Newsies PDF

My eyes fluttered open to the sound of someone moving around. I glanced over the rooftop, seeing that Jack was still asleep. My eyes then fell on Crutchie, who was putting his vest on. “Hey, where you going?” I groaned, rubbing my eyes, pushing myself up into a sitting position, “The morning bell ai...

My eyes fluttered open to the sound of someone moving around. I glanced over the rooftop, seeing that Jack was still asleep. My eyes then fell on Crutchie, who was putting his vest on. “Hey, where you going?” I groaned, rubbing my eyes, pushing myself up into a sitting position, “The morning bell ain’t rung yet. Go back to sleep,” “Both of you shut up and go back to sleep,” Jack groaned, rolling onto his side. Me talking and Crutchie getting ready to leave must have woken him up. “I wanna beat the other fellas to the street,” Crutchie told us, “I don’t want anyone should see. I uh…I ain’t been walking so good,” He sighed. “Oh, quit griping,” Jack huffed, abandoning going back to sleep and standing up. “Jack!” I hissed, hitting him. “What?” He asked, holding up his hands in defense, “You know how many fellas fake a limp for sympathy, right?” He said. He nodded to Crutchie, “That bum leg of yours is a gold mine,” Crutchie sat on the edge of the roof, his feet dangling right in front of the ladder. “If someone gets the idea I can’t make it on my own, they’ll lock me up in the Refuge for good,” He said. “Hey, can one of you be a pal and help me down?” He asked, shifting his weight to move down the ladder. Unfortunately, he shifted a bit too far and slipped, catching the side of the ladder, just hanging there. “Jesus!” I gasped, shooting to my feet. Jack and I instantly rushed over to him, each grabbing an arm and pulling him back onto the roof. “You wanna bust your other leg too?!” Jack huffed, more out of worry than anything though. “No, I wanna go down,” Crutchie said simply. I handed Crutchie his crutch and he steaded himself. “You’ll be down there soon enough!” Jack dismissed, “Take a moment! Drink in our…our penthouse in the sky! High above the stinkin’ streets of New York!” He said, sweeping his arm in a gesture across the rooftop, the rooftop that was essentially mine, Crutchie’s, and Jack’s home. “You’re crazy,” Crutchie laughed. “Oh, what, ‘cause I like a breath of fresh air? ‘Cause I like seeing the stars?” Jack asked. “Yeah, you’re seeing stars, alright,” Crutchie laughed as he nudged me, causing me to snicker. “Them streets down there…they sucked the life right out of my old man,” Jack said, looking over the edge of the rooftop at the city below, “Years of rotten jobs, stomped on by bosses…and when they finally broke him, they tossed him to the curb like yesterdays paper,” “Well, they ain’t doin’ that to me!” He yelled across the city. “But…but everyone wants to come here,” Crutchie said, almost confused. “Yeah, well, we don’t want to stay here,” I told him, “New York’s fine for those who got a big strong door to lock it out…we ain’t got that, do we?” I said, looking at the ladder. “It’s like we’ve always been trying to tell you, Crutchie. There’s a whole other world out there!” I stressed. “You keep your small life in a big city,” Jack told Crutchie, “But me and Rory? We want a big life…in a small town,” “Sure, folks are dyin’ to get here…but we’re dyin’ to get away. Away to a little town out west that’s spankin’ new,” I told him, smiling softly at the thought. “I mean, we ain’t never been there but I can see it clear as day…” Jack said. I nudged Crutchie, “If you want, I bet you could see it too,” I told him, causing him to smile softly. “Close your eyes,” I said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He smiled, shaking his head, but closing his eyes. “Come with me, somewhere green and pretty,” I said, urging him to imagine it. “And the minute that you get there, folks will walk right up and say, ‘Welcome home, son. Welcome home to Santa Fe’,” Jack told him. “Planting crops, splitting rails, sharing tales around the fire…Oh, ‘cept for Sunday when you lie around all day,” He continued, smiling. “Ain’t that neat? Living sweet in Santa Fe?” I said, nudging Crutchie. He finally opened his eyes, a smile spread across his face. “You guys got folks there?” He asked us. I scoffed, “I ain’t got folks nowhere,” “I ain’t got ‘em either,” Jack said, shrugging. “Well, I don’t need folks,” Crutchie told us. He stood between Jack and I, wrapping his arms around our shoulders, “I got friends,” “Hey! How ‘bout you come with us?!” Jack asked excitedly, “No one cares about no bum leg in Santa Fe, you just hop a palomino! Ridin’ in style!” He said, mimicking as if he was riding, causing Crutchie and I to laugh. “Oh, yeah. Feature me, ridin’ in style,” Crutchie said, chuckling. “Hey, I bet a few months of clean air and you could toss that crutch for good!” Jack exclaimed. “You can bet we won’t let them bastards beat us!” I told them, smiling. “Watch me stand…watch me run,” Crutchie muttered, wishing for that more than anything. His expression dropped. He sighed, looking down at his leg. “Just hold on, kid…” Jack told him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Just till that train makes Santa Fe,” I told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Suddenly, the bell tolled. I closed my eyes, letting out a breath. “Well, dreaming’s done,” Jack sighed, “Yeah?” “Yeah,” Crutchie said, wiping his eyes. “Hey, Specs, Racer, Henry, Albert, Elmer” I yelled down the ladder, “Get a move on!” “Them papes don’t sell themselves!” Jack added. I grabbed my button down shirt, slipping it over the tank top I already had on, leaving the buttons undone. I then quickly put my hair into braids, then climbed down the ladder. Race was at the bottom, a cigar in his mouth as usual, buttoning his vest. “Hey, Albert, Elmer, Specs! You heard Jack and Rory, get a move on!” He yelled. Albert was next to come over, rubbing his eyes, “I was having the most beautiful dream. My lips is still tingling,” “A pretty girl?” Race asked, nudging him. “A leg of lamb,” Albert replied, winking at me. “Get out of here!” I chuckled, shoving him away. Albert, unphased, took Race’s cigar out of his hand. “Hey! That’s my cigar!” Race yelled. “You’ll steal another,” Albert dismissed. “Look, papes ain’t movin’ like they used to. I need a new selling spot,” “Try Bottle Alley or the harbor, there’s easy pickings guaranteed,” Race told him. “It’s a crooked game we’re playing,” Jack shrugged, climbing down the ladder, jumping off the last few rungs then helping Crutchie down. As we moved toward Newsies Square, the other boys started to join us. Romeo jumped in front of the group, stopping a girl who was being escorted down the street by a man. “Well, hello, beautiful,” Romeo smiled. Jack stepped in, pushing Romeo aside, “Step back, Romeo. Nothin’ what concerns you here,” He said, smirking. He turned to the girl, “Morning, Miss. Can I interest you in the later news?” “The paper isn’t out yet,” The girl said. “Well, I’d be delighted to deliver it to you personally,” Jack told her, smiling. I rolled my eyes, feeling a pang of something in my chest that I couldn’t quite place. “I’ve got a headline for you: Cheeky Boy Get’s Nothing For His Troubles!” The girl said as she and the man who was escorting her walked past us. I couldn’t help but be grateful that she wasn’t concerned with Jack’s flirting. Something about the thought of her flirting back I didn’t like. “Back to the bench, slugger. You struck out!” Romeo laughed, shoving Jack forward. “I’m crushed!” Jack said, feigning heartbreak. “Hey, Crutchie, what’s your leg say? Gonna rain?” Finch asked. Crutchie shook his leg, chuckling. “No rain…” He said thinking, “Partly cloudy. Clear by evening!” We did this bit as a joke quite often, but a lot of the time Crutchie ended up being right, which made it a lot funnier. “They oughta bottle this guy!” Finch laughed, clapping Crutchie on the back. “And the limp sells fifty papes a week all by itself!” Race said. “I don’t need the limp to sell papes, I got personality!” Crutchie exclaimed. Eventually, me and the guys made it to the locked gate in front of The World. “Hey, look, they’re putting up the headline!” Finch said, pointing to the man who began writing on the chalkboard. “I hope it’s real bloody with a nice clear picture!” Specs said. Sure, it was a little gruesome, but the only way we’d make money was if we had a good headline. The man finally finished, stepping back, and we could finally see what it said. We all groaned as the headline on the chalkboard read “Trolley Strike Enters Third Week”. I leaned against the gate, letting out a frustrated sigh. “The Trolley Strike?” Elmer said. “Not again,” I huffed. “Man, three weeks of the same story!” Race huffed. “They’re killing us with that snoozer!” Finch said. “Hey, make way! Step aside!” Morris yelled, approaching the gate with Oscar. Oscar held the keys in his hand. “Oh, dear me, what is that unpleasant aroma?” Race chuckled, “I fear the sewers may have backed up during the night,” “Or could it be…” Crutchie said. “The Delancey brothers!” I finished, smirking at Oscar who had an annoyed expression as he opened the gate. “Hey, Oscar,” I said, strolling through the gate, “Word on the street says you and your brother took money to beat up striking trolley workers,” “So? It’s honest work,” Oscar shot back. “By crackin’ the heads of defenseless workers?” I questioned, stepping forward. “I take care of the guy who takes care of me,” Oscar said, stepping up to me. “Hey, ain’t your father one of the strikers?” I asked. “Guess he didn’t take care of me!” Oscar said, shoving me. Race instantly surged forward, getting in between Oscar and I. “Oh, you really wanna go there?!” Race threatened, stepping up to Oscar. Race was like a brother to me, so naturally he wanted to protect me. “I think I just did,” Oscar replied, shoving Race as well. “You want some of that too?” Morris said, approaching Crutchie, “Ya lousy crip!” Morris then yanked Crutchie’s crutch from under his arm and shoved him to the ground. “Hey, hey, hey!” Jack yelled, approaching Morris. I too approached Morris. “You ain’t funny, Morris!” I yelled, snatching Crutchie’s crutch from his hand. “Five to one Rory skunks ‘em!” Race said. Jack stepped up to Morris, “One unfortunate day, you might find you got a bum gam of your own,” He said, “How would you like us pickin’ on you, huh?” “Hey, maybe we should find out?” I shrugged, I swung the crutch at Morris and Oscars legs, sending them sprawling to the ground. The Newsies’s cheered and laughed. “Wait till I get my hands on you!” Oscar yelled, beginning to push himself off the ground. His ego was clearly bruised by getting taken down so easily by a girl. I quickly shoved him back down with my foot. “You gotta catch me first!” I yelled, tossing Crutchie his crutch before sprinting away. “Go Rory!” I heard Crutchie yell from behind me, causing me to chuckle. *a little later that morning* “Papes for the Newsies! Line up!” Weasel yelled. We all lined up. I, as per usual, was the only girl. Every once in a while there’d be another girl, but it was rare. “Morning, Weasel! You miss me?” Jack, who was at the front of the line, asked. I was right behind him. “The names Wiesel!” Weasel huffed. “Ain’t that what I said?” Jack chuckled. He slammed two quarters down, “I’ll take the usual,” “Hundred papes for the wise guy,” Weasel told Oscar. Jack took the papers from Oscar. “The usual,” I said, also putting down two quarters. “Hundred papes for the girl,” Weasel told Oscar. “You know my name, Weasel. How about you try using it for once?” I said. “Wiesel,” He corrected. “Hey, you use my name, I’ll use yours,” I shrugged. I turned to Race who was behind me, lowering my voice, “No I won’t,” I chuckled, causing him to laugh. “Move along!” Weasel huffed. I scoffed, chuckling, but did. “You still selling, princess?” Oscar asked, holding out my papers but not giving them to me, “Surprised you can handle it,” “And I’m surprised *you* can handle a single thought,” I instantly shot back. I snatched the papers from Oscar’s hand. The newsies laughed, Jack high-fived me. “How’s it goin’, Weasel?” Race asked. Weasel huffed, “At least call me Mister,” “Well, I’ll call you sweetheart if you spot me fifty papes,” Race smirked. “Drop the cash and move it along!” Weasel yelled. “Oh, well, whatever happened to romance,” Race scoffed, chuckling, as he slammed down a quarter. “Fifty for the racer,” Weasel huffed. Oscar shoved the papers into Race’s hands. “Good morning, Mr. Wiesel,” Crutchie said, setting down a quarter. “Fifty papes for Crutchie,” Weasel said. Oscar handed them to Crutchie. “Have a look at this,” Weasel snickered as a kid I’d never seen before was next in line, “A new kid!” “I’m new too!” A younger boy said, jumping out from behind the older boy. “Hey, don’t worry, kid. It rubs right off!” Race called to the young boy. “I’ll take twenty newspapers, please,” The older boy said. “Twenty for the new kid,” Weasel told Oscar. The older boy just stood there. “And let’s see the dime,” Weasel told him. “I’ll pay when I sell them,” The older boy said, causing all of the other Newsies to scoff or laugh. “Funny, kid,” Weasel said, “Come on, cash up front,” “But whatever I don’t sell you’ll buy back, right?” The older boy asked. I turned to Jack, chuckling, “This kid really is new,” “Certainly! Oh, and every time you lose a tooth I put a penny under your pillow,” Weasel said sarcastically, “Come on, drop the cash or move along!” The older boy put down a dime and moved on. “Albert, let me see your money,” Weasel said as Albert approached. “You have a very interesting face,” Albert told Weasel, “Ever think about getting into moving pictures?” “You really think I could?” Weasel asked. “Sure. Buy a ticket. They’ll let anyone in!” Albert said, causing all the Newsies to burst into laughter. “Uh, I’m sorry, excuse me,” The new kid called, cutting off everyone’s laughter, “I paid for twenty but you gave me nineteen,” “You seen how nice I was to this new kid?” Weasel huffed, approaching the new kid, “And what do I get for my civility?! Ungrounded accusations!” “I just want what I paid for,” The new kid said. Sending the tension, Jack and I immediately shot up from the curb where we were sitting and approached them. “He said beat it!” Oscar yelled. I snatched the papers out of the new kid’s hand and started counting them. The new kid looked confused. I finished counting the papers. “Woah, the new kid’s right, Weasel. You gave him nineteen,” I said, handing the papers back to the new kid. “Hey, I’m sure it’s an honest mistake on account of Oscar can’t count to twenty with his shoes on,” I said, unable to resist making a remark. Oscar lunged at me, causing me to jump backward, laughing. Weasel grabbed Oscar’s arm, stopping him. “Here!” Weasel huffed, slamming one more paper into the new kid’s chest, “Now beat it!” “Hey, give the new kid fifty more papes,” Jack said, slamming down a quarter. “I don’t want more papes,” The new kid said. I scoffed, chuckling, “What kind of newsie don’t want more papes?” “I’m no charity case,” The new kid said. He looked Jack, “I don’t even know you,” “His name’s Jack!” The younger boy informed. “That it is,” I confirmed Jack’s name, “And I’m Rory,” “Yeah, this here is the famous Jack Kelly and that there is Rory Carter,” Crutchie informed, crutching over, “Jack once escaped jail on the back of Teddy Roosevelt’s carriage. Rory helped him. Made all the papes!” “How old are you, kid?” Jack asked the younger boy. “I’m ten! Almost!” The boy answered. “Well, if anybody asks, you’re seven. Younger sells more papes,” Jack told the young boy, “And if we’re gonna be partners–” “Who said we wanna partner?” The older boy cut Jack off. “Selling with Jack and Rory is the chance of a lifetime!” Crutchie said, “You learn from them, you learn from the best,” “If they’re the best then what do they need with me?” The older boy asked. “‘Cause you got a younger brother and neither of us do,” I said, “With that puss, we could easy sell a thousand papes a week,” I turned to the younger boy, “Hey, look sad, kid,” I told him. The younger boy put on a very convincing sad expression. “Oh, we’re gonna make millions!” Jack chuckled. “This is my brother Davey. I’m Les!” The younger boy said. “Hey, nice to meet you, Davey,” Jack said, approaching Davey, “My two bits come off the top. You spilt everything else seventy-thirty with me and Rory, alright?” “Fifty-fifty! You wouldn’t try and pull a fast one on a little kid!” Les argued. I chuckled, “I like this kid,” Jack took a step forward, amused, “Sixty-forty and that is my final offer,” Les looked at Davey, who shrugged then hesitantly nodded. “Deal!” Les exclaimed. Jack spit in his hand and held it out. Les spit in his hand and shook Jack’s hand. “That’s disgusting,” Davey said. “Nah, that’s just business,” I said, ruffling Les’s hair. I stepped on top of a crate, “Newsies, hit the streets!” I yelled. Jack stepped up with me, “The sun is up, the headline stinks, and this kid ain’t getting any younger!” He said, gesturing to Les. *much later that afternoon* “Paper! Paper!” Davey yelled for anyone passing by. He gently approached a man, “Oh, evening pape, here,” He said. The man shook his head and held up a hand, walking away. I laughed, approaching Davey, “Sing ‘em to sleep, why don’t ya?” I said. I snatched the paper out of his hand, stepping into the middle of the sidewalk. “Extra! Extra!” I yelled, “‘Terrified flight from burning inferno’! You heard the story right here!” Immediately, a man approached me, gave me the money, and took the paper. “Thanks, Mister,” I said as he walked away. I smirked, holding up the coin for Davey to see. “You just made that up,” Davey said. “I did not. I said he heard it right here and he did,” I shrugged. “Well, my father taught us not to lie,” Davey said. “Yeah?” I chuckled, tossing him the coin, “Well, mind taught me not to starve,” “Hey! Just sold my last paper!” Les said, running up to Davey and I. Jack was strolling behind him. “This kid’s a natural,” Jack said. “I still got one left,” Davey said. I shrugged, “Sell it or pay for it” “Give it here!” Les exclaimed, snatching the paper out of Davey’s hands. Les approached a woman, putting on a sad expression. “Buy a pape from a poor orphan boy,” He whimpered, holding out the paper. He then added a cough at the end for extra effect. “Oh, you dear thing! Of course I’ll take a newspaper,” The woman said, digging in her purse, “Here’s a dime,” She said, handing it to Les. “Born to the breed,” I said, chuckling with amusement. “This is so much better than school!” Les exclaimed, looking at the coin. Jack laughed, nudging me, “This kid,” “Don’t even think it,” Davey warned, taking the coin out of Les’s hand, “When Pop goes back to work we go back to school,” “Hey, so, uh how about we divvy up the money? Then we’ll grab some chow and find you some place safe to spend the night. Yeah?” Jack said. “Uh, no, we gotta get home,” Davey said, dividing up the money, “Our folks’ll be waitin’ for dinner,” “You got folks, huh?” Jack said. “Doesn’t everyone?” Les asked, confused. “Hey,” Davey said gently, nudging Les. “Um…our dad tangled with a delivery truck on the job,” Davey said, changing the conversation, “He messed up his leg bad, so they laid him off. That’s how come we had to find work,” Davey handed the sixty percent of the money over to Jack, who then began counting it out to give me my half. “Yeah, sure, that makes sense…yeah,” Jack sighed. “Um, too bad about your dad,” I said as Jack and I began to walk away, “Look, why don’t you guys come home with us for dinner? Our folks will be happy to have you,” Davey offered. “Mom’s a great cook!” Les exclaimed. I exchanged a glance with Jack. “Uh, thanks for the invite…I just remembered that we’ve got plans with a fella,” I lied. Jack nodded, “Yeah, he’s probably waitin’ for us right now,” He said, trying to hide the break in his voice. It wouldn’t be noticeable to someone who didn’t know him well, but it was to me. “Is that the guy you’re meeting?” Les asked, pointing up the street. Jack furrowed his brows, “What?” He asked as we both looked. “KELLY! CARTER!” Snyder yelled upon seeing Jack and I. “Run for it!” Jack told Les and Davey. Jack and I led the way, sprinting through the streets as Les and Davey followed behind us. We cut through buildings, hopped fences, all in an attempt to lose Snyder. Eventually, Jack ran into the back door of the theater, slamming it shut once we were all in. “We lost him,” Jack panted. “Does someone wanna tell me why I’m running?!” Davey huffed, “I’ve got no one chasin’ me!” “Who was that guy?” He asked. “That there was Snyder the Spider. A real sweetie,” Jack informed, still trying to catch his breath, “He runs a jail for underage kids called the Refuge” “The more kids he brings in the more the city pays him. Problem is, all that money goes right into his own pocket,” I explained, “Just do yourself a favor. Stay clear from him and the Refuge,” “I hear you,” Davey sighed. “Hey! You up there! Shoo!” Medda called, only noticing Davey and Les, “No kids allowed in the theater!” “Not even us, Miss. Medda?” Jack asked, leaning over the railing. I waved, smiling. “Jack Kelly! Rory Carter!” Medda exclaimed, “Get yourselves down here and give me a hug!” Jack and I rushed down the stairs to meet Medda, Davey and Les followed. Jack hugged Medda first then I did. “Where you kids been keepin’ yourselves?” Medda asked. “Oh, never far from you Miss. Medda,” Jack said, smiling. I turned to Davey and Les, “Boys, may I introduce you to Miss. Medda Larkin, the greatest star in the Bowery today. She also owns the joint,” I said. “The only thing I own is the mortgage,” Medda laughed. She turned to Davey and Les, “It’s a pleasure, gents!” Davey gave a polite nod but Les was preoccupied looking at a showgirl. Davey nudged Les, “What is wrong with you?!” “Are you blind? She’s got no clothes on!” Les exclaimed. “That’s her costume!” Davey informed, pulling Les behind him. “But I can see her legs!” Les said. “Well, step out of his way so he can get a better look!” Medda told Davey, “Theater’s not only entertaining, it’s educational. Got the picture, kid?” The showgirl blew Les a kiss. Les turned to Medda and nodded. “Say, Miss. Medda, we got a little situation on the street. You mind if we hide out here for awhile?” I asked. “Oh, where better to escape trouble than a theater?” Medda said, “Is Snyder after you kids again?” “Hey Jack! Did you really escape jail on the back of Teddy Roosevelt’s carriage?” Les asked Jack. “Come on, what would the governor be doing at a juvenile jail?” Davey said to Les, clearly not believing the story. “It so happens he was running for office, and he wanted to show he cared about orphans and such,” I said. “While he got his mug in a pape, Rory created a distraction, I got my butt in the backseat, and off we rode,” Jack explained. “You two really know the governor?!” Les asked excitedly. “They don’t…but I do!” Medda chuckled. “Uh, say, kids, when you’ve got time I want you to paint me another one of these backdrops,” Medda said, gesturing to the backdrop Jack and I had painted, “This last one you did is a doozy! Folks love it!” “And things have been going so well that I can actually pay,” She added. “We couldn’t take your money Miss. Medda,” Jack told her. “You pictured that?!” Les exclaimed, looking at the backdrop. “Your friends are quite the artists!” Medda informed. “Okay, take it easy, it’s a bunch of trees,” I dismissed. “You guys are really good,” Davey complimented. “Those kids got natural aptitude!” Medda said. “Jeez! I never knew no one with an aptitude before!” Les said, causing me to chuckle. “Miss. Medda! You’re on!” A stage manager called, rushing over to her. Medda turned to us, “Kids, lock the door and stay all night. You’re with Medda now,” She smiled. *early the next morning* “Ah, man, those fire sirens kept me up awake all night,” Race groaned. He took a drag from his cigar, blowing the smoke from his lips. “Sirens is like lullabies to me,” Mush said, “The louder they wail, the better the headline, the better the headline, the better I eat, and the better I eat–” “The further away from you I sleep,” Race said, cutting him off. “Easy, Race. Easy,” I said, plucking the cigar out of his hands. I took a drag. “Rory! That ain’t funny!” Race huffed, reaching for his cigar, “Give it here!” I jumped backward, taking another drag from his cigar, laughing. “Morning, everybody!” Davey called, pulling Les behind him, “Sorry we’re late, we had to help our mom with something,” He explained. “Oh? They’ve got a mother?” Race chuckled, “I was gonna get me one,” “What’d you do with the one you had?” Romeo asked. “He traded her for a box of cigars,” I chuckled, holding up the cigar I had taken. “Hey, they was Coronas!” Race said, snatching the cigar out of my hand. “Are you gonna live now?” I chuckled as he took a drag. “We have a father too,” Les spoke up. “A mother AND a father?” Buttons chuckled. “Hey, ain’t we the hoi polloi?” Race said. “So, how’s it going today?” Les asked. “Ask me after they put up the headline,” Tommy Boy said. “Here it comes now!” Les said, pointing. We all looked. “New newsie price. Sixty cents per hundred?!” Albert read aloud. “What’d you say?!” Mush asked, rushing over. “Is that news?!” Davey asked. “It is to me!” Elmer said. “They jacked up the price of papes! Ten cents more a hundred!” Albert said. “I could eat two days on a dime!” Elmer huffed. “I’ll be sleeping on the streets!” Crutchie said. I furrowed my brows, “You already sleep on the streets,” He turned to me, “In a worse neighborhood,” “Alright, what are you all waiting around here for?!” Jack yelled as he approached, “Rory, come on, get ‘em moving!” “Might have a problem with that, Kelly,” I said, pointing to the headline. “Yeah, get a load of this,” Crutchie added. Jack looked at the headline. “Like Pulitzer don’t make enough already!” Romeo scoffed. “Papes for the newsies!” Weasel yelled. Jack scoffed, chucking, “Hey, relax. It’s gotta be a gag,” He approached Weasel, “Hey, good joke, Weasel! You really had the fellas going,” He slammed down two quarters, “I’ll take a hundred and be on my way,” “A hundred will cost you sixty,” Weasel informed. “We ain’t paying no sixty,” I said. “Then make way for someone who will,” Weasel shrugged. “You bet,” Jack shrugged, “Me, Rory, and the fellas will take a hike over to The Journal,” “Hey! I’ll save you the walk!” Specs said, running up, “They upped their price too,” “Then we’ll take our business to The Sun!” I said. “Same all around town!” Weasel called as we walked away, “New day. New price,” He shrugged, smirking. “Hey! Why the jack-up?!” I yelled, storming over to Weasel. “Watch yourself, girl,” Weasel warned as Oscar stepped up to me, “For them kind of answers, you gotta ask further up the food chain,” “So…you buying or moving on?” He asked. I clenched my jaw, slamming my fist down on the counter. Jack and I stormed away. “Come here, fellas!” Jack ordered, urging everyone to get close, “Get over here, come on!” “They can’t just do that, can they?!” Finch asked. “And why not? It’s their paper!” Race huffed. “It’s their world,” Elmer said. “Ain’t we got no rights?!” Henry asked. “We got the right to starve!” Crutchie said, “Let’s just get our papes and hit the streets while we still can,” He said. “At them prices?” Henry asked him. We got a choice?” Crutchie askedx “Hold on! Nobody’s paying no new nothing!” I said, interrupting everyone. “You got an idea?” Tommy Boy challenged. “Would you keep your shirt on?,” I huffed, “Let me and Jack think this through,” Everyone then started arguing, talking over each other, frustrated by the whole situation. I huffed, running my hands through my hair. “STOP CROWDING THEM!” Les suddenly screamed over everyone’s indecipherable arguing. He began to push everyone away from Jack and I. “Let Jack and Rory work it out!” He yelled. Everyone stepped away, listening to him as Jack and I thought. After no more than a few seconds, Les approached Jack and I. “Hey, guys, you still thinking?” He asked softly. “Sure they are. Can’t you smell smoke?” Race chuckled. I turned to Jack, “If we ain’t selling, nobody is,” He nodded in agreement. “Come here,” I said, urging the guys to get close again. “Here’s the deal…If we don’t sell papes, nobody sells papes,” I told them, “Nobody gets the that window till they put the price back where it belongs,” “What? You mean like a strike?” Davey asked. Jack shrugged, “Well, hey, you heard Davey, we’re on strike!” “Hold on! I didn’t say that!” Davey quickly clarified. “We shut down this place just like those workers shut down the trolleys!” I declared. “Then the cops’ll bust our heads!” Finch said, “Half of them strikers is laid up with broke bones,” “The cops ain’t gonna care about a bunch of kids!” Jack assured. He turned to Davey, “Right, Davey?” “Leave me out of this. I’m just here trying to feed my family,” Davey huffed, grabbing Les’s hand. “Oh, what?! And the rest of us is here on playtime?!” I challenged, stepping up to him. “Hey, just ‘cause we only make pennies don’t give them the right to rub our noses in it,” Jack told Davey. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t strike, you’re not a union,” Davey said. “What if I says we is?” Jack asked. “There’s a lot of stuff you gotta have to be a union. Like membership,” Davey said. “What do ya call these guys?” Jack asked, gesturing to the Newsies behind him and I, who all smiled and waved. “And officers,” Davey added. “I nominate Jack president!” Crutchie spoke up. “Aw, gee, I’m touched,” Jack said, turning to Davey with a smirk, “And of course I’ll have Rory as my vice,” He added, smiling at me. “How about a statement or purpose?” Davey asked. “Yeah, I must’ve left that in my other pants,” Jack retorted. Race raised his hand, “Um, what’s a statement of purpose?” “A reason for forming the union,” Davey said. “Well, what reason do the trolley workers have?” Jack asked. “I don’t know!” Davey shrugged, “Wages, work hours, safety on the job?” “Who don’t need that?” Jack asked, causing the other newsies to murmur in agreement. “Hey, I bet if your father had a union, you wouldn’t need to be out here selling papes right now, yeah?” I questioned. Davey sighed, “Yeah,” “So, our union is hereby formed to watch each other’s backs!” Jack declared, standing up on a crate. He reached down, grabbing my hand and pulling me up with him. “Union’d we stand!” Jack said. “Hey, that’s not bad. Somebody write that down,” He said. “I got a pencil!” Les said, smiling. “Well, meet our Secretary of State,” I said, gesturing to Les to which the newsies cheered. “If you want a strike, the membership’s gotta vote,” Davey said. “Okay, so, we’ll vote,” I shrugged, “What do you say, boys? The choice is yours. Do we roll over and let Pulitzer pick our pockets or do we strike?!” I asked. “Strike!” The newsies yelled. “Yeah!” Jack exclaimed, “You heard the voices of the membership,” He said to Davey, “The Newsies of Lower Manhattan are officially on strike!” I declared. “Yeah!” The Newsies exclaimed. “Uh, wouldn’t our strike be more effective if someone in charge knew about it?” Crutchie asked. “Well, it would be a pleasure to tell Weasel myself,” Race smirked, standing up. “And who tells Pulitzer?” Elmer asked. “Davey?” Jack said, smirking. “I don’t know!” Davey sighed. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, “I guess you do Mr. President!” He said, stepping onto the crate with Jack and I. “Hey, we do,” Jack said, gesturing between himself, me, and Davey. “So…what do we tell them?” Jack asked. “Way to be a leader Mr. President,” I giggled, “Let your Vice President handle this,” “Pulitzer and Hearst gotta respect the rights of the working kids in this city!” I declared. “They can’t just change the rules when they feel like it!” Davey added. “Yeah, that’s right! We do the work, so, we get a say!” Jack chimed in. “We got a union!” Davey exclaimed. “Pulitzer and Hearst, they think we’re nothing. Are we nothing?!” Jack asked. “No!” Everyone exclaimed. “They need to understand that we’re not enslaved to them! We are free agents!” Davey declared. “Pulitzer and Hearst, they think they got us. Do they got us?!” Jack asked. “No!” Everyone yelled. “We’re a union now! The Newsboy union–” “Excuse you?” I chuckled, nudging Davey. “We’re the Newsies Union, and we mean business!” He quickly corrected. “Even though we ain’t got hats or badges, we’re a union just by saying so!” I exclaimed. “What’s to stop some other kids coming along to sell our papes?” Finch asked. “Oh, just let ‘em try!” Albert yelled, cracking his knuckles. “Yeah!” The other newsies yelled. “No! We cannot beat up on other kids!” Davey said, “We’re all in this together!” “What’s it gonna take to stop the wagons? Are we ready?!” I asked. “Yeah!” Everyone exclaimed. “What’s it gonna take to spot the scabbers? Can we do it?!” “Yeah!” Everyone yelled. “We’ll do what we gotta do until we break the will of mighty Bill and Joe!” I said, jumping down from the crate. “When the circulation bell starts ringing, will we hear it?!” Jack asked. “No!” Everyone yelled. “What if the Delanceys come out swinging? Will we hear it?!” I asked. “No!” We all rushed through the gate. Jack began climbing the ladder to the chalkboard where the man had just put up the headline. I followed. Davey let out a sigh and quickly followed us up. Immediately, Jack and I started fighting with the man. Eventually, Davey stepped in, pulling us both backward to try and actually speak to the man. Unfortunately, the man wasn’t having it. Jack got back to fighting the man and eventually pushed him down while I wrote in big letters on the chalkboard ‘STRIKE!’ The Newsies cheered. Jack and I quickly descended a few rungs of the latter before jumping down completely. Davey climbed all the way down. Then, with Jack, Davey, and I leading we all rushed over to the office of The World. Jack, Davey, and I went inside. Les followed. Within seconds, security guards immediately grabbed up, opened the doors, and threw us all outside. The only one they didn’t literally throw was Les because he was so young. Davey seemed to be shocked that they were so rough with me given that I was girl, but I knew that they didn’t give a damn that I was a girl. “And stay out!” One of the officers yelled. Les glared at the man. “You can tell Pulitzer that a few days into this strike, he’s gonna be begging for an appointment to see me!” He yelled as the officer shut the doors, “You got that?!” All of the Newsies cheered, some giving him pats on the back. “He got it!” Les declared. “Pulitzer may own The World but he don’t own us!” I yelled. “Pulitzer may crack the whip but he won’t whip us!” Jack yelled. “Try to walk all over us? We’ll stop all over you!” I declared. “Can they kick us out?! Or take away our vote?!” Crutchie asked. “No!” Everyone yelled. “The World will feel the fire and finally know!” I yelled. - At Tibby’s restaurant, the guys and I sat all around at and on tables. A waiter came around with a tray of water. “A glass of water for you,” He said, handing one to Crutchie. “And one for you,” He said, handing one to me which I instantly gave to Les. “And you,” He said, giving one to Davey. “And…” He looked down at the tray, “Who’s the big spender that ordered the seltzer?” He asked. Albert raised his hand, “Over here,” “That’ll be two cents,” The waiter said, holding it out to him, “Two cents for a glass of seltzer?” Albert huffed, “Just give me a water,” “How did I ever see that coming?” The waiter deadpanned. He handed Albert the glass of water he had brought out, anticipating this happening. Davey held up his glass of water, “I’d say we launched our strike in a most auspicious manner!” He said. I chuckled, “Davey, ain’t none of them know what that means,” I said. “Yeah, I don’t know about what he said…” Henry began, “But we sure scared the bejeebers outta Weasel!” He exclaimed, causing everyone to cheer. “And did you see the Delanceys?” Crutchie laughed, “They didn’t know which way was up!” “Hey, so, what’s next?” Jack asked Davey. “Now you have to spread the word. Let the rest of the city’s newsies know about the strike,” Davey said. “Hey, you heard the man. Let’s split up and spread the word,” Jack said, standing on one of the tables. I joined him. “I’ll take Harlem!” Elmer said. “I got Midtown!” Race chimed in. “I got the Bronx!” Henry said. “And I got the Bowery!” Mush said. “Uh, Specs, you take Queens!” I told him. He nodded, “Yep!” “Tommy Boy!” I said. “Yeah?” “Take the East Side,” I told him. “And who wants Brooklyn?” I asked. Everyone immediately averted eye contact. “Oh, come on!” I huffed, “Brooklyn. Spot Conlon’s turf,” “Finch!” I called out. He looked up at me. “You’re tellin’ me you’re scared of Brooklyn?” I asked. Finch instantly shot up from his seat, “I ain’t scared of no turf!” “Okay, so, you take Brooklyn,” I shrugged. He instantly sat back down, “But that Spot Conlon gets me a little…jittery,” He said. “Fine,” I said, “Me, Jack, and Davey will take Brooklyn,” “Me?! No!” Davey exclaimed. “Why is everyone so scared of Brooklyn?” A well-dressed girl asked, walking into the dining area. Immediately, everyone’s eyes fell on her. She was the same girl Jack had flirted with the day before. “Okay, who are you?” I questioned, looking at her. She was not the kind of girl to be around here. “This is Katherine Plumber. She’s a reporter for The Sun,” Jack informed me. “A girl reporter, huh? That’s even more rare than a girl newsie,” I said, jumping off the table, “What are you doin’ here?” “Asking a question. Have you got an answer?” Katherine asked. “Brooklyn is the sixth largest city in the entire world,” Jack said, also hopping off the table, “You got Brooklyn, you hit the motherlode,” “Say, for someone who supposedly works for the New York Sun, you seem to be spending an awful lot of time around at The World,” I told Katherine. She was walking around the streets the day before. Jack knew her name and what she did so she had obviously been around here after that. Now, she was here in Tibby’s, seemingly without a reason. “Rory’s got a point,” Jack agreed, “What’s that about, huh? You following me?” He asked, smirking. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy when he became flirty with her. “No,” Katherine said, immediately shutting him down, “The only thing I’m following is a story,” “A ragtag gang of ragamuffins wants to take on the king makers of New York? Do you think you’ll have a chance?” She said. “Oh, shouldn’t you be at the ballet?” I scoffed, dismissing her, causing the newsies to laugh. “Is the question too difficult? I’ll rephrase,” She said as if she were talking to a child, “Will the richest and most powerful men in New York give the time of day to a gang of kids who haven’t got a nickel to their name?” She asked. “Hey! You don’t gotta be insulting,” Crutchie said, “I got a nickel,” “So, I guess you’d say you’re a couple of David’s looking to take on Goliath,” She continued, ignoring Crutchie. “We never said that,” Davey said, standing up. “Well, you didn’t have to. I did,” Katherine shrugged. “You know, I’ve seen a lot of papes in my day and I ain’t never noted no girl reporters writing hard news,” Jack said. The guys and I nodded in agreement. Even as a girl myself, I knew that stuff like that simply didn’t happen. “Well, wake up to the new century. The game’s changing,” Katherine shrugged. “Now, how about an exclusive interview?” She asked. “Hey, what’s the last news story you wrote?” I asked, stepping up to her. “What’s the last strike you organized?” Katherine shot right back. “Okay,” I chuckled, “I like you,” “I’d say we save any exclusive for a real reporter,” Davey said. “Well, do you see somebody else giving you the time of day?” Katherine asked. She sighed, “Alright, so, I’m just busting out of the social pages but…but you give me the exclusive, let me run with the story, and I promise I’ll get you the space,” She told Jack and I. “Hey, you really think we could be in the papes?” Crutchie asked. “Shut down a paper like The World? You’re gonna make the front page,” Katherine said. “You want a story? Be at the circulation gate tomorrow morning, and you’ll get one,” Jack told her, “Oh, and bring your camera. You’re gonna wanna snap a picture of this!” He said, smiling. “YEAH!” The newsies exclaimed. “Kids, play outside! I gotta set up for dinner and I got paying customers that need the tables!” The waiter told us. “Come on, we’ve got newsies to visit!” Finch exclaimed. “Hey, you won’t be shooin’ us off when we get our mugs in the papes!” Race called to the waiter as we all left. “Hey, come on, Les! The folks are waiting,” Davey said, holding out his hand. Les took it and they began walking away. The other newsies went off to their own parts of the city to inform the other newsies. Jack and I stayed with Katherine. “So, what’s your story?” Katherine asked us, “Have you two always been their leaders?” “Jack, pretty much, yeah. Me, no,” I explained, “When I first started sellin’ papes I’d get ragged on for being the only girl. It took about one day until I put a stop to that,” “Then, the fellas knew she wasn’t someone to be messed with,” Jack said, “Not too long after, they started listenin’ to her too. She’d take charge if I wasn’t there, then it just turned into us both leadin’ together,” Katherine jotted what we had said down. “So, tell me about tomorrow. What are you hoping for?” She asked. Jack stepped closer to her, “I’d rather tell you what I’m hopin’ for tonight,” Katherine took a step back, “Mr. Kelly…” “Ughhh,” Jack groaned. I sighed, still feeling jealous at how flirty he was being with her. “Today, we stop the newsies from carrying out the papes,” Jack explained. “But the wagons still deliver to the rest of the city,” I added, trying to shake off what I had been feeling, “Tomorrow, we stop the wagons,” “Are you scared?” She asked. I scoffed, chuckling, “Do we look scared?” “But uh…ask us again in the morning,” I added. Jack nodded in agreement. “Good answer!” Katherine said, writing on her notepad. “Goodnight, Mr. Kelly and…” She trailed off. “Carter. Rory Carter,” I told her. “And Miss. Carter,” She finished her sentence. “I’ll see you guys in the morning,” She told us, “And, off the record…good luck,” “Hey Plumber!” I called as she walked away. Katherine turned to look at me. “Write it good,” I told her. Jack nodded, “We all got a lot riding on you,” He added. She nodded, “I will,” *the next morning* We all stood at the gate, waiting for more Newises to come, but so far there was nobody. “Is anyone else coming?” Davey asked. “I’ve not no clue,” Jack said. “Hey, well, you’ve seen Spot Conlon, right?” Race asked, “What’d he say?” “Yeah, sure, we seen him,” Jack sighed, frustrated. “Him and about twenty of his gang,” Davey added. “And them Brooklyn boys is big,” Les said. “And, I gotta say, Spot was very impressed,” Jack said, “Wasn’t he?” “I’d say,” Davey said. “Alright, so, they’re with us?” Race asked. “That all depends on how you look at it,” Davey said, “If you look and see Brooklyn, then they’re with us,” “Yeah, they wanted proof we weren’t gonna fold at the first sign of trouble,” I huffed. Mush stepped forward, “Are we?” I turned to him, looking at him like he was crazy. “We are not! No!” I huffed. “Yeah, there’s us, there’s Harlem-” Jack began. “Well, not so fast boss,” Elmer said, cutting him off as he walked up, “Harlem wants to know what Brooklyn’s gonna do,” I rested my head in my hands, “What about Queens?” “Queens will be right here backing us up!” Specs said, causing everyone to cheer. “As soon as we get the nod from Brooklyn,” He then added. Everyone’s expression dropped. “Why would you word it like that?!” I huffed, lightly smacking the back of his head. “I got the same fish-eye in Midtown,” Race said. “Say, Oscar, it looks like we got bum information about a strike happening here today,” Morris said as he and Oscar approached. Oscar began unlocking the gate. “Not that I’m complaining,” Morris continued, chuckling, “I know my skull-busting arm could use a day of rest,” “Hey, are you done?” I asked, frustrated, as Oscar pulled the gate open and we all filed through. “Are we doing the right thing?” Les asked, worried. “Sure we are!” Davey assured his brother. “Maybe we should put this off a few days,” Race sighed. “No, we cannot just put this off!” Davey insisted. He sighed, coming up to Jack and I. “Guys, they’re not listening to me,” “Say something!” He told us, “Tell ‘em if we back off now, they’ll never listen to us again!” “Hey!” Jack called, getting the newsies attention. “We can’t back down now, alright? No matter who does or doesn’t show!” He told them. “You like it or not, now is when we take a stand!” I added. “How about we don’t show up for work?” Henry said, “That’ll send a message!” “No! They’ll just replace us!” I argued, “They need to see us stand our ground!” “Davey,” I said, turning to him, “You tell them!” “Rory, I…” Davey trailed off. He took a breath, before turning to the newsies. “Now is the time to seize the day,” He told them, “We’ll find a way,” “Hey, Jack! Rory! Look what I made!” Crutchie said, coming up to us with some other newsies. He held up his crutch which had a piece of fabric on it with ‘strike’ written in it. “Good, huh?” He asked, smiling. “STRIKE!” He yelled. “Oh, that’s great!” Race told Crutchie. He then turned to the other newsies, lowering his voice, “That’s pitiful,” He said. I smacked him. “Be nice,” I warned. “Hey, Specs, any sign of reinforcements?” Jack asked Specs, who was standing on top of a crate looking for other newsies. Specs shook his head, giving a thumbs down. The newsies sighed. The circulation bell then rang. “We doin’ this?” Crutchie asked. Jack nodded, determined as ever, “Yeah” “The strike starts right damn now!” I declared. “The sun is up. The birds are singing. It’s a beautiful day to crack some heads!” Weasel said, approaching the newsies. “Step right up and get your papes,” He told us. We all stayed put. “Are you working or trespassing? What’s your pleasure?” Morris asked, stepping forward. Still, we all stayed put. Suddenly, three guys came by, put down cash and grabbed stacks of newspapers. “Hey!” Finch yelled. “Who are they?” Davey asked. “Scabs!” Jack huffed. “Oh, they think they can just waltz in here and take our jobs?!” Henry asked. “We’ll handle ‘em!” Crutchie said. “Let’s soak ‘em, boys!” Romeo yelled. “No, no, no!” Davey yelled, “We all stand together or we don’t have a chance!” “Boys!” I said, approaching the three scabs. They seemed a bit shocked that I, the lone girl, stepped up to handle them. “I know someone put you up to this,” I told them, “They probably paid you some extra money, too, huh?” They stayed quiet. “Yeah, well, it ain’t right,” I told them. “Pulitzer thinks we’re gutter rats with no respect for nothing, including each other!” I said, “Is that who we are?! We stab each other in the back?!” “If we stand together, we can change the whole game!” I said. Still, nothing. My breathing got faster, my emotions rising. “And it ain’t just about us!” I yelled, “All across this city there are boys and girls who ought to be out playing or going to school! Instead, they’re slaving to support themselves and their folks!” “Ain’t no crime to bein’ poor!” I said, “Not one of us complains that the work we do is hard! All we ask is a square deal!” I sighed, taking a breath. “For the sake of all the kids in every sweatshop, factory, and slaughterhouse in this city…I beg you, throw down your papers!” I told the scabs, my voice breaking ever so slightly. One of the scabs stepped forward, stepping up to me. His fists were clenched and his chest puffed out. The newsies instantly went on high alert, ready to react if need be. I braced myself for a punch or shove or slap or something. To my surprise though, there was nothing. “I’m with you!” The scab exclaimed, throwing down his papers. Another one of the scabs stepped forward, throwing down his papers too. The newsies cheered. “You’re kidding me, right?!” The third scab said. “At the end of the day, who are you gonna trust?!” The second scab asked. He gestured to the newsies, “Them” he then gestured to Weasel and the Delanceys, “Or them?” “Oh, what the hell! My father’s gonna kill me anyways!” The third scab said, throwing down his papers. “Yeah!” Everyone exclaimed. Les grabbed one of the stacks of newspapers from the ground, took a few papers from the top and started throwing them, ripping them, and crumpling them up. Soon, Crutchie joined, then the rest of the newsies. As Les reached for another stack, Morris and Oscar grabbed his wrists, each of them on one side of him. “Oh, hell no!” I huffed, rushing over to them. I threw a punch at Oscar which he held his arm up and stopped. Then, with his other hand, he punched me square in the jaw, sending me to the ground. I recovered quickly, running after Morris who had picked up Les and thrown him over his shoulder. Oscar was fighting with some of the other newsies. I kicked the back of Morris’s knees, causing him to stumble, his grip on Les faltering. I was right there and grabbed Les out of his arms the moment he faltered. I set him down and pushed him behind me. “You okay, kid?” I asked. He nodded, “I’m okay,” We were eventually able to surround Oscar and Morris. More punches and kicks were thrown and Oscar and Morris were holding themselves together pretty well. Eventually, we were able to take them down to their knees. Immediately, Les rushed over, throwing Oscar and Morris’s heads into each other. “Yeah!” The Newsies cheered. Albert grabbed Morris and shoved him away while Race did the same to Oscar, they were both clutching their heads. “Plumber!” I called, seeing Katherine. She came over with her camera. The guys and I got in front of it and she snapped a picture. We all cheered, grabbing newspapers and throwing them in the air, ripping them apart. Jack and I made eye contact, I ran toward him, jumping into his arms and hugged him. He picked me up, spinning around in a circle before setting me back down on my feet. “HELL YEAH!” I yelled, causing Jack to chuckle. He grabbed a newspaper off the ground and tore it into pieces, throwing the tiny pieces onto me like confetti. “Jack!” I chuckled, shoving him lightly. Davey, who was nearby, grabbed a few papers and threw them in the air, sending them falling to the ground. Other newsies were doing the same. Suddenly, it slowly got quieter and quieter until it was silent. Weasel, Oscar, Morris and some other guys were all standing in front of us. Weasel had a baseball bat, Oscar and Morris had brass knuckles, and some of the other guys had chains wrapped around their fists. “It’s time these kids learned a lesson,” Weasel said, stepping forward. It was silent for a brief moment. “Newsies!” Jack called out, “Get ‘em!” A full on brawl erupted. The newsies and I fought back as best we could but they had weapons and we didn’t. Suddenly, a whistle blew, causing everyone to stop. We turned, seeing a group of police officers. “It’s about time you showed up!” Romeo said, approaching the one officer, wiping his bloody nose, “They’re slaughtering us!” He told the man, gesturing to Weasel and the others. Without any hesitation, the officer punched him, sending him sprawling out on the ground. “ROMEO!” I yelled. “Cheese it! It’s the bulls!” Jack screamed. Everyone booked it. Some were stopped by officers, some hit, and thrown to the ground. I went to go help get the guys up who were hurt, but Snyder suddenly appeared from the group of officers, stopping me in my tracks. I knew for a fact Snyder would be going for me and Jack. The other officers would go for those who they saw as weaker first; me, Les, and Crutchie. So, I was screwed either way. Jack grabbed my wrist, “Rory, we gotta get out of here!” He said, pulling me behind him. “But…" I hesitated, “Okay, let’s go! Hurry!” Just as we thought we might get away through all the chaos, we heard something that stopped us both in our tracks. “Jack, Rory! Help!” Crutchie suddenly screamed. We spun around. Morris and Oscar both had Crutchie, one on each side of him. As Jack and I went to help, an officer started to approach us. Jack, thinking quickly, pulled me up some nearby fire escape stairs. As we reached the top of the stairs, which led to the roof, all we could do was watch. Crutchie tried to fight back, but couldn’t. Oscar punched him hard in the face, sending him to the ground, dropping his crutch. “Well, it’s off the Refuge with you, little man,” Snyder said, picking up Crutchie’s crutch. He then swung Crutchie’s crutch up over his head and hit him with it. Then again. And again. I cringed at the sound of him crying out, begging Snyder to stop. Once Snyder finally stopped hitting him, he put a pair of handcuffs on him and another officer quite literally dragged him away. “CRUTCHIE!” Jack yelled. “Jack! Rory!” Crutchie yelled, “HELP!” We went to run back down the stairs to reach him, but Snyder was already on his way up. We quickly turned back around and went back to the roof. Spotting another set of stairs on the other side of the building, I rushed across the roof and to the other set of stairs, barreling down them. Jack was right behind me. Snyder was close though. After running for what felt like forever, cutting in between buildings, hopping fences, making sharp turns, we finally lost Snyder. I stopped, catching my breath. Jack did the same. The reality of everything hit me like a truck. “NO! GODDAMNIT” I yelled. Jack huffed, throwing his hat down. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I looked at Jack, who looked to be on the verge of tears himself. Our guys were fighting, some of them injured or taken to the Refuge, including Crutchie, because of us…because we decided we should strike. “I’m done,” Jack mumbled, sitting down. “I’M DONE!” He yelled. “I wanna get the hell outta here. I wanna go!” He said. Tears finally fell from his eyes as he ran his hands through his hair. “Somewhere they won’t ever find us,” I agreed, sitting down next to him. “We’re gonna leave all this behind, you hear me?” Jack promised, “No more running, no more lying…We’re gonna go and we’re gonna get on a train that’ll take us to Santa Fe, just like we talked about,” I wiped the tears from my cheeks, “And it’ll all be better,” I sighed, hoping that what I said was true. We were both just so tired of all of this…of everything. Santa Fe was a place we talked about all the time, we’d wanted to go for years. Now, we were about to. - The next day, Jack and I went to Medda’s theater to work on another backdrop for her. The night before, Specs brought Jack and I a letter from Crutchie that we’d brought with us to Medda’s. We planned on leaving straight from the theater, so we weren’t just going to leave the last thing we received from Crutchie. Dear Jack and Rory, How are you? I'm okay. Sorry I wasn't much help yesterday. Snyder got me real good with my crutch. Oh yeah, this is Crutchie, by the way. The guards here are real rude. They tell you to jump, and if you don't, you're in big trouble. But the food ain't too bad, at least so far, 'cause they haven't given us any yet… I miss the rooftop. Sleeping out in the open, up in your penthouse in the sky. Even in July, there was always a cool breeze blowing. Anyway, guess what! I got this secret escape plan. I’ll tie a sheet to the bed, toss the end out the window, and climb down fast! But maybe not tonight... I haven't slept, and my leg still ain't right. But guys, Pulitzer's going down! And I was thinking, maybe after, we could go like you said, somewhere green and pretty. Don’t worry about me, I’'ll be fine, but there's one thing I need you to do….On the rooftop, you guys said that a family looks out for each other. So, tell all the fellas from me to protect one another. The end. Your friend, Your best friend, Your brother, Crutchie Jack wiped a tear as we finished reading it yet again, folding the note and placing it in his pocket. I also wiped the tears that fell down my cheeks, still not being able to believe we had let this happen to him. Medda approached Jack and I with an envelope in hand. “Here’s everything I owe you for the first backdrop. Plus this one,” She told us, “And even a little something extra, just because I’m gonna miss you so,” We had told her that we had plans to leave, so her giving us the money was no coincidence. “Miss. Medda–” I began. “Rory,” She cut me off, holding out the envelope. I slowly took it from her. “Thank you,” I whispered. Jack nodded, “You’re a gem,” “Just tell me you’re going somewhere…not running away,” She said, looking us both dead in the eye. “Does it matter?” Jack scoffed. “When you go somewhere and it turns out not to be the right place, you can always go somewhere else,” Medda told us, “But if you’re running away, nowhere is ever the right place,” “Very philosophical. Thanks,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. At that point, I didn’t want to hear it, I just wanted to leave without anyone else trying to preach to me. “Rory Carter!” Medda warned, pointing a finger at me. I sighed, “I’m sorry, Miss. Medda,” I apologized, “I just got a lot on my mind,” “Hey, how about lettin’ a pal know you’re alive?!” A voice suddenly said. It was Davey. He rushed over to Jack and I. “Why don’t I leave you with your friend?” Medda said to Jack and I. She then left, leaving just us and Davey. “Where did you go? We couldn’t find you!” Davey told us. We shut ourselves out from everyone after what had happened the day before. “You ever think we didn’t wanna be found?” I questioned. “Hey, is that a real place? That Santa Fe?” Davey asked, nodding to the backdrop we were painting. Neither of us replied, just continued painting. “Hey! Did you see the papes?!” He asked, holding up a newspaper, “We are front page news above the fold!” “Good for you,” Jack dismissed. “Everyone wants to meet the famous Jack Kelly and Rory Carter!” Davey exclaimed, “Even Spot Conlon sent over a kid just to say: ‘Next event you can count on Brooklyn’! How about that?!” “We got stomped into the ground,” I huffed, throwing down the paintbrush I was using into a bucket of water and picking up another. “Yeah, they got us this time. I’ll grant you that,” Davey said, “But we took round one, and with press like this, our fight is far from over,” “Every newsie who could walk was out there this morning, sellin’ papes like the strike never happened,” Jack said. “And I was right out there with them,” Davey sighed, “If I don’t sell papes, my folks don’t eat,” “Save your breath. We get it. It’s hopeless,” I shot. “But then I saw this look on Weasel’s face!” Davey continued, “He was actually nervous and I realized this isn’t over. We got ‘em worried. Really worried,” “And I walked away. Lots of other kids did, too!” He told us, “And that is what you call a beginning!” “There they are! Just like I said!” Les’s small voice said. He had Katherine by the hand, leading her toward us. His other arm was in a sling due to what happened the day before. I sighed. “For crying out loud, where’s a fella gotta go to get away from you people?!” Jack huffed, “There’s no escaping us, pal. We’re inevitable,” Davey said, “We’ll see about that,” I scoffed. “So, what’s the story? Can we have the theater?” Les asked Davey. “Pipe down. I didn’t ask yet,” Davey told him. “What’s the holdup?” Les asked, “I need to let my girl know we’ve got a date!” Davey’s eyes widened, “Your girl?” “You heard me!” Les replied, “I’ve been swattin’ skirts away all morning! Fame is one intoxicating potion, and this here girl, Sally, she’s a plum,” I normally would have smiled or laughed or asked him about this girl…but I just couldn’t. I remained stone faced, as Jack and I continued to paint. Katherine approached us. “Word is, you wrote a great story,” Jack said. “Yeah, really knocked it outta the park,” I added, clapping her on the shoulder. “Wow, you guys look like hell,” She said. “Gee, thanks,” I huffed, pushing past her. “Hey, Jack, Rory! Where’s that supposed to be?” Les asked, pointing to our painting. “It’s Santa Fe,” Davey informed him. “Oh, I gotta tell you Jack…this ‘Go west, young man!’ routine is getting tired,” Katherine told him, “And now you’ve got Rory in on it,” “He didn’t get me in on nothing, we’ve been planning this long before you came along, princess,” I said. “I’m just saying, even Horace Greeley moved back to New York,” She said. “Yes he did,” Les stated, “And then he died,” “Les,” Davey said quickly, sighing. “Ain’t reporters supposed to be non-partisan?” Jack asked Katherine, wiping the paint off his hands with a rag. “Ask a reporter,” Katherine sighed, “Pulitzer’s had me blacklisted from every news desk in town,” “Can we table the palaver and get back to business? Will Medda let us have the theater?” Les asked. “Miss. Medda,” I corrected Les, “And what are you on about?” I asked. “It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Davey told Jack and I, “We wanna hold a rally, a citywide meeting where every newsie gets a day and a vote,” “And…we do it after working hours so no one loses a day’s pay,” He added, “Smart?” “Yeah, smart enough to get you committed to a padded room!” Jack huffed, passing me the rag so I could also wipe my hands. “What he said,” I scoffed. “The two people who paint places they’ve never seen are calling us crazy?” Katherine asked. I threw down the rag, causing her to jump, and stormed over, stepping up to her, “Watch your mouth,” I warned. “You wanna see a place we’ve seen, huh?!” Jack challenged, shoving past her, “How ‘bout this?” He turned the backdrop and revealed a painting he and I did. It was of the newsies being crushed by Pulitzer. “Newsie Square, thanks to our big mouths, filled to overflowing with failure!” Jack huffed, “Kids hurt, others arrested–” “Lighten up. No one died!” Davey cut off Jack. “Oh, is that what you’re aiming for?!” I asked. Davey sighed, staying silent. “No! Go on!” I told him, “Call us cowards! Call us quitters! Ain’t no way we’re putting those kids back in danger!” “We’re doing something that’s never been done before! How could that not be dangerous?” Davey argued. I clenched my jaw, my voice catching in my throat. “Specs brought us a note from Crutchie at the Refuge,” I said, “We tried to go see him. We went up the fire escape…” My voice broke, “They busted him up so bad he couldn’t even come to the window!” “What if he don’t make it?!” I cried, “Are you willing to shoulder that?! For what, half a penny a pape?!” “It’s not about pennies, Rory!” Davey said, “You said it yourself. My family wouldn’t be in the mess we’re in if my father had a union!” I turned to walk away from him but he grabbed my arm. “This is a fight we have to win!” He said. Jack stepped in between Davey and I, “If either of us wanted a sermon, we’d show up for church!” He yelled. “Tell me how quitting does Crutchie any good?” Davey asked. Jack clenched his jaw, tears spilling down his cheeks. “Exactly,” Davey said. “So, here’s how it goes…” He declared, “Once we win, and we will be winning, make no mistake,” “We’ll be what?” Jack asked. “We’re already winning,” Davey said. I scoffed, “Oh, right,” “And we’ll tell ‘em straight out, they let Crutchie go or they keep getting pounded,” He continued. “Davey, what the hell?!” Jack huffed, “Did they bust up your brains or something? As I recall, we all got our asses kicked! They won!” He screamed. “Won the battle,” Davey corrected. “Oh, come on!” Jack yelled. “Guys, think about it! We got them surrounded!” Davey said. “And here’s what we think: Joe’s a jerk! He’s a rattlesnake!” I argued. “You’re right…and you know why a snake starts to rattle?” “Why?” I asked. “‘Cause he’s scared,” “Oh, sure,” I scoffed. “Go and look it up,” He told me. “The poor guy’s head is spinning!” He continued, “Why would he send the goons? An entire army? Dozens of goons, plus the cops, and–” “You know, you may be right!” Jack huffed, reluctantly admitting it. “He knows we’re winning,” I muttered, the realization hitting me. I turned to Jack, tears in my eyes, “We’re doing something no one’s ever tried…and yes, we’re scared, but watch what happens,” “You can’t undo the past–” Jack began. “So just move on!” Davey urged. “And stay on track!” Katherine chimed in. Les approached Jack and I, “Whatcha thinking?” He asked. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Jack turned to me and nodded, nothing but pure determination in both of our eyes. “We’re back,” Jack declared. Jack, Les, and I all spit in our hands. Katherine then did the same. Davey hesitated for a moment, then did as well. We all shook hands. Davey was right, this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. - Jack and I, fueled by pure determination, went to the office of The World to talk to Pulitzer ourselves. We actually got past the front doors this time without a security guard dragging us out. A woman brought us to an office where we were told to wait outside, and a few minutes later she opened the door and gestured for us to follow her through. “Mr. Jack Kelly and Miss. Rory Carter,” They woman said as we entered Pulitzer's office. “Hey,” Jack greeted as we strolled inside. “Good afternoon, boys,” I said. "And which Jack Kelly and Rory Carter are these? The charismatic union organizers? Or the escaped convict and the criminal who helped that convict get out of jail?” “Which one gives us more in common?” I asked, smirking. Pulitzer raised his brows, “Impudence is in bad taste when crawling for mercy,” “Crawling for mercy,” Jack mocked, laughing, “That’s a laugh!” He chuckled. “No, we just stopped by with an invite,” He continued. “It seems a few hundred of your employees are rallying to discuss some, uh…recent disagreements,” I said, “Now, we thought that it was only fair to invite you to state your case directly to the fellas,” “Huh? So what do you say, Joe?” Jack asked, “Want I should save you a spot on the bill?” Pulitzer shook his head, “You two are as shameless and disrespectful as I was told,” He said. “Do you know what I was doing when I was your age?” He asked. “No, but I’m sure you’re going to enlighten us!” I said sarcastically, causing Jack to chuckle. “I was fighting in a war,” Pulitzer told us. “Oh, yeah, how’d that work out for you?” Jack asked. “It taught me a lesson that shaped my life,” He said, “You don’t win a war on the battlefield. It’s the headline that crowns the victor,” “Well, we will keep that in mind when New York wakes up to front page photos of our rally,” Jack said, a confident smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, rally till the cows come home. Not a paper in town will publish a word,” Pulitzer shrugged, “And if it’s not in the papers, it never happened,” Jack stepped up to him, “You may run this city, but there are some of us who cannot be bullied. Even some reporters,” “Such as that young woman who made you yesterday’s news,” Pulitzer said, grabbing the paper from his desk, “Talented girl,” “And beautiful as well, don’t you think?” He added. Jack and I looked at each other confused. “Yeah, we’ll tell her you said so,” Jack scoffed, chuckling. “Oh, no need. She can hear for herself,” Pulitzer said, “Can’t you, darling?” Suddenly, someone stood up from a chair that was facing the wall. A chair we hadn’t realized anyone was even in. It was Katherine. “I trust you know my daughter, Katherine,” Pulitzer said, gesturing to her. I clenched my jaw, letting out an angry chuckle, “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” “Yes. My daughter,” Pulitzer said, a triumphant smile on his lips. “You’re probably asking, why the non de plume? Why doesn’t my daughter work for me? Good questions,” He continued, “I offered Katherine a life of wealth and leisure. Instead, she chose to pursue a career…and she was showing real promise until this recent lapse,” He then turned his attention to Katherine, “But you’re done with all of that now, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Katherine stepped forward, trying to approach Jack and I, “Guys, I didn’t mean–” “No,” I shot, holding out my hand to stop her, my voice breaking. “Don’t trouble them with your problems, dearest,” Pulitzer told her, “Mr. Kelly and Miss. Carter have a plateful of their own,” He suddenly looked over his shoulder, “Wouldn’t you say so, Mr. Snyder?” Suddenly, Snyder came from the back. “Hello, Jack. Rory,” He said. Instantly, Jack and I made a beeline for the door. Unfortunately, Morris and Oscar were there waiting. Oscar grabbed me and Morris grabbed Jack. “Does anyone else feel a noose tightening?” Pulitzer asked, smirking as Jack and I struggled against the Delancey’s. Pulitzer looked at Oscar and Morris then nodded. The two brothers let Jack and I go, shoving us forward, causing us to stumble. “But allow me to offer an alternate scenario…” Pulitzer told us, “You attend this rally and you speak against the hopeless strike…and I’ll see your criminal records expunged. And your pockets filled with enough cash to carry you in a first-class train compartment from New York to New Mexico’s and beyond,” He then turned to his daughter, “You did say they wanted to travel west, didn’t you?” My jaw clenched. She told him. I stepped up to Katherine, my eyes brimming with tears, “Screw you, Plumber,” I spat. I then paused, looking her dead in the eye, “No, I’m sorry. Pulitzer,” I corrected, using her real last name, glaring at her. “There ain’t a person in this room that don’t know you stink,” Jack told Pulitzer. “And if they know me, they know I don’t care,” Pulitzer said confidently, “Mark my words. Defy me, and I’ll have you two and every one of your friends locked up in the Refuge,” “Now, I know that you’re Mr. Tough Guy and Miss. Tough Girl…but it’s not right to condemn that little, crippled boy to conditions like that,” He continued. I blinked my tears away, my fists clenched. “And what about your pal Davey?” He questioned, “Davey and his baby brother ripped from their loving family and tossed to the rats,” He shook his head, “Will they ever be able to thank you two enough?” He asked. Jack sighed, his own tears fueled by anger and frustration now coming “Time’s running out, kids. So, what do you say? West coast or convicts, I win either way,” Pulitzer said. He laughed, “Your abject surrender was always the bottom line,” He then turned to Oscar and Morris, “Gentlemen, escort our guests to the cellar so they might reflect in solitude,” Once again, Oscar grabbed me and Morris grabbed Jack and they forced us out of the office. “Get your hands off me!” I hissed, fighting against Oscar, but it was no use. They forced us through the hallways and down the stairs to the cellar. As I reached the third to last step, I felt a rough shove, delivered by Oscar. I fell down the last few steps catching myself on the floor. I clenched my jaw. Jack shot Oscar a glare as he grabbed my hand, helping me to my feet. “And now, we’ve been given discretion to handle you as we see fit. Yeah? So behave,” Morris shot. “Oh, but just in case, I’ve been polishing my favorite brass knuckles,” Oscar said, holding up his fist. “Maybe you should’ve spent more time polishing your skills,” I shot back. Instantly, Oscar surged forward, pushing my back against the wall. I looked at him, smiling. “Take your best shot,” I challenged. His fists clenched and for a moment I thought he might hit me, but instead he grabbed my arm and shoved me away from him. I couldn’t help but chuckle. Jack wasn’t doing much, which was out of character for him. He seemed so…defeated. “You got anything else to say, girl?” Morris asked, almost challenging me to say something else. I stayed silent, crossing my arms and smirking. Morris then pulled off a tarp that was covering something in the middle of the room, “You can sleep right here on this old printing press,” He said smugly, throwing the tarp at Jack. He then hit the printing press a few times, laughing, “Now that there is firm,” He and Oscar chuckled as they left the cellar, the sound of a lock clicking behind us. “They’re something else, huh, Kelly?” I asked, chuckling. Jack didn’t say anything, he was just looking at the ground. I approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Hey…it’s gonna be okay,” I assured him. “And what if it’s not?!” He challenged, “Pulitzer was right! Crutchie, Davey…Les! Ain’t none of them handling the Refuge!” He said. “Then all of our other guys locked away in that hellhole too? What good does that do them?” He asked. “We’ll figure something out! We always do!” I told him. He sighed, shaking his head. “Listen, we tell ‘em we’ll speak against the strike,” I said, laying out a plan, “They won’t arrest us, or any of the newsies, if they think you and I are speaking against it,” “And what do we do when they find out we didn’t?! Huh?!” He challenged, “What happens when they realize we were playin’ then?!” “Jack, I don’t know!” I told him, “But one thing I know for damn sure, is that we ain’t gonna let them win,” - We sat down in that cellar for hours. Jack didn’t say much the entire time, he seemed lost in his thoughts. He seemed defeated. The choice we had to make was hard, but I knew deep down that speaking against the strike was not the right way to go. When Morris and Oscar came to let us out later that night, Pulitzer was with them. “I trust you’ve made a decision?” Pulitzer asked. Jack clenched his jaw, “We’ll go. We’ll speak against the strike,” Pulitzer smiled, seeming quite pleased with himself. “Then, by all means, leave. You have a theater of newsies waiting for you,” He told us. “Rory, you go. I’ll catch up,” Jack said. I furrowed my brows, “What?” “Just go. I, uh…I need to have a word with Pulitzer,” He said. “Jack–” “Rory, I said go,” He told me. I nodded, “Yeah, okay. I’ll meet you,” With that, I left the cellar, beginning to make my way to the theater. - “Hey! I’m here!” I called, jogging into the theater. I was just slightly late but nothing too bad. “Here she is, Rory Carter!” Davey said as I rushed on stage with him. “Rory! Rory! Rory! Rory!” The crowd began to chant. “Where’s Jack?” Davey asked over the chanting. “He’ll be here soon,” I assured, “We can start without him,” “You…you want me to start with you?” He asked, “Rory, I can’t–” “Yes, you can,” I assured him. I stepped up to the front of the stage, “Newsies of New York!” I yelled, stopping the chanting. Everyone’s attention was drawn to me. “Look at what we’ve done!” I said, gesturing around the theater, “We got newsies from every pape and every neighborhood here tonight!” Davey stepped up next to me. I gave him an encouraging nod. “Tonight, you’re making history!” He told everyone, “Tonight, we declare that we are just as much a part of the newspaper as any reporter or editor! We are done being treated like kids! From now on, they will treat us as equals!” He exclaimed. Everyone cheered him on. A smile came to his face. “Feels good, right?” I asked, chuckling. “You wanna be talked to like an adult? Start acting like one! Don’t just run your mouth. Make some sense,” Jack suddenly said as he pushed his way through to get on stage. I furrowed my brows, about to take a breath to say something to him for what he had said, but Davey stepped forward before I had the chance. “And here’s Jack!” He announced to the crowd, who began chanting his name like they did mine. “Alright!” Jack yelled, silencing the crowd. They all looked at him. “Pulitzer raised the price of papes without so much as a word to us and that was a lousy thing to do…” Jack began, “So, we got mad and we showed him we ain’t gonna be pushed around. We go on strike. And then what happens? Well, Pulitzer lowers the price of papes, so we’ll go back to work…” The crowd began to cheer but Jack held up a hand, stopping them. “And then a few weeks after that, he hikes up his price again, and don’t think he won’t,” He continued, “So what do we do then? And what do we do when he decides to raise his price again after that? Fellas, we gotta be realistic here! If we don’t work, we don’t get paid!” “Jack, what the hell?!” I asked, approaching him. “How many days can you go without making money? Huh?” He questioned, “Believe me, however long, Pulitzer can go longer,” “But, I have spoken with Mr. Pulitzer and he has given me his word…if we disband the union–” Before he could even finish his sentence, everyone immediately went crazy, booing him and yelling shouts of protest. “He will not raise prices again for two years! He’ll even put that in writing!” Jack yelled over everyone, “Now, I say we take the deal! We go back to work knowing our price is secure!” I stepped up to Jack, my fists clenched. “What is your problem?!” I asked, “We agree we weren’t doing this!” “You said you weren’t doing it,” He simply said. I shook my head, tears of pure anger filling my eyes. That’s why Jack had told me to leave. After I left, he told Pulitzer that I had no intention of speaking against the strike, but that he would still do it. He sold me out. He sold us out. “It’s a sellout!” I yelled to all the other newsies, “Pulitzer offered me and Jack money to speak against the strike! I SAID NO!” I paused, looking at Jack, “And I thought Jack did too…but he didn’t,” “He’s a traitor!” I yelled, shoving him with more force than I thought I ever could. Jack staggered backward, almost falling, but Race was there and grabbed him, throwing him toward the exit. The entire theater erupted into pure anger, directed toward Jack. Newsies yelling things at him, jostling him as he walked past. Seitz, one of Pulitzer’s workers, stepped out from the shadows. He was there to make sure Jack followed through with the deal. Seitz reached into his pocket and pulled out a stack of cash, handing it to Jack. This only escalated everyone’s anger. Les tapped Jack on the shoulder. Jack, on edge, spun around and raised his fis, ready to defend himself against what he must have assumed was an attack. Les jumped backward. “JACK?!” I yelled. Davey’s eyes widened. Jack was on edge, he was in a room filled with people who wanted to beat the hell out of him, I know I did. I couldn’t blame him for being jumpy, what upset me was the fact that he didn’t even look at who it was before starting to swing. Jack’s fist stopped mid air as soon as he realized it was Les that tapped him. He let out a breath and moved toward the exit. As he left, he looked back at all of us. He made eye contact with Davey, who had tears in his eyes. “Davey…” Jack said, his voice breaking. Davey just shook his head, completely betrayed. I grabbed Davey’s arm and led him away. I was so angry. So incredibly angry. We all were. - Later that night, I went up to the rooftop where Jack, Crutchie, and I slept to grab what little I had. No way in hell was I staying with Jack anymore. Part of me hoped he was there so I could talk to him. Another part of me never wanted to see him again. As I climbed the ladder to the rooftop someone was there, but it wasn’t Jack. It was Katherine. She had a few drawings in her hands, some of them Jack made and some of them I made. “How’d you get here?” I huffed. “Well, Specs showed me–” “What? He say you can go through my stuff?!” I yelled, ripping some of the drawings out of her hands. “I saw them rolled up sticking out of there. I didn’t know what they were!” She told me. I put them back in there place, running my hands through my hair. “These are drawings of the Refuge, aren’t they?” She asked, looking at the remaining drawings she had, “Is there really what it’s like in there? Three kids to a bed, rats everywhere, and vermin…” “What? A little different from where you were raised?” I asked, yanking the remaining drawings out of her hand. “Snyder told my father that you and Jack were arrested for stealing food and clothing…you didn’t tell me that you’ve been arrested,” She said. “Jack and I got nabbed at the same time. He had a previous record and I didn’t, so he got six months and I got three,” I explained, “Spent my three months in the Refuge, got released, then helped Jack escape,” “It’s just…you guys stole to feed those boys, didn’t you?” She asked. “We wasn’t doin’ it for fun,” I shot back. “I just don't understand!” She sighed, “If Jack was willing to go to jail for those boys, how could he turn his back on them now?” “Okay, you know what, I don’t know!” I told her, still so incredibly angry at Jack. “But I don’t think you’re one to talk about turning on folks,” I snapped. “I never turned on you or anyone else,” She said. “Oh, you didn’t?! You just double crossed us to your father! Your father!” I huffed. “My father has eyes on every corner of this city. He doesn’t need me spying for him,” She argued, “And I never lied, I just didn’t tell you everything,” “Yeah, right,” I scoffed. “I told you that I worked for The Sun and I did. I told you my professional name is Plumber and it is, neither you or Jack asked my real one,” She said. “We wouldn’t think we had to unless we knew we were dealing with a backstabber!” I snapped. I took a breath, calming myself. “Look, I don’t feel like dealing with you, Jack, or anyone else right now, so I suggest you get the hell out of here,” I said. “Rory-” She began. “Leave,” I told her. She sighed. Slowly, she made her way to the ladder and climbed down. I sat on the edge of the roof, tears spilling down my cheeks. Katherine had betrayed me. Jack had betrayed me. It felt like a punch in the gut. After taking a few moments to compose myself, I began sifting through the drawings Jack and I made, separating mine from his. I also grabbed my sketch pad, which I made from scratch, and my pencil. Once I had everything of mine, I moved to the ladder but stopped when I heard someone climbing up. My jaw clenched and my stomach twisted when I came face to face with Jack. “Rory…” He said simply. “I came to pick up my things. Don’t let me bother you,” I said, moving past him toward the ladder. He sighed, “So, what? You’re leaving,” “After you stabbed me in the back? Sold me out to Pulitzer and Snyder? Betrayed all of the newsies?” I asked, “You’re lucky I haven’t swung on you,” “Rory, it ain’t like that-” “It’s exactly like that!” I shot back, “Pulitzer gave me the same offer and I said no!” “Because you weren’t thinking! You weren’t thinking about yourself, about the guys…Rory, they would’ve crushed us!” He argued, “I was trying to protect everyone! I did what I thought was right!” "You think this was right?" I asked. “You’ve lost it, Jack,” I scoffed. “I’ve lost it?!” He asked, “You think it didn’t kill me to make that choice? Sometimes you just gotta make the hard calls," “Hard calls don’t mean stabbing your friends in the back! They don’t mean selling out your friends for a few dollars and a promise of safety that’ll never come!” I shot, “The choice that I made was a hard call! You took the easy option!” “You think I wasn’t worried about Sndyer busting in there and arresting us all? You think I wasn’t imagining Davey and Les getting dragged off to that hellhole?” I asked, “I was! I was terrified of it!” I looked him dead in the eye, my jaw clenched, “But I stood by my friends, my brothers…you didn’t, because you’re a coward,” “Coward?” He repeated, “You think I’m a coward for doin’ what I did? For tryin’ to keep us all from gettin’ hurt?!” “You didn’t stop nothing and you know it! You think Pulitzer’s word means anything?!” I asked, “It doesn’t! But you’re acting too damn stupid to realize that!” He clenched his jaw, letting out an angry chuckle, “You know, if you weren’t a girl you’d be trying to talk with a fist in your mouth!” He seethed. “Don’t let that stop you!” I shrugged, stepping up to him, “It doesn’t stop the Delanceys!” “Come on! Give me your best shot!” I challenged. Jack suddenly grabbed my face and kissed me. All of his emotions were charged into the kiss. I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me. After a few moments, we pulled apart, just looking at each other. Jack tried to take a step toward me but I held out my hand, stopping him. I sighed. “I need to know that you didn’t cave for the money,” I whispered. “No. I spoke the truth,” He sighed, “You win a fight when you got the other fella down eating pavement,” “I mean, you heard Pulitzer! No matter how many days we strike, he ain’t never giving up!” He continued. “I don’t…I don’t know what else we can do!” He said, his voice breaking. “But I do…” Katherine said as she pushed herself onto the roof. “I thought I told you to leave,” I said. She held up a piece of paper, “Just hear me out,” I looked at Jack, who clenched his jaw but nodded. “We’re listening,” I told Katherine. “The strike was your idea, the rally was Davey’s, and now my plan will take us to the finish line,” She said, unfolding the paper she was holding. “Deal with it,” She said, smiling. Jack snatched it from her, holding it out so he and I could both read it. “The Children’s Crusade,” I read aloud. “For the sake of all the kids in every sweatshirt, factory, and slaughterhouse in New York, I beg you, join us,” Katherine said, reciting what I had told the scabs. “With those words the strike stopped being just about the newsies!” Katherine said, “Rory, you challenged our whole generation to stand up and demand a place at the table,” “Think guys!” She said, “If we publish this, my words with one of your drawings! And if every worker under twenty-one read it and stayed home from work…or better yet, they came to Newsies Square! A general citywide strike! Even my father couldn’t ignore that!” Jack sighed, “We have one small problem. We got no way to print it,” “Oh, come on, there has to be one printing press he doesn’t control,” Katherine said. My eyes widened with realization. The printing press in the cellar at The World. I looked at Jack, who understood what I was saying with just a glance. “Oh, no,” He sighed, chuckling. “What?” Katherine asked. “We know where there’s a printing press no one would ever think we’d use,” Jack said. “Well, then why are we still standing here!” Katherine exclaimed, rushing toward the ladder and climbing down. I chuckled, moving to follow her. “Hey, wait! Rory!” Jack called me. I turned to face him. “What is this about for you?” He asked, “And I’m not talking about the strike or the Children’s Crusade…” “What’s this about?” He questioned, gesturing between me and him, “Am I kidding myself or is there something…” He trailed off. I smiled, stepping closer to him, “Of course there is,” “Well, don’t just say it like it happens everyday!” He exclaimed. “Jack, I didn’t–” I began. “No! I’m not an idiot!” He cut me off, “People like us…we’re always lookin’ for something, anything, to make us feel better, to make life a little less hard. We’re always chasing some kind of happiness. And I get it, I do the same thing. But I need to know… is this–” He gestured between us again, his hand shaking slightly, “Is this real? Or am I just foolin’ myself? What if you’re just trying to fill the emptiness with something that ain’t really there?” “It’s just…standing here tonight looking at you, I’m scared tomorrow’s gonna come and change everything,” He said, “If there was a way I could grab hold of something, just to make time stop, so I could just keep on looking at you,” “I know it’s hard to believe, especially when everything around us is constantly trying to pull us down…but this is real,” I said. I grabbed his hands, “You snuck up on me, Jack Kelly. I’ve known you for years and I never saw nothing like this coming…but there’s something here, something real,” “For sure?” He asked. I smiled, “For sure,” I pulled him down for a kiss. His arms encircled my waist and brought me closer to him, melting into the kiss. “So, like, are you guys coming or not? Becoming I don’t have the slightest idea where we’re going,” Katherine said, chuckling. Jack and I quickly pulled apart to see that she had climbed back up a few rungs on the ladder. Jack chuckled, “We’re comin’,” He said, gesturing for me to go down the ladder first. “Alright, so what’s the plan?” Katherine asked as we all hit the bottom of the ladder. “There’s an old printing press in the cellar of The World,” Jack told her, “You think you can find a way to get us into the building? Maybe through the service entrance or a side door no one uses?" “I can manage that,” She said, “I can also find someone who can help us print,” “Sounds good,” Jack said, “While you’re doing that, me and Rory will go find Davey and get him to round up a few more of the fellas,” “Meet at The World?” I asked, turning to Katherine. “Yeah. Stay safe, guys,” She told us. Jack and I wandered the streets, trying to figure out where Davey would’ve gone. I knew he wasn’t at home, after we left the theater he and I Les back to the house, then he went off with Race. Eventually, we turned a corner into an alleyway a lot of the newsies spent their time in. It seemed to be empty at first, but near the back there was movement. Race and Davey were there, leaning against the wall of a building. “Guys…” Jack said, stepping forward first. Race looked up first, his expression shifting. “You got a lot of nerve showing up here,” Race seethed, grabbing Jack’s collar. “Hey…take it easy,” I urged, stepping into his view. Race’s grip loosened when he saw me, “Rory?” “Kelly, finally decided to come to his senses,” I explained, giving Jack a look. “Listen, we need your help,” Jack told them. We then told them the whole plan about the Children’s Crusade, printing papers, and starting a citywide strike. Davey sighed, looking at Jack, “Are you really with us?” He asked. Jack nodded, “I’m with you, and I’m sorry I wasn’t before,” With that, our plan was in action. - “I’ll get the lights, you get those windows unlocked,” Katherine told Jack as we all made our way into the cellar. Race and Davey trailed behind Jack and I while two men I hadn’t met were with Katherine. “We got enough keys here for the entire building,” Jack said, looking through them. “Has someone been picking daddies pockets?” I asked, raising my brows. “The janitor’s been working here since he was eight and hasn’t had a raise in twenty years,” Katherine explained, “He’s with us 100%” “Hey, you bring enough fellas to keep us covered?” Jack asked Davey. “We could hold a hoedown in here and no one would be the wiser,” Davey said. Jack clapped him on the back, “Alright, good job!” Jack started toward the windows to unlock them but Davey grabbed his arm, “Hey,”. “Huh?” Jack asked. “It’s good to have you back again,” Davey told him, “Shut up,” Jack said, continuing forward. “Here she is, boys,” Katherine told the two men, “Now just think, while my father snored blissfully in his bed, we will be using his very own press to bring him down,” She said. “Hey, is this what they print the papes on?” Race asked, admiring the press. “No, they do it by magic,” I told Race, giggling. “I can see why they tossed this old girl down to the cellar but I think she’ll do the job,” The first of the two men said as he examined the press. “Jack, Rory, this is Darcy,” Katherine told us, gesturing to him, “He knows just about everything there is to know about printing,” Darcy stepped forward, holding out his hand. Instinctively, Jack spit into his hand, holding out his hand as well. Darcy immediately pulled his hand back, looking at Jack in disgust. “I’m sorry…” Jack sighed, wiping his hand off on his shirt. He then shook Darcy’s hand. “You work for one of the papes?” I asked him as I shook his hand. “My father owns The Trib,” He said proudly. “Woah- WOAH!” Jack said, the realization hitting him. “And this is Bill,” Katherine introduced, gesturing to the second man, “He’ll be typesetting the article for us,” “Bill? So I suppose you’re the son of William Randolph Hearst, right?” Jack asked, chuckling. “Yeah, and proud to be a part of your revolution,” Bill said, shaking Jack’s hand. He then moved to shake mine, leaving Jack standing there stunned, before stepping aside with Darcy. “Ain’t that something?” Jack muttered, nudging me. “In the words of the little one, can we table the palaver and get back to business?” Katherine asked, quoting Les. Darcy looked at the press, “A little grease and she’ll be good as gold,” “Alright, here’s how it’ll work…” Davey began, stepping forward, “As we print the papes, Race, you’ll let the fellas in and they’ll spread ‘em to every working kid in New York,” Race nodded, lighting a cigar. “After that…well, it’s up to them,” Jack shrugged, placing the keys in Race’s hand. Race jogged up the stairs to unlock the door for the other newsies. “You ready?” Jack asked, grabbing my hands. “I have to be,” I replied, “We ain’t come this far to lose,” “HERE THEY COME!” Race called, rushing back inside. A bunch of newsies rushed in the door behind him. “Come on, boys! Let’s go!” He urged as they rushed down the stairs. Darcy, Katherine, and a few newsies began with the printing. Jack and I greeted Spot Conlon, shaking his hand. “You ain’t gonna bail again?” He asked Jack. “Never,” Jack assured. “We need to move as many of these papes as we can, so get your Brooklyn boys ready,” I told him. “You got it, Carter,” He replied, going over to a few of the other Brooklyn newsies. “Hey! We got our first pape!” Race exclaimed, handing it to Katherine. Katherine smiled, clutching it tightly in her hands. “Union leaders Jack Kelly and Rory Carter have made their stance clear. ‘We will work with you, we will even work for you, but we will be paid and treated as valuable members of your organization,’ Kelly asserted. Carter added, ‘This isn’t just about fair wages—this is about dignity, respect, and the recognition that without us, your organization crumbles. We demand our rightful place, not as tools of profit, but as partners in success.’” She read aloud. Everyone cheered as she passed the paper to Spot. “Riveting stuff, huh?” Katherine asked Jack and I. I smiled, “You’re one hell of a writer,” “Now get going,” Jack urged, “You got a very important man to see,” “Well, keep your fingers crossed, okay?” She said. I crossed my fingers, “Always,” Jack nodded, crossing his as well. She gave a quick smile before rushi