"Aw, shut up, Callahan!" Circus Monahan said with a laugh, ruffling Marbles Callahan's hair.
Marbles glared at the slightly older newsboy as she smoothed her hair back down. "Do ya always have to do that?"
Circus grinned at her. "Nah…I have to do this!" With that, he started tickling her mercilessly.
"Circus!" Marbles squealed, trying desperately to wriggle out of his grasp. "Leggo! Now!" But Circus would have none of it. Soon, he had the smaller girl turned upside down and tossed over his shoulder. "Put me down!"
Circus considered her order. "Okay. Ah…you're stupid. And ugly."
"That's not what I meant!" she shrieked. "You put me back on the sidewalk right now, or so help me God…"
Injun rolled his eyes. Every day, the walk back from Nora's was like this. After selling and lunch, the two of them set forth on irritating one another. Despite the territory troubles and the possible closing of their lodging house, some things never changed. "Monahan, let her down." Injun said with a sigh. "And Marbles, stop screaming."
"Oh, fine." Circus said, setting Marbles back on her feet. "There ya go."
Marbles grumbled a bit more, brushing herself off and pausing occasionally to glare at Circus.
"Oh, shit."
Marbles looked up sharply at the sound of Circus' mutter. "What?"
"Trouble." Injun said grimly.
It was trouble of the worst kind, direct from North Wing. Knife West, Drunk McRae and Chain Kuykendall were coming down the street, headed straight for them. Somehow it seemed unlikely that they wanted to invite them to tea.
There had always been problems with North Wing. Trips Criminara's territory bordered Central Washington to the north, so there'd always been the odd squabble over selling spots now and then. Cricket Jernigan, Central's leader, usually managed to work things out somehow, though.
Lately, though, things had been considerably worse. Since they got word that some of the lodging houses were closing, there had hardly been a day that someone didn't come home bruised up. It had reached the point that none of the Central newsies went anywhere alone, especially the girls.
"Shit." Circus muttered. He knew they couldn't take those three. Hell, they couldn't take Chain by himself.
"Guys, let's just get outta here." Marbles said. The three North Wing boys were getting closer, and she knew they didn't have a chance.
"I ain't goin' anywhere." Injun replied stubbornly. "This is our territory." Injun was right…but Cricket liked to avoid trouble as much as possible.
"Good afternoon!" Chain shouted, a cold smirk on his face. It didn't look like avoiding trouble was going to be an option today.
"You guys seem to be on the wrong end of town today." Drunk continued, grinning. Knife West remained silent, just staring at them.
Marbles glared back at them. "We're on our end of town. Your territory's three blocks over, and if you don't get back to it, there's gonna be trouble." There was going to be a fight anyway…she might as well keep her pride intact.
"Yeah…" Chain said nonchalantly, "…for you." He didn't speak another word — he just swung the chain hard, going for Marbles' face. She managed to dodge a little bit, catching the metal on her shoulder instead. As soon as Chain made his swing, the other two lost no time in going after their targets. Drunk took a shot at Circus while Knife went for Injun.
Circus was strong and fast — he took Drunk McRae down without too much trouble. The taller newsboy was too slow to pose much of a threat unarmed. Unfortunately, he was the only one of the three who was unarmed. Circus knew he needed to help Marbles with Chain, and quickly.
She was already down, bleeding and lying in the dirt. Circus was furious. Territory fighting was one thing…but you didn't do it armed, and you sure as hell didn't go after smaller and weaker kids just because you could. "All right, Kuykendall. So you can kick a sixteen year old girl's ass. Good job."
Chain turned around, a feral smile on his face. "C'mere, Monahan." He said, swinging the chain around. "I've been waitin' to do this for a long time." Circus stepped close enough to get a shot in at Chain. This was a stupid fight to get into — but he had to get Chain away from Marbles. The younger girl couldn't take another hit.
Circus dodged the first of Chain's swings and grinned brightly at him. "You're losin' your touch, Kuykendall!" Another swing, another jump to the side. Get him mad and he can't aim worth shit. "In a bad mood?" Circus asked cheerfully, ducking the chain again. "What seems to be the problem? Not gettin' any lately?"
"Shut the hell up, Monahan!" Chain wasn't any good with insults. He was dumb as a brick, in fact.
"I know it's gotta be tough, being a dumb brick like yourself." Circus continued.
Get him mad and he can't aim.
How's Injun doin'?
"Shut up!"
Shit, he's down…bleedin' all over the place…
Keep talkin'…get him good and mad so you can find an opening.
"Shut UP, Monahan!" That one connected hard with Circus' shoulder.
Keep it up…you've almost got 'im.
Circus smirked at him. "You oughta ask your mom…I hear she's accomadatin'." Yes, that was it…the last straw. Circus could see it in his eyes. Time to get to running.
But he saw the change too late. The chain came flying at his face, fast and hard. Before he knew it, Circus Monahan was crashing to the ground, unconscious. Chain wasn't done yet, though. He was furious, and Monahan was going to pay. "Not talkin' so much now, are ya?" He said with a smirk, swinging the chain toward Circus' head again. It dragged across his cheek, leaving a nasty cut. "Ain't gonna be so pretty no more, either." He was about to take another swing when someone caught his arm.
It was Knife. "Chain, we gotta get outta here. Now."
"What?" Chain asked. The three Central kids were down. Nothing to worry about.
"We killed 'em, Chain." Knife whispered. The look in his eyes was pure anguish. There'd been fights before, even fights with weapons…but this had never happened.
Chain blinked. "Dammit." He looked down at Monahan. The boy wasn't moving. Over to his left, Injun was lying silent on the sidewalk. Marbles Callahan was at the very least unconscious. "Criminara's gonna have a fit."
Knife gaped at him. "We just killed two kids and all you can think of is Criminara!?" Knife was stunned by the blank look Chain gave him. He'd occasionally suspected that Chain was completely without a conscience…but he'd never had it proven before. "C'mon, let's go before cops get here."
Cops were something Chain understood. "Right." Chain said with a curt nod. He gave McRae a sharp kick. "Wake up, jerk."
"Shit, Kuykendall, what'd ya do that for?" Drunk said, dragging himself to his feet.
Knife rolled his eyes. "C'mon, we're gettin' out of here, now." He said, already starting to walk north. The other two followed silently, never looking back.
Slowly, she dragged herself over to where Injun lay on the sidewalk. Knife had torn him up badly. "Injun?" Marbles asked quietly. "Injun, can ya hear me? C'mon, man, wake up." She nudged him a little, but still there was no answer. Staring at his chest, she saw no signs of breathing — just cuts and stabs everywhere. Tears began to run down her face. "Injun, please…" Still, he didn't answer. His body was already going cold. Marbles glanced around, trying to find Circus.
She found him quickly, just a few feet away. Marbles scrambled over to him, shaking his shoulder. "Circus, c'mon!" she cried out through her sobs. "Injun's dead. We gotta go home, now!" But Circus Monahan didn't stir. "Circus?" Marbles whispered. Panic set in. Marbles was alone on the street corner, it was getting dark, and two of her best friends were dead. Between her hysteria and pain, the only thing she could think of to do was to run.
Marbles ran until she was out of breath and then kept running. She didn’t stop until she reached the door of the newly closed Central Washington Newsies’ Lodging House. “Cricket!” she cried out desperately.
Cricket Jernigan was the leader of the Central Washington newsies. He was calm, laid-back, and reasonable, the one who always knew what to do. With the house closing, he’d spent the past few weeks finding places for the kids of Central to go and trying to keep trouble with North Wing to a minimum. Now, it seemed that he’d failed in his second goal.
Marbles couldn’t keep herself together enough to get the story out clearly. The minute she opened her mouth, she began to cry again. “Circus…”she began, tears streaming down her face. “…and Injun…they…”
“Whoa…” Cricket said, standing and going over to her. “Calm down, Marbles. What’re you talkin’ about?”
The harder she tried to control herself, the harder she cried. “Chain an’ Knife…an’ Drunk…” she tried to explain, “…they jumped us…an’ they…an’ they…”
Army Radcliff walked over from where he’d been listening, placing his hands on Marbles’ shoulders. “Callahan, you gotta calm down.” he said quietly. “We can’t understand ya.” Army was Cricket’s second, a former North Wing boy who could probably soak half the town at once. He was generally quiet, never speaking unless it was necessary, counting few friends and few enemies.
Marbles leaned into Army’s shoulder. “They killed ‘em!” she sobbed. “They killed ‘em.” She continued to cry and cling to Army through all the exclamations that followed. She never heard the whimpering of the smallest kids, or the whispers of the older ones. Soon Marbles was giving her broken explanation of the evening’s events to the stunned newsies. Most of their responses never registered; she was too caught in her own emotions. But there was one response she remembered and would doubtless remember for the rest of her life. When Marbles finally looked up from Army’s shoulder, she immediately searched out one person in the crowd: Cajun Porche.
Cajun was easy enough to find. Her fair skin, dark hair, and violet eyes stood out in any crowd. Those eyes were filled with pain, beginning to well up with tears. “No.” she whispered. “No.” David Monahan had been her salvation, the person who had taught her to trust and love again. He’d made her laugh when she didn’t believe she had any laughter left in her. He couldn’t be dead. It was impossible.
“Why don’tcha ever laugh?” Circus asked the quiet Louisiana native.
Cajun shrugged delicately. “Got no reason to.”
He grinned brightly at her. “We’re just gonna hafta fix that, then.”
He’d set out make her laugh at every turn, doing everything from trying to juggle apples to setting frogs loose on Mari Coulter. Soon, the girl who never laughed found herself smiling all the time. For the first time in a very long time, she was happy. Madeleine Porche couldn’t remember the last time she’d been really truly happy. And now…now it was all being taken away.
Cricket was the one who finally had the presence of mind to talk to Cajun. He was good at putting other people before himself. “C’mon, Cajun, why don’tcha sit down.” He said quietly. She nodded numbly, allowing him to lead her to a chair. Dead. He can’t be dead. He’s dead. For a long time, Cajun just stared at the floor, ignoring everyone around her. At last, her thoughts all came out to one phrase. It was quiet, barely audible even to Cricket, who sat right next to her. “What am I going to do?”
When Circus Monahan woke up, he wasn’t Circus Monahan. He wasn’t sure who he was, but he was bloody, dirty, and in more pain than he’d ever imagined. He woke up in a strange room, white and filled with beds. A hospital. That much he knew.
“Look who’s awake!” a cheerful voice chirped from a few beds down. Circus turned to see a pretty young nurse smiling at him. She was blond and blue-eyed, a fresh-faced and natural sort of pretty. “I’d been beginning to worry you wouldn’t wake up at all! You’ve been out cold for a full two days!”
Circus blinked, trying to absorb the information. “I…”
“Maybe now you can tell us your name.” The energetic young woman continued.
It was then that Circus realized he had no idea what his name was. He had no idea where he was. He had no idea why every part of his body hurt, or why his cheek was stitched up. “I…I don’t know.” He said, the confusion clearly written across his face.
The nurse’s face fell. “Oh, no.” she said disappointedly. “That sometimes happens with head injuries, though.” She continued, perking up again. “You’ll probably have your memory back in no time.” Then she laughed, a bubbly sort of sound. “Silly me…I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Nurse Morrison, the nurse in charge of this hall of the hospital.” She blinked, realizing that he wouldn’t know the hospital, either. “George Washington Hospital, that is.”
Circus laughed. “Well, it’s not like there’s another hospital in this town.”
Nurse Morrison beamed. “You know that?” she asked excitedly. “That means your memory isn’t completely gone! You’re certain to get it back, see?”
Circus smiled. The nurse’s optimism was contagious. “Maybe you’re right.”
“You know, we’re going to have to come up with something to call you, until you recall your own name.” She said. “Do you have any ideas?”
Circus paused to consider it. “Gilbert Sullivan.” He said with a grin.
Nurse Morrison laughed. “I think those two are taken!”
“How’s David sound?” he asked. David…David. It felt somehow right. His brow wrinkled, his deep brown eyes dark with thought.
“What is it?” the nurse asked, concerned.
“I think my name is David.” He said, still thinking carefully about it. “David…and something with an M.”
Nurse Morrison immediately went into action, reeling off all the “m” names she could think of. “Morrison? Mulligan? O’Malley?” she asked, watching him for any sign of recognition. “Murdock? Marsden? Melvin?” Still, no response. “Martin? Milton? Monahan? Mc—“
“Monahan!” he shouted, sitting up with a jolt. “David Monahan! That’s it! Ow…” In the middle of his exclamations, he’d worked his jaw just a little too much. “Damn, that hurt.”
Nurse Morrison smiled. “Better take it easy, David. We don’t want you ripping your stitches out before you’ve had time to get all your memories back.”
“Right.” He said with a weak smile. “Take it easy.” He laid back down, trying to get some sleep, but his mind was racing, searching for any signs of memory. It was as though he could feel all his old thoughts in there, but they were just barely out of reach, like they were hiding in fog. As he drifted off, there was one name that seemed to float to the surface. “Madeleine.”
That name would haunt him for weeks, months. Even as he remembered other people, other events, “Madeleine” seemed more important.
First, his early childhood came back. There were long, awful days when he cried for his baby sister and his younger self. Dermot Monahan wasn’t a good man for children to live with. And yet, David cried again when he remembered the man’s death. All these memories were as fresh as though they happened yesterday, rather than years ago. After those earliest memories, random snippets of life with the Central newsies began to resurface. London, the first leader he could remember, was the first person he wasn’t related to that he remembered. It was then that David remembered his old nickname, and tagging along behind the older kids.
But through all of this, he began to obsess about “Madeleine”. He wrote the name over on sheets of paper, whispering it to himself, trying desperately to find the face that went along with the name. It was like he needed to know. David spent day after day searching his mind, sifting through every new memory that resurfaced for any glimpse of “Madeleine”. “Maddy” he managed to draw up one day, then “Cajun”. But nothing more.
“You’ll remember eventually.” Nurse Morrison said consolingly. “After all, so much else has come back. She will, too.”
David held on to Nurse Morrison’s encouraging words. That was the best hope he had. More memories came back every day. Soon, that all-important one would as well.
And come, it did. In a flood, a raging fury of images. Fair skin on a delicate face that seldom smiled; stunning, guarded purple eyes; midnight black hair; a soft voice with a Louisiana accent.
“Never had any reason to laugh.”
“You are something else, David.”
A light laugh.
“Put me down, now!”
“I love you, David.”
“If you don’t stop that, mon cher, I’ll knock that smile right off your face.”
More laughter.
A soft touch.
“I love you.”
David Monahan packed his things that afternoon. “I’ve got to go, Natalie.” He told Nurse Morrison.
She smiled. “You remembered her, didn’t you?” She was happy for him. Natalie Morrison had come to like young David Monahan very much during his stay at the hospital. She would miss his jokes and cheerfulness, but it was good that he could have his life back.
David nodded. “I’ve got to get back to her. God only knows what she might think happened to me.” David was physically healed completely, left only with a scar on his face as a mark of the injuries that had brought him to George Washington Hospital.
“Good luck and God speed, David Monahan.” Nurse Morrison said with a smile.
“Thanks.” He replied with a grin. “And you, too.” And with that, he went packing for the Capitol Hill newsies’ house. Last he’d heard, Central was closing, so that wasn’t a likely place to look. At Capitol, though, someone was bound to know what had happened.
Brooklyn’s eyes went wide with shock. “Well, holy shit. Circus Monahan. Heard ya was dead a long while back.”
Circus grinned. “Well, I’m not.”
Brooklyn shook his head, amazed. “Sheeee-it. Hold on, lemme tell da guys.” Brooklyn turned and shouted up the stairs. “Hey, Monahan’s not dead. An’ ‘e’s standin’ heah in da pahlah.”
A space of mere seconds passed before several newsies thundered down the stairs. Circus soon found himself standing eye to eye — or rather, eye to chin—with Army Radcliff. “Hey Radcliff.” Circus said, grinning at him.
Army glared down at him, blind fury in his dark eyes. “What in the hell were you thinkin’, Monahan?” he barked. Army seldom got angry, but when he did…look out.
“Huh?” Circus asked, looking utterly confused.
“You’ve played some dumb jokes in your time, Monahan, but this takes the f@#$in’ cake.” Army continued. “Everybody’s thought you were dead for the past few months, and now you’re just gonna wander in like nothin’ ever happened?!”
“I didn’ know, Army.” Circus answered. “I couldn’t remember anything.”
Now it was Army’s turn to stare in confusion. “You couldn’t remember anything?”
“Yeah, you heard me.” Circus said with a laugh. “My mind’s been flat out gone…been gettin’ little bits and pieces back, but there’s still some stuff I don’t quite remember.”
For a moment, the other newsies were simply blank. Eventually, though, Army managed to process it all. A huge smile broke across his face. “Damn, we missed you ‘round here.”
Circus laughed and grinned back. “Yeah, well, here I am. Back to make everybody’s life crazy again.”
Army shook his head. “Nah, we got plenty of crazy goin’ around already, tryin’ to put this joint back together.” He gave a wry smile. “You’ve got some catchin’ up to do.”
“I’m sure.” Circus replied, looking around, searching the room for one face. “But first…where’s Maddy?”
At that, Army’s face turned grim. “New York.”
“New York?!”
Brooklyn D’Aria nodded slowly. “She didn’ really wanna hang ‘round heah afta ya was…ya know…dead.”
Army continued the explanation. “She and Cricket both left. Just a little while after…what happened. Last I heard, they were headin’ for New York City. Hopped a train.”
Circus slumped into a nearby chair. “Jesus.” He whispered. At first, his mind was whirling, trying to come up with a reasonable course of action. Finding none, he went with his first instinct. “I’m gonna go find her.” He announced.
Army looked down at him. “First, you’re gonna get somethin’ to eat. And you’re gonna sleep. Train won’t leave ‘til tomorrow morning anyway.”
A half smile crossed Circus’ face. “Sure.” He said, not sounding terribly convinced. He knew Army was right, but he didn’t like it much. “’sides, you need to catch me up on things around here.”
There was a lot to catch up on. Trips Criminara was dead, and Circus’s old friend Roller Courtney was the leader of North Wing. There was still some trouble with the old boys there now and then, but nothing Roller couldn’t handle. Little Beth had learned to ride a bicycle, and Brains could juggle four apples now instead of just three. Who was dating whom had, as usual, shifted. Mexi had dumped Army for Breandan Joyce, Brains and Rosie had some kind of thing going on now…the changes sent Circus’s mind to some scary places. What if Maddy had found someone new in her new home? What if she didn’t want him anymore?
“Most everything’s different.” Army finished with a slight shrug. “We’re even gettin’ our house back.”
“Central’s re-openin’?” Circus asked, surprised. The house had just been shut down when he’d been sent to the hospital.
“Uh-huh.” Army replied, a small smile on his face. “We’re gettin’ our home back.”
“That’s great!” Circus’s grin dropped, turning serious. “And I’ll bring Maddy back.” Right now, he wouldn’t admit the possibility of defeat. He would bring Maddy back. She couldn’t have forgotten him so soon. She wasn’t like that. He wouldn’t expect her to wait the rest of her life, especially if she thought he was dead, but surely she wouldn’t move on in just a few short months. On the other hand, he never would have thought that Mexi Montoya would be crazy enough to ditch Army for Breandan “I’ve Slept With Half The Women In Virginia and All The Women In Maryland” Joyce, either.
Army nodded. “Good luck, man. Your bunk’ll still be there, either way.” He couldn’t see how Circus would hunt down a girl who didn’t want to be found in the middle of New York City, but he wasn’t about to tell Circus that he couldn’t. No, Army Radcliff was the last person to tell anyone something couldn’t be done.
Stay tuned! More to come!
