Spot fell asleep considerably early compared to the rest of the boys, he was desperate, if he slept through the waiting time it would come along faster. The next day he woke up at 6 am sharp, His body mechanically swinging into action, shoes on, shirt on and hair combed. As he had his hand on the door knob Jack woke up and threw his pillow at him, "Conlon wait, we'll form a search party"
"Jack, he could be out there, roaming the streets, I could find him."
"I know and we will find him, with a bigger group we have more coverage of the city"
"Can't wait any longer, it's been 13 hours"
"Just wait, I'll have the boys up right now, you can help, trust me I'm as worried as you are but we gotta be logical."
"You're worried! It sure as hell don't seem like it!" The anger had bubbled up in his chest again, he fought back tears yelling at Jack
"Spot, we ain't gonna argue about it, I want to get my second back as much as you want your boyfriend back, but like I said logical thinking works better than freaking out." Jack said face to face with Spot now, he tried to look menacing but, come on standing up to the King of Brooklyn was hard.
A few boys closest to their argument had woken up.
Spot took a step back, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. Heading over to the corner of the room to wake some littluns up.
They woke each boy one by one, Spot making sure they actually got up.
About 5 minutes later, all the boys were up and either dressing themselves or doing their hair.
As soon as they had finished, they huddled around Jack.
"Snipeshooter, Boots and Snoddy, you take Eastern Manhattan"
"Sure thing"
Boys left the room every 5 seconds as Jack instructed them on where to go. Spot, Jack and Davey left last, heading to the Upper East Side, the rich side of Manhattan. The moment they entered the Upper East Side, they were instantly glared at by each passing person, everyone they saw was dressed in thick fabrics and silk. Something the Newsies could never dream of. It was clear they didn't belong there.
"We sure Race is here" Davey said picking at his fingers.
"Worth a try, there is something not right about this, Race doesn't just disappear" Jack replied, worriedly glancing between Spot and Davey. Truthfully, when Race didn't appear in the early hours of the morning Jack had grown anxious, this wasn't like Race at all.
Spot kept his head held high scanning each side street looking for the same Italian boy who hadn't left his head since after the strike. He didn't have time to think of anyone else. With each step that he took he could hear his inner voice chanting, 'Race, Race, Race, Race'.
"Maybe we should check Sheepshead again" Spot murmured, turning around to check if the dark eyed Italian had suddenly appeared behind them. He hadn't.
"I suppose it worth a try"
After giving up on the Upper East Side, they headed across to Sheepshead bay, however as the left the richer Manhattan someone caught Spots eye, a red-faced, round man. He was familiar but Spot couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe he had sold him a pape before, but Spot had only really suck to people perhaps a social class or two above him, never anyone this rich.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Race woke again, still leaning against the cold concrete beam. His head pounded less, his legs were still in agony and the pain in his ribs was softer. The water still dripped relentlessly onto the floor. At least he could still stay hydrated. The light was still on but had got dimmer and flickered every now and then. Race may not be able to move far but he scoped out the room looking for possible chances of escape. Four walls made up the room, a block of stairs in the centre of the back wall, and three support beams were dotted in the centre of the room. No sign of the man, not a creak in the floor boards above. Despite the pain in his legs, he pushed himself off the floor, he walked with a limp towards the staircase, he had to catch himself from falling as he reached the newel post. However, he kept forcing his legs up each step until he reached the door. He jiggled the handle but found that it was still locked, he highly doubted it would be unlocked but it was worth a shot.
YOU ARE READING
A Drunken Mess: A Sprace Story.
RomanceA Drunken Spot sends a note confessing his love, to Race that causes some drama thanks to a certain Snipeshooter, fortunately this leads to a relationship which has its ups and downs and causes drama between fellow newsboys when Spot lets slip that...