Brooklyn Baby | Spot Conlon ¹

Chp. 2: Medda

"Why'd ya only take twenty papes, Davey?" Jack asks.

"Bad headline,"

I shake my head. "Headlines don't sell papes, Davey."

"Newsies sell papes." Jack adds, straightening his cap.

"Without newsies, nobody knows nothin'." I say. The group stops as a whole, taking off their hats to greet the passing girl. I roll my eyes, and keep walking.

"Let's get to it," I say, nudging Jack. "Baby born with three heads! Extra, extra!"

"So, how do ya sell 'em?" David asked, confused.

"People stand up, ask for a pape, ya give 'em one, get a penny, and be on your merry way." Jack answers. I give him some pennies I just scored. Everybody loves a mutant baby from Brooklyn.

"Extra, extra! Nude, bloody corpse found on railroad!" Jack yells.

"Ellis Island in flames! Extra! Extra!" I exclaim.

"Where's that story?" David starts searching the pape.

"Page nine. Thank you, sir. Thousands flee in panic!"

"Trash Fire Next to Immigration Building Terrifies Seagulls?" David reads.

Les approaches us, and we turn to him.

"Didja do what I told ya? Show me, kid." Jack orders.

Les coughs in a very believable cough. "Buy me last pape, mista?"

"Very nice, Jack. Heartbreaking. Go get 'em." I say, ruffling his hair and sending him on his way.

"Our father told us not to lie," David says.

"Ours told us not to starve," Jack replies.

"We all got's an education," I add, smirking. I sell a few more papes, screaming out keywords.

"You're making up all these headlines!" David accuses.

"We ain't doin' nothin' the men who write these do," I tell him. "We's just improvin' tha truth a little,"

"Sells papes." Jack agrees.

"Gimme some more papers," Les says, running up to us. "I got a quarter!"

"You smell like beer." David said, checking over his brother.

"Well, that's how I got the quarter. The guy bet me I wouldn't drink some."

"No drinkin' on the job, bad for business." Jack jokes, ruffling his hair. "What if someone calls the bulls on ya?"

Just then, we hear a scary familiar voice. The voice belongs to a man, slowly approaching Jack. Snyder.

"Is he your friend?" David points Snyder out.

"Beat it!" Jack yells.

"It's the bulls!" I exclaim.

We take off, sprinting away from Snyder. Les and David follow us through the streets. We turn corners, and finally reach a building. We run up the stairs.

"Sullivan, you wait 'til I get you in the Refuge!" We hear. Jack sighs deeply, and rubs his forehead.

"I'm not running any further, I want answers." David demands. "Who was he and why was he chasing you?"

"The Refuge is basically a slammer, for kids. That guy was Warden Snyder. He's tryna get me back," Jack replies. David's eyes widen a little.

"You were in jail?"

"Yeah."

"He called you Sullivan, though." David says.

"The name's Kelly, think we's lyin'?" I retort, backing up Jack. "Kendall and Jackson Kelly. Any more questions?

"How'd you escape?" Les asked excitedly.

"This big shot gave him a ride out in his carriage," I explain.

"Probably the mayor," David grunts.

"Teddy Roosevelt." Jack states. "Heard of him?"

"What's going on in here? Out! Out!" We hear a voice say. I grin, glancing over at our old friend, dressed up in fancy clothes for her show.

"You wouldn't kick me 'n Kenny out without a kiss goodbye, wouldja Medda?" Jack says smirking. Medda gasps, and pulls us into hugs.

"The Kelly's. Where ya been hiding?" She says. "I've missed seeing you in the balcony."

"Hanging on your every word." Jack kisses the back of her hand, and leads her to David. "So, Medda, this is David and Les."

"Hello,"

"This is the greatest star there is, Medda Larkson, the Swedish Meadowlark." I introduce. She coos over Les, tickling him with her purple feather. He starts to cough that little fake cough.

"Buy me last pape, miss?"

"Oh, he's good." Medda laughs. "Speaking as one professional to another, I'd say you have a good future for yourself."

"So, Medda, is it okay if we crash here for a while?" I ask.

"Just until our little problem outside goes away?" Jack adds.

"Stay as long as you'd like." Medda says, bringing us backstage. I lean on the wall, smirking to Jack, who's lookin' at David's expression. He's swoonin' over 'ol Medda.

We watch her show from backstage, watching her sing some bad song, but she makes it enjoyable. Medda's always been a people's person. She has an effect on the crowd.

"Well, I reckon the problem is gone now." Jack says.

"Bye, Medda," I hug her with Jack, and she ruffles Les's hair, and kisses David on his cheek.

"Hope to see you dears soon!" She calls.

"We walk outside, and David rambles about her performance. I smirk at his enthusiasm.

"She was a friend of our fadda's," Jack says. He picks up a tired Les, and starts walking with us down the dark road.

"Our parents are probably getting worried. How about yours?"

"Nah, they out west lookin' for a place like this," Jack says, pulling out his Santa Fe brochure. He really wanted to go to Santa Fe, it was his dream. "As soon's they find a place, they gonna send for me and Ken."

"You'll be a real cowboy," Les says, yawning. Jack laughs and nods.

We pass by a trolley riot, and David desperately tries to get us away from there. Les, still asleep, didn't see all the fire and ruckus.

"Come to my place, we can divi up, and you can meet my folks!" David tries. Jack looks at me, and I shake my head.

"Jackie, you go ahead. I'm gonna head back to the lodgin' house." I say. "See you tomorrow, Davey."

They nod, and we walk in separate ways. I kick a rock while walking down the street. I got nothing against David, believe me. I just don't do parents. I think they're greedy liars, who think only of themselves. I got experience.

But, I also don't do back stories.

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I apologize for the awful grammar, but that's how they talk sooo :))