Lady of the Bronx- Newsies

Chapter Twenty Five

Pov: Bambina

"When Stones was you'se guys ruler you had em!" Jack says, starting his story.

I give him a warning look, "We haven't had them in years, Cowboy.

"And only the older Newsies went to them. It wasn't very known." The parties were kept very hush hush, and they haven't gone on since I was twelve or so- when Stones left.

"Pfft- yeah right! Anyone who'se got ta come had a blast!" He carries on, ignoring what I said. 

I roll my eyes, "I didn't say it wasn't fun- I said that not many people knew about it, Kelly."

 Most people who knew about the parties where sixteen or older; but their were some exceptions, apparently Jack was one of them. 

"Excuse me, but er, what da hell are you'se two talkin 'bout?" Buttons says.

"Near da Bronx factory where the lot of em stay, there's an old creaky abandoned restaurant."

My brow furrows at the word creaky. What does that mean? I get so lost in trying to remember the word that I almost zone out when Jack continues the story.

"It used ta be some fish shop, an you'se can tell dat it was. Da smell lingered."

"Jack, really, I don't see the point in telling-" I start, but Romeo promptly shushes me. 

"Come on Den! Lighten up! An old fact 'bout da bronx aint gonna hurt anyone!" He says.

I shake my head, it's not about the story itself- its what made the parties end.

Once the boys find out about what happened they'll wonder why the partying ended- Why the Bronx isolated themselves from the other boroughs.

Sure, we were never close with Brooklyn or Manhattan. But we used to be close to Staten Island newsies.

The worst part about the whole thing is that I'm not even sure what happened. I don't know why we started isolating ourselves.

 All I know is that it's kept very quiet with my guys. Pete and Quinn haven't said much to any of us at all.

"An' once a month, they'se had a party.

"All da newsies used ta come, Brooklyn, Staten island, everywhere.

"Stones was a partier- and a big softie, that one. 'E would do em gatherings ta lift da spirts of everyone....

"What evea happened to im?" Jack asks, looking at me.

I try not to face-palm. "I'm not quite sure, but the Bronx newsies and I think he left to be with his girl."

He shrugs, but keeps talking. "There's would always be some rum an' music at em parties. Who used ta play the fiddle? Strings, right?"

Strings was a newsie when I was little, but as people do, he grew up. Once you get too old, no one wants to buy your papes.

Strings was always very nice to everyone he was around, I remember that he was good friends with Bites- another Newsie who outgrew the job. But Stones and Strings became best friends soon after they met. 

When Stones left, Strings did shortly after. I assumed he felt out of place without him. 

I remember him well, though. Strings was not an immigrant, but he was a migrant. His mother, father, and the vast majority of his siblings died from a fire. He told me as much as he could about it without scaring me. 

He explained that he had four siblings, named Ruth, Pearl, Tom, and Earl. He was the second oldest, Pearl was the youngest. Ruth was the second youngest, and Tom was the oldest.