Rebuilt

Chapter 22

    "That's not possible," I rasp.  It couldn't be. My stomach felt empty despite the food Oscar had fed me.  I felt like I had been soaked by Spot, Snyder, and Morris combined. 
    "That looks like you'se, Blades," Oscar murmured. 
    I stumble up to Oscar, dragging my feet looking at his pape compared to mine as if it would make a difference.  I lower the pape from his hands and look at him in the eyes.  "That's not me, I am not a killa.  Who'se would have taken a photo of me?"
    The boys at the circulation gate had all gathered around me, there eyes all empty and confused. They all looked at one another as if someone knew the answer.  Elmer was looking dead at me, Jack at Crutchie, JoJo at Albert, Race at Specs, Morris at Oscar.  The square for the first time in months was dead silent. 
    Jack pushed his way through the crowd and made his way to me.  "When did you'se look like this, kid.  You look like you'se just got soaked, when?"
    I thought about it, I looked at the cover of the pape, ripped shirt, bloody stomach, hair utterly disgusting. 
    When did that happen...when, I think to myself.  I know! When Morris had beaten and tied me up in that ally he had torn my shirt and made my stomach bleed...I analyze the photo again, blurry from the quality, but I still can see the ropes tied around my torn up shoes.
    "It's was from when Morris gave me a beatin' the other day in that ally," I mutter.
    Oscar turns around to his brother, " are you'se insane!  What were ya thinking takin' a picture like that? Who did you pay to write that headline?"
Morris holds his hands up innocently, "wasn't me, I would waste my time on stupid things like that."
Oscar seethes, "bullshit!"  An angry but calculated hand works its way through the mess of black curls.  "I know you, you'se a sick bastard.  You would do anything to fuck up something good, especially if it's something good for me."
"It wasn't me, maybe you should read the damned article,"  Morris rolled his eyes and stepped behind the counter, leafing through the other articles carefree.
"What article?"
It was Elmer.  The rest of the Newsboys in town.  Elmer looked exhausted like he hadn't slept in a wink.  His face was covered in dust and black charcoal.  None of the others looked like they were well rested either.  Race didn't have a cigar, Specs' glasses were cracked in one corner, and Jack was limping heavily.
Elmer took another step forward, the others stayed put.  He walked up to Oscar.  He said it again, slow and firm.  "What article?"
Oscar handed him the paper, "this one."
"Teenage murderess loose after..." one word after the other he spoke softer and softer.  He looked to me.  "Blades, is that you?" He held the paper up to my face.
I shoved it aside, "I ain't no killer."  I palmed my pockets for the change from the previous day, I started counting.  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eigh-
"Blades!"
I jumped loosing my train of thought and dropping all of my coins sending them rolling.  I looked up, Elmer was still standing there, his hand had fallen slack by his side, the paper crumpled up in his palm.  "Why you'se yellin?  I said it already, I ain't no killa."
"Blades that's you! Look at the photo, that's you.  Those are your clothes.  The same clothes you'se wearing right now.  And those are my shoes. The shoes I gave you."  He looked the photo up and down, up and down, up and down.
Morris slid his way to Elmer's side, sliding the paper out of his hand, placing it in my own.  "Maybe you should read the pape, sweets."
Elmer nodded, "yeah, I can't believe I'm sidin with Morris, but read the pape Blades."
I shook my head crumpling the paper.  Elmer uncrumpled it.  "Read it."
"No"
"Read the damn paper Blades," Elmer raised his voice a second time.
"Don't yell at me."
"Read the fucking pape,"but it wasn't Elmer, it was Morris, grinning from ear to ear.  He knew, he knew I wouldn't, he knew I couldn't read the paper.  He was trying to see if I would cough up my secret.
"No," I spat it out one final time. 
"Why. Not!"
"Because I can't," it was the loudest I could speak healthily. Oscar was slowly staring to pick up on what Morris was making Elmer feed into, he started to approach the two boys, and me cowering in the middle.
"What was that? Read the pape and tell my why you'se is the headline."
I had never seen Elmer like this, I didn't get why he was so upset.  I didn't think a bone in his body was capable of being mean, especially not to me.  It made me so sad, and not only did it make me sad it made me feel guilty because it was me that was making him feel this way.  I was the one who was causing his brown eyes to look black and his fist white with angst.
"BECAUSE I CAN'T." I exhaled sharply and coughed twice, then spat at the ground, grinding it into the pavement with a scuffed heel.
Morris drawled, "and why is that?"
Oscar had never felt so far away, he still seemed to be walking towards the situation.
"I can't read." I huffed.  "There I said it, you happy? Are you happy you sick bastard?"
Morris licked his lips, looking for a flight.  "Very."
Elmer didn't take his eyes off me, Oscar came up to my side with a fresh pape.  That's why he took so long, he went to the stand to grab a clean paper because he knew even if I tried to read the paper I had in my hand I couldn't.
"Here Blades," Oscar sat me down on a concrete wall surrounding the lower sitting area.  "I'll help you read the paper."

HOPE U HAVE YOUR NOTIFICATIONS TURNED ON BABEEY IM POSITNG CHAPTERS AGAIN... RESPOND IT MOTIVATES ME.