Our Side of the Strike

Cigars and Top Hats

On da way home, I walk wit Race, leanin against him for support when I needed ta, and I see Albert cast Race a smirk,

Dats odd, Albert neva shows any emotion remotely close ta happiness.

I just shrug it off and strike up a conversation wit Race. "Youse sure youse can be king of New York?"

"Why can't I? I'm betta dan Pulitzer or Hearst." He grins.

"Well it's just dat I don't know if you'd set da city on fire from your cigar- wait, ya neva light dat thing, ya just chew it like a wuss." I turn ta him, "why is dat?"

"Why da youse always wear dat top hat?" He asks back.

"I asked foist blockhead." I smirk at him. He smiles and says,

"It's good ta have ya back nitwit." Than we fall back in the barrage of newsies. "Well, youse know dis, but ya ain't the only person wit a rough background. I grew up in an orphanage. All we did was gamble and make bets on da races we couldn't see ourselves. I had a little brudda," he paused ta exhale. "He didn't make it past 5. All dey did was give me cigar and a few sorries." He stops bitterly.

"Well don't just leave it at dat!" I exclaim. So he continues.

"Ya might be thinkin I scrammed afta dat. Well no I didn't, I tried ta survive there. It was a cruddy place, but bedda dan any alternative I knew of. We both know Bullets, I know her from her time at da orphanage, we escaped but, she got shot in da arm in da process. But I still dragged her wit me. Da Midtown lodgin house was da closest, dey let her stay, but not me cause dey was 'full booked'. So dey points me ta Manhattan." He finishes, and I wrap my arm around him,

"What was your brudda's name?" I murmur.

"Anthony." He replies softly.

"Anthony?" I question, very confused. "Ain't youse Anthony?" I see his eyes widen, and he turns ta me.

"Ya can't tell no one alright?" I nod my head second naturally. He looks around and lowas his voice. "My name ain't Anthony, it's Edward Elmer Higgins." My questions start shootin through my head, only one can make way through my mouth.

"Why? Why would youse neva tell me?"

"Youse didn't tell me your name! When we met we agreed no names, no "where ya from"'s." He recalls defensively

"I don't tell no one my name!"

"Youse think I go paradin around tellin people my name? If I had told people my name, I would've been sucked right back in there." He explains. Wes walk in silence for a bit before I break it.

"Youse is Edward Elmer Higgins?"

"Yes." He answers tiredly.

"Your brudda was named Anthony?" I ask cautiously.

"Yes." He sighs sadly, seems ta be reminiscin about the kid.

"I bet he wouldn't have been a half bad kid; afta all he don't have a half bad big brudda." I say uncertainty. I don't know how ta be nice or undastandin, this is the closest I can come ta it. All I can hope is dat he takes dis as my condolences. He looks at me gratefully, like he knows what ise is tryin ta say, then brushes it aside and asks me,

"So what about dat top hat?"

"I always wanted a top hat, so I could be-" I stop myself before I reveal I not only could read, but looked up ta a fictional character. "like all the rich folks at da races who always win. My mudda told me not ya get one, sayin dey weren't for "ladies if your caliber" and promisin she would get me da type "ladies of my caliber" are supposed ta where. It was one of those huge ugly hats dat could fit a whole person inta it, so of course she couldn't put one of those on my dead body. So, I had had a real good day at da races, and bought one. I came home wearing it triumphantly, and she cried and screamed, 'wear the blasted thing! Wear it like that character!-"

"Character?"

Shit

"Da women was unda da very untrue impression I was tryin ta impersonate a fictional character. What a loosa." I shrug. He seems ya buy it, so I proceed. "'Wear it as a reminder that all urchins die alone and unloved on the streets!' So dats just what I did." I finish, a little bitterly. He returns the fava and wraps his arm around me and thinks on what I said.

"'All street urchins die alone and unloved' huh?"Then he looks back at me, "I don't know about dat." We walk the rest of da way home in a comfortable silence, just glad for each odda, and hopin dat things will neva change between us.

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When we had returned home, I found a letta on the bedside table next ta mine and Race's bunk. Ta keep the whole 'I'm illiterate' act up, I asked Davey ta read it ta me. He looks at me like Ise is stupid, which gets me real angry cause ise ain't stupid, but he does it none da less,

"Dear Spades and Racer,

You got Brooklyn and Midtown.

- Bullets

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I'm really sorry this chapter was really short and kinda bad filler, but I have a lot of summer school work to catch up on and I wanted to set some things up. I thought this would be a good way to show why these things are so important to these characters while also giving there relationship some development. I'm also really sorry this chapter was so late but again, work. Thanks for getting through this mess, I promise I'll try to improve it in the next few chapters. Ilysm guys ❤️❤️❤️!