Those certain newsboys

chapter twelve

Hobble, Davey, Les and Katherine stood on the balcony of the theater. She couldn't hear Jack that well. "Well how about letting a pal know your alive!" Davey shouted. She rolled her grey eyes at the boy, a small smile of her lips. The four ran down the stairs. Well Hobble limped down. "I'll leave you with your friends." Medda said as she walked away. Hobble hugged him tightly, breathing in his scent. (I know it sounds weird but I find it comforting when your close enough to smell someone you care about) "Where did you go? We couldn't find ya." Davey asksd. Hobble nodded, pulling away from the boy. "You ever think I don't wanna be found?" Jack asked, looking at us. He grabbed a paint brush and went back to painting. "Is that a real place?" Davey asked looking at the painting. "That Santa Fe?" Jack was quite, still working on his painting. Hobble nodded. "Hey did you see the papes this morning? We're front page." Hobble said happily. "Above the fold. That's right. Above the fold!" Davey said, holding the paper out towards Jack. "Good for you." Jack scoffed, still working on his painting. Hobble frowned. "Everybody wants to meet the famous Jack Kelly." Hobble told him. "Even Spot Conlon sent over s kid to say next event you can count on Brooklyn. How 'bout that?" Davey added on to her. "We got stomped into the ground." Jack said, walking past then to the paint. "They got us this time, I'll grant you that, but we took round one. But with press like this, our fight is far from over." The boy tried to reason with Jack. "Every Newsie that could walk was out this mornin', sellin' papes like the strike never happened!!" Jack said angrily. "And I was right there with them! If I don't sell papes, my folks don't eat, but.." Davey started. "Save your breath, I get it, it's hopeless." Jack said cutting Davey off. "But then I saw this look on Weasel's face. He was actually nervous! And I realized, it isn't over. We got then worried—really worried. And I walked away.  And a lot of other kids did too, that's what you call a beginning!" Davey stated, Hobble nodding in agreement. Katherine and Les walked out from the background. "For cryin' out loud what does a fella got to do to get away from you people?" Jack cried annoyed. "Ah, there's no escaping us, pal. We inevitable." Hobble said in a matter of fact tone.

"So what's the story, can we have the theater?" Les asked excitedly. "Pipe down! I didn't ask yet." Davey told him quickly. "What's the hold up? I need to let my girl know we have a date." Les said, causing Hobble to giggle. "Your girl?" Davey asked walking to the young boy. "You heard me. I've been swattin' skirts away all mornin'. Fame is one intoxicating potion. And this here girl, Sally... she's a plum. " Les told his brother. Hobble laughed softly. Davey looked disappointed. "I heard you wrote a pretty good story." Jack told Katherine. Hobble went to Davey, standing on her toes to whisper to him. "Your just jealous you brother got a girl before you." She giggled, her warm breath fanning his face. He blushed. "S-shut up." He replied the girl giggling. "You look like hell." Katherine told Jack, her voice soft and caring. Jack went back to his work. "Hey, Jack. What's that supposed to be?" Les asked, looking at the painting. "Santa Fe." Hobble said with a dreamy voice. They looked over at her. "Me, Jack and Crutchie were going to go together." She said not meeting their gazes. "I gotta tell ya Jack. This whole 'go west young man' routine is getting tired. Even Horace Greece came back to New York." Katherine said to Jack who was washing his hands. "Yeah he did. Then he did." Les Les said, Davey hitting him lightly. "Aren't reporters supposed to be nonpartisan?" Jack asked Katherine, walking up to her. "Ask a reporter. Pulitzer had me blacklisted from every news desk in town." The red head replied. Hobble looked down, feeling guilty.

"Can't we table the palabber and get back to business? Will Medda let us have the theater?" Les asked, turning to Davey. Davey stopped his brother, walking up to Jack. "It's what I've been tryin' to tell you. We want to hold a rally! A city-wide meeting, where every Newsie gets a say and a vote; and we do it after work hours so no one loses a day's pay. Smart?" Davey said, seemingly happy with his idea. "Yeah. Smart enough to get you committee to a padded room." Jack said, drying off his hands after cleaning the paint of his arms. "Well the guy who paints pictures of places he's never seen is calling us crazy?" Katherine said, slightly amused. Hobble rolled her eyes. "You wanna see a place I've seen? Here you go." Jack said turning the canvas around. It was a painting of Pulitzer stomping on Newsies. Hobble's hand flew to her mouth at the painting. "Newsie square." Jack said. "She understands." He said looking at Hobble. "Thanks to our big mouths, filled to overflowing with failure. Kids hurt, others arrested." He said. She frowned. "Lighten up. No one died!" Davey shouted. ' a part of me did' Hobble thought to herself. "Oh, is that what your goin' for!?! Go on, go on, call me a coward, call me a quitter. Ain't no way I'm putting them kids back in danger." Jack said, sounding heartbroken. "We're doing something that's never been done before! How can that not be dangerous?!" Hobble shouted back at him. "Specs brought me a note from Crutchie at the refugee. I tried to see him. Went around back and climbed the fire escape. They busted him up so bad, he couldn't come to the window. What if he doesn't make it." Jack explained. "I got the letter too. And he will make it! Don't you doubt him!." Hobble said, tears threatening to fall. Jack tried to talk to her. "Tell me what good quitting does for Crutchie?!?" Hobble yelled at him. Jack froze, quite. "Exactly. So heres how it goes." Davey said