Dreams Change

Chapter 8

It hadn't been long before both Davey and Jack met me at the Bridge.

"Calm down, calm down," I heard Davey muttering to himself as we walked through Brooklyn's turf. 

"I am calm," Jack replied. 

"I was talking to myself," Davey stated. I laughed before patting his shoulder. 

"Keep your mouth shut and Spot probably won't even notice you're here." Jack sent me a look. We both knew that wasn't true, but the poor guy was shaking. 

"Hey!" A loud voice called out behind us. "What'd think yous doing here?" I turned to see two Brooklyn Newsies, slingshots at the ready. I didn't recognize either of them. (Most of the Brooklyn Newsies I'll be making up.)

"Flame, Rascal, funny seeing yous here," Jack said. Both boys glared at Jack.

"Kelly," the tallest of the two spat. "What're you and your bloody Newsies doing in Brooklyn? Thought Spot told ya to keep your rats out of our turf." 

"Wes here ta talk to Spot. Seen him around?"

"Sure wes seen him. Why'd ya need to talk to him?"

"That, my dear friend, is between us and Spot."

"While you ain't getting no meeting with him until wes here what its about." Jack opened his mouth to reply, but I cut him off.

"Before anyone has a cow, we need to talk to him about the strike. I assume yous know about it." The two boys exchanged a look.

"Who's the girl, Kelly?" Jack glared at the one who had spoken, the tall one. 

"Don't play dumb, Flame. Yous know exactly who she is." 

"Ah, so she's Racetrack's sista. Picture'd her ta be more pretty, but what can you expect?" The guy shrugged. I gritted my teeth, attempting to gain control of the words I wanted to spew at the boys. 

"What?" Jack spat. I laid a hand on his arm. 

"Jack, we can't be fighting with them, whatever they may say. We need them on our side if we're gonna win the strike," I whispered to him.

"Fine," he replied, though he looked still looked thunderous. "But as soon as the strike's over, I'm soakin' him."

"As long as you let me help." A playful glimmer lit up his eyes.

"Now that yous know why we need ta talk to Spot, will you tell us where he is?" Jack asked the boys. 

"Right here," another voice said stepping into view. Spot Conlon, King of Brooklyn. Followed by about ten Brooklyn Newsies. No one was lying when they said that the Brooklyn boys were big. "So, a strike, ey Jack? Ya really think you can beat Pulitzer?"

"If we didn't we wouldn't be striking," I replied. Spot turned to me.

"Well if it ain't Caz. Pleasure seeing you here." I glared at him.

"Wish I could say the same." 'Use your brain, nothing else.' Albert's words echoed in my head. I sighed. "We need your help."

"And what makes you think Brooklyn is going to help you?" Flame asked. 

"Because if we don't stand with each other, all of us will fall. Including Brooklyn," I replied.

"Are you telling me that Manhattan dragged all the Newsies into this mess and now you want us to pay for it?"

"Are you telling me that you're willing to give Pulitzer exactly what he wants? We made a decision to stand up for what we believe in. We didn't drag anyone into anything unless they wanted it. And now we're asking for your help, not because we want it, but because we need it. As much as it pains me to say, we can't win this battle without you." I paused for a moment. "Please, join the strike and help us show Pulitzer that we won't be bullied because don't think that this is the last time he'll do something like this. We have to show him now that we aren't willing to let him push us around like we're nothing, and that we will fight for our rights. If we don't, then we lose every part of who we are." It was quiet as the boys around me took in my words. "Are you willing to risk that?"