded.
"That's my marble collection," Davey answered finally.
Incredulous silence greeted his declaration.
"What're you talkin' about?" Race managed, finding his voice. "Your marble collection?"
"Don'tcha remember, Tony?" Sophie broke in excitedly. "You told me there was a boy who gave this to us because his family was moving and he had to leave some things behind. It was back when we was livin' in the apartment on Gold Street in Brooklyn. I was too young to remember it myself, but - "
"Jumpin' Jack, you's right," Race breathed. He looked at Davey, the memories coming back to him as he declared, "You's the boy from that tenement on York, the one who was all worried about movin' to Queens and wonderin' what life was gonna be like with a little brother! We almost played a game, but your ma called you back home before we could get started, and you left your marbles with us and said we could keep 'em!"
Davey nodded, still looking a little stunned. "I didn't think I'd ever see them again."
Race let out a disbelieving laugh. "We didn't think we was gonna ever see you again! We stopped by a few times a couple of weeks later to see if you was still around, but you must've already moved by then." He grinned. "Guess things have a way of comin' 'round full circle. We was clearly destined to be pals, Davey - ain't no denyin' that now!"
"So it seems," the other boy responded dryly, and Race could tell that he was holding back a slightly-sarcastic retort (probably due to Sophie's presence).
"You haf'ta play a game with me, now," Race insisted, motioning for Davey to come join them on the floor. "I never got a chance to see what you was really made of since that first game got cut short. And after that, we'll let'cha have back what's rightfully yours. It's sure given us a lot of fun memories over the past few years, but this collection oughta be back where it belongs."
Davey shook his head, settling himself onto the floor. "I'll take a turn after you've finished, but the marbles belong to you now. I don't want to take them back."
"You sure about that?" Sophie asked hesitantly. "Tony's right - this collection really belongs to you. You only gave it to us 'cause you was movin' away."
"I'm sure," Davey answered, and Race saw the obliging older brother side surfacing briefly as he gave Sophie a reassuring smile. "It's enough for me to know that you've been enjoying them. And I actually left something behind at every apartment my family moved out of. It became a tradition after a while - a symbol of letting go and moving on."
The words were spoken without any trace of sentimentality, but privately Race thought that it sounded like a rather melancholy practice, especially considering that Davey must have been fairly young when he'd started the custom. Race had only a vague recollection of the day that he'd run across the other boy sitting alone outside of his family's tenement, but he did remember thinking that Davey had seemed unusually sad and sober for his age, like he was already preoccupied by the cares of an adult when he should have been years away from shouldering those kinds of responsibilities. It made him wonder if Davey had ever gotten a chance to really be a kid, or if the high expectations of his parents coupled with the constant moving had eradicated any opportunity for that kind of carefree experience.
Of course, having to grow up quickly was something that Race was all too familiar with. He and Sophie's childhood had been riddled with challenges, and while they'd carved out moments of fun and had made some good memories, the harsh reality was that they'd basically raised themselves without much help from their parents. It was a different kind of burden than Davey's: absent parents meant a lack of support, but it also meant a lack of familial obligation and expectations, and the side of Race that balked at unasked-for responsibility was, in a strange way, thankful that his parents hadn't been with it enough to place those burdens on his shoulders. If they had, his relationship with them would have been even more strained than it was now.
"Anyway, don't let me hold up your game," Davey said, interrupting Race's train of thought. "I'm ready to challenge whoever comes out on top, but in the meantime, I'm curious to see which Higgins sibling is the superior marbles player." He smiled slightly. "My money's on Sophie right now. I think you're all show and no go, Race."
Race, recognizing the mild egging on for what it was, gamely rose to the occasion.
"You's gonna be eatin' those words of yours, Dave," he predicted boastfully. "My sister's a sharp one, but the kids on our street called me the best on our block, and it weren't for no reason. I ain't scared of a fella who can't doctor up a headline to save his life and who won't go anywhere without his clothes hangers."
"Fighting words," Davey responded, his smile growing. "I was thinking about going easy on you to save your pride, but not anymore. It's going to be all in, no holding back for me. And incidentally," he added, "I was the best on my block, too."
Race chuckled, amused by the sudden change in tone. It was rare to catch Davey in a playful mood, but on the occasions when that side did show itself, it was a lot of fun to draw it out. The fact that Davey was so serious and self-restrained by default only made his unexpected digressions into humor more entertaining, and Race found himself wondering (on the heels of his earlier rumination) if these were glimpses of who his friend might have been if he hadn't been required to grow up so quickly.
The subject of Davey's preoccupation over the past week (which Race had promised Jack to investigate) hadn't been broached, mostly because they'd been focused on helping Sophie prepare for her departure (and partially because Race had more or less forgotten about it, truth be told), but at least some of Davey's pensiveness must have abated if he was feeling chipper enough to banter.
There was probably no need for an interrogation, Race decided. If Jack was really that interested in finding out what was going on with Davey, he could ask the questions himself. It wasn't worth spoiling the lighthearted mood of the current moment.
Setting the thought aside, Race immersed himself into the game of marbles, happy to have a little more time with Sophie and eager to wipe the floor with Davey once it came time for their match. These moments of casual camaraderie were what he lived for, for as much as he outwardly gave lip-service to the appeal of fame and fortune, the truth was that he could be perfectly content with a simple existence like this for the rest of his days if that was the hand that fate dealt him. Life, in general, was a rigged deck with the big shots holding all the marbles, but that didn't mean a little fella couldn't find a way to make it work for him as long as he learned to just drink in the moment.
"Wait, you're telling me that you and Race already knew each other before we even became newsies?" Les's mouth dropped open in disbelief.
"We didn't really know each other," Davey clarified. "We just ran into each other once, and only spoke for a few minutes. I don't think we even learned each other's names."
"And you were the best marbles player on our block?" Les demanded, sounding even more incredulous.
"Les, I've told you before that I played marbles a lot growing up. I offered to help you with your shooting that one time, but you told me that you weren't interested."
"That's 'cause I didn't think you were actually any good at it!"
Davey shrugged.
"I can't believe it," Les muttered dramatically, flopping down on the bed and draping his arm over his face as though the world was ending. "My boring older brother, a marbles whiz." He peeked out from under his arm to peer at Davey. "And after all these years of not playing, you actually beat Racetrack, too? None of the other newsies can outplay him; he's the best of the best!"
"Not anymore," Davey couldn't help replying. He was still a little surprised that he'd pulled off a win, but apparently the muscle memory hadn't left him, and though it had been a fairly even match, in the end his victory had been decisive, and Race had good-naturedly admitted defeat.
Stacking his slate on top of his schoolbook, Davey gave his brother a sidelong look. "I'm heading over to Mr. Becker's office for tutoring now," he said, "but once you get over your shock, don't forget to check those sums that I flagged for you, okay? Most of them were fine, but a couple have errors that need to be corrected."
"And just like that, the boring older brother is back," Les responded, not bothering to answer the question.
Davey let him be. Rising from the bed where he'd been sitting, he tucked his school implements under his arm and headed towards the door.
"I'm heading over to the landlord's office, Mom," he said as he passed by the kitchen area. "I'll be back in an hour."
His mother, busy at the sink, acknowledged his departure with a few words and a smile, and he half-heartedly returned the latter before stepping out of the apartment and closing the door behind him.
His parents had been particularly solicitous over the past week, excusing him from a few chores that he'd normally be expected to do, giving him money twice to buy lunch at Jacobi's, and generally speaking to him in a much more kindly and attentive way than was the norm. He knew that it was likely out a sense of pity for the reprimand that they'd given him regarding his behavior towards Sadie, which didn't make him feel any better, but it didn't seem right to say so, so he'd simply received their indulgence with polite gratitude and had pushed his feelings about the matter aside.
The last several days had passed by in a blur; he'd thrown himself into his routine of selling, trying his best to put Sadie from his mind, but it had been easier said than done, and he'd struggled to sell his papers, unable to completely cast off the lingering feeling of wistful distraction. The recent friendly competition and his time spent with the Higgins siblings had lifted his spirits temporarily once he'd gotten over his utter surprise at seeing his marble collection again, but his melancholy had returned almost as soon as he'd said goodbye to head back to his own family's apartment, and the impending approach of his tutoring session with Sadie only made things worse.
He'd managed to avoid seeing the landlord's daughter for most of the week, purposefully changing his selling spot to decrease his chances of meeting her, sending Les to Philip Becker's office with the rent payment, and keeping a wary eye on the tailor's shop any time he had to pass by. The few times he'd run across Sadie while walking his brother to school or working around the tenement, he'd kept their interactions perfunctory and brief, affecting a slightly-tense preoccupation that had left little room for conversation. He could tell that she was taken aback by his aloofness, but he'd hurried away before she could press him about it, and thus had managed to avoid any questions regarding his abrupt change in behavior.
It would be significantly more difficult to sidestep the matter at this tutoring lesson, however. He knew that Sadie was likely to broach the subject (and he knew that he probably did owe her some kind of explanation), so his focus would need to be on striking the right balance between maintaining his distance and doing it in a way that reassured her that she was in no ways to blame for it. And, of course, he needed to follow through on the plan that had been forming in his mind ever since the afternoon his parents had admonished him to be more circumspect in his friendship with the landlord's daughter. He wasn't sure if he was capable of pulling it off...but he had to try.
Reaching the landlord's office, Davey took a deep breath, reminding himself of the rules that he'd been trying to observe for the past several days whenever he found himself in Sadie's company:
Be polite and respectful. Don't look at her too much. And don't call her 'Chare.'
He raised his hand and knocked on the door.
Sadie answered, a welcoming smile gracing her features as she ushered him inside, and he felt his resolve already weakening as he took his usual seat at the landlord's desk beside her.
This is non-negotiable, he told himself firmly. You have to go through with it. It's only going to hurt more the longer you draw it out.
"How was selling today, Davey?" Sadie asked, settling herself into her chair. It was her usual opening question, and he could hear in her voice an earnestness to reestablish their camaraderie.
"Selling was fine," he answered. "The headlines weren't bad, and the weather's been nice, so that helped."
"And Sophie's on her way to the Bronx now?"
Davey nodded. "Race is taking her over there to meet the other newsgirls and settle in." He paused, then added, "I know I've said this before, but I really appreciate you and your family letting Sophie stay here temporarily until she got back on her feet. I know it was another thing to manage, but it meant a lot to her, and to Race, too."
"It was a mutually beneficial situation," Sadie asserted. "Sophie's a sweet girl, and my family enjoyed having her company. I hope that this won't be the last we see of her, even if she won't be making her home in Manhattan."
Davey made a sound of agreement. Despite the fact that he knew Sadie was trying to bridge the gap between them with their usual small talk, he couldn't manage to respond in kind, not with everything that was running through his mind at the moment.
The conversation abruptly stalled, and, fearing that the silence would facilitate an opportunity for Sadie to question him about his evasive behavior, he blurted out, "Should we get started on the lesson now?"
"Oh…" she faltered, clearly caught off guard by his abruptness. "I - yes. Yes, of course we can." She reached for her school book, opening it and withdrawing a piece of paper. "We didn't go through much in our book today, but I did take some notes on Mr. Crowell's lecture regarding budgeting and simple investment."
She launched into a recap of the day's material with her usual facility, but he saw her hands brush nervously at her skirt as she spoke, and the sight of it dispirited him, for he hated the thought that she was uneasy and that he was the cause of it. The fact that there wasn't really much to cover that day only confirmed the pragmatic sense in what he was planning to do at the end of their lesson...but that validation brought him hardly any comfort.
Once Sadie had concluded her review of the material, Davey asked a few questions - to prolong the conversation more than anything else - then thanked her as he usually did for her help. The exchange, divested of their usual friendly chatter, had been efficient and quick, taking less than half an hour, but it had lacked the comforting warmth that he'd habitually come to look forward to at the end of his otherwise long and care-filled days. It was a taste of what was to come, and a part of him dreaded the impending loss, but he forced himself to go through with his plan.
"I was thinking," he said aloud, "now that the term is almost over and there's not much being covered in class, that there's really no reason for me to keep coming by for tutoring anymore. I've taken up enough of your time, and I don't want to inconvenience you any longer."
Sadie looked stunned.
"Davey…" she began, "you've never been an inconvenience. What I've told you before still holds true: I really don't mind tutoring you, and all of this talk about burdening me isn't necessary, not when it's something that's no trouble and that we've agreed is mutually enjoyable for - " she cut herself off, as though she was suddenly embarrassed by what she'd been about to say.
"That is," she backtracked quickly, "I meant to say...that if you think this is a convenient time to stop our meetings, we most certainly can." He could tell that she was confused and dismayed (though she was trying for his sake to be agreeable), and his spirit sank...but there was nothing to do now except to continue.
"I think this would be a convenient time," he affirmed. "My dad's going to have his operation soon, so I'll need to focus on helping my family. My studies can't be a priority any more."
"Of course," Sadie agreed, sounding slightly more composed but no less disheartened than before. "That all makes perfect sense." She smoothed her skirt and looked up at him, smiling hesitantly, and for a fleeting moment he could have almost fooled himself into thinking that things were normal between them, were it not for the sick feeling in his stomach and the consternation in her eyes.
"If it's not too impertinent of me," Sadie ventured after a moment of awkward silence, "may I ask you a question?"
Davey nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
The landlord's daughter bit her lip, as though mustering up the courage to verbalize her query, then said softly, "Did someone say something to you? About me, I mean?"
The question immediately incited a jolt of alarm. How could she have known about his parents' reprimand? Did that mean that she was just as aware as they were of his untoward affection? Was he really that embarrassingly obvious?
"What makes you say that?" he asked aloud, deferring his answer in an anxious attempt to ascertain exactly how much she knew.
"Well…" Sadie hesitated, "the last time we spoke - really had a conversation, I mean, on that day we got caught in the rain - things seemed different. More friendly and open, I suppose." She dropped her gaze to her lap. "Perhaps I'm misreading the situation...but it seems as though you've been trying to avoid me as of late, and I suppose I just want to know if..." she trailed off, then abruptly resumed, "if someone had said something to you which has made you reluctant to continue our association."
She looked up at him again, and to his surprise, he could see a trace of fear in her eyes. What did she have to be frightened about? He was the one who ought to be apprehensive in this situation, for she'd done nothing wrong…
But for whatever reason, the fear was there. He'd been studying her far too long at this point to pretend that he didn't see it.
"Someone did say something to me," he admitted, knowing that he had to be honest but not wanting to disclose the entirety of the matter unless he had to. "It wasn't really about you...I mean, I suppose it was...but it had more to do with me than with anyone else."
"I see," she answered quietly.
"It really was my fault," Davey added quickly, speaking whatever came to his mind in an attempt to relieve her distress. "I just needed someone to remind me of what was appropriate, that's all. I should have known better, but I've come to my senses now, and I'm going to be more careful in the future." Despite the vagueness in his statement (for he didn't want to fully admit to his fondness for her if there was still a chance that she might be unaware of it), he was desperate to dispel the trepidation in her eyes, even if it meant admitting to his own errant behavior in a circuitous fashion.
His attempts at reassurance, however, must have fallen short, for Sadie looked even more crestfallen than before.
"It makes sense why you would wish to limit our interactions, now knowing what you do," she stated, staring at her hands. "I…"
The silence stretched between them as she struggled to find the words.
"I'm sorry," she said finally, pulling herself together. "I didn't mean to digress like that. It's just that I will miss our conversations. But I completely understand your reasoning." She looked up at him, her smile soft and sad. "Thank you for telling me, Davey."
Something about it was wrong - the resignation in her voice, the lingering fear in her eyes, the way she seemed to be retreating so quickly rather than playfully or earnestly questioning him in the manner that she normally did… It was as though she'd already known that this was coming, and despite the fact that she was clearly despondent about it, a part of her seemed to be accepting of it, too. He wouldn't have thought that observing propriety mattered to her so much...but maybe their previous closeness really had been untoward enough to the degree where even she couldn't overlook it anymore. At any rate, she wasn't protesting his withdrawal, which likely meant she was in agreement that stepping back was the right thing to do, and it was probably better this way with them coming to a common understanding, even if neither of them was happy about it...
Here the voice of intuition interjected, warning that something was amiss, but Davey couldn't put his finger on what exactly didn't sit right, and the growing ache in his heart soon eclipsed any further ability to question the situation. In the matter of a few moments, he'd done what he'd set out to do, placing a protective barrier between himself and Sadie that would surely eliminate the possibility of any further missteps on his part...
But he'd also injured her somehow in the process. And the wall that he'd quickly built between them didn't feel safe or relieving or fitting at all. It felt cold and rejecting and all sorts of wrong.
I'm sorry, Chare, he thought, holding back the words that he wished he could say. I'm so sorry.
"I won't delay you any longer if you need to get going," the landlord's daughter murmured, breaking into his thoughts. "You're welcome to stay as long as you'd like, of course, but please don't feel obligated to remain if you don't wish to." She placed her sheet of notes in between the pages of her book and began to wipe her slate clean.
Reluctantly, Davey followed suit, closing his book and setting it on top of his slate, wanting to linger with her as long as he could, but knowing that he shouldn't. Despite the fact that he'd been mulling over his intent to end their tutoring sessions for the past several days, he wished, belatedly, that he'd thought his plan through a little better, perhaps softening the announcement with a gift of some kind to thank Sadie for all that she'd done for him. It was a moot point in some ways; he didn't have the money to spare right now. But when he could manage to earn a little extra, he'd make it up to her and would bring her a token of his appreciation...and maybe then the pain would begin to ease a little.
Rising from his place at the table, he bid Abby goodbye, exchanging a few brief words about the chapter that she'd just finished in The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde before he headed for the door.
"Goodnight, Sadie," he said, not daring to look at her. "Thank you again for all of your help."
"Goodnight, Davey," she answered as he passed by, and at those words, his hand faltered on the doorknob, because despite the finality of the situation and the fact that he'd hurt her, her voice was still warm and inviting and soft, and his name sounded so sweet on her lips, like he wasn't just another David among the many lost boys of New York City, but like he was someone who could belong somewhere with someone who wanted to keep him.
He willed himself not to turn around. The thought that Sadie might care for him in that way was a hope that he had no right to entertain.
And so instead of turning back, he stepped forward, away from her warmth and her softness and light and into the darkened cold of the hallway.
The last thing he saw was her troubled and dismayed expression before he closed the door behind him.
A/N: Sorry, friends. :( Not a happy chapter. Please accept a virtual puppy (or kitten, or skunk ;)) and cup of hot chocolate (or your favorite comforting beverage of choice) as consolation. Our next chapter will contain a bit of very important plot development as well as some well-intended interference by a certain bowler-wearing nine-year-old whom we haven't heard from in a while, so I hope that you'll join me then (and hopefully we won't go two months between updates...things have been a little tough lately on my end, but I don't like to keep you waiting). In the meantime, please consider leaving a review if you have a moment to share your thoughts. Your engagement really helps encourage me to keep going. Thank you!
