Spot Conlon: A New Adventure [2]

Chapter 3

When Ise was done sellin' me papes, Ise head ova to Sheepshead so Ise can watch da races. Ise don't bet no more, but when Race does, he asks me opinion and usually wins, so he gives me half da money an' Ise use it ta buy food for da bois. When Ise get there, Ise tell Race ta bet on da white one and sit in da back as Ise always do. Da white one wins. 

"Youse should consida bettin' again, sis. Youse wouldn't have only half da money." Race told me as wese walk home.

"No thanks, brodda. Youse got youse quirks, Ise got mine." Ise say. 

"What's yours?" He asks me, nudgin' me arm. 

"Ise a fighta. Ise a goil newsie. Ise have bois as friends. Ise went through several orphanages. Ise escaped them all. Take youse pick." Ise shrugged and laughed while Race smirked at me. He poked his cigar into his mouth and wrapped his arm around me shoulder. 

When wese got to da lodge, da bois are playing cards. Boots complains that he ain't got enough money ta buy new boots, and Crutchie is sittin' on his bed, as usual. Ise walk ova to him and sit down. 

"Heya, Crutchie. How was youse day?" Ise ask.

"Good day today. My limp helps me sell papes." Crutchie says, lookin' down at his leg. 

"Look, Ise got a few three dollas saved up from da past few months. Ise'll give it ta ya so youse can pay foi a doctor." Ise say, risin'. 

"No, Jazzer." Crutchie says, and foi da foist time, he looks stern. "Ise ain't takin' youse money. Youse need it." 

"Not as much as youse. Ise don't need no doctor." Ise say. Ise instantly regret sayin' it. Ise do need a doctor. Sometimes, if Ise get too hot, my breathin' get outta control. Only Crutchie knows dat, but, because me odda bois don't, Ise forget. 

"Don't youse say dat." He whispers. "Youse know dat youse need one. Dat breathin' problem could kill ya one day: me leg can't."  

Ise sigh. Ise know he's right. Then Ise remember dat Ise has food in me bag. Ise pull it out and break me bread. "Here. Eat dis." Ise get up and walk up ta da odda bois.

"Ya bettin' skills bought us food again." Mush jokes as Ise give him a piece o' bread. Ise punch his arm playfully and take da last piece, which is the smallest. Race takes a bit from his piece and gives it to me so dat wese have da same size piece. Bein' a newise is hard, but dat don't mean dat it ain't fun. It is. Ise has friends, family. What more could Ise ask foi?

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The next day, Ise walk wit Jack to da lodge. Wese like competin' sometimes 'fore work, and Ise won today, as usual. 

When wese got to da station, everyone looks angry. 

"They jacked up da price!" Kid says angrily. "Can ya believe dat? Sixty sense a hundred!" 

"So why da jack up, Weasel?" Ise ask, slamming me hands in dat table.

"Why not? It's a nice day." He says, lickin' his finga and stickin' it in da air. "Why not ask Mister Pulitzer." 

"Ise don't undastand." Mush grumbles. "All da money Pulitzer's makin', why would they gouge us?" 

"They can do what ever dey want, it's their stinkin' paper." Race mumbles. 

Jack sits down on da stairs. Ise lean on da wall, me arms crossed. Ise ain't happy 'bout dis. Not at all. Ise making da most money outta da newsies, but dat don' mean Ise rich. Ise still need money.

"What're we gonna do, Jack?" Boots asks. 

"Give him, room, give him room, let him think." Les says, shovin' people outta da way so dat Jack can think 'bout da situation. Blink hands him a cigar and he puts it in his mouth.