The piercing sound of a gunshot shattered the silence on Roanoke Drive. Sleeping eyes flashed open and a girl of sixteen bolted upright out of her bed, her bare feet smacking hard on the wood floor. Her eyes opened wide in utter terror. “Someone’s in the house…and fired a gun… oh my god…”She walked to her door, trying to be as quiet as possible, her stomach twisting into knots. The doorknob squeaked as it turned and she winced at the sound. Carefully, silently, she eased it open, inch after inch. She peeked her head out from behind the door just enough to see. A line of some liquid was running along the floor and coming from up the hallway...her sister’s room. “Oh my g—that’s blood!” She leaped out from her door and crept along the wall. With every step she took, she got closer to the room. She saw the door was ajar. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god…” Her shaking hand reached out to pushed the door open. With a creak, life as she knew it was swept away from her. A man was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, a gun laid in his hand. Her eyes flicked up towards her sister’s bed. A motionless body was twisted up in the covers.
“Noooooooooooo!” she screamed, her worst fears coming alive. “Rachel! Rachel! Talk to me!!! Please!” She began shaking her shoulders, but her eyes stared away, still and glassy.
Rachel was dead. Rachel was dead. Her sister, Rachel, was…. dead. A cold wind blew into her face from across the room. She looked up and saw Rachel’s bedroom window shattered all over the floor and windowsill. The ghost-like sheers floated eerily with the night air. She looked closer, her eyes red and spurting tears involuntarily.
There were red handprints on the windowsill… red with blood. She looked down at the man lying on the floor...it was her sister’s boyfriend. His hands were clean—he couldn’t have made those handprints. Maybe Rachel tried to get away… No, she couldn’t have. Suddenly, all sorrow fled her body and instead it was filled with rage. The man who killed her wasn’t the one on the floor, he’d escaped through the window.
She leapt off the bed to the window in one stride, pure unaltered hatred blazing behind her hazel-green and tear stained eyes. She looked down the street outside the window and could hear the sound of feet hitting hard and quickly against the cobblestone road. She snapped around and jumped over the man on the floor, smacking the doors in her way, shoving them aside, running as fast as she could out of her house. Her long dark hair and white night dress billowed out behind her as she raced to her front door and down her front steps lined with flowers that drooped somberly in the moment.
The black tipped rot-iron gate was still swinging from the man she was pursuing. The front door of her house which was still with death stood wide open as she raced as fast as she could after the man fleeing from his crime. She could barely see him, but the eerie moonlight reflected off his face for a split second when he flipped around to see his assailant getting closer. A jagged scar across his left cheek shone like mirror in the surrounding blackness.
She was getting closer, she could see the beads of sweat ricocheting off his jet-black hair and soaking his hat. She was gaining, he was slowing, and as his feet missed a stride, she tackled him full force, knocking him face to the ground. She lay sprawled on top of him, trying to strangle the man who murdered the only family she had left. In a quick push up from the ground, the man was regaining his balance on his two feet while his flimsy pursuer sliced through the air and landed hard, her head making a loud clunk on the stony street. Glancing at the mangled body for only a second, he took off running in the opposite direction, the moon casting a morbid light on the scene below.
*~*
“Extry! Extry! Read all abou’ it! Huge carriage axadent n’ Queens! Extry! Extry!” a guy yelled walking around a ritzy part of Manhattan. A passer by in a bowler hat looked slightly interested. “Aw, wha’s anotha one? C’mon mista…” he thought.
“Two people found slain in home! Read all abou’ it!” “I wish THAT one wasn’t true…” The hat man approached him while that thought was still going through his mind. “Ah, heah ya go mista. Thanks a lot!”
The boy continued down the street, putting his change away and counting the rest of his papers. “Only six more ta go…”
He stopped on the corner to look at the clock tower in the square down the street. Squinting from the beating sun, he saw it was 11:30. He was going to be done before lunch, talk about a good selling day. Turning abruptly to go back down the street, a girl ran straight into him.
“Pa’don me, little lady,” he said, snatching his hat off with a smile on his face.
“Uh, its okay,” she replied quickly, her eyes flicking up to meet his. They were blood-shot and panic-stricken.
“Hey, ya a’right?” he asked, genuinely concerned. This girl looked scared to death.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Excuse me,” she mumbled and began walking away.
“Cause’ ya don’ look fine, I don’ believe ya,” he called to her back, trying to get her attention.
She turned around slowly, her ebony hair flowing out of her face, revealing the fairest skin sprinkled sparsely with tiny tan freckles across her nose and upper cheeks. Long, curving black eyelashes fluttered, unveiling glinting green eyes flecked with gold and light yellow. Full pink lips pouted in exhaustion as she breathed heavily. A fitted gray dress hung ripped at about her knees, which looked like they were going to give any second.
“I said I was fi-“ just then, her face went blank as she began to collapse, her head lolling to the side and letting out a muffled breath. The boy lunged to catch her before she fell, and awkwardly held her in his arms, trying to revive any sign of consciousness. When there was no response, he scooped up her feet and headed for the Manhattan Lodging House.
*~*
“Heya Cowboy, who’s da broad?” a boy with a cigar asked jovially.
“Oh hey Race. Dis is uh, well I found ‘er in da street. She fainted uh sumthin. I thought Kloppman ‘d be able ta help ‘er. Can ya find him fa me?” the Cowboy asked.
“Yeah, Jack, lemme get ‘im,” Race replied obediently.
Jack strode over to the dusty couch in the front room of the Lodging House and set the girl down there, clouds of dust clouding around her from the ancient cushions. He brushed the hair out of the girl’s angelic face and noticed how strikingly beautiful she was. Just then, Kloppman walked briskly out from behind the counter.
“Wha’s all dis, huh, Jack?” he inquired.
“I, uh, bumped into ‘er on da street and she didn’t look so good den she jus’ collapsed.” Jack spurted out.
“Oh, a’right, a’right…prob’ly jus a faintin’ spell,” he concluded. Kloppman quickly walked over back behind the check-in desk to the small sink and mirror of his room. He strode back to the couch holding a dripping piece of cloth, wringing it out over her face. She stirred on the couch and slowly opened her eyes.
“What the—what happened-where-who are you people?!” she stuttered. Kloppman sat down on the couch next to her and put his hand on her arm to calm her down. “Where am I, let me go! Leave me alone!” she blurted, flinging her arms away from the man and jumping up off the couch. Just then, Blink, Boots, and Mush waltzed in to brag about what a great selling day they had. The girl made a run for the door but ran smack into the boys, landing hard on her back.
“Oh ‘scuse me, Miss!” Mush said, ripping off his hat as fast as he could and pulling her to her feet.
“Get away from me!” she yelled. Jack was at her side in two strides of his long legs and grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Hey goil! Calm down!” he boomed. Everyone in the room was open-jawed and staring.
“STOP!” she flared, her eyes meeting his for the first time in the room. “Let me go, geeze!” Jack loosened his grip as she took a minute to catch her breath.
“A’right, sorry bout that. Listen, I just,” she sighed, “Sorry—“ she said turning around and walking out the door as the boys parted a way for her. All the newsies in the room were silent for a few seconds before Jack walked out the door after her.
*~*
In a busy city street in Brooklyn, a boy of about 17 skulked around with his cap shading his eyes, trying hard to blend in. When he reached a lonely corner, his eyes darted around nervously and he swept into an adjoining alleyway. There, in the dark, he heard the raspy voice of a person whispering.
“Didja handle it, Rigga’?” it asked, his voice sharp and piercing in the shadows.
“Yeah, yeah boss, I did it…”
“Ya killed him?” he rasped, almost excitedly.
“Yeah, I followed him to his goil’s house. She saw the whole thing so I…” he faded.
“So ya got her outta da way too, good. Now, uh, about dis next one,” he began.
“Uh, Boss? I wan’ out. I don’ wanna do dis no more,” the boy mumbled.
“Wha’did you say kid? Ya’ quittin? I don’ think so pal,” he ordered.
“But boss, ‘s killin me-“
“Nah, boy, you don’ wanna know what’s killin you if ya quit, ya heah’ me?” he drawled.
“Boss, it don’ matta whatcha do ta me, I ain’t killin anotha poi’sen fa you,” the boy stated matter of factly with a tone of sadness over his actions, as he began to back out of the alley.
“Heya kid, ya messin with someone ya don’ wanna mess wit, got dat?” the boss called as the boy stepped into the sunlight, showing his face. A scar on his left cheek glimmered in the afternoon sun as he tipped his hat downward and scuffled away back into the mob of people.
*~*
“Hey! Hey!” Jack called after the girl who was walking slowly towards the statue of Horace Greeley with her head down. “Hey!” he shouted. Finally, the girl looked back at the tall, lanky man trotting toward her.
“Aw, what?” she snapped, harsher than she intended, “Sorry, but why are you following me?”
“Listen goil, you jus’ collapsed back there, I carry you all the way back ta da Lodgin House and then you jus’ run away? What’s goin’ on, huh?” Jack asked.
“Look, thanks for helping me out, but I can’t stay-I have to…um…well I just can’t. Afternoon.” She replied and turned to walk away, her skirts twirling around her knees and bouncing back again.
“Are ya sure I can’t help ya?” Jack called. Slowly, the girl turned around, biting her lip, and walked back to where he was standing.
“Um, actually….where -ahem…where are we?” she asked quietly, flicking her eyes up to meet his only once.
“Whoa. Okay, ya in Manhattan, uh what’s ya name?” he asked, surprised that she didn’t know where she was.
“Mariella. Mariella Potter. I know we’re in Manhattan. I-I used ta live in the Upper East Side, but…now I’m here and I—I don’t remember getting here,” she lied. She’d run away from her house that night and hadn’t been back. But she really didn’t know where she was, so it wasn’t a total lie, was it?
“Well,” he sighed heavily, “it looks like we got ourselves a problem. Listen, fa now, how bout ya just hang around with me and we can go get lunch and then I’ll walk ya back to ya house? How’s dat sound?”
“Okay, thanks,” she smiled, “um…what’s your name?”
“Jack,” he said and smiled back as he led her to Tibby’s for lunch.
*~*
“Aw, thanks Franko,” Jack said after he ordered their lunch. “So…uh…do you rememba anythin about how ya got heah’?”
“No, well, not really. Um,” she shook her head as if dismissing the subject, “something happened at my house and I got in a fight with this guy… I lost… and now I’m here.”
“Oh, a’right den. You get hoit?” he asked.
“Mmm…no…nothing I can’t handle,” she replied, sitting up straight and tucking her hair behind her ears in the small window booth of the restaurant.
“Wull okay… so, uh, Mary. How old ah’ ya?” Jack asked, leaning in and folding his arms on the table.
“Seventeen. You?”
“Jus’ toined eighteen. How’s life in the Uppa East Side, eh?” he asked with a smile.
“I don’t want to talk about it if ya don’t mind,” she replied somberly. The corners of Jack’s smile drooped in awkwardness. Trying to lighten the conversation, Mariella switched the subject.
“So what’s it like being a newsboy, Jack?” she asked.
“Uh, we’s called newsies…along wit a bunch of otha’ things… but it’s a good life. Me boys ah’ like me family an’ we all look out fa each otha’. Someday I’m gonna leave though, an’ go ta Santa Fe.”
“Santa Fe?” she replied curiously.
“Aw, yeah, ‘s been kinda a dream a mine since me motha’ died. She always talked about it,” Jack said quietly and looked at the table.
Just then, their meal arrived. Jack looked up, “Thanks.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said.
“Le’s eat, huh?”
“Yeah.”
*~*
The guy tipped his hat forward into his eyes from the setting sun as he walked down the dock to the harbor. The water glistened in orange and pink and the huge clouds on the horizon glowed with the fading yellow light. His shoes clunked on the worn boards of the dock as he approached the end. Sitting down with a sigh, he flung his legs over the edge and kicked them back and forth in idle loneliness.
Staring at the water, he thought about his last job, the look on the girl’s face as he killed her because she saw him kill her boyfriend. The scream of the person who found her echoed in his head; how she then followed him and he hurt her too. What happened to her? Someone probably took advantage of such a pretty girl just lying helpless in the street like that. What was wrong with him? How could he do that?
These thoughts were swirling in his head when he heard the squeak of a board behind him. He couldn’t see a shadow but he heard the faint popping sound of knuckles being cracked. All at once, he swiveled around and knocked his assailant off his feet with one whip of his legs. He heard a moan from the man lying on his back as he ran as fast as he could away from the dock.
“Dat was one of da boss’ guys” he thought. “What the hell am I s’pos ta do? They’ tryin ta kill me…”
*~*
“Hey, are we a’most theya?” Jack asked. His feet were starting to ache. It felt like they’d been walking for hours.
“Uh, yeah, almost,” she replied looking down the darkening street.
“Listen, you got family where ya live?”
“No, its just me now,” she said quietly staring at her feet, her breath quickening.
“Oh,” Jack could tell something bad happened, he just didn’t know what it was.
“Hey, Mary, I been with ya all day and I can tell ya don’ wanna go home. Wha’s da matta?” he asked gently, taking her hand to stop her walking.
Slowly, she looked up and stared into his eyes and he saw her own. Brimming with tears, she blinked softly and a salty drop rolled down her cheek. Sniffing once, trying to hide her pain, she hung her head, her almost black hair falling into her face. Jack pulled her close to him and she buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. He was much taller than she was but somehow she fit perfectly into his arms. They both felt so safe, so wanted like that. When they separated, Jack led her to some steps outside an apartment building. Sitting down, he waited to hear her story.
Sniff. “Well, a couple years ago, my mom and dad were killed when we were crossing the street. A carriage came straight at us. My sister and I walked away fine, but my parents weren’t; they died right in front of us. It was horrible, Jack.”
“Oh geeze. I’m sorry,” he said, not expecting to hear that.
Sniff, sniff. “Then, last night…well, I heard this gunshot in my house and it woke me up. It was just me and my sister living in the house so when I heard it I knew something happened to her. When I went into her room, she’d been strangled and her boyfriend was bleeding on the floor.”
Jack sat staring at her wide-eyed and attentive.
“He was holding a gun but there were bloody handprints on the windowsill where the guy who killed them got out. I…I chased after him and got him good a couple times but he threw me down and that’s all I remember. When I woke up I ran away…to wherever you found me. I’ll never forget that night…never.” She breathed out as a silent tear slid down her face and onto her dress.
“Aw geez goil. I didn’ ‘spect dat...I’m so sorry,” Jack said softly and pulled her in again to give her a hug. “Do ya rememba’ what da guy looked like? Da one who did it?”
“Kinda, he had dark brown hair… and he dressed like a newsie,” she replied weakly.
“Dat’s all?”
“Yeah,” she breathed. Jack gave a defeated sigh. “Wait,” she said, “he had a scar on his left cheek, I remember that.”
All of sudden Jack pulled away. “A scar? Wha’ did it look like?” Jack’s tone was grave.
“Um, it was kind of jagged, it went from his eyebrow to his cheek I think. Why, Jack?” she asked, sitting up, examining the expression on his face. It was furrowed and intense with hate and something she couldn’t quite figure out…disappointment.
“Jack? What is it? Jack?” she asked again. Finally he spoke, staring straight ahead of him.
“Rigga.”
*~*
In a shadowed part of the city, Rigger walked slowly trying to find a friendly alley to call home for the night. He heard scuffling behind him and spun around kicking up a layer of street dust, squinting into the darkness. When he saw and heard nothing, he turned back around and started walking again, faster than before. The sound of his footsteps got faster and faster until he was in a dead run and he heard the smack of someone else’s feet behind him. He ran as fast as his legs would take him but his follower was gaining…and gaining…until he felt the intense jar of someone jumping on top of him.
“Get off uh me!” he grunted while grabbing and ripping at the man on top of him. Suddenly, a cold fist knocked across his face and sent him tumbling to the ground, his knees, arms and head clunking against the cobblestone as his consciousness began to slip.
“Ya listen ta me boy, you gone an messed wit da wrong crowd, ya heah’ me? Huh!? Do ya heah’ me kid?” a low voice boomed, it seemed distant to the man lying sprawled and bloody on the ground. The voice shook Rigger’s shoulder’s and his head lolled back and forth.
“You wait kid, we ain’t done wit ya yet. You jus’ wait…you ain neva gonna be alone, we’s always watchin. Until next time, eh?” the voice whispered harshly into the boy’s ear and let go of his shoulders sending him for another knock on the pavement. The man’s voice echoed in Rigger’s ears as he lifted his head to see the blurred vision of his attacker running away into the night. Mustering as much strength as he could, he teetered as far as the sidewalk before collapsing again in pain.
*~*
Walking slowly back to the Lodging House, Jack and Mary talked about their family; how her father had been a lawyer and how Jack’s mother died giving birth to his baby sister. They both understood each other very well and felt a bond growing between them.
“Well, I’ll ask Kloppman if you can stay the night but ya gotta pay for it. Its only a penny a night, but when sellin’s rough, we gotta sleep on da streets. Its not a bad life bein’ a newsie, but it sure aint a easy one,” Jack explained.
“I never thought it was. Sometimes I see you guys around my neighborhood selling papers and it looks like a tough job,” she replied.
“Ah, heah we go. Finally home,” Jack said with a smile, “Tomorrow I’ll get some of the guys and we’ll show you around. Unless you wanna go back ta ya house, you can be one of us. Whadayathink?”
“Sounds good for now, I don’t wanna go back home…that house…not yet,” she agreed.
“Wull a’right den, just sign in real quiet-like when we go inside. Its afta-hours so Kloppman’s got the place locked up. We can go in through the kitchen window though. He always leaves it open durin’ the summa. Follow me,” he said with a quick smile.
The shadowed couple slunk around the back of the building. Jack hoisted Mary up onto the windowsill, she bumped her head on the wall. They both started laughing with their hands over their mouths to muffle the noise. Mary tried to get through the window in a dress that was puffing up around her shoulders in the awkward position and now Jack was doubled over, his face bright red as Mary tried to hold in her laugh. Jack straightened up and helped her through the window. He slid in acrobatically after her from years of practice. Putting his finger to his lips, he pointed with the other hand at a door to his right and mouthed, “He’s in there.”
Tiptoeing across the worn wooden floorboards, Jack signed both of their names in a book at the front desk and gestured for Mary to follow him upstairs. Going up the stairs on silent feet, Jack escorted Mary to the empty bunk under his, trying not to wake up his friends sleeping around him.
“There ya go,” he whispered.
“Thanks, Jack,” she whispered back and stole a kiss. They both blushed and smiled in the dark.
“G’night Mary,”
“Night, Jack,”
*~*
Mary woke up a couple hours later; it was still dark outside. Staring at the bottom of the bunk above her, she shut her eyes tight and tried to fall back asleep. The person in the bunk next to her coughed. She opened her eyes realizing she wasn’t going to be able to go back to bed. Rolling out of her bunk and standing up straight, she noticed Jack was gone from his bunk. To her right, a window leading to the fire escape was open, blowing a breeze across the stifling room of sleeping boys. Stepping out of the window and onto the fire escape, her eyes fell upon Jack, sitting against the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest.
“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked in a soft tone as to not wake the boys.
Jack looked up to see her standing by the window. “Nah.”
“Me either. Mmm, its nice out here,” she said, sitting down next to him.
“Yeah,” Jack said quietly and took a deep breath.
“What are you thinking about?” Mary asked gently.
“Just…Rigga,” Jack replied, looking at the sky.
“Oh…”
“Listen Mary. I, uh, wull I used to be real close with the kid. When he came the newsies, it was right afta the strike. You know about the strike, right?” he started.
“Yeah, of course,” she replied quickly.
“A’right, wull when he came over to our side, he was quitting being a scab.”
“A scab?”
“Yeah, he sold papers instead of joining the union with the rest of us. I mean, I’m sure we soaked him a couple a times. We was all pretty consoined about what he was doin’ an’ nobody would take ‘im in ‘sept me. Dat kid was like me brotha’. I protected him da best I could and he was glad I did too because some a da guys really didn’ like him cuz he was a scab ‘n all. One a me best friends in da woild, Skittery, was one a da people dat hated him and I tried to make em see past it but it neva worked. Wull, one day some a da guys started ta beat Rigga up in an alley and when I came ta help ‘im out, he had a gun. I was on top a him tryin ta make him put it down but he kept fightin wit me and pulled da trigga. I guess Skittery was standin behind me tryin to calm ‘im down too but…” his voice trailed off.
“But what, Jack?” she asked, lifting his chin. She saw all the pain from that night welling up in his eyes as he turned away. Staring at his back, she put her hand on his shoulder.
“Skit was right behind me and… and…Rigga shot ’im. He killed Skittery dat night and if I hadn’t knocked ‘im across da face with dat crate and got the gun, he probably woulda killed da othas too. None of us saw ‘im again dat night, we were busy tryin ta help Skit. He probly jus’ crawled away dat-“ he sighed. “I saw him walk into an alley about a month ago. He’s still around. And he had the scar I gave him, just like you described it.”
“I’m sorry, Jack,” she said gently as Jack turned back around.
“I thought I taught ‘im betta than ta kill people. I’m sorry that he killed ya sista. I really am, Mary. Its like it was me own fault,” Jack said.
“Jack, nothing you could have done would’ve made him not do what he did. Don’t blame yourself,” she replied, wrapping her arms around him crumpled in remorse.
His light brown hair fell over into his face as his glassy eyes flicked up toward the blackness above them. He hugged her back and they fell asleep in each other’s arms, safe, and glad to have someone to hold onto.
*~*
Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into the happiest month that the Jack and his newsies had ever experienced. They took in Mariella like she was one of their own. They even gave her a newsie name, Tiny, since she was the most petite and angelic looking newsgirl out of the lot, although she could hold her own in a fight. Jack especially took a liking to her the first time they met and his affection grew even deeper with every second her spent with her, which was almost always. The two were inseparable, always holding hands, selling papes together, it was like they were made to be together. Meanwhile, in the corners of the city, Rigger dodged the light, slipping around Manhattan, uncaught by his murderous pursuers.
*~*
“Tiny. Tiny?” a boy with a cigar said.
“Huh? What? Oh, hi Race,” she replied, shaking her head as to clear her mind.
“Hiya, mind if I join ya?” he asked, sliding into the booth seat across from her.
“No, go ahead,” she said quietly, trying to smile but it faded quickly.
“Where’s Jack, huh? I thought he’d be wit’ you,” he inquired.
“Oh, I dunno, he should be here soon. He said he’d meet me at Tibby’s at six,” she answered solemnly.
“Oh, a’right.” Race tried to read the expression on her face. Tiny stared at the table, not really even seeing it.
“Tiny?”
“Yeah.”
“What wrong, huh? I ain’t seen that poifect smile all day. ‘S matta?” Race asked, concerned.
“Oh, sorry,” she replied, her eyes meeting his as she attempted to return to her usual cheery face until her eyebrows furrowed and she caught herself giving a pained expression instead. “Today, I just, well it’s been a month since I came to you guys.”
“Really? It seems like I’ve known ya foreva. Heya, Tiny, I see ya lovaboy,” he said, seeing Jack walking through the front door, saying hello to the people around. Race slid out of the booth, “You keep an eye on yaself, a’right? I don’t wanna see my happy goil sad no more,” he said softly, patting her on the shoulder as he walked away. Jack saw him walking away from the booth. “Heya, Racetrack!”
“Heya Cowboy. Uh listen, ya got one unhappy goil on a hands. Take care uh her, a’right?” he said in a hushed voice.
“A’right, Race. Thanks,” Jack replied, running his hands through his hair before walking to the little corner booth and sitting down opposite Tiny. Her face lifted when she saw him sit down in front of her but saddened once again soon after.
“Hi Tiny,” he said gently.
“Hey Jack, I’ve been waiting to see you all day. I didn’t know if I’d be able to stand it anymore,” she said, her chin quivering. She took a deep breath to make it stop. Jack reached across the table to hold her hand.
“Its been a month since…” she started.
“I know. I’ve been seeing it in your face for days.”
“I just, I…I miss her so much. Everyday, a little part of me gets tight and locks itself up. Its like I can only breathe in so far, because if I go any further, my whole heart’ll get locked away.” She dropped her head and squeezed her eyes shut tight, trying to fight the tears behind them from coming out. Her black-brown hair fell into her face. A tear dripped down from her cheek, splatting quietly on the tabletop.
“Tiny, ya sista is in a betta place, even betta than this one that you and me ah in. I can’t tell ya how much it hurts me ta see you cry. Tiny, nobody is eva’ gonna take the place of ya sista, but what I’m tryin ta say is that ya don’t hafta lock ya heart away… because I’m always gonna be heah’ wantin to open it back up… ‘cause I…I love you.” Her vulnerable baby eyes stared straight into his, absorbing every word he just said as a single tear rolled down her cheek.
“I love you, too, Jack,” she said breathlessly, a new smile spreading across her face.
“What do ya say we get outta heah’?” Jack said, squeezing her hand and leading her out of the table.
“I’ll follow you wherever we go,” she whispered to his ear and they began their way back home to the Lodging House, hand in hand.
*~*
“Dodge the light. Keep your head down. Stay in the shadows,” Rigger repeated in his head as he passed the newspaper distribution center where he used to get papes to sell with his buddies. It reminded him of Jack. That guy was a big brother to him and what did he go and do in return? He killed one of his best friends. A huge knot twisted in his stomach as memories of that night came flooding back. He was so horrible. Jack tried to make him put the gun away but he didn’t, he could’ve killed Jack, Skittery was right behind him, it was so close. Instead of Skittery, Jack could be dead. If he hadn’t taken away the gun, maybe he would’ve been.
The guilt from that night weighed him down even more as he peered around a dark corner and saw the Lodging House. Racetrack, Kid Blink and Mush were all outside talking about how the selling day had been and the new girl Mush saw that he thought was gorgeous. Slowly, silently, he made his way around the neighboring buildings and into the alley next to the Lodging House. While he waited for Jack to return, he leaned against the brick wall. He had to talk to Jack about that night…to tell him he was sorry.
*~*
“Heah’ we are, home again,” Jack said cheerfully as he opened the door and waited for her to step inside.
“Hey, listen, thanks for cheerin me up back there, I really needed it. Today things have just been getting to me. I’m so lucky to have you,” Tiny said sincerely.
“I’m just glad to have you to put up with me,” he played, smiling at her.
“Aw, well somebody’s gotta do it,” she laughed. Jack picked her up and spun her around in his arms in the small dusty foyer of the Lodging House. Jack led her up the stairs to the bunkroom, opening the door for her once more. Cigar smoke and the playful sound of roughhousing boys and poker games barraged them. Tiny walked over to her bunk by the window and plopped down, sending dust billowing around her.
“I think I’m gonna try to fall asleep,” she told Jack, who was leaning against the bedpost across from her, “I’m pretty tired.”
“Me too, I dunno if I could sleep in heah’ though. A’right. Good luck,” he laughed, bending down and kissing her forehead. “Sweet dreams, Tiny.”
Jack walked over to the window and stepped onto the fire escape. Leaning against the railing, he sighed and bent his head back to look at the sky. Today had been pretty eventful; he was glad it would calmly dwindle away as the stars got brighter and brighter in the night sky. Then he looked down at the alley. A figure stepped into the moonlight and looked up at Jack; a scar glinted across his face.
“Rigga?” Jack whispered to himself. “Rigga?” he said a little louder. The figure below nodded. He motioned for Jack to come down. After a minute, Jack climbed down the fire escape out of curiosity for Rigger’s means upon returning. He jumped off of the last step, landing silently on the ground.
“Jack-“
“What are you doin heah, huh?” he said harshly.
“I-“
“Why didja come back? Huh? Why?” Jack demanded. He waited for a response.
“I wanted to see you, Jack,” he said quietly. “You was like me brotha, my best friend.”
“Yeah? Yeah? Then why did you do whatcha did, huh? How couldja?” Jack berated, stepping forward.
“Jack I—shhh!” Rigger said suddenly, putting his hand up to silence Jack.
A huge shape stepped into the opening of the alley. Another came right behind him, and then another. Three thugs stalked slowly into the alley, two of them carried clubs and chains, and the other held something small and shiny in the moonlight, a knife.
“Rigga…” a deep voice said, it resonated throughout the space between the buildings. “We know you’se in heah’. We been following you fa a long time now…Come on out heah’.”
Rigger looked at Jack with terrified eyes. He mouthed, “I’m sorry,” before walking up to the opening of the alley, leaving Jack lost as to what he could possibly be thinking. Those guys were not ones he should be dealing with alone.
“Aaaaah, well if it isn’t my favorite little newsie. Listen boy,” the man with the gun grabbed the back of Rigger’s neck and threw him to his knees, “we tried ta tell ya but you wouldn’t listen. Now ya gonna get whats comin to ya, a little gift from the boss ‘imself.”
The man to his right stepped forward and hit Rigger across the face with his club, sending blood from his mouth flying into the air. The other man swung his chain around a couple times and then whipped him across the back with it, making him scream out in pain. Jack ran up the alley to save his friend. He leapt in front of a flying chain meant for Rigger that whipped and wrapped around his chest, knocking him to the ground in pain. The thugs saw this as a new challenge and focused their energy on both of the boys.
Blood stained their shirts and skin as every attempt to fight back resulted in getting kicked, beaten, or punched. Both of their consciousness slowly began to slip.
*~*
Tiny stepped out of the window onto the fire escape after hearing someone scream. She looked down into the alley and saw Jack and another man getting beaten by three other people.
“RACE!” she screamed, “BLINK! BOOTS! YOU GUYS! GET UP!!” Tiny screeched back in through the window, waking up and getting everyone’s attention. “Jack’s in trouble!!!” She jumped down the stairs of the fire escape while the boys scrambled to get up and out to help their friend. The second her feet touched the ground she ran as fast as she could down the alley to where the boys were being attacked. Jack saw her racing towards them.
“Tiny! NO!” he shouted before the main attacker charged at him with the knife, he jumped backwards, as it swiftly sliced open his shirt and made a bleeding line across his chest. She ran up to the bloodied boys and threw herself in front of them, although even that didn’t stop the attackers. One of them grabbed her by her hair and threw her against the wall. She hit her head full-force and slid down the wall, crumpling at the bottom. “TINY!” Jack yelled. A new rage and strength filled him as he pulled himself to his feet and tackled the man, beating his face until his hands were numb. One of the other thugs saw what he was doing, and threw a chain around Jack’s neck, ripping him off his fellow attacker and dragging him deeper into the alley, choking him. Meanwhile, the two others had beaten Rigger so badly, he just lay mangled on the ground, too hurt to move. His hat lay on the ground next to him and his shirt was ripped, revealing strips of raw, bruised skin.
The newsies from the bunkroom sprinted to the alley and jumped onto the attackers. The newsies outnumbered the three thugs by at least 20 and they beat the two of them out of the alley. Tiny, getting pulled up slowly by Kid Blink and Race managed to breathe, “There’s three of em…get Jack..” before collapsing to the ground again.
“Jack!” Blink yelled, running back into the darkest part of the alley, followed by Race, Mush, Boots, Dutchy and a few other boys.
Back in the blackest corner of the alley, the attacker brought Jack to the ground, the chain still wrapped around his neck. Jack scratched and struck at the man to make him release the chain. He clawed at the ground, his huge hands fumbling and ripping at the dirt, trying to free himself. His face was turning blue and his eyes began to roll back in his head as his movements became weaker and his legs stopped squirming.
Seeing the man on top of Jack pressing a chain to his neck, the boys tore the man off their leader as Jack limply gulped for air. The thug ran out of the alley, following his accomplices. Helping Jack to his feet, he gasped, “Rigga… he’s back…. Tiny…” They led him up to the opening of the alley where the rest of the boys were seeing to Tiny and standing around the almost unrecognizable figure laying face down on the ground. Tiny, held up by Kid Blink and Mush, saw Jack being led by Racetrack up the alley and wrapped her arms around him with tears running down her cheeks as she pressed her face to his shoulder. They let go of each other and Jack kneeled next to Rigger and turned him over. He let out a groan and tried to sit up but couldn’t. He coughed and blood spurted out of his mouth.
“Rigga. You are like me brotha. I’m glad you came back. I missed you, kid,” Jack said hoarsely, accepting him for what he was.
“Jack, all I wanted ta say was I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Rigger said quietly to him and the rest of the newsies surrounding him. “I guess it’s a life for a life though, right?” he tried to laugh at the situation. He could tell he was slipping.
“No, no Rigga, ya gonna be fine. Hey! Look at me! Ya gonna be fine. Don’t you leave me too! Rigga!” Jack stammered, holding him, trying to keep him awake.
“You’ll always be my brotha…always,” he whispered, squeezing Jack’s hand until his strength left him and his eyes closed for the last time.
“No! Rigga!” Jack shouted, “No…” he said to himself. His shoulders began to shake as all of the regret and anger and love and sorrow trickled down his face and onto his shirt that was deep red with his own blood. The people around him took off their hats and paid their respects to the friend they once knew. Sniffing and tears surrounded them as one of their own left them forever, no matter what his actions had brought upon them.
Jack looked up to Tiny from the ground. His neck was red and turning purple from the chain and his cheek had a bloody scuff. Blood was dripping down his chest from where one of the attackers cut him. Tiny dropped to her knees next to him and ripped the bottom of her shirt off. She rolled it quickly and pressed it on his chest to stop the bleeding. He was numb and his mouth stood open in shock. Jack examined the girl in helping him that threw herself in the way of danger to protect him. Blood was running down her temple and her face was covered in layer of dirt with streaks running down her cheeks from crying. He leaned into her and put his head on her chest, letting his tears fall silently. Tiny held him, trying to comfort the person who just lost one of their best friends…again.
*~*
A week later, no one was really back to themselves, no one less than Jack. Tiny approached him, taking a deep breath and putting her hair behind her ears. She sat down on the windowsill of the bunkroom next to his bunk, where he lay, still recovering. A cut and a blue bruise near Tiny’s temple remained from that awful night. Propped up on his elbows, she saw Jack had a series of cuts and bruises on his cheeks and eyes and his neck was blue and battered. A white bandage was stretched across his bare chest with long scattered dark bruises. He kept staring at the same spot out the window.
“Jack?” she said gently. He looked up at her, breaking out of his stare.
“Oh, hi Tiny.”
“Hi,” she held his hand, “Um, I was just wondering….”
“Yeah?” he said, trying to read her face.
“I wanna get my Jack back. I miss you,” she replied quietly.
He sighed. “I’m sorry, Tine, I just can’t stop thinking about that night. I mean, Rigga came back just ta see me and then those guys killed him. But he killed ya sista, and I didn’t wanna forgive him…until…ya know the whole time, he kept takin’ punches fa me. I loved him like he was my own. He coulda been me brotha for the rest of my life if those guys didn’t come along.”
“I know, Jack, I know…” she said comfortingly.
“But when those guys picked you up and threw you against that wall, I swear Tiny, I thought you were gone. I was so scared. Promise me you’ll never leave me,” he asked shaking.
“As long as you never leave me. I couldn’t stand to live without you. I love you so much,” she replied, her eyes brimming with tears. Jack wrapped his arms around her and they kissed …for each other, for love, for life.
*~*
Summer turned to fall and winters turned into springs. The world kept spinning in New York. Papers kept rolling, friends were still made, and the sun kept rising and setting. The betrayal, love, and sorrow kept things in motion and Jack and Tiny moved with it. Their love and friendship affected the lives of everyone they met and the Manhattan newsies were forever changed. Forgiveness and acceptance was the key to this ever-turning motion and will, at least for the newsies, be forever unobstructed by hate.
It takes one of little wisdom to hate
someone.
It takes one of much experience to accept their flaws.