Ch. 4: Getting Brooklyn On Board

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After all the newsies fell asleep, I crept out of my bunk. I tried not to wake anyone. I was lucky Mush was a heavy sleeper. If not I wouldn't have been able to even get out of the bunk.

I had only begun to crawl out of the window before I heard the voice of Race. "Where are ya goin'?"

Why was it always Race catching me doing things I wasn't supposed to? Not that I wasn't supposed to be doing this, even if Jack wouldn't approve. He's not the boss of me.

"None o' yer business, Race," I said quietly.

"Oh yeah? Then why are ya climbin' out the window?" He said. Ugh, why did he have to ask a valid question? I had no reason to climb out the window. I could've just walked out the door and nobody would care.

"I said it's none o' yer business."

When I got outside I found a rock and put it in my pocket. What? It was for self defense.

As I was on the bridge on my way to Brooklyn, I felt like someone was watching me, but when I glanced around, I saw nobody was there. I made it down to the docks where we had seen Spot before.

Suddenly I was grabbed by my shirt collar and slammed into a wall. "Who're you?" His voice was deep and husky. It was a boy I saw in Brooklyn earlier today. He was tall and he looked like he could and would throw me ten feet into the water.

"Hiya, pal. What's up? Could ya maybe put me down?" I asked. He just glared at me. What was he even doing this for? "If I tell ya my name will ya put me down?" No answer again. "Alright, if ya wanna know that bad. What d'you even want, like my full name or what?"

"Put 'im down, Champ," Said a voice from the darkness. I looked over to see Spot. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark. Champ dropped me. He looked really upset about doing so. He probably would've pounded me to the ground if it weren't for Spot.

After Champ left I said, "He's scary." I meant for it to come off sarcastically but he actually was so I don't know how it sounded.

"That's kinda the point."

"I was kinda bein' sarcastic."

Even in the dark I could see the annoyance on his face. You could just tell he was thinking I should've let him pound you.

"What d'you want?"

"I want you ta join the strike."

"Didn't we do this earlier?"

"Yeah, but see, David had a different method and I just think that it wasn't workin' all that well."

"I don't- It was workin' fine," He said.

I shook my head. "No, but all he was doin' was inflatin' yer massive ego and I just don't think that's a good idea."

"Massive ego? I think that's a bit of an exaggeration."

"It ain't though. It ain't. You have a big ego, I'm not even gonna- I just think you need to be humbled."

"Humbled? I don't think-"

I put a finger in front of his face. "Shh. Trust me, you do." He gave me an irritated look.

"Uh, okay. Wha- Why're ya here?!"

"You need to join the strike. And before you say "You gotta show me" or whatever it was that ya said before, stop. Just don't. It's annoyin'. I know you think yer bein' all cool and such but you just seem like you think you're better than everyone, which yer not, so just shut up."

He didn't seem to know what to say. He probably wasn't used to people coming to Brooklyn to tell him to shut up.

He seemed to gain his composure and his confused look turned into a glare. "How dare you speak ta me like dat?"

"Geez, it's like ya think yer the king or somethin'."

"Well I am the-"

"King o' Brooklyn, yeah, yeah. I don't care. As far as I'm concerned, yer just a kid with a cane and a slingshot. Now, the strike?"

He looked dumbfounded. "How do I know-" I knew exactly what he was going to say.

"You don't know. That's how life is sometimes. You don't need ta know everythin'. Got it? And just for yer information, we lost someone today." I said, "He's not dead," I clarified. "I hope... Anyway, he was taken by the bulls. He's probably at the Refuge right now."

"And who's this one kid? What makes him so important?" It took all of my strength not to shove him into the ocean.

I took a deep breath. "This kid happens ta be the nicest person I know. And what classifies someone as "important" anyway? Everyone is important to someone." Spot didn't answer. "Y'know what? Nevermind. I give up. Don't join the strike. I don't care anymore." I threw my arms up in defeat.

"See? That's the problem," He said, putting his cane on my shoulder. "You gave up too quick."

"I really wanna throw you off a bridge right now," I said without thinking. He stared at me like he wanted to do the same thing to me. I probably shouldn't have said that. I had a tendency to speak before thinking.

He stared blankly for a moment. "Try."

"Try? We ain't even on a bridge." Why the heck did he want me to try? He looked at me like I hadn't gotten to the point. "Let's get back on topic. We were talkin' 'bout the strike, right?" He nodded. "Right, err, what makes you feel so entitled that ya can't help yer fellow newsies?!" I tried to get back into my furious mindset.

"Hey, it's not exactly safe. I don't want my boys gettin hurt." That was actually kind of sweet.

I mentally punched myself in the face and reminded myself I was supposed to be mad. It didn't really work. I couldn't think of a way to respond, so I just stared at him. He looked slightly uncomfortable but at this point I didn't even care anymore. His opinion didn't matter to me at the moment.

Forming words was strangely hard. "I- I get that, but don't you hate the prices being jacked up? It's worth it ta strike." I didn't completely believe what I was saying. I didn't think a strike was a great idea. The only thing keeping me from backing out now was Crutchy. "Just- Just think about it, okay?"

"No promises." I rolled my eyes. He gave me his stupid smirk. Did he have to be such a jerk?

We sat in the dark. I stared at the pitch black ocean. I promised myself one day I was going to push Spot into it. It made me chuckle, the thought of Spot scrambling out of the water, his clothes soaking wet, a glare on his face.

Then I realized it was starting to get really late. I would have to leave soon or I wouldn't be there before everyone woke up.

"Gotta go." I started to run back to Manhattan. "I hate yer guts, Conlon," I called back.

"Don't worry, the feelin' is mutual."

I had no idea how that went. I didn't think I'd convinced him. I did a terrible job, maybe David's method was better. I could've tried it but I didn't think I was able to compliment him without feeling sick. I probably should've tried it.

I was dead tired when I got back to the newsboys lodge. I had to run. All the way from Brooklyn. I hated running. Why did I go again?

I was glad that nobody was awake though. I was not in the mood to be bothered. I barely had enough energy to climb into bed before immediately passing out.

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