Close Your Eyes, Come With Me

VII

The headaches and sensitivity went away within a few days. Jack still experienced some irritability and confusion, but for the most part he was functional.

It wasn't enough.

Jack pushed his way past some other newsies, barging to the front before a line could form. He slammed his coin down.

"One hundred," he demanded.

Jack ignored the laughter and comments, taking his papers and leaving. He didn't have time for it this morning. Or any morning. If it weren't for the damn cold, these few minutes at the begining of the day would be the only time the guys would see any of him. But he was forced inside at night lest he should freeze. The others had gotten the message loud and clear after a few days of Jack outright ignoring them every time they spoke.

All day, Jack kept in motion. He had to get rid of every last one of the damned things. He exhausted every corner, tracked folks down, crossed other kid's spots, used every trick from fabricated headlines to personal sob stories. Finally as the day wound down, Jack found himself with only three left.

"Dammit," he grumbled to himself. Where else could he go?

"By now ya gotta have made more than ya normally do," Crutchie said.

Jack whirled to face him. He'd been so wrapped up in his frustration and thinking he hadn't noticed the tell-tale step-thump of his friend's approach.

"I did. But if I quit now I'm wastin' more than a penny, so it don't matter," Jack replied, trying to sound as casual as he could for speaking to someone he'd been mutually ignoring for several days.

"Let me," Crutchie said. He held out his free hand. "You's already in my spot anyways."

Jack clutched his bag so tightly his knuckles hurt. "Don't see ya name no where."

"Dammit, Jack, just lemme give ya a hand for once in ya life," Crutchie stepped closer and made like he was going to take Jack's bag by force.

"You a thief now?" Jack snapped, yanking his bag to the side and stepping down. Normally he would have just threw some guy on the ground for trying, but this new aggression from Crutchie had shocked him.

Crutchie opened his mouth to speak, stopped to think, then opened it again. "Ya know what? Yeah. Yeah, I am. Gimme it."

He made another grab for Jack's bag, actually getting a hand on the strap. Jack shouted out and jerked away, taking another step back. He didn't know why he was stepping down. He was really pissing himself off.

"Just-- just leave me alone, you dumb crip!" Jack roared. He was ready to punch this kid's lights out.

"Ya don't care none about that! Ya never did! This ain't about that," Crutchie yelled back. "So tell the truth! Truth about why you's so damn scared ta have friends!"

"I ain't scared of nothin'!" Jack punctuated the sentence with a shove to Crutchie's chest.

Crutchie stumbled backwards, hopping a few times, but managed to stay upwards. Jack felt a bit of relief at the distance between them. They'd been close enough that Crutchie had been spitting on him while yelling.

"Yeah ya are, Jack! You's terrified even. What's so scary, huh? If I'm just a dumb crip? I ain't threatenin' ya none! What have ya got ta lose?!"

Jack balled his fists up. "I got lots ta lose! I ain't scared. I just don't need no one or nothin' holdin' me back!"

"From what?! From Santa Fe? I ain't stoppin' ya! From lookin' like some group of kids' boss? I'm no competition. So what is it?!"

"Ya ruined everything!" Jack yelled at the top of his lungs, probably stopping everyone within the mile in their tracks.

"How?! What did I ever do?"

"Nothin'! Ya done nothin'! I mean in here," Jack gestured to his head wildly. "Ruinin' everything in here."

Crutchie shook his head, volume decreasing slightly. "The hell are ya talkin' about?"

I don't care about nothin', Crutchie. Nothin' and no one, 'cept for three things: Miss Medda, goin' West, and gettin' kids off the streets," Jack explained, twisting his hands in his hair. "I got no room for likin' no one in there! I get up. I work ta survive and ta save for leavin'. I go paint. I direct fellas to the lodge if I find 'em. That's it. I care about makin' it through the day. Care about payin' back Miss Medda for all she done and payin' back God or whoever for lettin' me find work. That's all. I'm givin' what I'm takin' here. No more, no less. Soon as I can, I'll be gone!" Jack pointed at Crutchie. "Get that?! Gone! I can't leave nothin' behind!"

"You's scared because...
Ya like me?" Crutchie said, tilting his head.

Jack could have sobbed right then. "That's all ya got outta that?! Fine! Yeah, I'm scared! Scared like I never been of nothin' before. Ya asked what I've got ta lose. The answer's nothing at all. Or at least I didn't used to," Jack couldn't even look at Crutchie anymore. "But now? Now I do. 'Cause I got you."

"I didn't think it was possible," Crutchie said after a moment.

Jack's pulse was roaring in his ears. "What?"

"Somehow, Jack... you's dumber than ya look," Crutchie answered.

Cold anger solidified Jack's frenzy. "Thanks. See this is the other reason. Ya care about someone and trust 'em on accident and then ya bare ya soul and they just--"

Wood clattered against the ground as Crutchie hugged Jack with both arms. In a frantic, startled state, Jack hugged back out if instinct to hold Crutchie up. Then his brain made the connection. Alarms went off in his brain and everything told him to push Crutchie off and ask what his problem was. But he was frozen that way, just holding Crutchie stiffly. Jack wasn't even breathing.

"What kinda life is it if ya got nothin' ta lose? Ya got nothin' ta live for that way," Crutchie mumbled into Jack's shoulder.

"That's why I'm movin'. I got nothin' here," Jack spoke, not remembering deciding to do so.

"Is it so bad now thatcha do?" Crutchie asked, lifting his head a little.

Jack didn't answer at first. Since the day he ended up an orphan, he'd had a one-track mind. Survive, survive, survive. Day in and day out. Over and over. There had been many a time when he'd asked himself what for. He used to look down at the streets from every high place he could and wonder about the afterlife. Why was he even slaving away for no good reason when there was a chance he could be reunited with his parents? But that was when he was younger and stupid. He knew better now. He'd learned that the world was a lot bigger than New York. He'd learned that if he was focused enough, he might get a taste of it. He knew there was payoff somewhere out there. But with Crutchie still clinging to him, Jack thought maybe his purpose wasn't so black and white, maybe there were little tastes of that silver lining closer to him than he'd thought.

Decision made, Jack's tense muscles relaxed, and he really pulled Crutchie to him.

"No," Jack answered. "I s'pose it ain't."