The Newsies
Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Jack tried to hold back his excitement of the words on the label. It was a bit obvious that he had forgotten about Race's very own life or death moment and had gone on to his biggest dream! The address on the label said:
Fifty LBS
Shipping:
$10.00
Directly to
Santa Fe, New Mexico
Santa Fe! Jack's ol' friend. He was telling himself over and over again that his dreaming could stop and the believing will start when Les decided to finally join in on the reviving of Race.
"Alright, fellas..." He said trying to sound like the others. "Step aside!" He fell to his knees (Unlike Jerry, who slowly went down) and forcefully lifted Race's head up. Examining him as if he knew what he was doing, Les found out something the others hadn't. Race was thought to have been shot, but there was no blood or bullet wound in him. All there was was a small staple-like metal spring that was jolted inside his arm. Les, now very into his doctoring, immediately (without thinking...) jerked the metal spring out of Race's arm. To his surprise (and everyone else's) Race sprung up in amazement and confusion.
"Wh-Where am I?" He then asked, looking back and forth to each one of them. He began to button his first four buttons on his shirt (For Mush thought that a surgery on Race's chest was appropriate and had unbuttoned his shirt to begin the process) and then stood up, in amazing recovery.
"You're in a train. The smugglers were following us..." Jerry said, ignorantly. (As always, even when it was unnecessary) Quickly, at the sound of Race's voice, Jack turned around. He saw his best friend, standing as if he had never been hurt. Race had no idea how it had happened, but Jack flung himself toward Race and was hugging him. Jack's emotions were unknown, even to himself. He was happy that Race was alive. He was excited that they were headed straight for Santa Fe. But for some reason, an odd feeling...And unknown feeling had developed inside his body. He felt pain, love and pressure. He knew that it was probably wrong to keep thinking about the feeling, so immediately it disappeared from his mind.
"Uh... Hey Jack..." Race said, confused. Jack had never hugged Race so tight.
"Heya, pal!" Jack replied, his mouth muffled by the shoulder of Race. He had his face plunged into Race's shoulder and had his arms wrapped tight around his friend. I could explain more, but there is a lot to be said.
"I-I missed you... Racetrack." Jack's voice cracked a bit as he choked down his tears and rubbed his own scratched up face. After a while of Jack's 'best friend moment' Race got way too sentimental (As he always did when one felt sad) and knew he had to stop it all before he himself burst into tears.
"Okay, okay! Quit bein' sappy!" He shouted, lightly shoving Jack off him. "Gah, can't a guy wake up in peace?" He said sarcastically.
"Sorry, I--" Jack rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. He stopped himself and said, "Hey, you know where we're headed?" All eyes looked at Jack. Race shook his head.
"No...Where?" He replied, trying to hold back tears from Jack's previous choking.
"Santa Fe, ya dimwits! Look!" Jack shouted, pointing at the boxes big red print. A moment of excitement rushed over them but soon left at the sound of big boots thudding on the metal floor of the car.
"So, you think you got away, did ya?" A voice called to them. The voice was raspy and stern with a very strong English accent.
"Think again, rascals!" The kids turned to the voice to see a stubby man wearing a cowboy hat and holding a steel dagger. He twisted the dagger around in his hand and said,
"You boys remember the Smugglers 18? We're gonna make your life a --" The boys scattered. All but Jack, who stood his ground and smirked.
"You wanna try?" Was Jack's reply. The stubby man's face shifted into a horrible shape. He was angrier than anyone Jack had ever seen. The man lifted the dagger and ran at Jack. Stabbing the dagger forward, Jack dodged and laughed at the man, for his dagger was stuck deeply inside the softened rusty metal wall. The man pulled hard to try and get the dagger loose, but it was no use. Suddenly, he turned to Jack again and punched him in the gut.
"Ahhh...." Jack's groan echoed through the enclosed walls. He turned to his friends and motioned for them to leave the car and go to the next. They obeyed, diligently, and ran to the door, hopping one by one out of the car.
"Haha.... You think you got me?" Jack said to the man. He jerked his knee towards the man and hit him, making him fall to the ground, coughing hard. Jack then had the chance to climb the ladder to the top of the train's roof. So he took that chance and hopped onto the car's wall's ladder and climbed as fast as he could, reaching the roof in a jiffy. (Which means fast...) Trying to keep his balance, Jack slowly made his way to the end of the roof, for he knew the man would follow. And (Just as he had predicted) the man climbed the ladder to the roof. As soon as he got in sight of Jack, Jack lifted his fists to fight and took one deep breath. The wind from the trains speed rushed over his face and blew his hair. He took in a deep breath of fresh air and huffed it out. The man hopped toward him and aimed a punch at him. Jack, being swift, dodged the punch. This happened a few times, one side after the other, and finally Jack began fighting back. He punched to one side where the man dodged and then kicked the man's stomach making him stumble backwards. Jack felt an urging pain to grab the man and toss him to his death. He knew it would be wrong so he overcame the urge immediately. Now the man was even angrier than before. He came running to Jack with his fist in the air. He punched down and Jack grabbed his fist and turned the man's wrist.
"Don't do it, don't do it!" Jack thought to himself, trying not to toss him. Suddenly, a gush of wind blew them both. Jack flew backwards on the metal rooftop and landed with a very loud thud. He held onto the railing to keep himself from flying straight off the train. The stubby man, however, was not so lucky. He flew to the edge of the train and slowly but surely slipped right off. Jack squeezed his eyes and waited for the loud thud of the train running over the man, but it never came. Finally, Jack made his way to the edge of the train and saw the man holding on for dear life.
"Hey, you okay down dere!?" Jack called through the sounds of the thuds and the blow of the wind.
"I'm fine!" The man answered nastily.
"Hey, kid... You Francis Sullivan?" He suddenly asked. Jack slowly nodded. He wondered how the man knew his real name. You see, Jack was a refugee at the Refuge in New York. But, after an amazing escape, Jack had to change his name to Jack Kelly instead of Francis Sullivan.
"Yeah, why?"
"Well...I work for the Smugglers 18. I know your father. He works for them as well..." The man again said. Jack's nose scrunched and he grabbed the collar of the man's shirt, leaving his legs dangling over the edge of the train.
"YOU'RE LYING! My father isn't a dirty rotten criminal like you!" Jack said. Jack's roaring fire of fury built up again and rumbled inside him. Fire burst in his eyes as he waited for a reply from the man. His head began to shake with anger and he shouted,
"HE ISN'T!!" At this, without control, Jack tossed the man off (Without thinking...), sending him flying and hitting a nearby tree. Jack's fury got the best of him as he stay shaking with anger. The man had left a pin sitting by Jack. Jack picked it up and on it the number was carved into it with the words,
The Smugglers 21...
Jack tried to hold back his excitement of the words on the label. It was a bit obvious that he had forgotten about Race's very own life or death moment and had gone on to his biggest dream! The address on the label said:
Fifty LBS
Shipping:
$10.00
Directly to
Santa Fe, New Mexico
Santa Fe! Jack's ol' friend. He was telling himself over and over again that his dreaming could stop and the believing will start when Les decided to finally join in on the reviving of Race.
"Alright, fellas..." He said trying to sound like the others. "Step aside!" He fell to his knees (Unlike Jerry, who slowly went down) and forcefully lifted Race's head up. Examining him as if he knew what he was doing, Les found out something the others hadn't. Race was thought to have been shot, but there was no blood or bullet wound in him. All there was was a small staple-like metal spring that was jolted inside his arm. Les, now very into his doctoring, immediately (without thinking...) jerked the metal spring out of Race's arm. To his surprise (and everyone else's) Race sprung up in amazement and confusion.
"Wh-Where am I?" He then asked, looking back and forth to each one of them. He began to button his first four buttons on his shirt (For Mush thought that a surgery on Race's chest was appropriate and had unbuttoned his shirt to begin the process) and then stood up, in amazing recovery.
"You're in a train. The smugglers were following us..." Jerry said, ignorantly. (As always, even when it was unnecessary) Quickly, at the sound of Race's voice, Jack turned around. He saw his best friend, standing as if he had never been hurt. Race had no idea how it had happened, but Jack flung himself toward Race and was hugging him. Jack's emotions were unknown, even to himself. He was happy that Race was alive. He was excited that they were headed straight for Santa Fe. But for some reason, an odd feeling...And unknown feeling had developed inside his body. He felt pain, love and pressure. He knew that it was probably wrong to keep thinking about the feeling, so immediately it disappeared from his mind.
"Uh... Hey Jack..." Race said, confused. Jack had never hugged Race so tight.
"Heya, pal!" Jack replied, his mouth muffled by the shoulder of Race. He had his face plunged into Race's shoulder and had his arms wrapped tight around his friend. I could explain more, but there is a lot to be said.
"I-I missed you... Racetrack." Jack's voice cracked a bit as he choked down his tears and rubbed his own scratched up face. After a while of Jack's 'best friend moment' Race got way too sentimental (As he always did when one felt sad) and knew he had to stop it all before he himself burst into tears.
"Okay, okay! Quit bein' sappy!" He shouted, lightly shoving Jack off him. "Gah, can't a guy wake up in peace?" He said sarcastically.
"Sorry, I--" Jack rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. He stopped himself and said, "Hey, you know where we're headed?" All eyes looked at Jack. Race shook his head.
"No...Where?" He replied, trying to hold back tears from Jack's previous choking.
"Santa Fe, ya dimwits! Look!" Jack shouted, pointing at the boxes big red print. A moment of excitement rushed over them but soon left at the sound of big boots thudding on the metal floor of the car.
"So, you think you got away, did ya?" A voice called to them. The voice was raspy and stern with a very strong English accent.
"Think again, rascals!" The kids turned to the voice to see a stubby man wearing a cowboy hat and holding a steel dagger. He twisted the dagger around in his hand and said,
"You boys remember the Smugglers 18? We're gonna make your life a --" The boys scattered. All but Jack, who stood his ground and smirked.
"You wanna try?" Was Jack's reply. The stubby man's face shifted into a horrible shape. He was angrier than anyone Jack had ever seen. The man lifted the dagger and ran at Jack. Stabbing the dagger forward, Jack dodged and laughed at the man, for his dagger was stuck deeply inside the softened rusty metal wall. The man pulled hard to try and get the dagger loose, but it was no use. Suddenly, he turned to Jack again and punched him in the gut.
"Ahhh...." Jack's groan echoed through the enclosed walls. He turned to his friends and motioned for them to leave the car and go to the next. They obeyed, diligently, and ran to the door, hopping one by one out of the car.
"Haha.... You think you got me?" Jack said to the man. He jerked his knee towards the man and hit him, making him fall to the ground, coughing hard. Jack then had the chance to climb the ladder to the top of the train's roof. So he took that chance and hopped onto the car's wall's ladder and climbed as fast as he could, reaching the roof in a jiffy. (Which means fast...) Trying to keep his balance, Jack slowly made his way to the end of the roof, for he knew the man would follow. And (Just as he had predicted) the man climbed the ladder to the roof. As soon as he got in sight of Jack, Jack lifted his fists to fight and took one deep breath. The wind from the trains speed rushed over his face and blew his hair. He took in a deep breath of fresh air and huffed it out. The man hopped toward him and aimed a punch at him. Jack, being swift, dodged the punch. This happened a few times, one side after the other, and finally Jack began fighting back. He punched to one side where the man dodged and then kicked the man's stomach making him stumble backwards. Jack felt an urging pain to grab the man and toss him to his death. He knew it would be wrong so he overcame the urge immediately. Now the man was even angrier than before. He came running to Jack with his fist in the air. He punched down and Jack grabbed his fist and turned the man's wrist.
"Don't do it, don't do it!" Jack thought to himself, trying not to toss him. Suddenly, a gush of wind blew them both. Jack flew backwards on the metal rooftop and landed with a very loud thud. He held onto the railing to keep himself from flying straight off the train. The stubby man, however, was not so lucky. He flew to the edge of the train and slowly but surely slipped right off. Jack squeezed his eyes and waited for the loud thud of the train running over the man, but it never came. Finally, Jack made his way to the edge of the train and saw the man holding on for dear life.
"Hey, you okay down dere!?" Jack called through the sounds of the thuds and the blow of the wind.
"I'm fine!" The man answered nastily.
"Hey, kid... You Francis Sullivan?" He suddenly asked. Jack slowly nodded. He wondered how the man knew his real name. You see, Jack was a refugee at the Refuge in New York. But, after an amazing escape, Jack had to change his name to Jack Kelly instead of Francis Sullivan.
"Yeah, why?"
"Well...I work for the Smugglers 18. I know your father. He works for them as well..." The man again said. Jack's nose scrunched and he grabbed the collar of the man's shirt, leaving his legs dangling over the edge of the train.
"YOU'RE LYING! My father isn't a dirty rotten criminal like you!" Jack said. Jack's roaring fire of fury built up again and rumbled inside him. Fire burst in his eyes as he waited for a reply from the man. His head began to shake with anger and he shouted,
"HE ISN'T!!" At this, without control, Jack tossed the man off (Without thinking...), sending him flying and hitting a nearby tree. Jack's fury got the best of him as he stay shaking with anger. The man had left a pin sitting by Jack. Jack picked it up and on it the number was carved into it with the words,
The Smugglers 21...