"Well, well, well." Came a familiar voice. I took a deep breath, and turned to face the newsie who it belonged to.
"Spot Conlon."
"Quick Kelly. Quick outta trouble, Quick outta buildings, Quick outta Brooklyn, huh?" He asked, crossing his arms. Of course we were doing this now, in the middle of a strike. Here, in front of Jack.
"Quick outta Brooklyn? What's that supposed to mean?" Jack scoffed, a playful grin resting on his face. I could tell he was trying not to look confused.
"I guess ya sista' just didn't feel like stickin' around afta'." Spot shrugged, his eyes never leaving my face.
"Y/N, what's he ramblin' about?" Jack asked, looking more and more flustered with each second.
"It don't matter, Jack, now let's go. Are we talkin' to Pulitzer or what?" I urged, trying to shove my brother towards the door. He didn't budge.
"Why'd ya do it, Y/N? Cause'a Brooklyn? Cause'a the boys? Or was it cause'a me?" Spot asked. I looked into his eyes, silently begging for him to stop, and also thanking God that Race had already left with the others.
"Quick, what's goin' on?" Les asked, pulling on my sleeve.
"Nothing, Les. C'mon, let's give them a minute." Davey instructed, pulling the younger boy back. I looked into his eyes and saw that he was hurt, so I made a mental note to thank him later.
"Y/N, when the hell did you go to Brooklyn alone?" Jack demanded, and I didn't answer.
"Jack, c'mon. We gotta talk to Pulitzer before it's too late!" I begged, and he looked me in the eyes before turning to Spot.
"This ain't over." He warned us, and we raced into Pulitzer's office, taking everyone by surprise. "How we doin' this morning, gents?" He teased, waving a copy of our pape.
"You're behind this? We had a deal." Pulitzer growled, and Jack threw the money back on his desk.
"Guess it came wit' a warranty." I shrugged, and the older man's face darkened.
"I demand to know who broke my ban on printing about the strike!" He declared, and Jack sat down in Pulitzer's recliner.
"We're ya loyal employees!"
"We'd neva' take our business elsewhere." Spot finished smugly, and everyone else's eyes widened at the realization.
"The old printing press in the cellar." Pulitzer spoke quietly. "I made you the offer of a lifetime. Anyone who does not act in his own self-interest is a fool."
"What's that make you?" Davey scoffed. "This all began because you wanted to sell more papers. But now your circulation is down seventy percent. Why didn't you just come talk to us?"
"Guys like Joe don't talk with nothin's like us. But a very wise reporter said a real boss don't need the answers. Just the smarts to snatch the right one when he hears it." I shrugged. We heard voices singing down in newsies square, and Pulitzer approached the window.
"Have a look out there, Mr. Pulitzer. In case you ain't figured it out, we got you surrounded." Spot told him.
"New York is closed for business. Paralyzed. You can't get a paper or a shoe shine. You can't send a message or ride an elevator or cross the Brooklyn Bridge. You can't even leave your own building. So, what's your next move?" I asked, and he turned about three different shades of red turning to look back at me.
"Good morning, Mr. Pulitzer. I think you know the Governor." Came a deep, bellowing voice, and I turned to see the mayor standing with Medda, Katherine, and our special guest.
"Joseph, Joseph, Joseph. What have you done now?" Sighed Governor Roosevelt, shaking his head. "Thanks to Miss Medda Larkin bringing your daughter to my office, I already have a thorough grasp of the situation- graphic illustrations included. Bully is the expression I usually employ to show approval. But in your case I simply mean bully!" He turned to Katherine and gestured towards me and Jack. "Are these the two you told me about?" Katherine nodded.
"Nice to meet you, sir. Uh, Your Honor, Mr. Governor, sir." I stuttered as the taller man laughed. Governor Roosevelt offered his hand to me politely, and I shook it in awe.
"The pleasure's all mine. And you," he turned to Jack, "I'm told I shared a ride with you once."
Shaking the Governor's hand, my brother responded proudly and formally, "Pleasure's mine, Mr. Governor."
Governor Roosevelt finally worked Pulitzer into a corner, when Jack was requested. Alone. "Keep your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ground, young man." Roosevelt told him. We all left the room and entered the square, leaving Jack and Pulitzer alone upstairs. Race met me in the front of the crowd, grabbing my hands.
"Hey, what's goin' on in there, Quick?" He asked me nervously. I shook my head.
"I dunno yet. Pulitzer asked to see Jack alone. Cigar?" I pleaded, and Race took it out of his mouth, passing it to me instantly. After a few more moments, the large doors opened. Jack stepped outside onto the platform, and the crowd silenced. Jack gestured for Race, Davey, Les, and I to join him, so we did.
"Newsies of New York City..."
YOU ARE READING
The Boy Who Loved Cigars
Fanfiction"Oh whatever. You could do betta than me, anyway." Race told me. It looked like he was only half joking. "Higgins, don't you dare say that. I can only think of one guy better than you. It's my brudda, and I have to think he's the best guy alive. I o...