Ghosts of the Refuge - A Newsies Prequel

Chapter Five

That evening, Patch sat on the stairs leading up to the water tower, watching the sunset. The pink and orange colors filled the sky and she was taken in by its beauty. She needed this; she had to distract herself from the pain of the world around her.

Jack Kelly was gone and he wasn't ever coming back. She had thought about him all day at the newspaper stand. As she sat on the stairs, Patch remembered Jack's face, the deep sorrow showed on it as he said goodbye for one last time. She remembered his reluctant handshake, and him saying her real name; Pascale. Patch had called him Francis, his real name that only she knew, as one finale blow to make him promise to never come back.

Spot soon came darting up the stairs. He took her hand and pulled her the rest of the way up until they were just below the circular reservoir.

"What's wrong?" Patch questioned, even though she knew the likely answer.

"I saw him, Patch," Spot said, his voice low and intense. "Snyder. He's in Brooklyn, and I don't like it."

Patch's breath caught in her throat. Knowing her father was in Brooklyn sent a shiver down her spine. She had always been nervous about her father coming to the borough again, knowing all too well what he was capable of. Her face fell, flashes of Florrie's face flickered in her mind.

"I...I'm nervous, Spot," she confessed, her voice quivering.

"Hey," he told her, giving her a small smile. "You're in Brooklyn, remember? We'll be able to take him down if he starts something."

"Thanks Spot," she grinned, knowing she would be protected by her friend, "what'll we do in the meantime?"

"I'll keep a lookout for him," he pulled his slingshot out of his pocket, and placed a rock in it. He pulled the string slowly, "and when I find him, I'll give him this." The rock flung into a glass bottle and it shattered into a million pieces.

Patch knew that Spot would protect her, but they had to have another plan just in case something went wrong. What if her father went after her newsies? "We can't let Snyder get his hands on any of our newsies, Spot. We've got to keep Brooklyn safe."

Spot leaned against the rail of the water tower, weighing their options. "We can't go head-on against Snyder for now. If I see him, I'll get him, but we need to keep a close eye on you. I mean you're the one he's after." He knew the perfect idea, "When you sell at the newstand tomorrow, we'll surround you with a few of our older, trusted newsies, just in case."

Patch nodded, the severity of the situation sinking in. "Yeah, but I want to be able to run if I need to. I won't sell at the stand until Snyder's gone for good."

Spot's eyes gleamed with determination. "Alright, we've got a plan then. We'll have Hawk and Sparrow tail you from a distance, making sure they're not spotted. And I'll keep an eye on you from the rooftops. That way, you'll always have backup nearby."

.

Jack knew that Patch held a special place in his heart. She had become like family to him, a constant companion in the struggles and triumphs of their newsie life. When Florrie, his little sister, had passed away, their bond had become fractured. He had given her space, understanding the pain and loss they both felt, hoping that time would heal them both. But it never was the same. The ache of her absence had lingered, a constant reminder of their fractured friendship.

Being with Crutchy earlier had taken his mind off things, but all alone on the boarding house fire scape, he couldn't shake the memories and emotions that flooded over him. Jack had seen Patch, their brief encounter etched into his memory. But what stung the most was the way she had pushed him away, making him swear never to see her again. Jack felt lost and abandoned all over again.

"You were gone longer than usual," Racetrack said, walking through the window and sitting next to Jack.

"I missed ya, Race," Jack admitted with a wistful smile.

Racetrack grinned, his accent thickening with the weight of the moment. "We missed ya too, Cowboy. Thought you'd gone for good this time."

"Nah, couldn't stay away for too long," Jack said, his voice tinged with longing.

"You know, Crutchy hasn't shut up about you and the governor's carriage." Racetrack laughed. When Jack didn't react to him, it led Race to believe he was upset. "Somethin's eatin' at ya, Jack. Talk to me."

Jack's gaze drifted towards the moonlit skyline before returning to meet Racetrack's eyes. "It's Patch," he confessed, a mixture of sadness and frustration in his voice. "She made me swear to never see her again."

Racetrack's brows furrowed, sympathy etching into his features. "She still blames herself for Florrie, don't she?"

Jack nodded, his eyes welling up with unshed tears. "We've been through so much together. And now she pushed me away like I'm nothin'"

Racetrack placed a comforting hand on Jack's shoulder. "Sometimes people say things they don't really mean, Jack. She's scared that Snyder will show up."

Jack sighed, knowing that his presence in Brooklyn had brought her father closer to her, "I know. I just don't understand her. I thought I gave her enough time to heal." His face fell, "I guess I was wrong."

Racetrack frowned, "I'm sorry, Jack. Hey," he said, trying to take Jack's mind off of things, "how about we get some dinner?"

Jack cracked a small smile, knowing what his friend was up to, "Thanks Racetrack."