Scabs

Chapter 1

{alright, so this first chapter is just sort of getting you into the mood of the story. The basic idea is what would happen if Davey was a scab, instead of a member of the newsboys Union. I wrote this story ages ago, but I published it on Instagram and it was pretty bad. Hopefully I've improved it a bit! Enjoy!}

"Come here fellas, come here." Jack said to the newsies, gathering them up.

"They can't just do that can they?" Albert declared, shaking his head.

"Why not? It's their paper." Race replied, receiving nods all around.

"It's their world." Romeo added.

"We ain't got no rights." Finch sighed.

"We got the right to starve! Let's just get our papes and hit the street while we still can." Crutchie debated.

"At them prices?" Finch laughed.

"We got no choice." Crutchie insisted.

Jack stepped in. "Hold on! No one is payin' no new number."

Albert groaned. "You got an idea?"

"Just keep your shirt on, we can think this through." Jack said, sitting on a crate. The boys began asking questions galore.

"Hey, shut up! I need some room to think." Jack grunted. He sat for a few minutes, hopefully thinking up some genius plan.

"Alright, here's the deal, come on. If we don't sell papes, no one sells papes. No one gets them out there until they put the price back where it belongs." he proclaimed. "Like a... Oh what's the word?" he added.

"A strike?" one of the boys proposed. Jack nodded his head.

"Yeah, a strike! We're on strike!" Jack shouted. The boys all began talking at once, getting excited about the plan.

"We shut down this place, just like the trolley workers did!" he shouted, standing up. The boys hooted in approval.

"Yeah, then the cops'll bust out our heads. Half of the trolley workers is laid up with broken bones." Elmer argued.

"The cops ain't gonna care about a bunch of kids! So what do you say? Strike? Or no?" he yelled to the others.

"Strike!" they all shouted back in unison.

"The newsies of lower Manhattan are officially on strike!" Jack shouted, smiling.

"If we're striking, doesn't someone in charge need to know about it?" Crutchie questioned. The other boys nodded in agreement.

"Oh, it would be a pleasure to tell Weisel myself." Race smiled, pounding his fist.

"Who takes Pulitzer?" Jack asked. All the boys avoided his gaze. Jack sighed, knowing what he had to do. He walked up to the building and opened the door slowly. "Hey, we're going on strike!" he yelled through the doorframe. The secretary looked at him oddly. Jack quickly slammed the door. "That should do it."