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"This isn't going to work, Race," Boots hissed from his place on the floor, glaring at the boy who had a cigar half-peeking out between his lips.
Davey, shockingly, had been sucked into their shenanigans and had seemingly been struck silent for the past several minutes.
The ducklings stared up at them, wiggling as the group of newsboys tried to hold them without letting any of them fall. Boots had three in his arms, trying to precariously balance them, two of them had taken nest in a cap set next to one of the boys, and Davey was cradling one close and stroking it soft, repetitive motions.
There were nine total.
Nine.
None of them were quite sure how they'd gotten that many ducklings in tow or how exhausted the poor mother with nine babies must be.
"Course it will, are ya stupid?" Racetrack whapped the other boy lightly over the head with his cap, scowling. "We'll be fine, just watch."
Boots stubbornly glared and Racetrack, incredibly keen not to get a sharp kick to his shins, was not going to bring up how overly excited and gleeful the younger boy had appeared when they'd found the ducklings. Boots was scrappy enough, and Race didn't want to have a slew of the littles mad with him for a week 'cause of his inability to keep his mouth shut.
Davey had gone silent. Race was a little thrilled by that- and come on, Jack couldn't be that cross with anything that made Davey so happy he couldn't talk. The Jewish boy stared, eye wide, slowly stroking a little duck in a way that made Race feel he'd probably have his hands fluttering the way he did when he got too excited if he wasn't preoccupied petting the duckling.
"It's so soft," Race thought the last thing he breathed might have been.
He shot a look up to the building. Davey's earlier attempts to protest: "It won't work Race! ...You can't just sneak ducks into the building. What if they make a mess? You don't have any room for pets- Race..." had been abandoned.
"It'll work," Racetrack said presently instead, insistently.
He scooped up one of the ducklings, trying not to grin. This was going to be fun. Besides, who wouldn't want baby ducks in their stuff?
Sneaking the ducklings into the Lodging House was a complicated business. Race's initial plan was to climb up and deposit them through the window, but Davey had shot that down quickly and adamantly. So instead, he began the dangerous trip of sneaking up through the house, hissing sharply to one another while Boots kept ferocious lookout. Ducklings, it turned out, were not very good at being directed places. While the three of them had ended up home earlier than the rest of the boys, it still took more than half-an-hour of wrangling ducklings and guiding them with hats and a box lid up to steps just to reach one floor.
Davey stammered, "This isn't working. It's- it's stupid and we're going to get caught, Race, what if Jack's-"
"Jack ain't gonna be mad with you Davey, he likes you too much. 'Sides, we ain't gonna get caught in the first place." Shooting a glance around the stairwell, Race dropped and scooped a few of the ducklings into his cap and bolted. Balancing the ducklings was a precarious business, but while they chirped at him in protest and Davey yelled "Race!" he did manage to get them in one piece up to the bunks. He swiftly deposited them onto the nearest pillow, ran for the door, and shut it tightly behind him.
Davey shot him a sharp look.
"Race, I swear," he stopped whatever he was saying to carefully nudge one of the ducklings back towards its siblings before Dave's face returned to his anger.
"What? It ain't like this way was working much better," Race shot nack sneakily.
"Just shut up and-"
"Stop pushing!" Boots scolded on of the ducklings before glaring balefully at one of the larger ones. "You're stepping on my toes!"
"Shut up you bums," Race hissed. Boots stuck his tongue out on the step below him, Race could sense it. "Boots..."
Almost petulantly, Boots retorted, "I haven't even done anything!"
Eventually, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible the boys tried to tuck the ducklings into their coat pockets or cupped hands and make it upstairs and out of sight. A handful of the other boys noticed, giggled and watched or snorted. One of the twins gaped for a moment before lighting up and darting away in a way that may have Race a little fearful in anticipation for what the duo would do next.
They did make it with only a few odd looks as the boys slowly began to shuffle in for the night.
Finally, finally they made into one of the dorm rooms. The boys burst in, waving ducklings close to the bed and several of them being deposited onto the pillows. Race kicked the door with his foot. The door slammed shut behind him, and he sent a surveying glance around the room.
"We have them all?" He checked. "Boots?"
"I got mine!"
"Davey?"
A blink before a decisive nod.
"How many are in here?" Race squawked. He let his gaze run along the floor. The ducklings were clustering beneath one particular bunk. Boots was close down next to them, and, hesitantly as though he was afraid of imposing himself too much or something Davey seated himself on the edge of the mattress. He started to count- bundle of feathers, check, the chubby one, the black one, the-"it would be easier to count if they would all stay still!"
Davey dropped his gaze, eyes flicking between the ducks as Race muffled a groan. He twisted around and tangled his hair in his hands. Davey's voice was clear and level when he spoke up smoothly. "We have all nine."
He paused before a confused, "Why-"
He was cut off by a high series of chirps from when one of the baby ducks "Shush shush shush shush shush," Race nearly fell over as he dropped to the duckling's side, trying to cover its mouth. "No," he tried.
The duckling didn't seem to care about Race at all. He huffed.
"Alright, you've been quiet more than ten minutes so I know you'se up to something. Race?" Something thumped below- the drop of a bag perhaps- and then, footsteps.
"Uh, nothing?" Race's voice went high and cracked. He winced. Oops.
Well that was more than unconvincing. Race bolted, lurching forwards and knocking someone's stuff over with a thud in the fray.
"We're fine, Jack," and Race really wanted someone to teach Davey to lie because the poor boy sucked at it.
It was probably more than a miracle they'd made it this far.
Race started scooping up ducklings, desperately trying to wave some underneath the bed. "C'mon, c'mon!" He hissed.
The door swung open. Jack opened his mouth, probably to say something, but froze in the doorway, face slowly falling into one of absolute befuddlement as he stared at the scene of feathers and ducklings and fumbling newsboys.
Davey was the most sheepish of the lot of them. "Oh! Uh, Jack," He lowered the duckling into his lap, fiddling with the edges of the mattress uncertainly, seeming entirely bashful. Race was frozen, a deer in the headlights before he straightened up in the picture of wide-eyed, oblivious innocence while Boots, for the most part, looked incredibly smug and innately pleased himself.
"Hiya Kelly," Boots greeted with an easy grin.
Jack gaped at them a moment. Finally, trying to sound stern, he asked, "Why-" and Racetrack practically preened at the way he could see Jack fighting painfully hard as the corners of his lips twitch to keep himself from smiling. "Are the pillows and the lot of you covered in baby ducks?"
"Ducklings are quite good for the health o' pillows, Kelly, dontcha know? Woulda thought after all your years of being a newsie you would of known," Racetrack leered, knitting his fingers behind his head. "It's the best way too keep em in good shape as long as possible. After all, 's common knowledge for those with brains like Mouth."
Davey wrinkled up his nose, looking half like he wanted to argue before being distracted by the little bundle of yellow and black markings quacking in his lap. His eyes stretched comically wide as he stared in awe at the tiny creature and quickly forgot whatever scolding he seemed to want to give the other boy.
Race smirked.
This was coming to be a lot easier than he anticipated.
Jack stared a moment. He gestured wildly, making a strangled sound before: "What. Happened?"
"It was Race's idea," Davey blurted, panicking. His eyes flew up to Jack's and stretched wide, flashing with insecurity.
"Davey Jacobs," Race gasped. "I am hurt, I am offended, I come here and give you room on someone else's bed outta the goodness of my heart and this is the thanks I get? An' anyhow, Boots was the one-"
"No I was not-"
"Don't you dare, you little-"
"I wasn't-"
"You was the one who said we should in the firs-"
"Alright enough!" Jack cut them off.
One of the ducklings tumbled and landed on its tiny chest with a squeak before fluffing up and fumbling upright. It tilted its head up at them.
The ducklings chirped and Jack seemed to be losing the battle to keep himself from grinning. Forcing a sigh, he said in weak half-protest, "How did you drag Davey into this?" Davey was entirely preoccupied softly dropping his hand to stroke the duckling, who quacked crossly at the boy if he paused a millisecond too long.
"They're soft. And small. And I think Race would have accidentally killed one if he didn't have supervision," Davey rattled off matter-of-factly, before blinking at Jack with the ghost of the smile.
Jack snorted while Racetrack squalled an indignant, "I would not!"
"When are we taking 'em back?" Jack sounded exasperated and far too tired for their antics. Racetrack folded his arms harshly with a huff.
"C'mon Jack, look at them!" Jack jumped, taking a half-step back as he suddenly found a duckling shoved up eye-to-eye with him. Boots stared up at him, eyes stretched wide and Jack held his hands up in a calming gesture.
"Aight, aight, don't get yourself all worked up into a tizzy," Jack swiped at his mouth before he took a deep breath. Squatting down, "You know you has to take them back, right? They need their mom. We can't raise a bunch of ducks. Sides, you know what Weasel and any of the fella will have to say. We can't just take in a bunch of baby birds."
Boots glared before dropping one of the ducks into Jack's cupped hands. Jack blinked, sputtered before he straightened up.
"Can we at least keep one of the little ones?" Race asked.
Jack held the duckling gingerly out in front of him, wavering and almost as though he was afraid of breaking it. "They's all little one's. Where the he- where did you even get them from?"
"Race found them on his way back from the tracks! They musta got lost or something," Boots explained. ""cause they was all wandering around quacking like no tomorrow."
Jack set the duckling back by Boots who nodded proudly. Jack wiped his hands on his pants before standing back up and turning to Race with a sigh. "Their mother's probably looking for them," Davey murmured, knitting his brow thoughtfully.
"Do we have to take them back? C'mon, Jack, don'tcha think it'll be great to see the boys reactions. Albert? Oh! OH, Elmer and Romeo?" Race wheedled before pouting like he used to when they were kids. Jack just huffed and shoved Race's shoulder lightly.
"They has a home too, Racer, and don't be an idiot. Who knows what a mess these things could make?" Jack argued.
"Just for the night. Then we'll take 'em back in the mornin."
Boots shouted in delight, bouncing in a way that lead to a flurry of protested squeaks from the ducklings before he quite seriously apologized. Race lit up, and Davey muffled a laugh behind his hands. Jack's eyes went fond at the edges as he huffed and clicked the door shut behind him. Shaking his head, he crossed over to crouch down and watch Boots chatter away eagerly, nodding along. He shot a look up at Dave, who smiled softly back at him and crooked a grin in response.
This was his family- wild, loud, and unpredictable. He wouldn't change it for the world.
..
Even if: "RACE, IF YOU SET THOSE DUCKS ON MY DRAWINGS I SWEAR IMMA KILL YOU!"