a nutcracker's collection of newsies | newsies one shot book

wing-tra-la / jatherine

Jack stood in front of Pulitzer's door, wringing his hat in his hands.

It wasn't like he hadn't knocked—in fact, he'd knocked twice. And still, no one had answered. He was beginning to think that the absence of a greeter was intentional. Perhaps they were hoping he'd leave. This thought made him all the more determined to stay until he was given an audience.

Five minutes later, or what he assumed was this, the door opened to reveal a maid. She had a stern look to her, and his already discouraged spirit waned further. The maid spoke before he could even attempt to pull out the old Kelly charm. "Pulitzer isn't here right now. Leave a message or come back later."

Jack deflated slightly at the news, trying to peek inside to get a glimpse of Katherine, but no such thing occurred. "You sure I can't just stay until ol' Joe arrives?"

The door slammed shut in his face as a reply.

On his way out, he was thrilled upon finding Pulitzer in a horse carriage on his way back, pleased that he wouldn't have to return after supper as he'd initially planned. "Hey, Pulitz-ah!"

Pulitzer turned towards him, motioning for the carriage driver to stop. "What do you want, boy?"

"I jus wanted ta know if you've ev-ah been in love," Jack said. "It's such a grand thing, ain't it? When yer in love, everythin' looks a little bright-ah."

Pulitzer was silent for a moment, before sighing and stepping out of the carriage. "Come inside, and make this quick. I do have other matters to attend to."

"Sure ya do," Jack said, following the man inside. "So, I had a request—"

"Take a seat," ordered Pulitzer, taking one for himself. Jack gritted his teeth at the interruption. "Take a seat, and tell me what you want from me."

"I don't want no seat, Joe; I want to get married."

Pulitzer blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

Jack straightened. "I want ta get married wit tha most beautiful goil in tha city."

There was a beat of silence, before Pulitzer scoffed, realizing his intention. "To Katherine?" Jack needed not confirm this, for Pulitzer already knew. "Absolutely not, and I will not tolerate this foolishness any longer! Get out of my office this instant!"

Jack held his ground. "I won't leave. Not 'til ya tell me why."

"Because you're a newsie!" Katherine's father was adamant, and Jack feared that this was the one thing the old man would not change his mind on. "If I let you take my Katherine, I have no doubt that you will let her cut herself with your filthy papers!"

Jack gaped at him. "I would nev-ah let her get hoit if I coulda helped it!"

"You have my answer," Pulitzer declared. "All you newsies are the same. Vile and dangerous. I will never give my daughter away to one of you boys."

With a heavy heart, Jack headed back out, hands in his pockets. If not for my papes, he thought, I would be married.

He would be married to the most beautiful girl in the city.

(521 words)

Ah, yes. Sadness. My specialty.

True as this is, the one shot was actually inspired by an old French folk song, Wing-Tra-La, about a tailor who's been told by the father of the woman he admires that he cannot marry her, because he could prick her with his needles.

- nutcracker645