The Queen of Brooklyn~A Spot Conlon Fanfic

Chapter One: Carrying the Banner

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NEWSIES. The lines the newsies speak are tweaked (but mostly the same lines) from the Disney movie (let out in 1992). All rights reserved to Disney. I did add scenes into this novel, though, and those I do own. Thanks, and I hope you enjoy my fanfic!

"All right, kids, wake up!" Mr. Kloppman says, ringing a small cowbell. "You kids have important work to do—after all, those papes ain't gonna sell themselves!"

I groan as I slowly pull myself out from under the sheets. "I was having the most beautiful dream," I tell Racetrack Higgins, my best friend, as I slide on my suspenders (I sleep in my clothes, there ain't no way I'm getting undressed in front of a bunch of boys) and my old, ratty shoes. "My lips are still tinglin'."

"A cute boy?" Race teases, and I stick out my tongue at him.

"No," I reply, ignoring his joke. "A leg of lamb."

Race nods wistfully, just as Kid Blink reaches out and snatches up his cigar. "Hey," Race protests, "that's my cigar!"

Kid Blink scoffs. "You'll steal another."

"Hey, bummers, we got work to do!" Skittery throws in, buttoning up his shirt.

"Since when did you become me mudda?" Buttons asks, narrowing his eyes.

Crutchie, a scrappy, skinny kid with one leg weakened from polio, limps forward using his wooden crutch. "Ah, stop your bawlin'," he tells Buttons.

"Hey, who asked you?" we all yell.

We head to the sink to wash our faces. We live in the Lodge House, with kind old Mr. Kloppman. He's great. The Lodge House is kind of like the Refuge, but a lot more nice...with a lot less crooked owner.

"I need a new sellin' spot," Crutchie says to Jack Kelly, our leader and Crutchie's best friend, as he limps over to the sink. "People are startin' to think I'm faking this limp. I need to go somewhere they ain't never seen me. Got any ideas?"

"Try Bottle Alley or the Harbor," Race suggests.

"Try Central Park, it's guaranteed," I add, brushing my long, wavy red hair into its usual messy bun and studying myself in the mirror. I have huge blue eyes and peachy-tan skin, with the longest strawberry-blonde hair you've ever seen. The newsies call me Red 'cause of it. Crutchie shoots me and Race a smile.

"Try any banker, bum, or barber," Mush adds.

Kid Blink laughs. "They almost all knows how to read!"

"I smell money," Elmer says, coming out of a bathroom stall as he buckles his suspenders.

Crutchie coughs. "You smell foul!"

"Met this girl last night," Romeo, our star flirter, adds, nudging Jack, who smiles tolerantly.

"Move your elbow!" Crutchie says to Boots, who's drinking water from the small fountain we have.

"Pass the towel!" Race says. I giggle at the sight of the soap all over his face, covering his eyes, just as Skittery says, "For a buck I might!" and throws the towel over his shoulder.

We begin singing. Sometimes our morning routine goes faster when we're singing. Sure, we're not worthy of gettin' into Medda Larkin's theater, that's for sure, but we don't judge each other. We're all poor, homeless kids—what's there to judge?

"Ain't it a fine life, carrying the banner through it all?" we sing as we tie our shoes (which are old and ratty with un-matching laces) and head out the door. Mr. Kloppman does a quick head count as we rush out into the early-morning streets of Manhattan, New York City. "A mighty fine life, carrying the banner tough and tall! Every morning, we goes where we wishes—we's as free as fishes! Sure beats washing dishes, what a fine life, carrying the banner home free all!" we sing as we hop over milk crates and dodge the citizens of Manhattan.