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rustic-space-fiddle · 5 years

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In Which the Newsboys Narrowly Escape the Clutches of Death

Ships: nun

Starring: Davey, Les, Elmer, Racetrack Higgins, Spot Conlon

Warnings: uh idk yet? There’s gonna be some violence? A little gore because violence usually leads to that?? Kinda dark themes??? Death???? Wow it sounds so much worse when I say it like this okay imma stop

Note: I am so sorry for Race’s accent. I’m trying a new way of writing it. It looks atrocious but it’s kinda fun to read lol GOD LUCK BOYS

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You know those days where they start out slowly, just running through the routine, and your only plans are to work and sleep? Those sleepy weekends where you’ve been given the morning shift but when it’s over, you’re going to go home and crash on the couch with a good book and not move for at least the next eight hours?

Well, that’s how Davey, Les, and Elmer thought this day was going to be. Saturday, the Sabbath, the Day of Rest. Times were rough, and the rocky financial situation of the Jacobs family meant that Davey and Les had been granted the privilege to work till noon on the Sabbath. Generally they weren’t supposed to work at all, but a boy’s gotta do what a boy’s gotta do.

The clock struck noon, with the sun looking straight down over the trio in Central Park. Elmer had tagged along, enjoying their company and liking the idea of only working till noon. He was sprawled out in the grass, with Davey and Les perched on a bench and a tree branch, respectively.

“Les, get outta that tree,” Davey ordered absently.

“Why?” Les frowned down at him.

“It’s Saturday. No working.”

“We just spent all mornin’ selling papes,” Les countered. “And I’m not workin’, I’m playin’.”

“Sure.”

Les scoffed softly, and stayed put. Davey didn’t bother arguing.

Elmer rolled over onto his stomach. “Why don’ you guys work Satadays?”

“Long story,” Davey sighed. “Simply put, the Jews were enslaved a long time ago, so now we take a day off to remember that. It’s called the Sabbath. But as we’re a sort of enslaved right now, we kinda… bent the rules a bit.”

Elmer pondered this. “So, does God like, get mad if you woyk on Saturday?”

“Uh,” Davey furrowed his brow. “I mean, I don’t think so. I think he gets it.”

“Not according to Aunt Becky,” Les piped up. “She used to tell us that we were goin’ to Hell if she caught us doing anything that wasn’t sittin’.”

Elmer’s eyes widened. “Good gravy.”

“Aunt Becky doesn’t count, Les,” Davey said. “She’s almost a hundred years old and kinda losing it. Besides, she can afford to sit around all day. She’s probably just jealous.”

Elmer and Les both stifled snorts of laughter.

Down the street, a police cab rounded the corner. Elmer perked up, suddenly not as relaxed as he had been. Davey glanced over his shoulder but thought nothing of it.

“What if that cop was here to arrest us for some wild crime and it turned out we’d been framed, and we had to go on the run for like, ten years?” Les ventured imaginatively. “Wouldn’t that be somethin’?”

Davey gave him a strange look.

“He’s prob’ly here to arrest you for climbin’ trees on da Sabbath,” Elmer joked. Les laughed and chucked an acorn at him.

The cab came to stop at the edge of the grass, and the officer exited, carrying his billy club. Elmer tried not to stare at him as the officer walked toward them. Les crouched in the tree, silent.

The officer approached them calmly, looking bored but friendly, and maybe a little confused.

“Afternoon, boys,” he greeted them.

“Afternoon, Officer,” they replied.

“How’s your day been so far?” the officer asked.

The boys glanced at each other. “Good, sir,” Davey answered for them. “Made a little change, thanks for asking. You?”

The officer sighed. “Oh, well, it’s been alright.” He seemed to be trying very hard to get to the point, but didn’t know quite what the point was. “You boys gotta- you boys gotta come with me.”

A short beat.

“What for?” Davey asked, trying very hard not to sound suspicious.

“A call come down to the station that said three boys were seen robbin’ a store a little ways away a little while ago. They sorta described ‘em as bein’ short, curly, and tall. And that sorta seems to fit you boys so…”

“Hey now, we ain’t robbed nobody!” Elmer protested.

“I didn’t say you did,” the officer assured them. “I just said I gotta take you down to the station and talk to ya a little bit.”

“You mean like interrogation?” Les called down from his tree.

The officer looked up at him, shaking his head. “No, no, no. Nothin’ like that.”

Les muttered dubiously.

“Look, I got a job to do. Just come with me,” the officer repeated; he seemed rather uncomfortable. The two younger newsies looked at Davey to make the final call.

Davey bit his lip: go nicely and just let this officer do whatever he needed to do, or go loudly and get whacked around. On the Sabbath? Not bloody likely—Mrs. Jacobs would kill them.

“Alright,” Davey agreed.

“Huh?” Elmer whispered loudly.

“Let’s clear our names, okay? They’ll catch the real crooks faster this way. “ He knew they hadn’t done anything, and understood the officer’s plight. There was no reason to be anything but confident and cooperative. “Les, come down.”

Les wasn’t as trusting. “You sure about this?”

“Just get down here,” Davey insisted. “Let’s not make this any more difficult than it’s gotta be.”

The officer seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “Thanks. This’ll only take an hour or so.”

“Sure thing, Officer…?”

“Just call me Billy. Everyone does.”

“Sure thing, Officer Billy, sir.”

The three boys followed Billy to the cab, who opened up the back. “You gotta ride back here, sorry. There’s a fella in there right now, but he seems alright. I got him cuffed.”

Les and Elmer gave each other didn’t-we-say-it looks. Davey hesitated. How alright could a guy who needed cuffs be? “Uh, are you sure about that?”

“Oi, Dave!” a voice called from the cab.

That voice was really flippin’ familiar.

Davey frowned. “What the—“ He hurried to the cab doors as Billy moved aside. His jaw dropped a little. ”Racetrack?”

Inside the cab, Race waved at him with his cuffed hands, grinning lopsidedly. “Hiya!”

“Racetrack?” Les and Elmer echoed.

Am I really that surprised? Davey thought sarcastically.

“What’s he doing in handcuffs?” Les demanded Billy.

Billy raised his hands in self defense. “I pulled him out of a big fight down on 54th Street.”

Racetrack sat in the corner of the cab, hands cuffed in front him, sporting a split lip and a bloody nose, along with an colorful assortment of scratches and faint bruises. Aside from those very obvious injuries, he seemed just as stupidly chipper as always.

“What’re you doin’ ‘ere?” he asked them cheerily.

Davey spluttered. “Me? Us!? What the heck are you doing here?”

“Oh d’at’s a long story.”

Billy cleared his throat. “Erm, could you maybe tell ‘em on the way there? I’ve got… you know… work.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah.” Davey gestured at the other two to climb in, and they did, reluctantly.

“Good idea, big brother,” Les hissed as he climbed past. Davey smacked him and crawled in after him. Billy shut the door and a few seconds later the cab jolted forward on its way.

Davey whirled on Racetrack. “Alright, smart boy: explain.”

“Yeah, idiot,” Elmer said. “Who you fightin’?”

“Well!” Race settled down to tell what was undoubtedly a dramatic tale of daring and stupidity. “I was jus’ mindin’ my own business, as I always do, when suddenly—“

“Oh please,” Davey interrupted. “You’re never just ‘minding your own business’. Start over.”

Race sneered. “You t’ink you’re so smart, Dave. But I digress.” He continued. “I was walkin’ past a grocer and I saw da nicest lookin’ apple Mankind was eva blessed wit’. I was thinkin’ about swipin’ it but before I could, some udda guy did, pushed pas’ me, and ran off. Of course, wit’ my luck, d’at’s just when da grocer looked up, and of course he sees me, standin’ d’ere with my bag and lookin’ spooked, and of course he assumes I done somethin’. He yells at me—“ (and here Race imitated the disgruntled voice of the grocer) “—‘You boy!’ and I said, ‘Yeah, sir’, and he yells at me again, ‘You be takin’ things boy?’ And I says- I says to him, ‘No sir, but I seen some other fella did.” But I guess he didn’ hear me or somethin’ ‘cause a couple seconds later he was screamin’ his fool head off and comin’ at me wit’ a whole fish.

“A whole fish?” Les exclaimed.

“A whole fish. And d’en I ran b’cause, buddy, I ain’t stupid, and as I’m bookin’ it d’is fella flyin’ tackles me into some udda store’s display. So next t’ing I know, a grocer and a butcher are both trying to club me to death wit’ a whole fish and big ol’ pork roast.”

Les and Elmer were enthralled, gazing at Race with shining eyes. Davey looked unamused.

Race went on. “So d’ere I am, hollerin’ like a pigeon in a rat trap and scratchin’ and punchin’ and kickin’, and I’m gettin’ my butt handed t’me, when suddenly da butcher is fightin’ da grocer and beatin’ him wit’ da pork. People are yellin’ for da cops and tryin’ to pull d’ose two bozos off each udda, when da butcher pulls out a knife—“ (Les and Elmer gasped here; Davey’s eyebrows twitched) “—and slashes da other guy. Everybody went afta him d’en, tellin’ him t’calm down and for da love of God, put d’at bleedin’ knife down! Da cops finally showed up, two of ‘em, and d’ey broke up da fight. D’ey couldn’t get a straight story outta all t’ree of us, so d’ey decided to book us all for disturbing da peace and fightin’.”

“Wow!” Les breathed. “That’s awesome!”

“Pullin’ a knife on ya?” Elmer whooped. “Golly!”

“Amazing.” Davey said simply, arms crossed and altogether rather annoyed with Racetrack. “A wonderous tale.”

Race pretended not to notice this. “Da one cop took da butcher and da grocer t’da locker for a day or two, and ol’ Bobby here is takin’ me to juvie.” He prodded the wall with his elbow. “Ain’t d’at right, Bobby?”

“It’s Billy. Bobby’s my brother,” Billy reminded him sullenly.

“Oh, yeah.” Race grimaced, and shuddered. “I rememba Bobby, now.”

Davey glanced from Race to Billy through the small barred window. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Bobby is Billy’s twin brotha,” Race explained. “He’s just da opposite d’ough. He ain’t nice at all. In fact, he’s downright creepy. Stay away from Bobby.”

“What, does he kill people?” Elmer asked bluntly.

“Worse,” Billy answered before Race could respond, and said nothing more.

The four boys all looked at each other.

“Told ya,” Race whispered.

“Gee,” Les said, shooketh to the core. He thought for a moment. “But… if they’re twins, how will we tell ‘em apart?”

Race gestured to his chest with a constrained thumb. “Name tags, but d’ose only woyk wit’in spittin’ distance. It’s best you jus’ avoid both of ‘em.”

Up front, Billy looked miserable.

....

To be continued...

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Farewell notes: Yeet I hope you had fun reading Racetrack’s ungodly dialogue. Feedback is greatly appreciated. In fact, every time I get a tag or something I do a dance in my brain. Btw this story is gonna get shuckin wiLD so get ready boys

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