Back to the Newsies

Brooklyn Fight and Spot

Now, when I say "go explorin'", I meant go to Brooklyn to see Spot Conlon. I mean, with eyes like his, a crooked smirk like his, a perfectly toned body like his....What's not to like?

Eventually, I found myself on the Brooklyn side of the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Hey! You'se!" a Brooklyn newsie shouted. I turned to him. "Ya ain't s'posed ta be he-ah!"

"Ay, I's can do whateva I want!" I shouted back to him. Quicksilver must've wandered off again, because he didn't seem scared. But wouldn't the bow and arrows intimidate him?

The boy scowled. "Oh really?"

"Yeah, really!" I shot back, storming up to him. Up close, he was at least 2 feet taller than me.

"An' what gives ya da right ta be on dis side?" he asked menacingly. "You'se a 'Hattan newsie."

"I's a 'Hattan newsie, so what? I's can use dis bow just as well as ya can soak somebody!" I growled, glaring at him.

"Feisty, eh?" he said, smirking. "Well, you'se on Brooklyn turf when you'se ain't s'posed ta. We can't have dat."

He cupped his hands around his mouth and let out a shrill bird whistle. Instantly, the heads of Brooklyn newsies popped up all over the place. On rooftops, behind crates, in windows and doorways, everywhere. On the second floor of-what I assumed to be-the Brooklyn Lodging House, I saw a figure stand by the window, staring out, watching the standoff. Then, as soon as I saw it, it disappeared into the shadows of the room.

"Boys, dis newsie needs ta be escorted outta Brooklyn. Why don't we help 'im?" he said, cracking his knuckles.

I smirked. My newsie cap must've been on tight because they thought I was a boy. I mean, that was the whole point of my disguise. If a newsie couldn't identify that I was a girl, then a Bull or someone else couldn't identify that I was a girl.

I put my fingers to my mouth and whistled, summoning Quicksilver. The Brooklynites around me covered their ears, wincing in pain. My pet wolf came running in, and the newsies had a wide range of reactions, ranging from shrieking in fear and running somewhere, to looking around confusedly, to standing there, trying not to look scared.

"The fight wasn't even before." I simply stated.

We stood there for a split second before the newsie shouted, "SOAK 'IM!"

I quickly notched two arrows and let them fly, each one hitting its mark. Two Brooklynites fell to the ground, screaming in pain and clutching their legs. But that only stopped the other Brooklyn newsies for a few seconds. They overcame their shock and charged at me.

I laughed as I let my arrows fly, knocking down just as many newsies as Quicksilver. But as the fight went on, my arrow supply decreased (duh, obviously) and my carefree expression turned into a scowl. I was forced to scrounge for unbroken arrows, often having to pull them out of an injured Brooklyn newsie and wincing in imaginary pain at hearing them scream out in anguish.

"Sorry!" I would mutter at them.

Even Quicksilver, who was an excellent fighter and could manage on her own, was on the losing end of her battles. The boys may have been shocked or scared of her, or may have backed away at first sight of her, but they were quickly growing bolder and overcoming their fear. The fact that they had clubs and slingshots and sticks and knives and-sorry, getting carried away-didn't help either.

Finally, one newsie punched her. She yelped in pain and faced the newsie, snarling and baring her teeth, her fur standing on end. Another newsie came in from behind and punched her in the side, catching her off guard. She fell and didn't get up.

"NO!" I screamed.

Those few seconds were enough for a Brooklynite to come up and sock me in the jaw. I crumpled to my knees, holding my jaw in pain. My distraught expression quickly changed back to a scowl.

"Oh. No. You'se. Didn't" I spat out, struggling to stand. But once I stood, though, all my weariness disappeared, and I was filled with renewed strength fueled by my rage.

I tried to get to Quicksilver's motionless body, but those Brooklyn newsies blocked my way so that I couldn't get to her.

"Are ya Brooklynites as stupid as ya are tough?" I snapped at them. "She's me pet, ya idiots!"

I made to punch one, but he caught my fist and held it, my arm trembling from trying to get out of his grasp. I raised my other fist and tried to punch him again, but another newsie caught my other fist. The first newsie punched me in the ribs. I gasped in pain, and saw white spots winking in my vision. He punched me again in the stomach, and I doubled over in pain, tears filling my eyes. He was about to punch me again, but then a voice was heard. The voice that I jumped through the T.V. to 1899 for.

"Hey, hey, hey. Break it up! Break it up!" Spot Conlon's voice rang out. The boys holding me immediately dropped me and I crumpled to the ground in a sweaty, bruised, and partially bloody heap.

"Hey, hey. What happened, Mac?" he asked.

The newsie that punched me swallowed nervously. "Well, dis 'Hattan newsie was wanderin' on our side of da Brooklyn Bridge. So we soaked 'im. Newsies ain't s'posed ta cross odda boroughs' borders."

Spot sighed. "Mac, how many times do I's gotta tell ya? Ya see a foreign newsie an' ya KINDLY escort dem out. Not beat da daylights outta dem. Only if dey don't cooperate ya can beat dem up." he said, exasperated.

"Sorry, Boss." Mac replied.

"Good. Now get back ta woik! We still got a few hours til da day is ova." Spot ordered, and his newsies dispersed. He looked down at me, then held his arm out for me to pull myself up. I grabbed his wrist and hoisted myself up, then dashed over to Quicksilver. She was breathing, but she was foaming at the mouth and she had a weak heartbeat.

"No, Quicksilver. Don't die on me." I sobbed. She weakly whimpered to let me know she was still there. I turned to Spot, who was standing awkwardly behind me.

"Can I's get some wata?" I asked him. He nodded and dashed inside the Lodging House. He came out a few seconds later with a full cup of water. I slowly poured the water into Quicksilver's mouth, and felt her heart beat a bit stronger.

"Hey, once you'se done, I's can treat ya in me room." Spot told me.

I nodded. "Can you'se help me carry Quicksilver up?"

Spot's eyes widened for a split second, but he nodded. "Sure."