Strikes and Ladders

Chapter Three: Walking and Talking

Davey and Racetrack walk together through the familiar streets of Manhattan in silence for a while until Race eventually strikes up a conversation. "So uh, I saw you and Spot talking up above the party last night. How'd that go? He's usually bitin' the head offa anyone whose comes close."

"Except you, I guess."

Silence. "Uh. Yeah. I mean. . .we aren't that close. I-I barely know the guy. . ." The newsie fumbles over his clumsy words, trying to save himself but just pulling a laugh out of his companion.

"You're a bad liar, Race." Davey chuckles. "It's okay. I know. I um...I'm the same. Y'know. As the two of you."

"Oh. Wait what? OH. " He finally understands and chuckles as well. "Sorry for the panic there, Mouth. Spotty's the leader of the Brooklyn boys, they look up to 'im. It'd break their hearts if he got beat up or arrested on account'a the wrong kinda person findin' out about us. He can't afford it." That settles the boys' laughter, leaving a solemn quiet in its wake as they near the Brooklyn Bridge.

"I won't tell anyone, promise."

"Mouth, I know. Of course I know. You wouldn't hurt anyone that wasn't a cop, and theys barely people anyways."

Davey sticks his hands in his pockets as he walks. "That's certainly what everyone thinks. During the strike, I thought I was gonna strangle Jack a few times." This earns him a laugh from his companion.

"But you didn't. I woulda. I tried, but you know who held me back. Said I'd regret it if I did."

"You would've."

"Geez! I know! I didn't strangle him, did I? You and Spot both, fuckin' know-it-alls." Race rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, looking a bit like a petulant child.

"...I'm guessing you and Spot have discussed this. Maybe a few times."

"He doesn't exactly 'approve' of my 'impulsive tendencies'." Race says, putting air-quotes where he deemed appropriate.

Davey laughs out loud, drawing the attention of some nearby people and quickly apologising. "I wonder why," he pretends to ponder, but his mischievous smile gives him away. It also earns him a light shove from his companion.

"You're the worst, Dave."

"Sure. Mhm. The worst. Well, I'll ask Spot what he thinks when we see him. I know you value his opinion." His grin spreads across his face as he ducks away from another attack.

"Oh yeah? Well, I'll be sure to ask Cowboy about it once we get back. I know he can change your mind. On accounta his opinion and all." Race sticks out his tongue when he too needs to duck under a half-hearted attempt to cuff him around the head.

"Yeah yeah, rag on my pining while you sit pretty with your boyfriend," Davey mutters, looking like a child himself now with his crossed arms and hunched shoulders.

"There there, I can be your mentor! Your teacher. I's can give you the tools and skills you need to seduce one Jack Kelly." A grin and a nudge get Davey to unfurl slightly from his defensive position.

"I can't. Not now, not him. It's just a crush, Race, I'll get over it."

"Yeah you will! God knows I did." If he had been expecting a response, he wasn't going to get it because Davey was busy gaping at him.

"No way you didn't know. No way! Everyone knows! Me and Jack had a. . .thing a few years ago. Lasted longer than anything either of us have had since. Not countin' Spot, of course."

"You're kidding."

Suddenly there was another voice in their conversation. "He ain't."

"Spot! Damn, even with that cane of yours, you're quiet as a cat!" Race walks over and claps the shorter newsie on the shoulder, smiling much wider than he had been a moment before.

"Yeah, and you're about as dumb as a dog, so I guess it works out between us!" Spot's grin was full of teeth, riling him up on purpose. This got him nothing but a hard shove from Race and an arm around him from Davey to steady him as he almost toppled over.

"You okay?" Davey asks as he sets him back down, a hand still on his shoulder.

Spot nods quickly, almost too quickly, brushing off invisible dirt from his pants. "Yeah, just a bad day for my knee. Thanks for the catch, Mouth."

Race eyes them but doesn't say anything. Davey sees this and the subsequent look that Race and Spot exchanged with one another. "Anytime, Spot."

The shortest of the three nods. "Now, since the two of you have apparently been hanging around in my territory like bums, let's get yous to the meeting. You're both late." He grabs onto Race's collar and begins dragging him along. "You too, Mouth, or I'll drag you too."

The other boy nods a bit frantically and quickly picks up his pace to follow the others.