DREAM MAKER, HEART BREAKER
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Tears and blood and sweat streamed down her face – a big difference from where she had been the previous night. Honestly, she should have expected this kind of reaction from Wiesel, from the Delancey brothers, and from the police. No one liked disorder, no one liked to make change, even if it were needed. That was something Scar knew, and it didn't matter that she didn't like it. It was the truth. It was just going to get harder after this, but she had to believe it would be good for something.
She had to believe that her words, her words and Jack's, would make a difference. She had to.
Once she recovered enough, breathing evenly again, wiping the sweat and tears and blood off of her face with her cap, she started to walk through the night, kept in the shadows to avoid being seen. Her steps were slow, but she knew where she was going. As the lodging house came into view, she felt a warm breeze fly across the night, only adding to the emptiness of the streets. The lodging house was desolate as she made her way inside. She figured the other newsies must have been too spooked to come back, fearing that they'd be found and dragged to The Refuge.
Scar was afraid of that, too, but she hoped that because it looked empty, if the police did come to search, they'd not think anyone would be on the rooftop, which is where she was headed. She climbed the stairs, making her way through the hallways, finally to the fire escape, where she stopped, hearing someone pacing and crying out in frustration.
[Jack]
Folks, we finally got our headline
"Newsies Crushed as Bulls Attack"
Crutchie's calling me
Dumb crip's just too damn slow
It was Jack, and he was upset, understandably.
Guys are fightin', bleedin', fallin'
Thanks to good ole' Captain Jack
Captain Jack just wants to close his eyes and go!
Jack looked out at the city, and Scar kept herself hidden away from the little window on the fire escape, hoping he didn't see her. She would normally run to comfort him, but he seemed fairly inconsolable at the moment.
Let me go
Far away
Somewhere they won't ever find me, and tomorrow won't remind me of today
And the city's finally sleepin'
And the moon looks old and grey
I get on a train that's bound for Santa Fe
Of course, for him, it always came back to Santa Fe. Scar didn't want to believe that he would just give up and throw in the towel as soon as something unfortunate happened. She wanted to believe that he would stick it out, stand together, with the rest of the newsies, like he said he would.
And I'm gone
And I'm done
No more running. No more lying
No more fat old man denying me my pay
Just a moon so big and yellow, it turns night right into day
Dreams come true.
Yeah, they do. In Santa Fe
Didn't anything in New York matter to him? Didn't Scar matter to him? Put aside what she knew she felt for him deep inside, she just wanted him to care about her – how could he not, after everything they had been through?
Where does it say you gotta live and die here?
Where does it say a guy can't catch a break?
Why should you only take what you're given?
Why should you spend your whole life living trapped where there ain't no future
Even at seventeen!
Breaking your back for someone else's sake!
If the life don't seem to suit you, how about a change of scene?
Far from the lousy headlines, and the deadlines in between
No future – those words hit Scar straight in the heart. Maybe she was stupid to believe that Jack would one day wake up and share those same, buried feelings with her. Maybe she was stupid to believe he would choose her, choose the newsies, choose New York over Santa Fe – the seeds of a dream, not what you would call a plan.
Santa Fe, my old friend
I can't spend my whole life dreaming
Though I know that's all I seem inclined to do
I ain't getting any younger
And I wanna start brand new
Brand new – he didn't want to remember anyone back in New York after he left. He was going to leave everyone behind – he was going to leave Scar behind – and as she thought about it, tears sprang into her eyes, her lips trembling at the thought.
I need space. And fresh air
Let 'em laugh in my face. I don't care
Save my place, I'll be there
Scar didn't want to be abandoned again. It was bad enough when her own parents left her in the road like garbage, only for her to be taken in by a neglectful orphanage. She and Jack had been through so much she wanted to believe it all meant something to him – more than his dream of Santa Fe.
Just be real is all I'm asking
Not some painting in my head
Cause I'm dead if I can't count on you today
I got nothing if I ain't got Santa Fe
The dam broke and tears flooded out of Scar's doe eyes, down her face, over the cut on her lip, stinging the torn flesh with its hot, salty contents. Shoving her hand over her mouth, she ran from the fire escape, down the stairs inside the lodging house and out into the night. When she was on the street, she finally let herself break down, collapsing to her knees and sobbing after everything she had just gone through and heard.
Jack would leave if given the chance.
He would abandon her.
He was ready to give up after one day of the strike – she couldn't believe it, and yet here it was.
Right in front of her.
Santa Fe mattered more to him than the fight against Pulitzer.
It mattered more to him than, well, her.
She glanced up at the sky as her tears ran down her face. A clear navy pressed around the world, with spots of golden, glimmering starlight shining brightly, and of course, the silvery moon, full and casting a glow over the street. A strip of the white light shone down like a spotlight, the uneven pavement causing a rippling effect to appear, and for a moment, Scar believed she was looking at the moon over a river.
She shook her head – right now, she couldn't even count on the moon to tell her the truth. To be there for her the way it always promised.
[Scar]
Moon river
Wider than a mile
Scar picked herself up off the ground and started to walk along the shining street.
I'm crossing you in style
Someday
She didn't know where she was going, just that she couldn't be at the lodging house.
Oh, dream maker
You heart breaker
She couldn't face Jack after what she'd heard. It hurt too much to know that everything he was saying was the truth.
Moon river
And me
She was alone, continuing down the street, leaving her shattered heart behind. Her feet carried her somewhere, a place she'd only seen briefly the previous day as she was walking to her selling spot, and only because Davey had pointed it out to her.
Taking a breath as she climbed the stairs to the modest apartment, she wondered if Davey was even home, but taking her chances, she did it anyway. Raising her fist, she knocked against the wooden door. A few minutes passed, and Scar figured she should take that as her cue to leave. She turned, ready to step down the stairs again and find somewhere else to crash for the night, but as she did, the door squeaked open.
"Scar?" Davey asked from behind her.
Turning back around, she hung her head, keeping her eyes on the ground as she played with the cap in her hands, wringing it and molding it between her fingers. Lips trembling, tears brewing, she managed to get out, "I didn't know where else to go."
---
Les had been passed out for a few hours, according to Davey, and as Scar sat on the window sill in Sarah's bedroom, she envied the little boy. She was exhausted, but she couldn't sleep – her mind wouldn't shut off and let her.
Davey's family had been welcoming, far too welcoming for some no-good newsie who had roped their educated son into a strike. Mayer and Esther were pleased to have a guest, but the latter had been horrified to see the state that Scar was in – tears, sweat, and blood all over her face, a busted lip and bruised cheek with dirtied clothes and grime all over her body.
Sarah, Davey's sister, had flown right into action as soon as she had assessed Scar, helping her wash up and change into a clean set of clothes while they set her street attire to the side to launder with the rest of their things tomorrow. Really, Scar hadn't expected much from the Jacobs family, but they'd done far more than she could ever thank them for.
Scar's hands played with the soft fabric of the nightgown Sarah had lent her – it was far softer than anything she had ever had the pleasure of owning, and yet, the fabric felt wrong against her skin. She couldn't explain it, but she wasn't as comfortable in it as she had thought she might be. She leaned her head against the window frame, her eyes trained on the moon, as it always was, wishing that she could be as carefree as it always seemed to be.
"Hey," came Sarah's soft voice from the door. Scar turned, looking at the older girl. "Mama's just about finished washing up in the kitchen. Are you sure you don't want anything else?"
The Jacobs family had already given Scar much more than she needed. A warm meal, water, and even a bit of cake left over from the night before, as it had been Mayer's birthday.
"I'm good," Scar assured her with a nod. "Thanks."
Sarah smiled and moved into the room completely, and Scar noted the stacks of books in her hands. They ranged in size and length, but piqued Scar's interest as Sarah made her way over to the window, setting them down on the sill just beside the girl newsies. Brows drawn, Scar picked up the book laying on top, the cover faded and torn so much she couldn't tell what it was called.
"What are these?" Scar asked Sarah, flipping through the pages of the book, much softer than the rough newsprint she carried every day.
"Sometimes when I'm upset, I like to read," Sarah explained with a small shrug. "It takes my mind off of things."
"That was nice of ya, but –" Scar slowly, setting the book on her lap as Sarah picked another one off of the pile, revealing a titled book underneath that drew Scar's interest. "What's this one?"
The cover showed a sketch of the circular disk she enjoyed looking at whenever she could, up in the sky when shrouded by nightfall.
"The Truth About the Moon," Sarah read off the cover. "Oh, it's a really interesting book!" She took it from the pile and opened it. "It has everything that we know about the moon in it."
Despite her glum nature, Scar sat up a bit straight, gesturing to the book in Sarah's hands. "Could I see it?" she asked, quite timidly.
Sarah nodded, handing the open book to Scar. She looked over the entries, detailing facts about the lovely little sphere Scar loved so much, but some of the words were too hard for her to understand. She learned some stuff, but when she ran away from the orphanage, she also ran away from schooling.
"What, uh...what does this mean?" Scar asked Sarah quietly, pointing to a sentence she couldn't quite understand.
"The moon is a natural satellite of earth," Sarah read off. "A natural satellite is an astronomical body that orbits a planet."
"The moon's thousands of miles away from here, right?" Scar questioned, though she did know that. She just wanted to be sure she had the facts.
"Right," Sarah agreed. "There's no water, no life, no atmosphere. Just a lonely little rock floating alongside its big brother, earth."
"And it's the same size no matter where you are," Scar stated, knowing that that was a true and good statement.
Sarah nodded. "Yes," she agreed. "I think it looks bigger depending on what's around you. In New York, people say it looks smaller because of all the buildings pointing to the sky. But in an open field, it probably looks a thousand times bigger."
An open field – like Santa Fe.
Immediately, Scar's stomach dropped and the tears returned to her eyes. She didn't want Sarah to see, or to have her think she caused them in anyway, so she turned back to the moon outside the window.
"It has a Latin name, too," Sarah continued obliviously, and Scar wanted it that way. "Luna."
Scar smiled, blinking away the tears in her eyes. "It, uh, it sounds like a...lovely name," she said quietly, clearing her throat.
"Sarah," another voice called from the doorway, and Scar didn't have to turn around to know that it was Davey. "Ma needs your help with something."
Offering Scar a smile, Sarah got up from the window and made her way to the doorway of the room. Davey approached Scar from behind, she could tell by the sound of his footsteps. He took Sarah's spot next to Scar and she closed her eyes, allowing a flood of tears to fall down her face.
"How's your lip?" Davey asked gently and Scar wiped away her tears, sniffling.
"Oh, uh, it's...it's good," she replied, using her wrist to wipe her nose. "Just stings a little is all." She looked over at him, repeatedly blinking so that her vision could clear. He didn't seem to have many injuries aside from a little bruise underneath his jaw from Morris. Still, Scar gestured to the same spot on her own face. "What about you?"
Davey shook his head. "It's fine, hurts less than I thought it would honestly," he answered.
"Well that's good..." Scar trailed off, wishing that everything could hurt a lot less than it did.
"Hey, Scar," Davey started, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "I know it's a pretty dumb question to ask after today, but are you okay?"
Scar shook her head, bringing her bottom lip into her mouth even though it spread pain all the way through her chin and jaw. Her lips trembled again, a cottony lump forming in her throat as her eyes burned.
"You know we can't give up, right?" Scar asked in reply, not directly answering Davey's question. "One day ain't enough to show 'em we mean business."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Davey agreed with a nod.
Scar hiccupped, licking her lips. "I don't think Jack does," she whispered. In her peripheral vision, she saw Davey's brow crease in question. Again, she dodged the nonverbal question, instead shrugging, "I guess I just thought after everythin'..."
"Everything?" Davey inquired softly.
"The Refuge," Scar replied after a moment. Tears brewed in her eyes again. Even just the mere thought of explaining what led to her becoming a newsie made her want to cry, because no one should ever have to experience that, but she knew she couldn't go on without letting people know how she got where she was. "I was abandoned as a baby. I don't know what happened, just that my folks – or one of 'em – tossed me into the street. I was found and taken to an orphanage, but it wasn't the best place. None of the workers really cared about us kids. The only good thing was we got to go to school." Scar dropped her eyes down to her hands. "I loved school, I loved learnin', but I couldn't stay in that place any longer. I was thirteen when I ran away, decided livin' on the street was better than livin' in a place where no one cares about you." She shrugged, shaking her head. "Livin' on the street ain't as easy as it seems, though. You gotta do a lot of things you never thought you would. Snyder caught me stealin' food to survive and brought me to The Refuge when I was fourteen."
"That's how you met Jack," Davey pieced together, and Scar nodded her response.
"We sat in the carriage together on our way there," Scar continued with a sad chuckle. "That's how we became friends." She sighed, blowing air out of her teeth. "But The Refuge ain't a pretty place. Kids are all over, some dyin' of disease, others stavin'. Little kids – some younger than Les. And I couldn't stand it. The kitchens always had more food than they said they did, so I started sneakin' down there, stealin' some to give to the kids. And when Snyder found out..." She trailed off for a moment, eyes unfocused as her mind started to replay the memory, the sound around her fading out. It happened whenever she thought about that day, becoming detached from the reality she was living in, an effort to remove herself from it all.
A hand on her arm snapped her out of it. "Scar, are you okay?"
Davey. Of course. She released a breath, nodding her head. "Uh, yeah...sorry, that happens sometimes," she told him, swallowing thickly. She focused now on her hands, grounding herself in reality as she resumed her story. "When Snyder found out, he was angry. Angry because I was stealin' again, but from him." Scar sat up straighter, positioning herself so that she was looking at Davey head-on. "And as punishment, he did this."
With a shaking hand, she pushed the hair away from the right side of her face, the side she always made sure was curtained so that no one could see. Davey's eyes went wide as he observed what Scar was showing him. A long, jagged, raised line of skin, the edges outlined in pink, from right above her right eyebrow, down the length of her face, stopping just above her jawline.
Davey sat silently, just looking at the scar on the girl's face. He didn't say anything, mostly because he probably didn't know what he could say. Scar didn't blame him either, it would be a hard sight for anyone to take in.
"Beatin' me, hurtin' me, it wasn't enough for Snyder," Scar continued. "He told me I'd be lucky, if I ever got out, to find someone who'd look at me like I meant somethin'. That I probably couldn't even make a livin' selling myself." The memory of Snyder's words caused Scar to shudder, starting at the base of her spine and following up to the back of her neck. "Jack was the one to clean up the blood and the cut, and I...I couldn't stop shakin', or cryin', and he held me that night, hopin' it would make me feel safe. And that was the night that he vowed that the next chance we got to escape, we'd take it. And when we did, he introduced me to the newsies, gave me a job – a family." Scar's eyes filled with tears again. "I thought maybe everythin' we'd been through meant more to him than Santa Fe, but I guess I was wrong. Santa Fe's always mattered to him more."
As she said her final words, she shrugged, letting the tears fall down her face. Davey placed his hand over her own, squeezing it tightly as a show of comfort. "I'm sorry," he said softly, to which she shrugged again. "That's how you got your nickname, isn't it? Scar?"
"Jack gave it to me a few days after it happened," she explained with a nod. "I think he was tryin' to make me feel better, you know? Make somethin' good outta somethin' bad."
Davey nodded, raising his hand to rest against her shoulder. "Get some rest, Scar," he told her. "We've got a lot more work to do."
She shook her head in agreement, and raised her lips into a thin line, attempting a smile, but it was the best she could do at the moment. He got up and left her alone in Sarah's bedroom, with nothing but her thoughts, and as she looked to the window, the moon.
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how this chapter feels:
whew this was a heavy chapter but now we know how scar got her actual scar, and her nickname.
time for an intermission 🤩 and then comes act two