Carry On

Chapter 10

Jack and Crutchie walked up to the ticket window at Grand Central Station.
"Two tickets to Santa Fe," Jack said.
"That'll be four dollars."
Jack counted out the money.
1, 2, 3, 3.50, 3.95...
"Damn it. Crutchie, you got a nickel?"
"Nope," Crutchie flushed bright red as he checked his pockets.
"I'll pay for it," said the man in line behind the two boys.
He was dressed well in a suit with black coat tails in the back. His blonde curly hair went down his face, like side burns, and morphed into a short, thick, blonde beard.
He reached up to the ticket window and set down the nickel, and another two dollars.
"Make that three for Santa Fe."
Crutchie beamed up at the man. "Thank you sir, that was really kind of you!"
"No problem," the man chuckled. He looked at Jack, recognising him.
"You're Jack Kelly! You did the art for 'The Newsies Banner.' You have real talent."
"Thank you, sir. My girlfriend at the time wrote the article. Man, Katherine could write..." Jack's face fell, thinking about how much he missed Katherine.
Crutchie whispered something in the man's ear. Jack could hear him say, "She's no longer with us."
The man nodded respectfully.
Jack continued the small talk. "Why'd you get the ticket to Santa Fe?"
"I live there. The name's Bert Moore, by the way. I own the Ovation Theatre there."
Crutchie's eyes widened. "Really? You must be stinkin' rich!"
"Crutchie..." Jack reprimanded
Bert chuckled. "It's alright. Do you boys have jobs waitin' for you in New Mexico?"
"Nah," Jack answered. "We're newsies. We work for Pultizer's paper, The World. But not anymore. We're goin' to where it's clean and green and pretty, and Palaminos are gonna take us everywhere."
"Well, I have a few job openings. I need a new set designer and stage manager, if you want to take me up."
The boys shared a glance, which meant the exact same thing: TAKE THE JOBS!
"Mr. Moore, I think we'll take you up on that."
**********************
The train pulled up to the station in Santa Fe. It was sunny and the two boys jumped around like they were children again. The 18 year old stepped off the train and breathed in deeply. "Soooo clean," he remarked.
The 16 year old hobbled over to a bench that read: REMEMBER THE ALAMO.
"Jack, look! A bench that isn't full of bird poop!"
The walk to the theatre was a matter of 10 minutes away.
When they stepped inside the foyer, Bert turned on the house lights and ran up to the stage to turn on the colored lights.
The boys marvelled at the sight. It looked like a palace. The seats were a red velvet with gold flowered pattern and trim. The mezzanine towered over the bottom with a superiority that could match that of anything but God, and the ceiling. Oh goodness, the ceiling! Golden chandeliers with metal leaves and flowers were magnificent, as well as the spectacular paintings of angels ascending the steps of heaven. The theatre was a holy place; you could smell the focus and passion in the building.
The whole experience reminded Jack of Clara. "Imagine the magnificence of the theatre," she had once said to him, before she had gotten her part in Brooklyn. "The splendor of walking on to that stage every night and influencing people's emotion. That's the reason I have devoted my life to the acting profession."
"So boys," Bert asked, "What do you think of my office?"
"It's amazing," said Crutchie.
"It's paradise," Jack added.
"It's your workplace," Bert added.
They stood there, transfixed, for what seemed like eternity.
"On the stage, boys," Bert shouted, suddenly.
Once they were settled, Bert addressed them.
"Jack, I have a brand new flat over there, I need you to start on a garden setting; next season's first show is 'A Midsummer Night's Dream.' Crutchie, I need your help finding a few props."
Jack got down to business.
He picked up the brush and dipped it in the blue paint. The brush felt so familiar in his hands as he crafted a beautiful skyline, with clouds scattered here and there. He payed more attention to detail than usual. He laughed to himself. Clara had influenced him more than he thought.
It was 7:00 in the evening when Jack had started on the greenery.
"Jack, finish your outline soon. It's time to head out," Bert said as he entered the stage from the wings.
"But we don't got nowhere to-"
"Jack," Crutchie shouted, obviously excited, "Mr. Moore is letting us stay with him!"
"Are you sure we won't be too much of a hassle?" Jack asked.
"Absolutely not! I have three extra rooms and no one to put in them. I live alone, so no one will mind."
"Thank you, sir."
"Please, call me Bert."
"Thank you, Bert!" Crutchie beamed.
Jack finished his outline just as Crutchie fell asleep in a chair. Jack chuckled and shook him awake.
"C'mon Crutch. We're going home."

-C ★