Always and Forever... Maybe *Spot Conlon*

Chapter 30: Casuality

The next few days in Brooklyn are oddly peaceful. Living with the Brooklyn newsies isn't much different from living with the Manhattan newsies. We all wake up around the same time, get ready together, then head out. I sell papers until around noon with Spot, and then we go to the docks and hang out with the rest of the newsies until just before dark, when we retire to the lodging house. We usually play card games or something to pass the time until bed, before doing the whole routine over again. 

Everyone's on their toes, waiting for something to happen with the war. But the Bronx hasn't made any advances as far as we know. Until they did.

It's been four days since I started staying in Brooklyn, and Spot and I are sitting up on his platform, watching the sun set over the water in silence.

"Spot!" someone calls. "Spot, come quick, it's news 'bout the Bronx and Harlem!"

Spot jumps up and swings off the platform. I follow.

"Spot!" Chet calls again, running around, not paying attention. He runs right into Spot, and Spot grabs his arms, pulling him back.

"Chet, what's wrong? What happened?" Spot asks frantically.

Chet takes a few breaths, trying to calm down. "The Bronx. They killed the leada of Harlem. The Bronx killed the leada of Harlem and now they took it ova. They's controlling all the Harlem newsies, makin' 'em do crazy things and killin' anyone who won't listen. It's chaos ova there, Spot, really."

"It's chaos everywhere," Dash says, walking down the dock. "Midtown, the Bowery, East Side, all the boroughs are freakin' out, scared 'bout what the Bronx is gonna do next."

Spot glances at me. "We gotta get a meetin' with 'Hattan. Get more alliances, to protect more newsies. We can't let the Bronx kill all these innocent people."

Dash nods. "Whaddya want to do, Spot? I got all the spies and messangas waitin' for your word to go."

Spot runs his hand through his hair. "Send one to 'Hattan, tell them to clear out their lodgin' house. We'll hold the meetin' there. Send the rest to different boroughs. Midtown, Bowery, Queens, Richmond, ya know. Make 'em go in pairs actually and send a slingshotta with each of 'em to keep them protected."

Dash nods again. "Got it." He runs off.

"What do you want me to do?" Chet asks.

Spot looks around. "Go get the otha newsies 'round the dock and at the lodgin' house. Don't tell 'em 'bout Harlem if they don't know yet, just tell 'em that we's havin' a meetin' in 'Hattan's lodgin' house."

Chet nods and runs off.

Spot sighs and turns to me. "I guess you's vistin' home quicka than expected."

Brooklyn's the first to arrive at the meeting. The Manhattan newsies cleared out a space for us to gather in. Mush, Jack, Race, and Crutchy all give me hugs, and I say hi to the rest of the boys.

"Is anyone else comin'?" Snipeshooter asks.

"I'm gettin' flashbacks from the strike," Race says.

"This is a lot more serious than that though," Tie says.

"It was war then, it's war now. Only thing that's different is the cause of the war," I say, crossing my arms and leaning back against the wall.

After a few more minutes of whispered conversations, the Bowery newsies walk through the door with three Brooklyn newsies in the lead.

"Isaac," Mush says, standing up. They spit-shake, and then Isaac does the same with Spot and Jack.

"Hey Danny," Cheery says, walking over to me. For once in probably his entire life, he's not smiling.

I hug him. "Hey Cheery. Don't look so glum, it'll all work out."

Cheery nods. "I hope so."

Eastside is next to arrive, then Flushing, Richmond, Staten Island, Woodside, and Midtown. Dash comes through the door by himself.

"Hey, uh, where's the borough you went to?" Spot asks.

Dash sighs. "I went to Queens. They said they don't wanna part of this. They wanna fight the Bronx on their own and they don't need our help. So, I guess it's just the rest of us."

Jack shrugs. "Their choice, I guess."

Jack and Spot talk with all the other leaders about benefits from being allies and what they're doing to stop the Bronx in private as the rest of us mingle, talking softly about what's happening. Once the leaders reach what I assume is an agreement, they turn back to us.

"We've been ova this, and it's common-sense, but don't go out alone. Bring at least two otha people with you, and always tell someone else where you's goin' and how long you's gonna be gone," Spot says.

"Don't go out past dark, sell your papes quickly and head back to our lodgin' houses," Jack adds.

"Don't make yaselfs easy targets, and don't let the Bronx take advantage of you," Isaac continues.

A Flushing newsie raises his hand. "Uh, why can't we just go to the police 'bout this?" 

"Hey, the bulls only go afta us, rememba? Just 'cause Synder's gone don't mean nothin'. They's always lookin' for reasons to go afta street rats like us. They ain't gonna help us, even if death is possible. They just turn their heads and beat the kids livin' on the streets who ain't doin' nothin'," Jack says. "It's the way the city runs. It's betta for us to fight this battle on our own."

"A battle we ain't gonna lose if we all stick togetha," Spot adds.

Jack nods. "That's right. We'll fight to damn doomsday if it means the Bronx surrendas."