Blitz: A Newsies Story

Chapter 16: The Princess of Brooklyn

((Hey fansies! I know it's been an incredibly long wait, and I am super sorry about that! (I know I say that every time, life is just super hectic all the time) I hope you enjoy this new chapter! I've been working on it for a while, just never got around to finishing it until now! Enjoy :) -Wolf))

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Chapter 16: The Princess of Brooklyn

I had never seen the Brooklyn Newsies lodging house before. It was built of red brick and had numerous tall, thin windows. There were steps leading up to the lightly-colored wooden door. "Welcome ta numba 61 Poplar Street," said Spot with a grin, gesturing at the building.

He led me inside, seeming rather proud of the place. "That there's the office," he announced, pointing at a room with a desk. An older man sat at the desk, a large book in front of him. He looked up as we entered. He recognized Spot and must have assumed I was one of the regular boys, so he nodded at us and then went back to looking at his book.

Spot then lead the way up the stairs. We entered a large room similar to the one I had seen in Manhattan, full of bunk beds and full of boys. There was, however, one thing that was different. While Jack shared a bunk just like the other boys, Spot had a bunk to himself. It was pulled away from the rest of the beds a little bit and stood next to a window. I peered out and could see the streets of Brooklyn below and the late afternoon sun washing over the people hurrying back and forth.

"It's nice," I said quietly, pressing the cloth to my head again and seeing that the bleeding had stopped. "Nicer than 'Hattan," said Spot with a laugh.

"You probably wanna get cleaned up?" he then said, eyeing the dirty, torn clothes I was wearing. I nodded. Spot climbed up to the top bunk of his bed where there was some stuff stacked up. He tossed down a worn pair of trousers and a relatively clean shirt. "Those outta fit ya," he declared. "Thanks," I said gratefully, folding them over my arm.

"Washroom's in the basement," Spot explained. "At the bottom of the stairs, it splits two ways; Left is the washroom, right is the dinin' hall, though it ain't as big as it sounds." I nodded. "Got it," I said, and I then headed back out of the room. I went down the first staircase, passed the office, and then went down another set of stairs. There was yet another set of stairs off to the far left, but the split Spot had mentioned was before me. I went to the left and found myself in the washroom.

There were several hand basins against the wall, with several mirrors as well. I went over to one of the basins and began to wash my face, cleaning off the dirt and dried blood. I then cleaned up the other cuts and scrapes I had gotten, removing as much of the dirt from my skin as I could manage. I then discovered an area with a few old, dented bathtubs. The tubs each had their own enclosed section for privacy. I slipped into one section and pulled off my dirty, torn clothes and put on the clean shirt and trousers that Spot had given me.

I then returned to the basin and washed my face once more to remove the last bits of dried blood from the gash on my head. When I looked up at the mirror again, a tall, solid, muscular boy with long, dark hair had appeared. I jumped, whirling around to find him standing behind me, regarding me curiously with fierce blue eyes. He wore black boots, pants, and suspenders, but no shirt. His long hair was tied back with a short piece of twine, similar to mine. "Hey," I said hesitantly, drying my face off with a relatively clean part of my torn, once-new shirt.

He continued to watch me for a moment before asking, "Who the hell'a you?"
Putting the shirt down on the edge of the basin, I held out a hand. "Jamie Conlon, but everyone calls me Blitz."
His eyes widened slightly as they shifted to my hand, but a moment later, he reached out and shook it. "They call me Bear," he said with a slight grin.
"Nice ta meetcha," I said with a smile.