The Newsies
Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
This is the tricky part of the story. Things get twisted, lives are rejected and friendships are permanently and temporarily broken. This is the kind of part where you expect a hero but he doesn't come and then he does and you say, "Aw, author! You got me there!" But, this is the part where Jack rejects his best friend in the whole world due to some mistakes. Due to the mistakes of rudeness, insults and other mean things friends do when they're angry. So, this is where that part begins...
"Jack, we-we can't just leave 'im 'ere!" Mush shouted.
"Leave who?" Kid Blink said, walking down towards them. The other Newsies had been up out of the cave waiting, but the wait was long a boring, so most of them came inside.
"Racetrack... Look!" Mush said, turning Race towards him. Race was as pale as a ghost. His eyes looked sunken in and his arms and legs were weak and small.
"Wh-- Jack's leaving Race here to die?"Kid Blink said. (This was a mistake obviously when) Jack suddenly turned to Blink and pushed his cowboy hat further on his head.
"Blink, how many times have I been there for you?" He asked, "When was I ever not at your side?" He slammed his finger on his own chest.
"Uh-- I don't know..." Was his reply.
"Exactly! I never leave your side. But, have you ever seen me in desperate need of some other kid's help? NO! I deal with pain, sorrow and anxiety-- like a man should! Unlike you--you-- STREET RATS, I know how to not cry and whine for my dead motha when I am sick, tired or in pain! So why don't you all shut up, leave him alone and stop slowing us down so we can save another kid's butt!?" Jack looked furious. His face had turned red from screaming. Blink's had turned red from embarrassment. Everyone stared in silence. Not a word was spoken, not a sound heard but the heavy breathing of Jack. All was silent when suddenly, Boots stood up, clenched his fists and said,
"No..." His eyebrows shifted into a mean look, "No! You are not the Jack Kelly we know! Now, these kids here, we can help Race while those--" He said this pointing at a couple of other kids, "Those can help Davey. There's enough care here to help everyone Jack! Now why don't you help yourself, and everyone, and leave!" He stood strong and tall (Even for a short boy like himself). Jack looked back and forth to everyone breathed in deep and let it out really fast.
"Fine, is that how all of you feel?" Everyone was silent. "Fine..." Jack stomped passed Boots and shoved him. Walking passed Race he purposely kicked dust in his eyes. Jack climbed to the top of the cave and out to the top, where the moon shone down on the sandy ground. Jack didn't even stop or say goodbye, he just kept walking and walking 'til it was too late to stay up. He came to a stable with a bag of hay lying perfectly on the hard dusty ground. Fixing himself, Jack lay down on the soft (but prickly) bag. Almost immediately he drifted off to sleep. His dream was not a dream but a memory. A tremendous memory from his wonderful childhood. Here is what he drempt:
Racetrack was four years old and Jack seven. Race had been sent to the Lodging house the other day and was very nervous and lonely. One day, when the boys from the Lodging House were playing by the statue, Jack saw Racetrack suspiciously walking back to the rest of them. When Race got in ear shot, Jack called to him.
"Hey, boy! Where were you? Kloppmann searched the town for you!"
"He wouldn't find me dere!" Race said smiling. "I was down at the Tracks watching the horses. Number seven won." Jack looked at him oddly.
"How do you get there?" He asked picking up his wooden stick, which he often pretended was a horse, and leaning on it.
"I hitched a ride. Y'know, carriages!" Race answered eyeing Jack's cowboy hat. "Wh- Why do you wear that hat?" He asked.
"Oh, this? Its a cowboy's hat." He answered, pulling it on his head.
"Oh..." A long silence drifted over the two as they stood there staring at the cobblestone road. Suddenly, both looking at eachother, both smiling the two young silly boys began to smirk, snicker, giggle, chuckle and then burst out laughing. From then on Jack called to Race everytime he came back from the tracks. And then one day, not saying "Hey boy" He said,
"Hey, Racetrack!" Smiling, the boys knew this would be the new name of the new best friend. That same day, a few seconds later, the reply came out of Race as,
"Hey, Cowboy, whaddya hear, whaddya say!" That is where the boys began their nicknames. The two best friends stuck side by side always. In hardship, tears and laughter, they were always with eachother.
Suddenly, a hard tip of a shoe smashed Jack's face. He immediately woke up and sprung to his feet.
"You here for a job, kid?" Said a man dressed in leather and boots with a heavy southern accent.
"Uh, no... Sorry... " Jack said smiling. The man's wife came out, old and frail holding a musket and shouted,
"Then leave ya little rascal!"
This is the tricky part of the story. Things get twisted, lives are rejected and friendships are permanently and temporarily broken. This is the kind of part where you expect a hero but he doesn't come and then he does and you say, "Aw, author! You got me there!" But, this is the part where Jack rejects his best friend in the whole world due to some mistakes. Due to the mistakes of rudeness, insults and other mean things friends do when they're angry. So, this is where that part begins...
"Jack, we-we can't just leave 'im 'ere!" Mush shouted.
"Leave who?" Kid Blink said, walking down towards them. The other Newsies had been up out of the cave waiting, but the wait was long a boring, so most of them came inside.
"Racetrack... Look!" Mush said, turning Race towards him. Race was as pale as a ghost. His eyes looked sunken in and his arms and legs were weak and small.
"Wh-- Jack's leaving Race here to die?"Kid Blink said. (This was a mistake obviously when) Jack suddenly turned to Blink and pushed his cowboy hat further on his head.
"Blink, how many times have I been there for you?" He asked, "When was I ever not at your side?" He slammed his finger on his own chest.
"Uh-- I don't know..." Was his reply.
"Exactly! I never leave your side. But, have you ever seen me in desperate need of some other kid's help? NO! I deal with pain, sorrow and anxiety-- like a man should! Unlike you--you-- STREET RATS, I know how to not cry and whine for my dead motha when I am sick, tired or in pain! So why don't you all shut up, leave him alone and stop slowing us down so we can save another kid's butt!?" Jack looked furious. His face had turned red from screaming. Blink's had turned red from embarrassment. Everyone stared in silence. Not a word was spoken, not a sound heard but the heavy breathing of Jack. All was silent when suddenly, Boots stood up, clenched his fists and said,
"No..." His eyebrows shifted into a mean look, "No! You are not the Jack Kelly we know! Now, these kids here, we can help Race while those--" He said this pointing at a couple of other kids, "Those can help Davey. There's enough care here to help everyone Jack! Now why don't you help yourself, and everyone, and leave!" He stood strong and tall (Even for a short boy like himself). Jack looked back and forth to everyone breathed in deep and let it out really fast.
"Fine, is that how all of you feel?" Everyone was silent. "Fine..." Jack stomped passed Boots and shoved him. Walking passed Race he purposely kicked dust in his eyes. Jack climbed to the top of the cave and out to the top, where the moon shone down on the sandy ground. Jack didn't even stop or say goodbye, he just kept walking and walking 'til it was too late to stay up. He came to a stable with a bag of hay lying perfectly on the hard dusty ground. Fixing himself, Jack lay down on the soft (but prickly) bag. Almost immediately he drifted off to sleep. His dream was not a dream but a memory. A tremendous memory from his wonderful childhood. Here is what he drempt:
Racetrack was four years old and Jack seven. Race had been sent to the Lodging house the other day and was very nervous and lonely. One day, when the boys from the Lodging House were playing by the statue, Jack saw Racetrack suspiciously walking back to the rest of them. When Race got in ear shot, Jack called to him.
"Hey, boy! Where were you? Kloppmann searched the town for you!"
"He wouldn't find me dere!" Race said smiling. "I was down at the Tracks watching the horses. Number seven won." Jack looked at him oddly.
"How do you get there?" He asked picking up his wooden stick, which he often pretended was a horse, and leaning on it.
"I hitched a ride. Y'know, carriages!" Race answered eyeing Jack's cowboy hat. "Wh- Why do you wear that hat?" He asked.
"Oh, this? Its a cowboy's hat." He answered, pulling it on his head.
"Oh..." A long silence drifted over the two as they stood there staring at the cobblestone road. Suddenly, both looking at eachother, both smiling the two young silly boys began to smirk, snicker, giggle, chuckle and then burst out laughing. From then on Jack called to Race everytime he came back from the tracks. And then one day, not saying "Hey boy" He said,
"Hey, Racetrack!" Smiling, the boys knew this would be the new name of the new best friend. That same day, a few seconds later, the reply came out of Race as,
"Hey, Cowboy, whaddya hear, whaddya say!" That is where the boys began their nicknames. The two best friends stuck side by side always. In hardship, tears and laughter, they were always with eachother.
Suddenly, a hard tip of a shoe smashed Jack's face. He immediately woke up and sprung to his feet.
"You here for a job, kid?" Said a man dressed in leather and boots with a heavy southern accent.
"Uh, no... Sorry... " Jack said smiling. The man's wife came out, old and frail holding a musket and shouted,
"Then leave ya little rascal!"