Chpt. 14

I rubbed my tired eyes

and grimaced as we approached the large stone building that Fiction had pointed Racetrack and I to. Sometime in the night, I’d awoken to stiffening pain in my whole body and I’d barely slept a wink afterwards. For a few moments during the night I’d considered waking Jesse and asking him to keep my company; as quickly as the thought had come, I decided against it. Jesse needed his sleep, it wasn’t fair that we should both suffer for my stupidity.

"Don’t get in my way, goil." Racetrack barked, I sighed,

"Gettin’ in yer way’s why ‘m here, lackwit." I snarled back. I sighed again, why do they always have to pick a fight with me? Was it just because I’m a girl, or am I just that disagreeable? "If ya could take care a yerself better, den maybe Blink wouldn’t a decided ya need a nanny."

I’m just that disagreeable.

We mounted the vast steps and let ourselves in the large wooden doors; inside everything was very highly polished wood, like the doors, only lighter in color. I approached a woman sitting behind a little table, her graying hair was pulled back in what had most likely started the day in a tight bun, but with the heat of even the morning, there was a halo of stray hairs that had escaped their bond. She squinted at us as we approached, then gave us a tight, fake smile.

"May I help you two gentlemen?" I quickly drew myself into my clothes as I stepped forward, making myself smaller and less hostile, at the same time cutting Racetrack off before he could open his mouth.

"Yes m’am," I said, taking off my cap and crumpling it in my hands. At this point my face was dirty and dark enough that I seemed boyish with or without it. "We’d like ta speak wit’ Police Chief Devery if he ain’t too busy." Once she knew we weren’t beggars or ruffians the lady’s smile because a little less fake as she pointed us down a side hall with instructions to go all the way down and to the left. I couldn’t help giving Race a smug smile as I jammed my hat back on my head. People like it better if you take your hat off for them in front of them, makes them feel more important.

"Feminine wiles." Said Race, by way of explanation to my success.

"She thought I was a boy." I countered, I don’t think he could think of anything else to say, so he scoffed and rolled his eyes.

 

Chief of Police Devery’s office managed to be bright and suffocating at the same time. His wife was probably to blame for the off-white curtains covering the only window and the brass framed portrait on the corner of the light wood desk. But the man behind it looked less bright and more like he’d suffocate you if you commented on the décor. Shaped like a muscle-y powder-puff, Devery had a pair of beady little eyes that peeked out over thick cheekbones with a long, dark moustache hiding his upper lip. Hands as big as my head were laced over a good sized stomach and he glared at us as we entered. "Who letta pair of streetrat’s into my office?" he barked as we entered, taking our hats off as we approached.

"Police Chief Devery, we’s hereta ask ya ta issue da newsboys a parade permit so’s we can hava march and get our word out." Race said, mimicking my earlier tone; I have to admit he did a pretty good job.

"Why da hell would I give ya li’l ruffians a permit ta run rampant ‘round my city?" I knew it was a rhetorical question, but it was apparent that Racetrack didn’t.

"‘Cause it’s the right thin’ ta do, mister, we’s just tryin’ ta make sure our rights are honored." The large man stood up, slammed hands the size of my head on top of the highly varnished desk and stood over it with a wild look in his beady eyes,

"Get outta my office, ya filthy little maggots. I don’t give permits to slobs." I was frozen; this wasn’t what I expected at all. But Race remembered to say the one thing that Fiction told us to say if this happened,

"Mr. Devery, don’t call me a slob. I might not be as high in office as you, but someday, I may be higher. So put that in yer gilded pipe and smoke it." Race jammed his hat on his head, grabbed my arm and stormed out of the office. He nodded politely to the secretary behind the table, and dragged me out into the bright sunlight.

 

Racetrack Higgins didn’t stop steaming until we were holed up in the side room with Jesse and the other "leaders".

"I can’t believe dat overbarrin’ windbag! Who d’s he think he is?"

"Da Chief of Police." I said flatly, rolling up my sleeve to examine the new bruise that had bloomed under Racetrack’s fingers.

"Dat ain’t fair!" Race cried, ignoring my fresh black and blues.

"Welcome ta life." Jesse snarled at the same time Fiction asked,

"What do you think we’re striking for?" suddenly Blink started to laugh from his seat at the rickety table. I narrowed my eyes and glared at Blink, I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach about that laughter.

"What’s so funny, shrimp?" I growled, already knowing that I wasn’t going to like whatever answer he came up with. When his peals of laughter tapered off into giggles, Blink finally said,

"We ain’t on strike." Race and Jesse’s angry faces slacked as they just looked at the little boy; even Fiction’s smarter-then-thou look froze and started to look confused.

"What’d ya mean we ain’t on strike?" Jesse asked.

"Exactly what I said, we ain’t on strike."

"How?" I spat, my nails digging into the flesh of my hands.

"I was talkin’ wit some guy from da trolley worker’s union, ‘nd he says dat we ain’t on strike till we go talk ta da Big Boss Man."

"Yer talkin’ ‘bout Pulitzer. Ya want me ta go up dem stairs ta one a da highest points in da city, ta talk ta one a da most powerful men in da country?"

"We’d all go." Fiction started to laugh a little, a desperate sound,

"Nice joke, Kid, ya really had me goin’ dere fer a minute." There was a pause, "yer not kiddin’. Dear God, ya ain’t kiddin’." Fiction’s usually cultured voice started to crack. He sat down too heavily on one of the half broken chairs and ended up on the floor, but he just sat down, undignified as I’d ever seen him, on the splinters.

"So…this?" I gestured to my torn and bruised face, "This was all for nothing?"

"It would seem so."

"You little B*****D!" I screamed, launching myself out of my chair, toppling it. My body screamed in pain and anger as I all but leapt over Fiction’s sitting form and grabbed Blink up from where he sat.

"You let this happen to me. You made my little girl cry to look at my face!"

"Ya keep saying that. Did I personally beat you?"

"If ya had, I would have reason ta pound ya inta the ground instead of just hatin’ yer guts, boy."

"Velvet put him down." I scowled at Jesse’s calm tone, I knew he was right, but that didn’t mean I liked it.

"If we fix this now, then maybe we can still get somethin’ accomplished." With a deep sigh I loosened my grip on Blink’s vest and shirt, dropping him to the ground. He looked up at me with a smirk worthy of a man three times his age and it took all of my willpower to not try and knock it off his face. Race walked over and helped a still stunned Fiction off the ground and gave him a half a grin.

"So whadda we do now?" he asked, eyes searching everyone in the room. "Our leader leads us ta The World office building ‘nd we talk ta da man in charge."

 

Two hours later, the five of us were standing outside a dark paneled door, hearts thumping. It had taken a lot of fast-talking and all of Jesse and Fiction’s newsie charm to get us here, into the belly of the beast. Inside that door sat the man who was akin to the newsie god; none of us got food or shelter without his damndable papers, but a few of us died because of them too.

Blink shoved through the small crowd of frozen kids and yanked open the door, and we found ourselves in a room with bookshelves lining the walls and two large wing-backed chairs sitting facing a large wooden desk, behind which sat a man. He was rather young for this job, with dark hair and tanned features. He was bending over a paper, probably a copy of the afternoon addition of The World. Blink walked in, the rest of us following along behind him like ducklings, Fiction seemed to regain some of his composure and took a seat in the left hand chair, while Blink hopped up into the right. Racetrack, Jesse, and I stood behind them, facing the man at the desk who had yet to look up from his work.

"May I help you?" he asked suddenly, I must have jumped in surprise because Jesse carefully put a gentle hand on my wrist for a moment, keeping his face stony and unreadable. I could have sworn I’d heard that voice before, but I couldn’t place it right away, so I dismissed the feeling.

"We’re here to discuss something with you, Mr. Pulitzer." Fiction said eloquently, I scowled,

"Dat man ain’t Joseph Pulitzer." I snarled.

"How da ya know, Vel?" Blink snapped;

"I seen ol’ Joey before, ‘nd dis ain’t him."

"He’s quite right, you know." The man said, finally looking up and giving us a gracious smile; a thick scar bisected that smile, it and three others cut across his cheek and down his face. I felt Jesse tense beside me; using the chair as cover I slipped my small hand into his, but he didn’t even seem to notice other then to squeeze it tightly,

"My name is Matthew Connors, I am Mr. Pulitzer’s appointee and advisor. Mr. Pulitzer is…taking a holiday to recover his health." He chuckled a little here, Jesse squeezed my hand tighter, "now what is it you need to discuss with me?" "We, your extra distribution, are having some concerns…"

"We tink dat yer papes is way over-priced fer us newsies, wit slow headlines ‘nd three additions a day we’re dyin’ out dere. When dere was a war on, three editions was great, we sold almost every pape we bought. But now ya don’t got nuttin fer headlines er stories. We ain’t gonna sell yer papes no more ‘till ya lower da price we pay fer ours." Mr. Connors leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers and stared at us over them with an icy, glittering gaze. Jesse was now gripping my hand so hard that I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore, just cold pins and needles.

"I admire your boldness, young mister…"

"Blink, Kid Blink."

"Mr. Blink, but I’m afraid that what you’re proposing is economically impossible at this juncture." Racetrack tapped Fiction on the shoulder,

"What’s dat mean, Fic?" he whispered,

"It means," Fiction said in a conversational tone, "that the strike is on, ‘nd Mr. Connors ‘ll be lookin’ fer a new job." Matthew Connors laughed,

"I’m afraid you would be mistaken." He gestured to a doorway off to our left, in walked a pair of thugs twice as big as Jesse on a good day, "would you both be so kind as to escort our young rebels outside the building, I’m afraid it’s for World employees only." He told the goons, "have a good day, gentlemen, and please hesitate before you darken my doorway again." He waved a little as we were bullied out of the door; I had barely enough time to drop Jesse’s hand before we were discovered.

"What da hell was yer problem back dere? Ya looked like ya saw a ghost." I asked Jesse as we walked away from the building. Blink, Racetrack, and Fiction were ahead of us, conspiring in low voices. It was true, Jesse’s face was white, his eyes wide; my fingers were just starting to regain true feeling.

"Ya didn’t see it?" he asked in a hushed and hurried voice,

"See what?"

"Dat was Marcus, da scars er new ‘nd he looks older ‘nd cleaner, but I know it’s him!" "Jesse, da man said his name was Matthew…"

"Ta hell wit what ‘e said his name was! Dat skinny lil’ runt up dere says ‘is name’s ‘Kid Blink’, ya think dat’s da name ‘is mudda gave ‘im? Naw, Vel, I know dem eyes, dat was Marcus. ‘d be willin’ ta bet my life on it." Jesse was quiet the rest of the night. Before he slinked off to be by himself, I noticed that he kept staring off into space and rubbing his wrists, like he could still feel leather biting into his skin. Any attempt to speak with him warranted vague responses and gestures.

Finally, Jesse lay down under his blanket, silent and immobile; I decided to of find Haley Rose. We couldn’t help the poor girl without telling her that we were. Whatever was going on in Jesse’s head, I couldn’t help him until he either decided to tell me or I literally beat it out of him, and since I was still stiff and sore from my own beating, I decided that it would be alright if I focused on something else for the time being.

 

When I arrived in their room, I was a little surprised to see James sitting on the floor alongside Haley Rose.

"Why, hello Velvet! Look who’s home tonight!" she chirped. I resisted the urge to scowl at her always-cheery demeanor and just smiled at her.

"It’s good that he is, I have something to talk with the two of you about." James wrapped his arms around Haley Rose and pulled her tight in towards his body. "What is it?" he asked me suspiciously. I understood his caution, I really did, but it still made me a little mad, I was just trying to help.

"’s near time fer Haley Rose’s baby ta come, ain’t it?"

"What of it?" Decking the father-to-be in the mouth is a bad idea, but just the thought of it calmed me down enough to continue.

"I found someone who’s willin’ ta help ‘er out…" James clung to Haley Rose tighter,

"We don’t need no help! I’m doin’ a fine job takin’ care of my goil ‘nd ‘er babe. My babe." I took a deep, calming breath,

"Ya are doin’ a fine job, James, but tell me this: how much do ya know about giving birth?" he gave me this smug look that I’d only seen done better by Jesse and Kid Blink, not up to par, but I still wanted to slap it off his face.

"I helped my Mama give birth ta three brothers ‘nd sisters."

"How long ago?"

"Seven years, maybe a lil’ more."

"Do ya trust yer memory enough that ya wanna risk yer girl ‘nd yer baby?" I watched his face fall and I started to feel bad for being so blunt. I saw real fear start to peek through cracks in that smug mask. He looked down at Haley Rose’s innocent, smiling face.

"What do you think, sweetling?" he asked her,

"I trust Velvet of course, but it’s up to you." It wasn’t even a coerced answer, she truly expected him to make the decision because he was older and wiser. I felt my heart go out to him at that moment; I too knew how hard it was to be in charge, especially of someone you cared about.

"Alright…where’s yer friend?" James sighed; sounding like each word was literally being drug from deep inside him. I gave him a sympathetic smile and lead the way out the door.

 

An hour later I was, once again, knocking on Satin’s door, but something strange happened, Satin didn’t open it right away. I refused to put my ear up to the door to see what was going on, I saw the faintest light from a candle shining from under the door and I knew. So we just hid silently in her examination room, which was really just a closet sized space with two stools.

"What kinda place is this?" James hissed, while Haley Rose dozed in his lap.

"Listen, ya wanna throw stones er ya want da best free care fer yer girl?" I snapped back. No one even implies something bad about Satin, not around me. We waited a few moments after the door opened, personally I was hoping to not have to face Satin’s client. But just as we were about to leave the closet-sized room, I heard voices. I held a hand out to stop James where he stood with a still sleeping Haley Rose in his arms.

"This is embarrassing Satin! You can’t tell anyone." Cried the first voice, I knew I’d heard it before, but I hadn’t been in contact with anyone, except Satin, at Treasure Chest in months.

"What’s embarrassing, dear? That you’re a comfort to lost souls?"

"WOULD YOU GIVE THAT UP? My God, Satin, get a hold of yourself, there’s only one thing we’re comforting and it’s not these men’s souls." I resisted the urge to swoop in and rescue Satin from the same, though harsher, words that I’d flung at her nearly half a year ago. "And as far as that goes, no that’s not what’s embarrassing. What’s embarrassing is that powerful men in this city pay for an hour with me, and I let one little fisherman in for two years and all he paid me with was in a squalling 8 pounds of flesh and blood." When Satin spoke next her voice was calm and clipped,

"I’m sorry that you feel that way. You have a special little girl, Silk, I wish you deserved her."

"Go to hell, Satin! If you think she’s so wonderful, then you find her sorry a*s and just keep her!" Silk shrieked, I risked a look around the door jam while the wooden door slammed shut. Satin just stood there, her face stony, yet strangely serene. There were times that I would almost kill to have such control over my emotions. All at once, the topic of discussion hit me like a brick, Silk had children, a child?

 

I’d left James and Haley Rose in Satin’s care, I didn’t even stay to see my little girl because I didn’t want to scare her again, then I put an egg in my shoe and beat it. My hands were jammed deep into the pockets of my trousers and I hunched my shoulders against the chilled night air. My head ached from trying to wrap my mind around the subject of Silk’s offspring. Silk had a kid? I don’t believe it. Even if it was true, the poor kid’d be older then I am and be quite a few pages short of a newspaper. I’d only grown up under Satin for part of my life and I was hardly usual; a child mother who dressed as a boy and sold newspapers on a street corner. What was this poor girl like?

Finally I just sat down on a stoop, I stretched my legs out into the middle of the sidewalk and looked up at the sky. It was pitch black except for the occasional flickering gas lamps along the sidewalk. I smiled lightly as my eyes searched out the few stars that I could see through the clouds. I don’t know why, but an image of thousands of stars in the sky flashed before my eyes, I blinked my eyes and shook my head. The mysterious picture disappeared; I’d never seen that many stars before in my life. The sound of footsteps caused me to look back to earth and down the street. Print came into sight, his shoulder’s slumped and defeated.

"Wha’d say Print?" I called, his head snapped up, but his face relaxed when he recognized me. I hadn’t seen Print since my encounter with the gang two days ago, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but he just looked so downtrodden that I had to try to talk to him.

"I don’t say nutin, Vel," he came and flopped down beside me, head in his hands,

"I don’t say nutin."

"What’s eatin’ ya?" I asked him,

"Love, er at least strong infatuation." I looked at him like he was crazy,

"Huh?"

"I just been ta see my goil," he answered.

"This is reason ta be down?" he chuckled darkly,

"Ya wouldn’t think so, least wouldn’t be if she actually cared about me. She’s slummin’ it wit me, usin’ me ta rebel er somethin ‘gainst her parents ‘fore they ship ‘er off ta be married." I nodded, I’d heard of upper-class children "slumming", hanging around with street-rats or even getting factory jobs just to say that they had. But they never stayed long, no matter how much they thought they knew what they wanted; all the kids usually went back to their families.

"That’s awful, Print. Ya actually like ‘er don’t ya?" he scowled at me,

"Don’t matter, she prolly won’t wanna see me again soon ‘nyways. Told ‘er that it was too dangerous ta see her until the strike was over. Don’t want her gettin’ hurt." I hauled myself onto my feet and held a hand out to him.

"Welcome ta unrequited love." I told him as I helped him to his feet and we started home.

"Ta what?" "Never mind, Print." "I thought ya were Whips’ goil."

"I ain’t ‘Whips’ ‘nything. Jesse’s got to many other things on his mind, he don’t need a girl too."

"Well, Jesse might not be able ta handle a goil at da moment, but I know he needs ya. Ya keep lots a heads on straight ‘round here Velvet, ya know that?" I snorted, one of my very un-ladylike habits,

"Yer off yer trolley." I muttered, shoving my hands back into my pockets. Print just chuckled to himself for a second, then I caught him glancing at me, at my face.

"’m sorry, ‘bout the other day."

"Nutin fer ya ta be sorry ‘bout, I all but told ya not ta say nutin." We fell into a companionable silence as we walked, each deciding not to continue with any of the topics we’d touched on.

One would think that an uproar wouldn’t be compatible with an everyday occurrence, one would be wrong. Ever since the strike started, every time I walk back into our home it seems like the whole place is ready to explode with energy and noise. Tonight though, it seemed different, there was more movement and it was much too late for most of them to be up. I caught the shirt of a boy running past me, it was my little scholar from yesterday; his face was bright and excited. "What’s goin’ on here, kid?"

"Kid Blink says dat we’s gonna have a parade tamarra ‘nyways. ‘ferget what dat ol’ walrus says’, Blink says. What’s a walrus?" I shrugged,

"I dunno kid, ya got ‘ny idea where Blink is now?"

"He’s in his room." I sighed deeply, was I the only person in this whole place with an actual brain? I snarled to myself as I walked off, mind set on finding that little b*****d. It didn’t take long to get to the meeting room that I’d found Blink and Fiction in countless other times. As usual I didn’t knock, I just burst in. then I gave a small cry and turned around with a "Sweet mother!" Fiction’s shirt was unbuttoned and his hands were all over a girl who was half reclined on the one rickety table.

"Anna May, shall I introduce you to our friend Velvet. She has quite a problem with doing before she thinks."

"Nice to meet you." The girl said as she pulled her shirt together.

"Likewise." I muttered, fighting the blush that was rising in my cheeks.

"Is there something you wanted Velvet, or do you just like barging in on private matters?" Fiction’s voice was polite as always, but if eyes were daggers, I’d be dead.

"I was looking for Blink…" Fiction’s head slumped forward onto his chest and sighed deeply. "As you can see, he’s not here; and I assure you that my charming friend here isn’t hiding him under her skirts."

"Thank ya, Fiction, but I got eyes ‘nd a brain, thank ya so much." I snapped,

"Then use them both to realize that Blink’s room isn’t here." Fiction gave a strangled yell as he took me by the elbow and steered me out the door.

"Then why don’t ya tell me where it is!" I snarled back. Another sigh; I was pretty mad now, what was he sighing for? It was legitimate question.

"Fourth floor, ‘nd he’s alone as far as I know. Good night Velvet." With that, Fiction slammed the door in my face.

I was still fuming four flights up the stairs over Fiction’s brush off. I shouldn’t have been mad, I’d always known Fiction was a slimy a*s, but still, it was the principal of the thing. At the end of the hall was a doorway with a long strip of fabric waving in the breeze, I approached it and knocked on the doorjamb. There was a pause, then the curtain was shoved aside and there stood Jesse, strangely bare-chested, skin flushed with sleep so his criss-crossed scars stood out like brands. He ran a hand over his face and up through his tousled hair.

"Velvet? Wha’ ‘er ya doin’ ‘ere?" it took me a moment to comprehend all the ‘words’ after ‘Velvet’.

"I could ask ya the same thing, Jesse, what are ya doing here?" the next noises out of Jesse’s mouth were completely unintelligible, I was surprised that these sounds even passed as words in his sleep-addled brain. It was more then obvious that Jesse had been deeply asleep then was jerked awake, and there wasn’t enough going on to keep him awake. I laughed,

"Jesse, slow down. Think, hard, before you try to talk." He glared at me, then screwed up his face as he thought,

"I came up here ta talk ta Blink ‘bout what happened taday, wit Marcus." I started to correct him, but he cut me off with a raised hand, "don’t try ‘nd convince me otherwise, I know what I know ‘nd what I know is that dat man was Marcus." He rubbed his face again with a groan before walking out from behind the curtain and sitting in the hallway, leaning against the wall facing me, "I asked ‘im if ‘nythin’ could be done so I don’t gotta face ‘im again. Blink said somethin’ ‘bout it bein’ hard cause I is onna da leaders ‘nd he can’t make no promises, but den he just kinda dropped off ta sleep. I musta too cause I can’t ‘member ‘nythin’ else up ta ya knockin’ on the door."

Author's Note

this is all i have written for now, i'll do my best to write more asap. bare wit me though.

Reviews

[Brette Medb]

Hmmm somethings definitely going on... I can't wait to find out what it is! If that is Marcus things just got a whole lot more interesting. Great chapter!

Brette

[Corey Lunare-]

aww no! wanna know what happened between blink and Jesse! crap...now i gottawait...hehe. You builtan amazing amount of suspense in this chapter an i realy would like o continue onward but that is for anoher day. Don't think you are getting rid of me that easily tho! as soona as u get the next part done make sure u lemme know. I am enthralled by this andsimply cannot wait to read on! I am afraid fo jesse as he met the manwho lmst killedhim nd what may happento him in the future...Geat job Dream! I hope you put in the next edion soon but until then!