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“I’d say we launched our strike in the most auspicious manner.”
Jack pulled back and bit this tongue. He wasn’t going to be the one to tell Davey he didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.
“Well,” Finch said, “I don’t know about all that. But we sure did scare the bejesus out of Weasel.”
The other kids laughed and cheered.
“Did ya see the Delancys faces?” Crutchie asked smiling, “They didn’t know which way was up.”
“Alright, alright.” Jack smiled right along with them, but they had to get back to business. “What’s next?”
“Well…” Davey said, “We have to spread the word. Let the rest of the city’s newsies know about the strike.”
Jack nodded. Best way to do it was divide and conquer. “Alright you heard Davey. Let’s spread the news!”
The kids started calling our different Burroughs.
“I’ll take Harlem!” Mush jumped up.
“I got midtown!” Race threw his hand up. Jack cut his eyes over to him. Why was Race taking midtown? Whatever, it wasn’t his problem.
Some of the other kids’ picks got drowned out in the noise and fighting over who got to go where. “Specs! You take Queens. Tommy Boy you get Eastside. And who wants Brooklyn?”
Everyone immediately went silent. A good chunk of the kids went as far and to try and hide their face from him. He tried to make eye contact with Race. Sure he’d already called Midtown, but he had connections in Brooklyn, but he was also conveniently hiding his face.
“C’mon, Brooklyn.” He stared holes into Race's hand that was covering his face, “Spot Conlon’s turf.” When he didn’t get a reaction out of that he turned to Finch, “Finch, you tellin me you’re scared of Brooklyn?”
Finch’s head shot up form the table. “I ain’t scared of no turf!” He bit his lip, “But that Spot Conlon…gets me a little jittery.”
Jack sighed. “Okay. Me and Davey will take Brooklyn.”
“Me?” Davey looked anxious, “I have to—“
“Why is everyone so scared of Brooklyn?” That reporter girl again. The pretty one.
“Yeah? Why are you so scared of Brooklyn, Racer?” Albert teased him.
Race looked like he was about to start an all out brawl. “Hey! You two knock if off. I’ll talk to ya later.” Jack had to do everything around here.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. Then turned back to the reporter. He smiled at her, “What’re you doin here?”
“Asking a question.” She answered him, completely ignoring any flirting that he’d put into it. “Do you have an answer?”
She was good. She had to have been to even get that far. It was impressive. “Brooklyn’s the sixth largest city in the world. You got Brooklyn you got the mother load.” He moved closer to her, “Hey, for someone who works for the Sun you spend an awful lot of time hangin around the World. So what’s that about? You followin me?” He winked at her.
She rolled her eyes at him, “The only thing I’m following is a story. A rag-tag gang of ragamuffins wants to take on the kingmakers of the world. Think you have a chance?” She took out her pen and paper. Looking up at him expectantly.
“Shouldn’t you be at the ballet?” If she was going to doubt him he’d go right back at her.
She huffed, “Question too difficult? I’ll rephrase: will the richest and most powerful men in New York give the time of day to a group of kids who haven’t got a nickel to their name?”
“Hey!” Crutchie said. And the reporter turned back to him. “You don’t gotta be insultin. I got a nickel!”
She looked taken aback by what he said. Most people didn’t think that Crutchie had that side to him. They were always underestimating him. But he was as tough as any of the other Newsies.
She got herself back together, “So I guess you’d say you’re a couple of David’s looking to take on Goliath.”
Davey looked at her, puzzled, “We never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. I did,” She said, smiling proudly.
Jack frowned, “I’ve seen a lot of papes in my day and I ain’t never seen no girl reporter writing hard news.”
“Wake up to the new century.” She got really close to his face. Might have even been uncomfortable if she wasn’t so pretty. “The game’s changing.” She backed up again, smiling, “How about an exclusive interview?”
He thought about it, “Wait, ain’t your beat entertainment?”
“This is entertaining. So far.” She put her pen behind her ear again.
“What’s the last news story you wrote?” He asked.
“What’s the last strike you organized?” The rest of the boys oohed and ahhed at that.
Romeo came over to them. He stood up straighter and took his cap off. He pushed Jack in the chest gently out of the way, “You’re out of your league, Kelly. Methinks the lady needs to be handled by a real man.”
The reporter pushed Romeo back by his shoulder. “You thinks wrong, Romeo.”
His eyes got as big as saucers, “How’d she know my name?”
Jack pushed him back toward the other boys. “Get outta here.” He rolled his eyes. Those boys and their flirting. Romeo trying to get in this girl’s skirt. Race not talking to the guy he’s with putting this whole thing in jeopardy.
Davey turned them back to the topic at hand. “I say we save any exclusive for a real reporter.”
“Do you see anyone else giving you the time of day!” She started sounding desperate, “Alright. So I’m just breaking out of the social pages. But if you give me the story and let me run with it I promise I’ll give you the space.”
Jack had to think about it. What he was willing to do. If this would be helpful. What would be the best for his kids.
“Do you really think we could be in the pape?” Crutchie asked. That damn doe eyed look on his face. Just about anyone could cave for that look. Which was good for selling. But by god he’d roped Jack into too many things because of it.
“Shut down a paper like the World, and you’re gonna make the front page,” She said.
It wasn’t a lot. And he wasn’t sure if it would even go anywhere. But she was right: what other choice did they have? “You want a story, meet us at the circulation gate tomorrow morning and you’ll get one.” He felt his adrenaline spike again. The power he’d felt during the first part of the strike. “And bring a camera! You’re gonna wanna take a picture of this!” He gestured to himself and the kids.
Mr. Jacobi came back in. Time to kick them out again. “Let’s go boys! I gotta clean up for dinner, and I’ve got payin customers that need the tables.”
The boys grumbled. Race got more in his face, “You won’t be shooin us off when we get out mugs in the papes!”
Mr. Jacobi rolled his eyes, “Alright boys! C’mon time to go.”
The newsies started filing their way out of the restaurant. Jack leaned over to Crutchie and kissed his cheek, making sure he was under the cover of other newsies so no one else would see. “Go on ahead. I wanna see what’s goin on with this reporter.”
Crutchie laid a hand on Jack’s cheek. “Okay. Love you.”
Jack broke out of the group exiting to catch back up with this girl.
Davey waved at Jack as him and Les exited. “C’mon Les we have to get back to our folks.”
Jack waved back at them. He followed the girl out the other exit. He smiled at her.
“So what’s your story?” She asked him. Pen and pad out again. “Are you selling papers to work your way through art school?”
Jack laughed. The fact that she even thought he could even dream of art school. He was born poor and he was going to die poor. Art school wasn’t even on his mind. “Art school? Are you kidding me?”
“But you’re an artist,” she said, “You should be inside the paper illustrating it, not outside hawking it.”
She must have had a very different childhood than he had. Not even the way she talked about his life, the assumption he was in school. But also the fact she was a woman reporter. “Well, that ain’t what I want.”
“Then tell me what you want.”
“Same thing as them,” he said, “To win this fuckin strike.”
“Have you always been their leader?” She asked.
It was a good question. He wasn’t their leader though. A big brother at most. He’d just always felt the need to protect his kids. “I’m just a blowhard. Daveys the brains.”
She looked at him confused. “Modesty isn’t a quality I’d pen on you.”
Something just clicked, “Do you have a name?” He couldn’t keep thinking of her just as the pretty reporter.
“Katherine…” she faltered. “Plumber.”
“What? Ain’t you sure?” He asked. He sure as hell knew his name. He never stuttered giving it out.
“It’s my byline. The name I publish under,” She said. Like he’d never heard of a byline before. “Tell me about tomorrow. What are you hoping for?”
He thought about it. It was going to be a lot. And that was assuming they could convince the other neighborhoods to get in on it too. His kids might get hurt, he didn’t want that, but they needed to eat too. “Today we stopped our newsies from carrying out the papes, but the wagons still delivered to the rest of the city. Tomorrow, we stop the wagons.”
“Are you scared?”
Of course he was. “Do I look scared? But, ask me again in the morning.”
She wrote something down on her pad. “Good answer. Good night Mr. Kelly. I’ll see you in the morning.” She started to walk off but paused for a second, “And off the record: good luck.”
“Hey Plumber!” She turned back around, “Write it good. We both have a lot riding on this.”
She nodded at him.
He took a breath. He hoped she was as good at this as she said she was. They needed that good press.
And now he had to go to Brooklyn. Why his stupid brother couldn’t go he didn’t know. But he’d taken on the responsibility. He was the only other one that could go anyway. He may not be their leader but he was the closest thing to it and Spot was brooklyns and they were the two best suited to do business with each other.
He’d walked the Jacobs back to their apartment the night before, so he figured he’d see if they were there to bring them to Brooklyn with him.
He knocked on their door. “Mrs. Jacobs, it’s nice to see you.” He took off his cap. “I don’t mean to interrupt ma’am I was just hoping to take the boys on some union business with me.”
“Come on in Jack,” She said. “Can I at least feed you first?”
“Oh, thank you Mrs. Jacobs,” He said, “I can’t take your food though. I know how hard Davey works for it, ‘specially since we’s on strike now.”
“Meyor! Make the boy a plate,” she called into the kitchen.
“I—“
Mrs. Jacobs shook her head at him. “I’m not letting you go out hungry, Jack.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
He sat down at their kitchen table, taking the smallest plate he could. As he sat down the door opened again. A girl around his age walked in. “Hi, sorry I’m late. Some of us actually had to do a job today.”
“Sarah.” Jack hadn’t met Meyor for long the day before but he’d never heard him so stern. “We have a guest.”
She came in the room. “Oh sorry!” She held her hand out for him to shake, “I’m Sarah. You must be Jack. Les has told me all about you.”
“You’d be right.” He shook her hand. “Nice to meet ya.”
They ate together. Jack couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a nice, home cooked meal. He thought about how nice it was to be a part of something like this; more intimate than what he had with the other Newsies. They were his family, but in a different way than how the Jacobs were family. He wouldn’t give his boys up for anything but…
He snapped out of it. Davey had finished eating. “So, Dave? Still comin with me to talk to Spot?”
Davey glanced over at his mom. “Well, I--”
“You’ll be safe?” Mrs. Jacobs asked.
Jack nodded. “Of course. We’re just going to talk to some of the other boys and try to get them to join our strike. We’ll be back in no time.”
“I’ll come too!” Sarah and Les said at the same time. They looked at each other and laughed.
Jack couldn’t go back on his word that it wouldn’t be safe for Sarah and Les. It wasn’t that Brooklyn was in any way hostile toward girls and kids, Spot actually had more girls in his gang than any of the other boroughs. But him bringing anyone with him was risky, let alone three other people. On the other hand though, he didn’t have a bad relationship with Spot, especially since, well whatever was going on with Racer. “Okay. If ya want.”
“Yes!” Les smiled.
---
Jack knocked on Brooklyn’s lodging house’s door. As always, Spot's second in command, Rafa, opened the door. “What do you want, Kelly?”
“I think you know. I’m sure news has spread this far,” Jack said.
She sighed, but opened the door farther for him. “Who’s with ya? I ain’t seen them before. Normally you’d bring Racetrack.”
“These days I’d prefer to send him on his own,” Jack said, “But he shied away from comin here. You know anythin about that?”
Rafa shook her head, “Spot hasn’t told me nothin. But he don’t tell me much about his personal life. And I don’t ask, it ain’t my business.”
“Wouldn’t be mine either if my little brother weren’t involved,” Jack said. “Anyway this is Davey, Les, and Sarah. Davey’s our spokesman for the strike, Les is our secretary, and Sarah, she just wanted to come along for the trip.”
Rafa smiled at Sarah, a rare sight, “You should. Don’t let the boys have all the fun.” She winked at Sarah, “Boss should be out in a minute. I gotta get the little ones to bed. Good seein ya, Jack.”
Jack smiled at her, “You too, Rafa.”
Jack glanced over at Sarah, she was blushing, probably because Rafa had flirted with her. Which was a good thing, Rafa flirted with any pretty girls, and it was good to know Sarah wouldn’t be turning her in anywhere about it. Or him for that matter. If she found out.
The newsies had always been very accepting of being who you were and loving who you loved. But outside the lodging house other people didn’t see it that way. They had to be careful, and when new people like the Jacobs showed up, well, you couldn’t be too careful. But it was looking like they were at least not going to be hostile about it, assuming Davey and Les were aware of what Sarah was going through.
Spot opened the door to his room. The only one in Brooklyn with his own space. When the weather was too rough for the penthouse, or it was too cold for Crutchie, the two of them still stayed in the same room as the rest of the newsies. But him and Spot led different lives, and Jack was in no place to judge what he did.
“I know why ya here, Kelly.” Spot Conlon was big. Not in height, he stood about as tall as Crutchie, but in muscle. And the way he held himself commanded a room. Few other boys could do that.
Jack flashed a smile at him, “Good. This should be over quick then. But, there is one other thing I’d like to ask about, not something worth makin a trip over for, but since I’s here…”
Spot gestured him into his room. On top of his bunk, he’d gotten a small table that he did business at. Another perk of having his own space, he could make deals in private. “Who’re ya lackeys?”
“Part of the Union,” Jack said. “Also thought it’d be a good time to introduce ya. They’re new.”
Spot nodded, “Name’s Spot Conlon, I’m the King of Brooklyn.”
“I’m David, these are my siblings: Sarah and Les.” Davey stuck out his hand to shake Spots.
He took it. “Nice to meet ya.” He turned back to Jack, “So Kelly, I assume you’re here to get time to join your strike?”
Jack nodded, “If we can rally enough newsies we have a chance at stoppin the wagons tomorrow. The other boys are talking to the other neighborhoods.” He made a point of saying that, so Spot really felt the absence of Racetrack. Not to hurt him, but to prep him for when he was going to grill him about that.
“Well, we’ll join the strike. But, not yet.” Spot leaned forward in his chair, “I didn’t start this and I ain’t endin it, ‘specially if my kids are at stake. You prove to me this is your fight and we’s just back up, you ain’t gonna run soon as the Bulls show. We’re in. But I can’t take the risk otherwise.”
Jack sighed. The good news was: it wasn’t a flat no. The bad news was: they needed Brooklyn, as soon as possible. But he couldn’t argue with Spot’s reasoning. If he were in his position he’d say the same. “I get it. Can’t even argue with ya on that. No convincin ya to come tomorrow?”
Spot shook his head, “You deaf or what? No.”
“Just had to check,” Jack said. He spit into his hand and held it out, “Deal?”
Spot did the same, “Deal.”
“Now, about the other thing,” Jack said, “I offered any one of my boys to come over here. Not a single one volunteered. What’s that about?”
“Jack I’ve got a reputation across the city, you’s so shocked to believe your boys are scared of me?” He asked.
Jack shook his head, “Nah, but I am shocked that Racetrack volunteered first for Midtown.”
“Midtown!” Spot took a second to collect himself after that. He shook his head, “What’s goin on there, it’s personal. Just between me an him.”
“I gotta make sure, Spot. He’s my little brother, you understand?”
“I didn’t touch im if that’s what you’re asking. He left with no more bruises than he came in with,” Spot said. “Anything else that might have hurt him, well, you can tell im I didn’t mean it. But, I ain’t sayin anything else in front of strangers.”
Jack nodded. “That’s all I needed to know. I’ll pass the message on.”
Spot stood, and Jack followed suit. This was going to be the end of their meeting. “Thanks, Kelly. And—and you can tell him I’m ready to talk. Whenever he is.”
“I will,” Jack said. “Okay well that’s all I had for ya so, we better get goin before their parents worry.”
Spot nodded, “See ya around Cowboy.”
Jack groaned, almost no one used the old nickname he used to use anymore. “See ya around, Brooklyn.”
—
They were making their way back to the Jacobs house, and then Jack would head home to the lodging house. Les pulled on his sleeve, “What’s going on with Spot and Race?”
He heard Davey and Sarah take in a sharp breath at the same time, but neither of them stopped him. He took a deep breath, unsure what the kid was going to think about them now. “Well kid, if I tell ya you can’t tell anyone who’s not a newsie, okay?”
He nodded, “Except for Sarah, because shes here.”
“Oh of course,” Jack said, “And I don’t think she’s going to tell anyone anyway.”
It wasn’t a threat. Anyway all he had to go on was a vibe. And he didn’t care anyway. If Sarah like women, good for her honestly. Women were hot. Like objectively.
“Anyway,” he said. He glanced around to make sure they were alone on the street. And sure there were a couple of people here and there, for the most part they were alone. “Racer and Spot are…they’re a couple. And I don’t know what’s goin on but as Racer’s big brother it’s my job to make sure the people Race loves don’t hurt him.”
“So,” Les said slowly, “They love each other even though they’re both boys?”
Jack felt his heart racing, and that it had frozen, all at the same time. “Yes. Is that okay?” He could feel himself shaking. This would be it. And if it wasn’t okay…he’d put his brother at risk. Which was a stupid move.
“I—“ Les stopped. “It’s not allowed though. Only men and women love each other, right? How does it work?”
“Sometimes it just happens, Les,” Sarah said. “It’s not—it’s not any different.”
“How do you know?”
Forcing someone to share something that personal wasn’t his plan at all. “Les—“
Sarah shook her head, “It’s fine Jack.” She stopped and got down on his level. “I know because I like girls, Les.”
“Woah,” he said. “Really? Is that why you don’t have a boyfriend? Do you have a girlfriend?”
Sarah sighed, “No Les. I do not have a girlfriend.”
“Oh,” Les said, “Jack, do you have a girlfriend?”
“Uhh, no,” he said. “I do have a boyfriend though.”
“Oh, cause you were flirting with that reporter,” he said.
Jack laughed. “Well, sometimes I just like flirtin. No one beats my guy though.”
“Okay.”
—-
Jack dropped the Jacobs off at home. He made his way back to the lodging house. Some of the kids were waiting for him when he got back, including Race.
“Hey.” He dangled off the side of his bunk, cigar hanging from his mouth.
“Hey,” Jack said back to him, “I talked to Spot Conlon.”
Race nodded. “You said you would.”
“What happened? Between the two of you,” Jack asked. “Normally you’re my pigeon to Brooklyn.”
“What did he tell you?” Race asked. “I know you asked him about it. Too in my business to leave it.”
Jack sighed. He didn’t want to bother Race but he also wanted to make sure he was okay. Especially since he was dating the king of Brooklyn. “I'm not tryin to pry but I just wanna make sure you’re okay. He told me he didn’t hurt you. And if he said anything that did he didn’t mean it and yous free to talk to him whenever you’re ready.”
Race nodded. “Was just personal stuff. Nothin you gotta worry about.”
“Okay,” Jack said. “I trust ya. Now go to bed we’ve got a strike in the mornin.”