Chapter 1- Stage and ToT
“Oi, do we really have to do this?” A teenage girl asked, looking at the newsboy cap in her hand. Her dark brown hair was twisted up upon her head and she wore the usual dress of a paper-seller. A thick accent hung in her voice of German portrayal. [AN: Pst, in other words, she has a German accent!]
“Don’t complain, ToT.” Another girl said, struggling to gather her short and light brown back into a pigtail. Finally satisfied, she tugged a cap onto her head. Her voice held a slightly different European intonation. This one was plainly Italian. “At least we found good work…”
ToT shot her an indignant look. “Being forced to conceal our gender does not strike me as ‘good work’.”
The other shrugged as began a search for her shoes around the incredibly small apartment. She was halfway under the bed before ToT came up with a new complaint about their situation.
“And what about this place we’re staying in, huh?” She asked, throwing up her arms. “Isn’t it a bit small for us?”
“Being an orphaned immigrant doesn’t exactly hand you the best credit.” Came the muffled reply. “Where are my shoes?”
“Next to the door. There’s only one bed!”
“So we’ll switch off.”
“This is not what I expected the ‘land of opportunity’ to be.” ToT grumbled, plopping down on the bed. “What makes you think they’ll treat us like one of their own?”
“Guess we’ll have to adapt a New York accent.” The girl replied, coming back with her shoes in hand. “The glass is half full.”
“Half empty, Stage. We’re not going to be able to pull off a New York accent.” ToT replied, sternly. Stage sighed in defeat.
“Guess you’re right…at least you’re better off than I am. Loads of people think the Italians are worthless parasites who drive honest-working people out of work. At least the German people can do stuff.”
“’Stuff’. You astound me with your words.” ToT replied with a laugh. Stage whacked her across the head. “Hey, watch it. It took me forever to get my hair up like this!”
“Prende il suo obiettivo su, perra.” Stage replied, tying up her shoes. ToT grinned at the insult and pulled her shoes on as well. The two left the small apartment and headed to pick up their newspapers.
“Suppose they see through our disguise?” Stage asked, nudging ToT in the ribs. She pause for a moment in thought.
“Then we run like hell.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Because I’m the brain of this operation.”
“What, and I’m the brawns? Hardly.”
“Look, there’s the boys from the boarding house.” ToT said as a large group of boys walked up to the newspaper gate. “Well, here goes nothing, eh?”
“I don’t know about nothing…”
“Just go inside, idiot.”
****
“Hey, Jack,” Racetrack said, hitting the taller teen in the back. “It looks like we have a couple of new Newsies around here.”
Jack turned to look where Racetrack had indicated. Sure enough, two strange boys were approaching. Short ones, too. The taller one wasn’t even halfway up to being six feet. Jack hopped off the platform and approached the two.
“New here?” He asked them. The two exchanged glances that clearly stated “Idiot”. Jack waited patiently for the answer. “Do you not know if you’re new?”
“You the leader?” One asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I guess you could call me that. Why?”
“Where’s the papes?” The other demanded.
“Not from around these parts, are you?”
“Naw!” They chorused in an awful Brooklyn accent.
“Right this way.” Jack said with a sweep of his arm. He led the way up the ramp and towards the grate of the distribution office. “Weasel, a hundred papes each for these two.”
“We can pay our own way, huere.”
“Why don’t you two tell me your names?”
“Yours first.”
“All right, fair enough. The name’s Jack Kelly.”
“Stage.” Stage said. Jack spit in his hand and held it out. Stage looked down at it for a moment, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. “Lovely way to spread disease, Jack.”
“Er…right…what about you, shortie?”
“Call me that again and I’ll kill you.”
“What's your name?”
“Forgot.”
“Ok, Forgot.”
“No, damn it!”
“’No damn it’?”
He looked ready to kill. Stage intervened quickly.
“His name is…uh…well, tell them.”
“Slingshot, thank you.”
“All right, Slingshot and Stage. This is Mush, Racetrack, Blink, Boots, Dave, Les, Dutchy, and Specs. You can get to know the rest later.”
“Indeed?” Slingshot asked in a rather sarcastic tone. Stage was eyeing Specs oddly. Specs blinked a few times and glanced over at Dutchy. Dutchy shrugged his shoulders and Slingshot hit Stage in the stomach with his stack of papers. Stage cleared his throat, smiled, and juggled the papers into his arms.
“Sorry.” He murmured to Slingshot.
“Ready for me to show you two the ropes?”
“What ropes?” Stage asked.
“I think we can manage, Jackie-boy.” Slingshot said flatly. “Let’s go, Stage.”
“Bye y’all.” Stage said with a malicious wink. The two hopped off the platform and headed out the gates.
“Those two are the strangest I’ve ever met.” Jack muttered, turning to get his papers.
****
“’What ropes’?! Honestly, Stage. You just love to make a fool of yourself, don’t you?” ToT scolded once they were out of earshot. “And the way you were oogling Dutchy.”
“Specs.” Stage corrected absentmindedly.
“Whatever. One of the ones with glasses.” ToT said, dismissing the subject with a wave of her hand. “Any good headlines?”
“Eh. Unless you want to spice up an oil spill in the Washington territory. Ruined all the fur trapper’s pelts.” Stage replied, her nose buried in the paper.
“Wonderful.” ToT pointed to a crowd. “Let’s spilt up in there.”
“All right.” Stage said. “Good luck.”
Chapter 2-"I don't like boys"
“So Specs,” Dutchy said, jogging up to walk next to his friend. “Seen the way that Stage looked at you. I think he likes you.”
“I don’t like boys, Dutchy.” Specs replied.
“You like me, don’t you?”
“Not like that!”
“It’s never too late to start.”
“Are you implying that I should like you?”
“Naw, I say go after Stage.”
“Dutchy, go soak your head, huh?”
“Did you two see those new guys?” Blink asked, jumping in between Specs and Dutchy. Out of absolutely no where. Specs was—needless to say—offended.
“How much did you hear?!” He demanded.
“Enough.” Blink replied. “Right, Mush?”
“Yep!” Dutchy and Specs jumped as Mush’s voice came from directly behind them. “Those two have sort of a ‘pretty boy’ look about them, huh?”
“Hm, feminine guys…” Dutchy mused. “I suppose if you did a little imagining—”
“Stop, stop, stop, STOP!” Specs yelled, storming away.
“Looks like we’ve upset him.” Dutchy chuckled.
“But on that tweaking issue,” Mush began, grinning like a maniac and his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Which one’d be cuter?”
“I don’t believe we’re even imagining this!” Blink exclaimed.
“Imagining what?” Racetrack asked joining them from an alley.
“Which of those new guys would be cuter if they were girls.” Mush told him. Racetrack folded his arms and reflected for a moment.
“Well, this is an interesting topic.” Racetrack paused again. “I don’t know. That Sling’s a bitch…the other’s just odd.”
“Well yeah! But which’d be cuter?”
“Is that all you think about, Mush?”
“Pretty much.”
Racetrack walked off shaking his head and muttering something under his breath.
“Dutchy, you’re straight, aren’t you?” Blink asked suddenly serious. Dutchy looked scandalized and his mouth dropped open in shock.
“Yeah!” He sputtered.
“Hey, doesn’t hurt to check.” Blink said, holding up his hands.
“Arent you?”
“Yeah.” Blink replied. Dave approached Mush and the two who were still debating.
“Are guys ok? You just kind of stopped walking.”
“Are you straight?!” The two chorused, turning an accusing glare on Dave. Dave faltered and blinked rapidly.
“Uh…”
“He isn’t!” Dutchy exclaimed. “I’m not sleeping in the same room with you ever again!”
“You don’t…have to…” Dave replied, slowly. “And I think you two have been sneaking drinks.”
“He has a point, you know.” Blink said.
“About the drinks?” Mush spoke up.
“We’ve been drinking? Since when?” Dutchy asked, bewildered.
“I think you three need sleep…” Dave mumbled.
“We weren’t playing poker!” Mush shouted. “Not last night anyway!”
“You guys talk loud.” Slingshot snapped. All four jumped and whirled around, looking as though they had been caught doing something they shouldn’t be doing. Slingshot and Stage had identical accusing glares on their faces.
“Pst, how much do you suppose they heard?” Mush asked.
“It couldn’t have been that bad.” Dave mumbled out the side of his mouth. “We were just talking about drinks and poker.”
“Errrrm…not quite.” Blink said nervously.
“Oh?” Stage asked. “What else, then?”
“Uh…,” Dutchy did some quick thinking. “Manly stuff.”
“Well, we’re all men here.” Slingshot pointed out. Well, sort of…
There was an awkward silence as the four newsies thought desperately for an excuse. Stage waited patiently with his arms folded. Slingshot, on the other hand, was looking quite impatient.
“Dinnertime!” Mush yelled suddenly. Slingshot and Stage both looked up to the sun.
“What are you talking about? It isn’t even noon yet.” Slingshot replied. They both looked back to the street where the boys had been standing just in time to see them jump over a wall and out of sight.
Chapter 3- "Newsies are bad liars"
“Extra, extra! Oil spill in Washington territory, lives at stake!” ToT yelled as she expertly weaved her way through the crowds of people. She sold a paper here and there and then spotted Stage.
“Hey, Stage! How’s the paper-selling?”
“Eh, its all right.” Stage replied. “How many do you have left?”
“Mm…” ToT counted her papers. “’Bout fifteen…you?”
“Twenty.”
“This is slow work…” ToT complained as they emerged from the crowd and skirted around the edges.
“Stop, stop, stop, STOP!” A familiar voice yelled from across the square. ToT and Stage both turned. Dutchy, Blink, and Mush were all laughing as Specs stormed off. Dutchy said something they didn’t quite catch so the two crept closer.
“…On that tweaking issue, which one’d be cuter?” Mush’s voice asked. ToT and Stage exchanged confused glances.
“What are they? Gay?” ToT hissed.
“The sweet ones are gay, the quiet ones are freaks, and the pretty ones were busily admiring themselves when the brains were passed out.” Stage replied.
“What the hell’s that suppose to mean?”
“I don’t believe we’re even imagining this!” Blink’s voice came next.
“Men are weird.”
“Duh. Shall we listen?”
“Why not.”
Footsteps on cobblestone… “Imagining what?” asked Racetrack.
“Which of those new guys would be cuter if they were guys.” Mush told him. There was a pause.
“Did he…just say what I think he did?” Stage demanded.
“Iiicckkk…” ToT complained, twitching.
“Well, this is an interesting topic. I don’t know. That Sling’s a bitch…the other’s just odd.”
“Damn straight!”
“Shh!”
“Haha, odd one.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Well yeah! But which’d be cuter?” Mush said.
“Is that all you think about, Mush?” Asked Racetrack.
“Pretty much.”
“Never going ‘round him again.” Slingshot mumbled. There were footsteps heading away on cobblestone.
“Dutchy, you’re straight, aren’t you?” Came Blink’s serious voice. There was a long silence.
“Suppose he died from shock?” Stage asked.
“We can only hope.”
“Heh.”
“Yeah!” Dutchy exclaimed.
“Hm. Damn.”
“Hey, doesn’t hurt to check.” Blink replied.
“Aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” Blink replied. More footsteps.
“Are guys ok? You just kind of stopped walking.” Came Dave’s voice.
“Are you straight?!” Dutchy and Blink chorused.
“Uh…”
“He isn’t!” Dutchy exclaimed. “I’m not sleeping in the same room with you ever again!”
“You don’t…have to…” Dave replied, slowly. “And I think you two have been sneaking drinks.”
“He has a point, you know.” Blink said.
“About the drinks?” Mush spoke up.
“We’ve been drinking? Since when?” Dutchy asked.
“I think you three need sleep…” Dave mumbled.
“We weren’t playing poker!” Mush shouted. “Not last night anyway!”
“You guys talk loud.” Slingshot snapped, coming out. Stage quickly followed him. The looks on the boys faces were priceless. Stage snorted in an effort to hide laughter while Slingshot frowned deeply to hide his own smile.
The boys, now looking rather panicked made some excuse and scurried off.
“Newsies are bad liars, eh?” ToT asked.
“They’re cute when they stutter…well, some of them.”
“Uh huh.”
“You’re not exactly a good liar yourself.”
“What's that suppose to mean?”
“It means I can see through that front of yours.” Stage grinned. “And I’m hungry.”
“Don’t change the subject, I don’t care.” ToT snapped.
“You will once you starve to death. You’re already skin and bones.” She commented, poking ToT. ToT batted away her hand with mock annoyance.
“All right, Pig. Let’s go eat.”
“Don’t call me that. I’ll beat you up!”
“No you wont.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I wont.”
“I’m always right!”
“Debatable. What do you want to eat?”
“Lets go catch up with the guys and see if they know of any good places.” ToT said. Stage smirked at her. “No! No! Not like that!”
“Uh huh. Sure, ToT.” Stage replied. “Look, they went this way.”
Chapter 4- "Ouch, that cobblestone's painful"
“Woo. That was a close one, eh?” Blink said, stopping to rest. “Since when do they sell there?”
“They don’t. They’re new, genius. Remember?” Dutchy replied. Mush plopped down on the cobblestone and sighed. Dave leaned against a wall and ran his fingers through his hair. “We’ll have to be careful when we’re talking about things they shouldn’t overhear.”
“What did you guys do this time?” Specs asked, getting up from the fence he was perched on. He walked over and the color drained from four faces. Dave looked to Mush who looked up at Dutchy, who then glanced at Blink.
“Well see, the thing is…” Mush began, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. “We were kinda talking still after you left…”
“You know, about which guy was cuter. Er, if they were female that is.” Dutchy added quickly.
“Yeah, and…?”
“You musta’ve caught their attention when you stormed off, Spec.” Blink said, cautiously. “Because they kind of overheard the things we were sayin’.”
“They didn’t hear before that, did they?” Specs asked.
“Don’t think so.” Dave told him. “It didn’t seem like they knew about it anyway.”
“Can you help me up, Specs?” Mush asked, holding out his hand. Specs took it and hauled him to his feet. “Hey thanks, pal.”
“No problem.” He replied.
“Oof!” Blink cried out. Specs started to turn around before a body slammed into him.
“ACK!” He yelled, struggling against the headlock he was in. Specs and Blink barely heard the hysterical laughter from Dutchy, Mush, and Dave.
“Heya, Blink.” Slingshot said. Blink’s head swiveled to look at him, with both eyes. The patch was now halfway up his forehead. “Hey! You really do have an eye. Nice selling tactic there, kid.” He said.
“Shh, you crazy idiot! This is my selling area.” Blink hissed, pulling the patch back down and shoving Slingshot off him.
“Get off!” Specs exclaimed, struggling out of the hold and throwing Stage to the ground in the progress. “Are you insane?”
“Pretty much.” Stage replied, standing up. “Ouch, that cobblestone’s painful. I’ll have a bruise there.”
“Didn’t you know, Specs? Italians are a little crazy.” Slingshot told him, making the motion towards his head. “Little messed up in here.” [1]
“Make good food, though.” Stage insisted.
“Speaking of food,” Slingshot interrupted. “We need to get some. Know any good places?”
“You could have just asked, you know.” Specs muttered, rubbing his neck.
“You really don’t have to attack us.” Blink added, still adjusting the eye patch of his. “But yeah. Tibby’s is good.”
“Let’s roll!” Stage exclaimed, punching the sky. The boys exchanged glances, sighed, and led the way.
****
“Nice place.” Slingshot commented looking around.
“I don’t care how it looks, where’s the food?” Stage whined as his stomach growled. “Ooh! Let’s sit here!”
“How often is he like this?” Blink asked. “Stage certainly has a lot of energy.”
“He’s like this all the time.” Slingshot complained. “At least you didn’t have to be on a boat with him, or live with him.”
“You’re no picnic, either.” Stage shot back.
“You could live with us at the boarding house.” Dutchy suggested and he pulled out his chair and sat down. “All the Newsies in Manhattan are there.”
“No thanks!” Stage and Slingshot chorused.
“Uh, I mean…we have a nice place and…” Slingshot started a cover-up.
“We don’t like crowds—” Stage added, picking up on it.
“—to live in, that is—”
“—We’re quite comfortable. Really!”
“…” All four newsies waited in silence to see if they were done or not.
“Oh, look! Foods here!” Stage exclaimed, breaking the awful silence and taking the boy’s thoughts off their hasty decline of boarding. Slingshot was very interested in his coleslaw and pork chops. Stage was absorbed in digging the croutons out of his salad and eating them.
“Hey, there you are boys.” Racetrack said, coming into the restaurant with Boots and Jack. “Spot’s asked us to drop by Brooklyn today with the new ones.”
“Says he wants to see the ‘fresh meat’, so speak.” Jack said, looking at the two. Stage grinned, croutons forgotten and Slingshot smiled as well as he shoveled a forkful of pork chops into his mouth.