The bird of Manhatten

Chapter 12 - in which a bird meets a king

"Sit down here.", I say as we reach my room an' point at my bed.
She sits down, her whole body shackin'.
She's still cryin' from da shock, but I think she's getting' better.
I wet a handkerchief an' begin ta clean da cuts at cheek an' throat. Luckily, they'se not deep.
From downstairs I hear loud noises.
"Stay up here.", I tell her. "I'll be right back."

Jacks P.O.V.

I had been walkin' through da Lodge when Claire came in. She seemed disturbed an' pulled at my hair.
"What's da matter?", I had asked her. "Where's... Wait. Did somethin' happen?"
Claire moved her wings one single time. 'Shit!', I had thought an' when she led me ta da Brooklyn bridge, I was seriously worried.
I followed her over ta Brooklyn an' into an alley way. Two blonde men where layin' there unconscious. One of 'em had a bloody knife. Both had been taken down wit' a sling shot.
Da Brooklyn Newsies had been here. Or at least one of 'em.
I ran ta their Lodge House an' now I's standin' in front of da door. I knock an' a little redhead opens an' looks at me with big eyes.
"Where is my Newsie?", I ask when he doesn't say anythin'.
He still doesn't answer an' backs up, so I can enter. Inside da other Brooklyn Newsies stand.
They is all starrin' at me. Of course. I normally announce my visits.
"Where is my Newsie?", I repeat my question.
No one answers.
I's about ta snap out as I hear a small creak on da stairs an' spin around.
Spot Colon is standin' there, leanin' against da ledge.
"Where is my Newsie?!" This time I almost shout.
"Upstairs.", Spot answers calmly an' turns back up. I follow him.

As we stand in front of da door, he hesitates.
"Be careful, Jack. She ain't really stable at da moment.", he warns.
I raise an eyebrow, but he ignores me an' opens da door.
Magpie sits on da bed.
Her body's shakin', her eyes is red an' puffy like she had cried. She has a cut on her cheek an' one on her throat.
I rush over, kneel before her an' take her hands in mine. She looks at my hands an' then slowly up at me.
"Jack?", she whispers.
"Yes.", I say softly. "It's me."
She forces herself ta smile at me but winces. Her cheek seems ta hurt badly.
"What happened?", I ask rather Spot than Mags.
As da 'King' of Brooklyn answers me, Mags begins ta cry, so I sit down beside her on da bed an' hug her, while I listen ta him.

When he's done tellin' da story, Mags had fallen asleep.
"I'll kill 'em!", I growl, clenchin' my fist. Then I pick her up. "I don't like ta say it but...", I sigh. "But thank ya. We'll be on our way now."
Da Brooklyn Newsie nods. "Carryin' da banner.", he says.
"Carryin' da banner.", I answer an' carefully walk down da stairs.
"Wait!", Spot suddenly calls an' comes after me.
"What?"
"I'll give ya protection."
"What?"
"Here." He points at a big, muscular Newsie. "Bull, ya'll go wit' 'em. Make sure they come home safe."
Da big guy nods an' comes over ta me.
I sigh. "Thank ya again, Spot.", I say wit gritted teeth. He smiles satisfied.

In da end I's happy, Bull joined me. Although Mags is very thin an' light foa her age an' hight, because she eats too little, she's still a sleepin' goil of fourteen, almost fifteen years. After da bridge Bull is carryin' her.

At da lodge house we say goodbye, I take her again an' carry her inside.
Da others is still awake an' play an' laugh an' smoke jus' like every evening. But da noise dies when I come in. Nobody says something. They jus' look at us. I can read thousands of questions in their eyes, but no one asks.
I walk past 'em, havin' some kind of flashback, an' carefully lay her down on her bed. I take off her shoes and cover her up.

Magpies P.O.V.

I wake up. My cheek hurts an' my throat burns. It takes a while, 'till I remember yesterday.
It seems like Jack brought me home, because I lay in my bed behind da curtain.
Da other's still sleepin'. I can hear 'em snoring. Then I hear steps on da steps an' a moment later Mr. Kloppman begins ta wake up da boys. I sit up an' yawn.
Then, after Mr. Kloppman looked after me, or rather my cuts, I follow da boys down.
No. Actually, I try ta follow da boys down.
I's stopped by someone grabbin' my arm so sudden, I almost fall down da stairs. But da someone catches me.
"Sorry.", Jack says. "Didn't mean ta scare ya."
"Well, ya failed miserably.", I answer playfully, smilin' at him.
"Sorry again." He smirks. "So, how's ya?"
"Me or my cuts?"
"Both."
"Perfectly fine."
"Ya sure?"
"Yes, of course. I's home, wit' my family. How can't I be fine?"
"Ok.", he laughs. "Wanna sell wit' me today?"
"Um..."
"Ya don't have ta.", he says quick, already turnin' away.
Now I grab his arm. "I'd love ta sell wit ya, Cowboy."
I peck his cheek an' smile at him. He smiles back. I love these moments.
I let his arm go an' we walk down together.