Newsies: On the frontier.

Chapter 4: Crutchie the Kind.

Hope you enjoy it!

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Chapter 4: Crutchie the kind.

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I left the abbey in a hurry, and soon it was far behind me. Lucky for me, they'd built the church on a hill, so running away wasn't so bad.

As I moved, I began to reflect on yesterday. So much had happened in only two days. I was just trying to get my head around it all. I felt so guilty for Oliver's death. That poor William. I even wondered if what Will said was true, and not just the anger speaking.

What if it was my fault? What if I hadn't of waved, and kept silent like I normally did.. maybe he wouldn't of died.

But I couldn't really afford to be thinking like that. I had to much riding on it. I couldn't waste time wallowing in self pity. This just wasn't about me anymore. This was about Oliver, William, Isaac and Sweets. It was about helping out newsboys when newsboys need to be helped out.

I pushed myself into the foul smelling city, even though my body refused in disgust. I had to. I ran down the streets. Woman howled in comments of how rude I was, and that 'Newsboys needed a good smack and an education'.

I held in laughter as I ran. I finally made it to the one place I loved about New York. The markets. I used to come here as a child with my mother. We would buy fresh apples and buy books and toys. I needed to buy a new bag. And I found the perfect one. On the far end of the hall, I spied a brown .bag. It looked old and worn. I stumbled over to the table. The woman sitting their looked old, and sad.

I reach for the sack and asked how much.

'A nickel.' She said. 'It used to be my sons, when he was a boy.' She said, holding back the tears. I nodded my head. You could see how the tears were about to fall, and how much sadness and emotions she held behind that wrinkled and worn face.

I handed over the change and made for the exit. Slinging the bag over me, I wanted to get out of their quick smart. I hated sticking around, I might cry if I stayed longer.

I moved out of the market place, as rain cracked in the sky and began to pelt down. The dirt roads turned to mud as I ran across the street for refuge.

As I rounded a corner, I was thrown down to the ground. I shut my eyes tight preparing for impact. My body hit the curb hard, mud splashed up my sides and splattered my face. I let out a high pitched squeal. I could feel the searing pain in my back where the ground had caught my fall.

'Oh! Yous' okay?' A voice called. I heard the crutch clatter to the ground as the boy knelt down. He gripped my shoulders and pulled me up. I opened my eyes slowly. He had a dirty face, but clear blue eyes. His caramel hair fell off to the side, but didn't hide his eyes.

'Are ya' okay?' He asked again. I nodded my head. I was in too much shock and pain to really reply. Tears were welling in my eyes. I couldn't cry. I couldn't blow my cover.

'De' names Crutchie.' He said, as he hauled me off the ground. He gripped his crutch to support him. He moved me off the street and down into a secluded part of the city. It was thick with smoke. One of the industrial parts of the city.

'Wats' yours'?' He finally asked. I assumed he meant my name.

So I quickly mumbled a reply. 'Archie.' I said, I took a deep breath and waited for him to comment on my voice, but he didn't.

'How comes' you ran intos' me? Are ya blind'?' He asked, his face showed that he didn't mean to come across so rude, but the damage had already been done.

'Yes.' I said. Great, now I'd done it. A blind newsies. I went along with it. I cleared my throat and began to lie.
'As a matters of facts, I is.' I said. I tried to not make eye contact. I forced my eyes to look beyond Crutchie.

'Oh.. Sorry, I - ah.. Didn't know.' He mumbled, moving with me through the alleyway. I nodded my head.

'Sokay'.' I replied.

'So.. Where are ya' stayin'?', he asked. I shrugged my shoulders. I was going to be truthful.

'Nowhere, I is homeless.' I said. Crutchie looked amused. I didn't find it at all funny.

'We all homeless. That's what makes us newsies.' He glanced over to me. Furrowing his brows. 'How cans yous' see where yous' goin'?' He asked. He had hit it, bingo. I had no idea how I'd get out of this one.

'I can't see.. I'm jus' guessin'. Instinct.' I shrugged by shoulders, I held my hands out in front of me to keep the act running. I wobbled on my feet, and almost knocked into Crutchie. We continued to stroll aimlessly through the lanes.

'What borough' you from?' He asked, he dodged a puddle, jumping across, swinging on his crutch. I felt like telling how skilled he was.. But I couldn't see it. I was blind. Right?

'Here, of course.' I said. Crutchie threw off an unconvinced face. He nodded in reply. I arched my brows to him, gesturing to tell me where he was from.

'Queens.' He smiled, perhaps reminiscing on happier times. I tried to avoid smiling, but let it slip. We walked through the lane until we hit the street again. We were silent for a long time. I could hear other newsboys greet Crutchie as they sold papers into inhuman hours of the night. I glanced around, Central Station clock struck midnight. That meant that the papers they had left over were useless.

'Wanna head back to the lodging?' Crutchie offered. I nodded my head in reply. In about five minutes, we came across a sad building. It had 'Boys Correctional House', written across to the threshold. I bit my lip as we both climbed the steps. Crutchie held the door open for me as we came in. As soon as we moved through, the musty smell of old dead stuff hit me. I screwed my nose up as we headed through the lodging house. The room was dreary and sad. There was a couch with spring and stuffing falling out, a stack of unsold newspapers sat on the right cushion.

Crutchie helped me up the stairs were a loud tapping sound, along with cheers rung out from the top. Crutchie began to laugh as we entered the room of boys. I immediately felt completely out numbered. They could see right through me. They weren't stupid.

I avoided eye contact as Crutchie introduced me.

'Dis' here is Archie.' He said. I sort of hazily stared at each one of them. But not long enough to give the effect of perfect eye sight.

Crutchie leant froward and whispered, but I still heard it. 'He's blind.' Mumbling broke out across the group of adolescent boys. Some smirked, some pitied me. A boy in the middle looked the oldest. He was taller, and stronger. He stuck out his chest. Taking in short breaths. I tried to avert my focus, but it was too late. He'd already caught me.

The group disbanded into smaller groups. Some talked quietly some played cards and gambled. I sat down on a bed Crutchie said I could have. He stumbled off to Jack, who stood on the edge of the stairwell. I may of been 'blind' but I wasn't deaf, or stupid. I did had impeccable hearing.

'Watcha' think Jack?' Crutchie asked. Caution was layered on his voice as he stood by the boy. Jack felt the stitching in his hat, chewing his lip. He contemplated me for a moment, then nodded. 'I don't think nothin', as long as he pays a nickel.'

I zoned out on his conversation as they began to talk about the weather. I moved my focus across to the other group. A boy who looked a bit like Sweets, held yesterday's paper. He read the article about me.

'How much do you think they'd pay for that girl?' He asked the group. A boy with curly black hair snickered.

'If I 'ad her, I wouldn't give 'er back.'
A few other boys laughed. The boy frowned.

'What if she got hurt?' He continued.

'Oh- Live'a little Davey.' The boy cackled. He stood up and began to snicker maliciously, the boy reached out and ripped the paper from Davey's hand.

'Hey! Give that back Clancy!' Davey yelled. Clancy ignored him as he held the picture up, he made kissy noises, swaying around with my picture, like he was doing the waltz.

I could feel the heat climbing onto my cheeks. While rolling onto my stomach, I lowered my head into the itchy pillow. I closed my eyes and tried to block all the boys laughter and howling.

Soon I was fast asleep.

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