The Sea of Waking Dreams

by Juliet Benson

I dropped my head and sighed, rubbing my fingers over my forehead. Then I looked up into the fresh faces of the few newsies with me. My eyes went to and memorized each one individually. Racetrack, chewing nervously on his cigar. Skittery, true as they come, despite his doubts. Mush, naïve and innocent as a child. Kid Blink, with the enthusiastic eyes and smile that never ran out.

And David. Finally, David. Our eyes met and held for a long moment, before I broke away and stood up. They followed me with their eyes, desperate eyes.

"I’m letting you go," I said. A protest rang up from the group and I held up my hands to stop it. "I can’t let you all die here, like this." Again they began to talk in earnest.

"Shut up!" I yelled, slightly panicked. They did so instantly. "I don’t like this any more than any of you do. But if there’s a chance to save your lives, I’ll take it, no matter what."

"But what about you, Jack?" Racetrack asked. The others voiced their agreement. I noticed David wasn’t participating, standing quiet and still.

"It’s my fight. Let it be."

"No, Jack, it’s all our fight." This time it was Skittery.

"Be that as it may, I’m the leader. It’s my responsibility to see you out safety." Mush looked upset.

"Jack, we’re not going to let you lose your life!" I strode over to him and grasped his arms in an almost painful grip.

"You have no choice. Make it worthwhile. When you get out of here, don’t stop. Don’t become complacent, and don’t put up with the injustice in the world. Fight back! That’s the most important gift you can give me." For me, this was pretty deep. The newsies exchanged a look. None of them liked it, I could tell, but there were finally beginning to see they couldn’t bargain with me. We were in a museum in the Manhattan part of New York. Outside, the bulls were waiting to take us down. Waiting to take me down. Snyder was no doubt out there with them, that predatory gleam in his eye. They wanted my blood. There was another part to my escape story I hadn’t told Davey, or anyone. On my way out, an elderly guard had been wounded. In the hospital, after a few weeks, he had died. The doctors said it was going to happen anyway, regardless of me, but there was no way Snyder was going to let that tidbit of information stop him. In his mind, it was me who had killed the bull, and he was going to see me pay.

The newsies were now shifting uncomfortably and looking lost. That fact twisted my heart. I knew it was time to say goodbye to them, and my throat clogged. David hadn’t moved from his spot, he just stood there, watching me. Waiting for me to take charge. I cleared my throat. Twice.

"I have been privileged to know you guys, and you all have made my life better. I wish you all well." I walked up to Racetrack and hugged him tightly.

"Keep on trying, you’re sure to win sometime." I whispered, releasing him. His face was twisted, like he was trying to keep it relaxed.

"Thanks Cowboy," it came out choked, and he clapped me on the shoulder before hurrying out. Mush had tears in his eyes, and it was he who pulled me close. I finished saying goodbye to my friends in a daze. I said something to each of them, though I’m not really sure what. I know there were tears running down my face by the time I was done. They all had snuck out the back, and were swallowed by the night, not to be found by the vultures out front.

Finally, it was just David and me, staring at each other. Looking at him, I surfaced from my haze, like coming up from underwater. Only to confront the storm that ravaged the sea.

"You must be crazy." David said. It was the first thing he’d said to me in hours.

"Probably," I agreed, suddenly tired. I held out my arms and reached for him. He jerked away from me.

"No," he said forcibly. I dropped my arms, hurt, but trying not to show it.

"No?" I repeated, stupidly. David crossed his arms over his chest.

"No, I’m not going to say goodbye because I’m not leaving you." he said fiercely. I sighed.

"David-"

"No," he cut me off. "I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t want to hear it. I’ve made up my mind." I was suddenly intensely angry with him, for his nobility and strength, both oh so much stronger than mine, and I grabbed his shoulders and shook him, hard.

"Think about this Davey!" I yelled at him, gripping him so hard my knuckles were white. "Think! Think about your family! Think about your life! I’m not going to let you throw it all away for something so trivial as me!" He shoved me back, and I fell down.

"You can’t stop me," he yelled back. "I’ve made up my mind. I’ve thought it all through, and I know what I have to do." I got up from the floor. "You’re always saying that although I may be a mouth, I have a brain. You’ve trusted me before, why can’t you trust me now?"

"Because this is different," I shot back. "This is your life we’re talking about here. If it was just a matter of mine, I’d trust you unwaveringly, but I can’t with something that means so much to me." I think I made him nonplused, but I saw I hadn’t changed his mind. There was no way I could reach him, no way I could make him go.

"You can’t stop me," he finally repeated.

"I can and I will," I replied, in a voice just as low as his. "If I have to carry you out of here myself, I will."

"I might just let you," he retorted. "Then you will be out of danger, too."

"Davey, I’ll never be out of danger, as long as Snyder is here. As long as I’m on the streets. As long as I’m living. At least now I have a chance to make something of my life, to do something worthwhile. If I leave now, and live to be 80, but don’t show the world something, what good is it? If I die now and make them hear me, I’ll have lived more than most people." David looked defeated for a second.

"I’m staying," he said in a soft voice.

"Think of Les," I said. He flinched. Then looked up defiantly.

"What about what you just said? Can’t that be applied to me as well?" I ran a hand through my hair in exasperation. Why wouldn’t he listen?

"You’ve got a chance, you’ve got a family, and an education. You can go places, and do things."

"Not without you," he sounded desperate now.

"Davey, let me go." I held out my arms again. "You were the best friend I’ve ever had. I-"

"No," he cut me off again, precariously, trying to stop the words. We looked at each other, and our breathing filled the room. I was surprised to see we were both crying. And then I didn’t know what to do. In all my life, I’d never felt as lost as I did in that moment. I turned away from him, trying to gather my thoughts, to rally my decision to make him leave, but it was all gone, blown away like feathers in the wind. I felt like a shell, like a dried up outer covering with nothing inside.

"Do what you want," I muttered.

"What?" he asked, slowly, like he wasn’t sure he had won.

"Do what you want," I spat out again. "If you want to throw away one of the best things the world could ever have, then…" I broke off, crying too hard. And then David’s arms were around me, pulling me tightly to him and he was comforting me.

"David," I said, sadly. "I’m scared to die."

It’s a weird feeling, being shot. When the first bullet hit me, the force of it jerked me back. Pain exploded, worse than anything I’d felt before. Another one caught me in the stomach, and I was down. I saw Davey get hit, and that hurt worse than anything else. He fell to his knees, then forward.

I must have hit my head at some point, because blood and sweat were mixed together in my eyes and mouth. It tasted like bitter copper. I heard, as though from a distance, the bulls talking. Then Snyder’s voice broke through all else and he was suddenly approaching. One last idea came to my head, and I tried it. I literally had nothing to lose. I closed my eyes and waited. Snyder was over me, then he kicked me sharply in the side. It hurt, by everything, it hurt, but I didn’t react. I few more prods and he was off, convinced I was dead.

Things got a little hazy after that, I wasn’t sure if I passed out or not. Soon the noise died down, and I was alone. Almost. I lifted my head, and an intense throbbing swept over me, so great the world tilted and spots covered my vision. I waited, and when the pain ebbed to a duller pounding, I moved. I started dragging myself toward David, to where he was lying.

Every inch was shear torture, like a giant cat repeatedly ripping it’s nails into my side and stomach. My blood mixed into the dirt on the cement outside the museum, leaving a trail behind me. I tried to block out as much pain as I could, not allowing myself to think of anything besides placing one shaking hand in front of the other. My body was trembling violently from exhaustion and pain, and my hands were torn and bloody from clawing at the rough pavement. I set my eyes on my stained hands, watching the fingers dig hopelessly into the artificial ground. It seemed forever, but finally I caught sight of David. This renewed my efforts and soon I was at his side.

Panting, with sweat and blood clogging my vision, I looked back at my path. I was soundly shocked when I saw I had traveled but seven feet. Because of my slow speed, I had left a continual pool of blood behind me. Turning back around I concentrated on Davey.

I relaxed so I was lying next to him, then reached down and took his warm hand in my ragged, cold, bleeding one. I was surprised to see his eyes open and fix on me; I had thought him already dead. If I had any room left for fear, I probably would have felt it. It hurt me to know he was dying slowly, in pain, as I was. I tried to smile, my mouth trembling, but didn’t get very far. There was blood seeping from the corner of Davey’s mouth, and a large scrape on his cheek from where he hit the ground, but other than that his face seemed alright. There was nothing really to say, no words that could pass between us could do justice to this moment.

We laid there for a while, how long, I don’t know, staring at each other. Finally, I wet my lips and managed to say:

"Forgive me," it came out quiet and disjointed, but Davey instantly shook his head.

"Nothing to," his eyelids flickered and I knew it was close. I gritted my teeth and moved closer to him, trying to share some warmth before he left. If nothing else, I’d share blood. I tightened my grip on his hand, and though his face didn’t move, I saw him smile.

He looked different, but not really. The light was gone from his eyes, and his face lax, but he looked peaceful. I was happy for him. Sighing, then wincing, I rested my head on his shoulder and waited.

I thought. I looked back over my life. It had never been easy, and it took a long time to overcome many things. My betrayal of my friends showed that. I realized now, that I had beat the past demons when I had returned to my true family; my newsies. I had conquered and prevailed a part of my that had remained mostly hidden. I was proud of that. My thoughts moved past personal, and went to universal.

Would this matter? Would people hear? I didn’t know, and suddenly, I was very afraid. Then I looked up at David’s relaxed face, and that fear ebbed. Even if the world didn’t hear, I knew some people would. Racetrack, Mush, Kid Blink, and Skittery would tell the story, and some people would understand. It was enough.

I could feel myself dying, and it was odd. Soon they would come and take our bodies away, and try to hide us from the world. But it’s hard to hide the truth. My breath was becoming shallow, and my head was going light from lack of oxygen. My body was heavy, and my heart beat was slowing gradually. My lashes fluttered down and touched my cheeks. I was dying in the arms of an angel, I knew, and I was happy. Death didn’t scare me anymore. Maybe I had overcome that as well.