I'll Always Look Out For You

Epilogue

Once the conversation is over, Race goes up on the roof. That way, he'll feel closer to the people who have left. And he'll have a great view of the sky. That beautiful sunset sky.

The very same sky that can be seen from Brooklyn.

Race touches the little silver chain he wears around his wrist. He loves the links, the texture, and the temperature of it, as well as the visual things about it and the sound of it clinking. It's worn over time, but Race treasures it nonetheless. Spot had given it to him. And Spot still has the gold chain Race gave him all that time ago. They truly complete each other.

And I get to spend the rest of my life with him starting tomorrow.

He glows at that thought. He can't wait.

Tomorrow, Spot is coming to Manhattan to get Race after saying goodbye to the Brooklyn newsies. Race will say goodbye to his own newsies, and then they'll take off.

And I'll never sell another newspaper again.

Somehow, that's the weirdest thought of them all. Being a newsie is pretty much all he knows. He knows he'll find another job somewhere. But for pretty much all of his life, he's been surrounded by newspapers and the people who sell them.

That reminds him: he still needs to figure out what he should keep and what he should discard.

Because he's been selling newspapers since 1892. And boy, have they been collecting under his bunk.

As much as he'd like to see the sunset through, he knows he can't.

And he has books, too. What will he do those? 

I think I'll keep them all, Race decides. For now.

He looks through his newspaper collection. He's read them all a million times over. But there are a few that stand out: his first newspaper. The newspaper about The Gambler. The New York Sun's paper about the strike. The World being put in a scramble with Pulitzer gone (Race had no idea that Pulitzer didn't actually create The World--he bought it). And now, his last newspaper. These are the ones he'll keep.

He's had a good selling career.

He looks around the room. He looks in the back where there was an empty storage room to set him up to sleep in when he wasn't old enough to be a newsie yet.

There's Kid Blink's old bunk right above him. Snipeshooter's next to him.

Is he really leaving this all behind?

The answer is yes. Yes he is.

This isn't going to necessarily be easy.

But Race is ready to face anything.

Soon enough, morning comes.

Race wakes up at dawn.

There's no way he's letting them all sleep in.

"Alright, everyone up!" Race starts shouting. "Time to CARRY THE BANNER!"

"It's hours before the circulation bell will ring," Boots complains.

"We ain't even sellin' until AFTER you leave," Snipeshooter adds grouchily.

Race's tongue flicks out-in, something that he's done all his life. "Yeah, well. It's the last time I could shout that."

To prove his point, he shouts once again, "CARRY THE BANNER!"

It feels good saying that.

That's one of the major perks of being a leader.

But this is it.