The bird of Manhatten

Chapter 16 - in which a bandana is stolen (borrowed)

June 1899
At many places is New York City
Magpies P.O.V.

I make my way over da Brooklyn bridge. It's hot. Da sun shines down from a cloudless sky. Da Brooklyn Newsies is swimmin' in da river foa sure. At da docks some guys wave me an' I wave back.
Then I reach Brooklyn. I walk along da main road, then bow into a smaller street on da left, then two times right, left again an' eventually reach a small store.
'Sawyer an' Sons' da sign over da door reads.
Mr. Sawyer sells all kinds of yarns, wool, fabric an' so on very cheap, but I have ta confess, I steal some yarn anyway. Every time I feel a little sorry, so I leave a piece of bread.
On my way back ta Manhattan, I see some guys soakin' a little kid an' have da super stupid idea ta step in.
"Hey!", I shout. "Let him be!"
Da guys turn ta me. Dey is pretty big an' don't look very nice.
"So?", one of 'em, a redhead, asks. "An' who is ya ta say dat?"
"Who is ya ta do dat?", I reply.
'My god, Mags. What is ya doin'?', my brain screams.
Da kid quickly stands up an' runs away. Another guy heads after him, but da one who spoke stops him. Looks like he's their leader.
"What's ya name?", he asks.
"Tell me yours, I'll tell ya mine."
"Aha. Ya think ya smart, huh?"
"No, not really."
"Where is ya from?"
"Don't know. New York most likely."
"Ya a Newsie?"
"Sometimes."
A blonde one grabs my shirt collar. "Stop playin' games an' answer him!"
"Let him go, Cat.", da leader commands an' da guy lets me go.
"So, little boy", he says. "I like ya. An' I'll tell ya my name. I's Snot."
I press my mouth shut, so I won't start laughin'. "Ya kiddin' me, right?"
"No, dat's actually my name."
"Really?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Interestin' name."
"Yeah right?"
"Mhm..."
"So, now ta ya. What's ya name?"
"Max.", I answer, an' pronounce it extra like da boys-name.
"Well... Max... ya from Brooklyn?"
"As I already said, I don't know. Could be."
"Ya know Spot Colon?"
"Was he da reason, why a soaked one of his birdies?"
"Maybe." Snot smirks like he wants ta say: 'What ya can do, I can do better.' But I ignore it.
"Whatever ya reason was, if ya wanna soak someone pick someone of ya own size."
"Like who?"
"Search foa someone."
"Oh, I think we found somebody.", da blonde guy smirks an' reaches foa my shirt again. This time I step away, before he can garb it.
"Funny.", I say sarcastically. "I's not nearly ya height."
"Ya haven't answered my question, Max.", Snot says. "Do ya know Spot Colon?"
"Who don't?", I question back.
"I mean personally."
"Well, I saw him once."
"Listen boy, I really like ya, but my patience is wanin'. I'll ask ya one last time. Do ya know Spot Colon?"
I open my mouth ta say something, but someone else is quicker.
"I know Spot Colon.", this someone says. I turn.
Four boys is standin' there. Two big an' two small ones.
I know da small ones. It's da boy from before an'... Spot Colon.
I use da short uncertainty of Snot an' his boys ta slip out of da hazard zone between da two groups.
"Colon.", Snot says hostile.
"Freckles." Spot smirks.
"Dat's not my name anymore."
"I don't care. Ya were Freckles when I met ya, so ya still Freckles. Anyway. What is ya doin' here?"
"Mind ya own business, Colon."
"Ya in Brooklyn. Of course, that is my business."
"Get lost, Colon."
"Ya picked on one of my Newsies an' a friend of mine. Ya'll pay foa dat."
Snots or Freckles or whatever his name is, looks at me. "Ya lied ta me."
"No", I answer. "I didn't say anything dat wasn't true."
"Magpie." Spot grabs my shoulder. "Ya should head home now."
"Ok...", I answer. "Thank ya."
"Thank ya. Bye."
I wave an' make my way home, promisin' myself never speak back on bigger guys again an', da more important thin', not ta tell Jack or anyone else.

Crutchie's P.O.V.
(Time skip to the next day, a Sunday)

Da stairs creak as someone's runnin' over 'em. A moment later, Jack comes in. "Where?", he asks.
"What?", I question back.
"Where's da bird?" Jack never calls Magpie 'da bird'. Even when he's angry wit' her, he calls her 'Magpie'. So, she must have done somethin' unforgivable.
"What... what did she do?", Race asks. He sounds scared foa some reason.
"What she done? She stole my bandana!"
"Oh shit." Now Race also looks scared.
"Yes. ... Wait. Do ya have somethin' ta do wit' dat?"
"No!", he answers quickly. Too quickly.
"Race!"
"Nothin'. Really. I promise."
I can see Jack doesn't believe him, but then he heads foa da door an' leaves. Two seconds later, he sticks his head back in an' says: "If ya see her, say her I'll kill when I find her." The he's gone.
I look at Race. "Ya dared her, didn't ya?"
"Um... no?"
"Race, ya so dead."
"I know..."