Oh no. This is not the good one. But of course, just like in every chapter of the strike, not all will be how you remember it. Enjoy! :)
"STOP THE WORLD! NO MORE PAPES! STOP THE WORLD! NO MORE PAPES!"
"Race! Race help me!" David shouts. Really up in Race's face. Too close. Too loud.
"ALRIGHT! I AIN'T DEAF!" Race shouts back. Yeah, not the nicest thing on his part. But he's really anxious and overwhelmed and everything. He can't control when his anger is going to get the better and lash out.
Spot is there, though. Spot hasn't left his side.
Then the road clears and they can see who the scabbers carrying papers are.
But...there's a new face there.
Well, not new.
Spot sees him first. Oh no. He turns to Race and taps his shoulder. "Race, hey Race."
Race turns to face him. "Yeah?"
They turn around to face towards the scabs.
"Just, tell me I'm seeing things," Spot says.
Even Race knows who that new face is.
"You're not just seein' things. That's Jack. Dressed like a scab."
That doesn't work. Why is he dressed up like a scab? Why is he there? Why is he not on the newsies' side?
All the newsies are uneasy, and full of disbelief. "That's Jack." "What's he doing?" "What on Earth?" "Jack's dressed up like a scab."
Even though there's a line of people between the scabs and the newsies, Mush comes up as close as he can, eyebrows knotted. "Jack, look at me, will ya? Jack it's me, Mush-"
His voice is drowned out by others.
But that still resonates with Jack.
But everyone moves so fast. Before Mush can finish that last word, Boots shouts, "Hey, what is this?!"
Blink moves forward. "This can't be happening. This can't be happening!"
Jack looks down. He knew that they would react this way.
"He sold us out!" Spot scoffs.
But the next one breaks Jack.
"Look at you with your new suit," Race spat. "You bum! You scab! I'll soak ya myself!"
There is so much shock and hurt and hatred in Race's eyes. Jack can't take it.
No, Race, please. Please, no.
He feels their connection break. Years ago, Race thought he had made the breaking point over something trivial. But Jack knows for a fact that this is it. Nothing will put this back together.
Before Race can make any moves, Spot stops him. "No, no. If anyone's getting their hands dirty, it's me." He glares at Jack. "Come here you dirty rotten scabber! Traitor!" He lashes out. But he'll never get to him. The newsies have no choice but to haul Spot back. No one is going to fight Jack.
Jack swallows. He knew that everyone would hate him for this.
Then David is allowed to come forward, expressionless.
Not David.
David tries not to tremble. "so this is why you didn't escape last night."
Jack doesn't answer.
"I still don't understand," David continues. "I thought we were friends. Jack, I thought this was your family."
Jack takes in a deep breath. Yeah. This is his family. He can't even begin to explain all that's going through his head. He wants to cry out for help. He wants to confess everything to David. But he can't.
He whispers, "it was never meant to last forever."
David has nothing to say. He just stares silently, full of disappointment.
Jack tries to elaborate, make it sound better than it is. "Dave, I'm twenty one. Nearly twenty two. I should have left ages ago. But I didn't. And look at the mess we're in now."
"You never cared about us," David says. "You were just waiting for the opportunity to leave."
"No, Davey, please-"
"You didn't tell us why you wouldn't escape last night," David cuts him off. "You didn't even tell me your real name!" He has a right to be mad. Jack did lie to him. David gets really close. "And all those words you said? Those were my words."
"Well, you didn't have the guts to say 'em, did ya?" Jack's heart breaks with every word he says.
David stands his ground. "I do now." He turns around. He's about to walk away for good. Then he looks at all the faces in the crowd. All the newsies. They trusted Jack as much as he did. They looked up to him. Jack betrayed them in a way that none of them were ever expecting. David's the only one who was allowed to actually try and talk to Jack. He can't let the newsies down.
So he turns around, and attempts to throw a punch at Jack. Weasel stops him.
"Want a new suit of your own?"
"NEVER!"
"Get out!"
With a lot of pushing and shoving, David is now back right where he started.
David, I am so sorry.
But no one here is a mind reader. No one hears Jack's internal thoughts.
Now, the well-dressed people carrying newspapers are escorted through the angry sea of newsies, all shouting things at him.
"Seize the day, huh, Jack?" Race yells half-heartedly after Jack. Seize the day. Carpe diem. Lui non carpe diem. You can't do that, Race. You can't mix languages like that. You can't use present tense and pretend it's past. Say what you mean, Race. Say he didn't seize the day.
Jack left us.
"He's foolin' 'em," Les pipes up. "Yeah, that's it. He's just foolin' him."
Race and Spot and everyone else exchange glances. Les is cute, and looks up to Jack with little-kid awe, but what he wants is just not realistic.
"Sure kid," Race tells him. "Just foolin' him."
They all start walking in the opposite direction. All except for Race. He stands there, frozen, staring at Jack.
Spot notices he stopped. "Hey, Race-"
But Race fills up with anger.
They all leave.
Jack was supposed to be the one who would never leave.
Nothing lasts forever. You hear me? Nothing.
I'll stay, Race. I promise I will.
I want my brother by my side.
All these thoughts and more flood his mind.
Jack. His friend. His brother.
Without anyone holding him back, Race runs after the huddle of people with Jack in the middle.
"You promised you would stay!" he yells. Suddenly, there are people keeping him back. He doesn't care. He can still shout. So he does, at the top of his lungs. "YOU SAID YOU WOULD STAY FOREVER! But you didn't! Look at you now!"
He bites his lip. He wants to strike a nerve. "What would Ray think?"
Jack stops walking.
"Would Ray be happy? Is this what he would have wanted? Imagine he comes here right now. Would he congratulate you? But that ain't never gonna happen. But if it did? How do you think he'd feel? You PROMISED you would stay. You PROMISED."
The men start pushing him away.
Race has one last thing to say. "I TRUSTED YOU!" he screams. "I TRUSTED MY BROTHER! AM I NOTHING TO YOU?"
He knows he's never going to get a response. He thrashes out of the men's arms, and runs the other way.
He's grown up. He's not a little kid anymore. Or at least, that's what he tells himself. But it's so much less convincing when he's running away from everyone as he cries.
Jack thought he felt dead inside. Not like this. Race's words are forever ingrained in his mind. You promised you would stay. What would Ray think? How do you think he would feel?
None of it compares to the last thing Race yelled at him.
I trusted you. I trusted my brother. Am I nothing to you?
That alone is enough to want to make Jack want to break down.
He betrayed them. All of them. Race. David. Les. Mush and Blink. Crutchy. All of them. Everyone that had ever meant something to him.
And now they hate him. They all hate him with all their might.
And he brought this upon himself.
Spot chases after Race. "Race!" He doesn't want him to get too far. He remembers hearing people talking about how Race would sometimes shut down. If they were just in the lodging house, they would be okay. But they're in the big world. Race could get lost anywhere, and stay there forever.
I gotta follow him! And so Spot runs as fast as he can.
Race is fast. But so is Spot.
"Race!"
He finally catches up with him. "Race!"
Race stops.
"Hey," Spot says. "It's gonna be okay-"
Race whips around, eyes red. "No. It's not gonna be okay."
"Race-"
"Mm-nn." He shakes his head. He can't stop trembling. "Jack left us. He said he'd stay. He promised he would-"
"Race." Spot pulls Race into a hug. "Come here."
Race ... doesn't try to pull away. He thinks about it. He doesn't want to stop moving. But Spot is welcoming. He's here. He's now. He's here for Race. And so Race holds on to Spot, and just cries.
"I'm here," Spot murmurs in Race's ear. "I'm here. It's okay. None of it makes any sense, I know. But I got you. I'm here for you. I will always be there for you."
I will always be there for you.
Race holds that phrase close to his heart.
Race ... feels the words stopping in his throat.
Spot doesn't try to get him to say anything. "That wasn't easy. I know it wasn't. But we're going to get through this. I know we will."
Race lets Spot comfort him.
Until he's ready to move on to something else. Not that he doesn't like this; he just won't physically let himself be in one place for too long. It makes him really antsy if they're just going to stand in one place forever.
Gently, silently, Race pulls away. Spot lets him. He doesn't want to stand. If he stands, then he'll want to move. So he sits on the ground, brings his knees up to his chest, and starts rocking, lost in his mind.
Spot sits next to him, and places his hand on top of Race's. He doesn't say a word.
Race stops his rocking movement. He looks at Spot's hand on his. Then he looks up at Spot's face and those kind blue eyes, and his pretty, smiling face.
Race looks down again. Then, he picks up Spot's hand. Spot lets him. Silently, Race plays with Spot's hand. He looks really close up at it, he spreads around Spot's fingers, putting his hand against his own. Spot is curious. He's never seen anyone act like this before. But it calmed Race right down. So, Spot offers Race his other hand, seeing what he'll do with it. Tentatively, Race takes it, putting more focus into this one more than the other one, which Spot takes back and puts in his lap.
He remembers doing this with Ray when he was younger. When Race would stop talking and hide under the stairs, Ray would sit down with him, not saying a word. When Race was ready, Ray would take him out and they would sit in their chair. And, without saying a word, Race would play with Ray's hands.
Race doesn't know how his fascination with hands began. He's just always liked looking at them up close. Because they truly are wonders. Every half-moon/crescent shape on fingernails, every knuckle, every finger. All the textures, and where you can see the veins, and where little hairs might be. The palms he's not as interested in. But hands are interesting. Without them, humans wouldn't have evolved the way they would. But most of all, the simple action of examining hands inexplicably grounds Race in a way like no other.
He looks up again into Spot's eyes. Those eyes ground him even more. And now he's out of his mind and back to Earth.
He feels his voice come back. "Thank you, Spot."
Spot smiles reassuringly at him. "Of course."
Race gently puts Spot's hand back in his lap like the other one. Spot raises it, waving the fingers. "Why do you do that?" he asks curiously.
Race shrugs. "I don't know. I just..." he doesn't know how to put it into words. "Anyway, thanks for staying here with me. Through it all. I know it doesn't look good. I know I'm different-"
"Hey." Spot puts a hand on Race's knee. "Of course I stayed here with you."
Jack promised he would stay. "I thought Jack was going to stay too," Race mutters. "Turns out, he didn't."
"If you want to talk about it, I'm here to listen."
"Thanks, Spot. That means a lot. Really." He pauses and sighs. "I just wasn't expecting it, you know? I thought that the last thing Jack would ever do was become a scab--and I thought he never would become a scab. All my life, Jack's been there. I know him. And this...this isn't him. Those clothes aren't him. The way he acted wasn't him. I don't get it. My Jack would never do something like this." Race sighs. "I guess I'm just confused. And kinda mad. More sad than anything else, really."
"That's really good that you can identify which emotions you're feeling, Race," Spot says empathetically.
I did it. I put my thoughts together in a comprehensible way.
I didn't know I could do that.
"He has me angry too," Spot continues. "I haven't known Jack as long as you have. But he and I are close. And him betraying everyone like that? I didn't know he had it in him. But, we don't need Jack."
"Yeah," Race agrees half-heartedly. But I still want him. "We can keep going on our own."
"I can speak for all of Brooklyn when I say that we will keep going."
There are a couple silent moments. They have finally run out of things to say.
Race thinks about it. They're still going to keep on striking.
But will they be motivated?
Their grand leader just sold them out and became a scab.
Will they want to keep on going?
How do we tell everyone that we want to keep on going?
Then, Race realizes something. How did we get them together in the first place?
We held a big rally.
Race's eyes widen. His thoughts are moving fast again. He sits up a little taller. His hands start shaking. It's obvious that he's had some sort of epiphany.
"Race, what is it?" Spot chuckles. He doesn't know what Race is going to say, just knows that there's going to be a lot of it.
"Last night-no--two-two-nights ago--you know how--ra-rally--there was a--how we all had-we all met up-"
"Take your time," Spot tells him.
Race stops and takes a deep breath. "You know how we got everyone together for a rally at Irving Hall two nights ago?"
"Yeah."
"What if...?" he starts again. "What if we have another rally?"
He lets Spot think about that.
"Now more than ever we need to come together, what with Jack--the face of the strike--gone," Race continues. "Tomorrow! Tomorrow night we can get everyone together. You and me and anyone else who wants to speak, we can speak to anyone who's willing to come keep striking with us. If...if you like it, that is."
Spot nods slowly, playing with the idea.
Race swallows. His heart is beating fast. What will Spot think of it? Is it just another one of Race's wild ideas to be dismissed and forgotten?
"I think that that's the best thing I've heard since Medda sang," Spot answers finally.
Race is instantly relieved. And now he's excited. "Medda's real great, isn't she?" He springs up.
Spot gets up too. "Yep-"
"And she can sing tomorrow night too! And it'll be just like before!" his tongue flicks out-in. "But now, it's gonna be different, because you know, everything's changed, but still! We can't have a band play, I've learned that, but still-"
"Race, slow down," Spot laughs. Race closes his mouth. Spot shakes his head. "No, no, I didn't say stop. You know, it's cute when you go on that." If he could, Spot would see to it that Race would always be excited like that. Spot wants to follow every single one of those ever changing directions that Race's mind goes in. He loves the way Race's eyes light up, the way he gets taller with each new thought, how his hands are moving around wildly, the way his voice raises when he's super excited, and every little thing he does. How happy he gets when he talks about something he's truly interested in. Spot loves it so much.
Did Spot just say that something Race did was cute? Race blushes a little and looks down. That's a new one.
Spot grins. Then, he decides, "tonight I'll have my newsies spread the word to all the boroughs."
"I'll go to some of 'em myself too. Run it by the Manhattan newsies as well."
"Great. Between us, we can probably get to everyone. Tell them that tomorrow night we're meeting at Irving Hall for a rally they don't want to miss."
"Great!" Race hugs Spot. "Thank you! This is going to be amazing! Nothing like anything anyone has ever seen before!"
"Yeah," Spot agrees, hugging Race back.. Nothing like anything anyone has ever seen before.
Jack sits alone in the room where Weasel left him. He wants to go up on the roof. Or just...a roof. But he's stuck. He's stuck in these new clothes, this room, this new direction. He traded one trapped future for another. And he likes this one a lot less.
"I did it, Ray," he whispers. "I did the one thing I said I would never do. I let Race down. I left him. I messed up so bad, you're gonna have to be mad at me." But you aren't here to get mad at me.
He's all alone. In his new unforgiving surroundings in the night, Jack is utterly, completely alone.
What have I done?
Like all chapters, there was some good, there was some bad. Pretty much all of it was different variations of bad haha. And yes, that last little bit at the end with Jack was necessary.
This was not meant to be this long haha. *sigh*
One thing I did like writing was that bit between Spot and Race.
So a lot of the things Race did when he shut down was what I would do. For the convenience of this story, though, it didn't take Race forever-forever to start talking again. The hand thing, though? I do that. I described it as best as I could in here. I'm not entirely sure why I like it so much. But it helps. And just writing this and writing Spot just silently sitting with him letting him play with his hands just made me get all warm and fuzzy inside because I want someone who will let me play with their hands like that when I need it. Like how before Spot, Race remembers he would only really play with Ray's hands, I normally just occasionally play with my parents' hands. And through it all, there's no talking. Just a feeling of closeness to the person, and a sense of peace.
When Race gets super excited about his idea about the rally, he went through all the motions I do haha. I've been told that I'm cute/adorable when I do something like that. And when Race was totally fumbling for words I was kinda just typing words and rearranging them in a way that wouldn't entirely make sense unless you follow Race's train of thought (which like mine is always switching between tracks at lightning speed), but that's how it is. You just need to find the people who find it endearing and want to hear more of it.
When Race yells at Jack in the movie and Les is like "he's fooling them" Race and Spot are just like "yep. course." and start patting him on the shoulder and bring him closer to them. They are both so good with little kids.
Not to mention Race and Spot in that scene was another source of evidence for Sprace haha.
Now about Race's rally. Now do you see why I had the first one on July 21st? To build up to this one on the actual day? I am sooo excited to write it. Yeah, I know, in history, movie, or musical, there wasn't a second rally. But this is my story, and the way I'm writing it, there are two rallies. I'm so excited to write it! :)
Please, no homophobia, profanities, hate etc in the comment section at all times.
Best,
~Your Beloved Author (who is listening to Lorde's new album right now)