My Poor Head Is Spinning

Chapter 3

"Jack, you really don't like to lose." Crutchie grinned. All the boys were sitting on the floor in front of the couch playing cards. We were in the kitchen, Elmer standing beside his chair. Jack was now standing as well. So was I. Crutchie was now standing beside me, accessing the situation.

"It's a good thing I didn't lose." Jack shrugged. Elmer gaped.

"C'mon, man!" I took my ragged hat off.

"I beat you." My twin finished for me.

"Okay, Crutch, whaddya think?" Jack asked, turning towards the cripple. "Who do you believe?"

"Well, it ain't a matter of who I believe--" Crutchie started, looking a bit baffled.

"I'll stop interrupting, but whaddya mean?" Jack stopped him, green-ish eyes squinted.

"I saw it." Crutchie told him.

"What did you see?" I asked, glancing at the blond boy. I noticed that when I looked at him, he stiffened the tiniest bit.

"Well, uh, Jack. You lost." Crutchie stammered, looking down.

"Damnit!" Jack exclaimed, slamming his hand onto the table. Crutchie flinched. Jack gave his best friend a hug. My heart swelled at the sight, it was adorable. Then I glanced at my brother and we both made a face, the kind that reads Aw, so cute. Jack turned.

"What, you've never hugged your friend before?" He demanded. Elmer and I hugged each other. He counts as my friend, right? Almost as if he was reading my mind, Jack spoke again. "That don't count."

"Jojo?" I called to the circle of boys. A head popped up in response. I beckoned him over, and he came. I hugged him. He was like a puppy. Honestly, I could imagine him with a wagging tail.

"Okay yeah, I got it." Jack scoffed.

"Thank you." I grinned at him, and he smiled back then went back to the card game. Then my brothers face lit up in excitement.

"Crutchie, can you sit down?" He asked. Crutchie's brows furrowed but did what he said, propping his crutch on the table. Elmer sat down as well, holding hand out for another arm wrestle.

"You's gonna fight a kid with a bum leg?" Jack gaped.

"It's not fighting." Elmer shook his head, gripping Crutchie's hand

"And it's my leg, not my arm." Crutchie told Jack. "My arm works fine."

"Yes sir." Jack laughed, allowing the arm wrestle. "Go!"

The instant it kicked off, Elmer had Crutchie's fist close to the surface of the table. Crutchie was making a stressed face, but I couldn't quite tell if it was real. Then, Elmer's hand was slammed onto the table.

"What the hell?!" Elmer exclaimed.

"See, I's been carrying myself on my crutch since I was little." Crutchie explained, beaming. I shuffled over to Jack.

"Can I talk to you?" I asked. He nodded, and before we went up to the roof I looked at Elmer, notifying him that I'd be back. He continued chatting with Crutchie as Jack and I went up the rickety flights of stairs. The cool July breeze hit me as soon as we went up onto the roof.

"What's up?" Jack asked, leaning over the metal rail.

"Why did Crutchie flinch when you hit the table?" I asked, copying his motion.

"He's had some bad experience." Jack told me slowly.

"What do you mean?" I cocked my head.

"You's been here for, what, five years?" Jack asked. I nodded. "And he's never sold with you?"

"Yeah, why is that?" I asked.

"The scum folks in Manhattan like to pick on him." He explained. "Like, they'd hit him, throw things at him..."

"That's horrible." I murmured, gazing down at the dark, empty streets.

"How else would he have gotten all those bruises?" He asked, seemingly to himself. "A lot of times, its the Delancey brothers that do it."

"Next time I see them--" I started.

"You ain't gonna do anything." Jack told me firmly. "If you do anything, they's gonna take it out on him."

"Who does he sell with?" I inquired.

"Me." The brown haired boy said. "But we can't sell as close as you and Elmer because the folks'll play favorites. They pity him, so he doesn't like to sell close to anyone if that means they get less dough."

"Oh." I nodded.

"I dunno how he stays so happy." Jack mumbled, running a hand through his hair.

"Maybe because he has a friend like you?" I shrugged.

"Maybe." He sighed. "Or maybe... Nah, nevermind."

"What?" I glanced back at him, a strand of black hair falling into my face. I moved it behind my ear. My hair is getting kind of long.

"Nothing!" He said hastily, pushing away from the metal rail.

"Jack!" I urged, stuffing my cap into my pocket.

"Look, don't tell him I's tellin' you any of this." Jack turned back towards me. "He talks about you sometimes."

"He does?" My brows furrowed.

"It ain't in a creepy way." He added.

"No no, I mean--" I started, but was cut off.

"He's happy, and that's a good thing." Jack finished. I nodded in agreement.

~For Instance, In Jack's POV~

"Hey Jack?" Crutchie asked as I put my vest on the metal rail for the night. I turned and saw him with a thoughtful expression, looking down at the dark streets. "Can I talk to ya about something?"

"Sure" I nodded, placing my cap on the metal floor.

"D'ya know if Millie's interested in anyone?" He asked slowly.

"Why?" I asked teasingly.

"No reason!" He told me hastily.

"Oh, there's a reason." I grinned.

"There's not!" Crutchie insisted, glancing back down at the streets.

"I dunno if she's interested in anyone." I told him. "Good or bad?"

"Both."

"Why both?"

~Back to the Present, Millie's POV~

"Let's go back down stairs." Jack suggested after being zoned out for a bit.

"Okay." I nodded, and we went down.