Chapter 2 I Race

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My smile faltered. That was Spot Conlon? I'd heard of him. He was the King 'o Brooklyn. Brooklyn was the toughest and scariest borough in New York. That's its reputation at least. I ain't scared of 'em, hell I go down to Sheepshead bay everyday for the horse racing. But the fact that I fell in love with Spot Conlon killed me. There was no way Spot was gay, I stood no chance and that is one bet I could win any day. "I-I'se gonna go to bed," I mumbled. Mush stopped laughing. "Race, are you'se okay?" "Yeah," I said, "I'm fine."

The next morning I woke up early to head to the square and see the headline. I wasn't really in the mood to have to deal with Kloppman and the boys this morning. I spent all night wondering why I had to fall in love with Spot Conlon of all people. Like, there was nothing wrong with the curly, red headed, freckled boy I saw at Sheepshead yesterday, but nooooooo it just had to be the King 'o Brooklyn.

"How's it goin' Racetrack?" Bumlets asked, walking up to the statue I was leaning on "Peachy," I lied, "you'se?" "Not bad, just wish Kloppman would stop yellin' at us to get up," he said, rubbing his eyes from lack of sleep. Quickly, the other newsies joined us (against my will) and the Delancey's wrote what was new on the board displaying the day's headlines.

"New newsie price, 60 cents per hundred? You'se gotta be kidding me!" I exclaimed. "They jacked up the price! Ya hear that Jack? Ten cents a hundred! You know, it's bad enough that we gotta eat what we don't sell, now they jack up the price! Can you believe that?" Kid Blink said as Jack joined us. "This'll bust me, I'm barely making enough as it is!" Skittery said. "I'll be back sleepin' on tha streets!" yelled Boots. The other newsies added their complaints but Jack quieted them. "Pipe down, it's just a gag." He then went up and talked to Weasel about it.

"It don't make no sense. I mean, all the money Pulitzer's making, why would he gouge us?" Mush asked me. "Because he's a tight wad, that's why," I responded, sticking an unlit cigar in my mouth. I didn't smoke often. Cigars were expensive and I usually just used them as a source to fidget with. I can't stay still for the life of me. "They can't do this to me Jack," Blink whined. "They can do whatever the hell they want. It's their damn paper!" I yelled at him. "It ain't fair, we's got no rights at all, complained Boots. "Stop complaining will ya?" I yelled, "c'mon guys, it's a rigged deck. They got all the marbles." "Jack, we got no choice, so why don't we get our lousy papes while they still got some, huh?" Mush said, walking up to the counter. "No! Nobody's going anywhere. They can't get away with this!" Jack demanded, grabbing the back of Mush's shirt and pulling him back. Les, the new kid, David's, brother suddenly came over and shut everyone up so Jack could think. 

I was getting impatient. "Jack, you'se done thinking yet?" "Well, listen," He started, "One thing for sure, if we don't sell papes, then nobody sells papes. Nobody comes through those gates until they put the price back to where it was." He had to be kidding. I mean, ya boy's gotta eat! "You mean like a strike?" Asked David.  "Yeah, like a strike!" I decided to take one for the team and ask the one thing we probably were all thinking, "are you outta your mind?!" "What?" He said, "its a good idea." I shook my head, it was absolutely not a good idea. Like I said, ya boy's gotta eat. "Jack, I was only joking. We can't go on strike, we don't have a union," David tried to reason. It was too late, once Jack made up his mind, he ain't changing it. "But, if we go on strike, then we are a union, right?" Jack questioned. David rolled his eyes and shook his head. "No, we're just a bunch of angry kids with no money. Maybe if we got every newsie in New York, but..." Jack cut him off. "Yeah, well we organize. Crutchie, you take up for collection. We get all the newsies of New York together." "Jack, this isn't a joke. You saw what happened to those trolley workers." David tried. Jack just continued to be stubborn. "Yeah, well that's another good idea. Any newsie don't join with us, then we bust their heads like the trolley workers." Ooh, busting heads? Now I'm in. Plus it could help me get my mind off of Spot. We followed Jack out of the circulation center and out into the square.

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