8 Days, 8 Letters; Spot Conlon

The Grounds of Newsies

A/N: Hi everyone! Please enjoy this very sad chapter (it doesn't get much better from here. Good luck!) of 8 Days, 8 Letters.

Present Day: July 1899

Jaime's POV

We woke up to the metal of the bars echoing off the walls.

We all groaned as we were woken up.

"You have your court today," a bull informed us.

They couldn't have told us that yesterday.

We got up as they shoved us out the cell and back up the stairs. Thankfully there was less tripping this time.

They led us to the large court room as we waited for our judge.

A man with gray hair and a large mustache walked in and stood behind the judge's desk.

"All rise, all rise. Court is now in session," the Bailiff stated. "Judge E.A. Monahan presiding."

"Are any of you represented by council?" Judge Monahan asked.

The newsies looked around and mumbled.

"No, your Honor," I answered.

The judge looked at me and nodded his head.

"Good, good. That'll move things along considerably."

"Your Honor, I object," Spot protested.

"On what grounds?"

"On the grounds of Brooklyn, Your Honor," he said, confidentially before laughing with the newsies.

I shook my head and sighed.

If we had any chance of getting out of this, we've definitely lost it.

Thanks Spot. This is why I call you "King Idiot".

Judge Monahan's gavel banged on the table, grasping our attention.

"I fine each of you $5," he said, firmly. "Or, two weeks confinement in the House of Refuge."

We looked around at each other.

There's no way we can afford the fine, but the Refuge is basically a death sentence.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey. Hey, we ain't got 5 bucks," Race argued. "We don't even got 5 cents."

He fiddled with something in his pocket before laughing.

"Hey, Your Honor, how about I roll you for it? Double or nothing?"

The newsies laughed and I started rubbing my temples. At this point just give me the death sentence. Hell is better than this.

The judge was not amused by Race's "deal", if you could even call it that.

"All right, move along, move along," he said, shooing us out.

Denton came in and pushed through the wall of bulls.

"Your Honor, I'll pay the fines. All of them," he said.

He turned back towards the gate, allowing Davey and Les to come in.

"Come on," he mumbled.

Davey rushed towards us. I headed towards the fence between the main court room and the judge's area.

"Hey fellas, you alright?" he asked.

"As alright as we can be," I replied.

Denton leaned over the fence to whisper to us.

"Look, we gotta meet at the restaurant. Everybody. We have to talk."

We were interrupted by the sound of the gavel.