Destructive - Newsies | Sprace

Four | Race

The day had come to an end and Race was in a pissy mood. Everyone could tell something was off with Racetrack, but nobody bothered to ask. Not that Race would tell them anyway.

The newsboys of Manhattan were currently outside, enjoying the unusually warm weather for the day. New York weather made no sense to anybody, especially the newsboys who spent each day outside, experiencing the weather first hand.

Race was playing cards against Skittery, Pie-Eater, and Snoddy. Race was one of the only newsies who had a deck of cards because none of the others cared about playing cards enough to spare a couple of extra cents here and there. Racetrack would not eat for a week if it helped him save up for a deck of cards. The deck he was currently using was old and caked with dirt, but the numbers and suites were visible so he didn't find it necessary to purchase another deck.

As they murmured about the game, the sound of sticks hitting one another rang every few seconds as a couple of the younger boys had 'sword fights' with sticks they found on the streets.

A couple of the other newsies bantered about the days work or how they barely made enough to buy tomorrow's paper.

"Heya, Jack!" Boots said, standing on one of the benches and waving to Jack, who was coming down the street. "When's Katherine gonna get back?"

"Few more days, Boots," Jack responded.

Katherine was currently taking a little vacation to work on a writing project she had been working on. She was in Virginia. She invited Jack along, but he refused because winter was such a hard time and he had to take care of the younger newsies.

"Did you hear? Crutchie's laid up, sick. Came back early today, coughin' and weezin'. The cold ain't doin' anyone good." Blink sighed.

"It's not like winter helps the headlines either," Davey responded. "I barely sold all my papes today."

"Well it ain't the headlines that are trashy, it's that everyone's takin' shelter indoors durin' the day 'cause no one wants to freeze ta death buyin' their daily pape." Blink complained.

"Woulda look at that," Skittery laughed, "What's a rich boy doin' out here in the slums?"

Race looked up from his hand of cards and noticed a boy sauntering down the street. It was none other than Spot Conlon's beloved brother.

"Dumb rich kid prolly got lost," Snoddy remarked, drawing a dirty card from the pile.

Racetrack sighed and slammed down his cards. The other boys in the group watched as he stood up and marched over to the teenage boy wearing a smug grin.

"What'd you want?" Race asked, crossing his arms.

"The name's William, by the way. I figured you should know since we'll be getting to know each other quite well." William stuck out a hand for Race to shake.

"Why would we be getting to know each other?" Race asked, ignoring the hand that he was supposed to shake.

"Because you know Patrick, don't you? I went back to find you after I left and it seems you had run off fairly quickly, even after you claimed not to know him." There was something about William's voice that Race didn't like, even though he couldn't place what it was. Whatever it happened to be, it gave Racetrack the chills.

"Yeah, maybe I do know your brudda." Race spat.

"Would you mind sharing where he is?" William asked, his voice going even softer.

Do I actually give up Spot's location? Yeah, sure, I'm pissed. But there's something about this guy I don't like. There's no way I'm gonna let him win. Plus... there's something almost comforting about the fact that Spot Conlon was the one watching over Brooklyn instead of some hard head like Switch.

"Yeah, I'll tell you where 'e is." Race adjusted his hat, "the sewers. Along with the other rats."

William glared at Race and for a moment the Manhattan newsie was afraid he was about to get beat up for insulting his brother like that, but instead a smile formed on his face.

"Well," Willaim sighed, "if you know where Patrick is, I'm sure the rest of your little friends know as well." He eyed over Race's shoulder at the newsboys hanging outside.

Race scoffed. "None of 'em would dare to rat out their own. Not that they'd talk to a goon like you in the first place."

William blew air out of his nose and just began to shake his head. "Seems you have something against my dear old Sean Patrick."

"So what if I do?" Race spat back.

"So you admit to knowing him?" William cocked his head a little.

"Let's say I do. What're you gonna do about it?" Race suddenly had the urge to punch this guy in the throat. He didn't know what he was getting into, messing around in newsboy territory.

"Well, I'm going to bring my brother home and no one can stop me." William began to laugh a little, "especially not a street rat such as yourself."

-840 Words-