I'll Always Look Out For You

23 | Last New Year | 15 Years Old

December 31, 1898-January 1, 1899. Last chapter before the strike. Enjoy! :)

Race has always liked words and numbers. And the certain looks or sounds they have.

Each year, he has to get used to a new sound of year. They are almost done with eighteen-ninety-eight. Now, they are moving on to eighteen-ninety-nine.

Race likes the sounds of that ninety-nine. And how the eight teen transitions to 99. He can get used to that pretty fast. But for now, he has to stick with December thirty-first, eighteen-ninety-eight. More 8's, but separate 8's. Not the same ring. If he could just switch the 9 and the 8, turn 1898 into 1889. But he likes 1899 even better. And the year after that...

1900.

Nineteen hundred.

They are 366 days away from the new century.

Race can't wait.

But does 1900 have the same ring as 1899?

No.

Then treasure 1899 as much as you can.

I still have to wait a day, though.

True. But then it's 365 days of 1899. The last 365 days of the 19th century.

Then it'll be the 20th century. That's gonna be something. Can't wait to say that. And see that. A new century. More than just a new year, a new decade. A new century. Think about that.

You know? I'll enjoy both years.

And so, satisfied with the conclusion of his little self-back-and-forth, he continues on about his day in the last day of the month, last day of the year.

Even though they don't have any big headline, people are ready to get their paper--the last one they'll get of the year--and get where they want to go and go inside. For that, Race has always sort of envied normal people. They don't stand out in the heat or cold forever. They have their reason for coming outside, and after the need is filled, then they can go. Newsies can't just go. They have to be outside all the time. What Race wouldn't do for a nice warm cup and a bunch of blankets and a day without a single newspaper. 

But that doesn't mean that Racetrack always hates selling newspapers. It can be fun. Really fun. He gets to put on a performance many times a day, and if he's good, he gets money in return. Something he's good at. It's like it was made for him. Taking a break, though, is definitely nice. Like how no newspapers run on Christmas. Sadly, though, that day has passed. Well, the idea of going inside when he's finished should give him some motivation to finish selling his papers.

And so he hitches a ride on the back of some unassuming carriage (not enough motivation to walk today, and it's far too cold for him) to head to Brooklyn.

Except, the first thing he does isn't head to Sheepshead. He can catch later races.

But for now, seeing Spot Conlon is his first priority. 

A lot of the time, Race doesn't know how to arrange his priorities. But in the moment, this is what he knows he wants to do.

The thing about Spot is that in the years that Race has known him, he's been working his way up in seniority among the Brooklyn newsies. More often than not, Race sees some newsie taking orders from Spot, who is much smaller and younger than most of them. But he must have something in him that's getting him this far.