Hi, readers! I hope you're enjoying "The Queen of Brooklyn"! I have a warning for you: THERE WILL BE SOME VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER. It's not bad enough to rate this story as "mature", but it IS violence. Just a fair warning! Thank you!
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The next day, we're at a restaurant—Tibby's, we go there sometimes when we have enough money to get ourselves a seltzer or a slice of toast. Today, we don't have enough for any food, but we're each sitting around the tables, sipping glasses of water.
That's when Denton walks in, waving a pape in the air. He slaps down a twenty-dollar bill and a ten-dollar bill on the table and says, "One sandwich for each of these boys...and the girl. They all deserve it." I look at the people sitting at my table—Spot, Jack, and Race—with confusion. We deserve it how? Sure, we soaked a buncha bulls yesterday, but...the sandwiches here are $1 each. How does punching a couple o' guys in the face make us deserve luxury food?
That's when Spot jumps up. "Wait, is that—?" He doesn't finish the question.
"It sure is!" Denton says, slapping down the pape on the table. That's when I see it. It's a New York Sun pape, with the headline in big, bold letters: NEWSIES STOP THE WORLD! And underneath is the picture Denton took of us yesterday.
"No way," Jack says under his breath.
"It's us!" Skittery cries.
"Let me see!" Race says, pushing his way through the crowd of the thirty or so newsies gathered around the paper.
"Where's me picture? Where's me picture?" Spot cries, scanning the photo with his bright blue eyes.
"Would ya quit thinking about yourself?" Jack asks jokingly, and I laugh.
"Look at youse, Jack! You look like a natural!" Mush cries, pointing to Jack's picture on the page.
"Would ya get ya fingers off my face?" Jack replies, gently brushing Mush's hand away.
Davey turns to Denton with admiration in his features. "You got us in the pape."
"You got yourselves in the pape," Denton corrects. "I'm just here to make sure you stay there."
"Yeah, so we're in the pape," Skittery demands. "What of it?"
"Are you crazy?" Race cries.
"What's the matter with you?" Jack snaps. "You've been down all day."
"No I haven't!" Skittery protests.
Race shoves him. "You've been glum and dumb! What's wrong with you? You're in the papes, you're famous! You're famous, you get whatever you want! And that's what's so great about New York." He smacks the table, and we all cheer.
Out of nowhere, we break into song—I guess we just do that when we're happy now.
"A pair of new shoes with matchin' laces," Mush sings.
"A permanent box at the Sheepshead Races," Race adds. I remember Spot telling me about how Race used to go to the Sheepshead Races with his brother.
"A porcelain tub with bolin' water," Spot joins in. His voice is pretty good.
"A Saturday night with the mayor's daughter!" Kid Blink cries, jumping on the table.
Race leaps up onto another table and sings, "Look at me, I'm the king of New York! Suddenly, I'm respectable, starin' right atcha! Lousy with statcha!"
"Nobbin' with all the muckity-mucks, I'm blowin' my dough and goin' deluxe," Jack says, leaning back in his seat.
"And there I be!" Race points to his picture in the pape. "Ain't I pretty?"
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The Queen of Brooklyn~A Spot Conlon Fanfic
FanfictionMeet Clara Johansson: brave, independent, and clever. She's been a Manhattan newsie ever since her parents died when she was young, going by the name Red (for her naturally red hair). So what if she's the only girl in the group? The newsies are grea...
