----Tinker---- "Kloppman, do we got an open bunk fer Tinkah?" Jack asked the man in charge of the Manhattan Newsboy’s Lodging house. "Ya mean Tinkah’s gettin’ her own bed? Get bored already, Tinkah ‘cause me bed’s open," Mush said, walking up behind them. "I thought I made it cleah ‘bout not sayin’ dose comments," Jack said, glaring at Mush. Mush looked confused. "Ya mean ya were actually serious? Ohh…haha dat’s great. She’s finally got ya whipped," Mush said walking away. Jack started to walk after him but Tinker put her hand on his arm. ‘Jest let it go. It ain’t like I don’t desoive it," she requested. "Actually, ya don’t desoive it. Dey don’t got no right ta talk like dat ‘bout ya," he declared. "Look, I mean it. It’s fine. Us Brooklynahs ain’t known fer gettin’ our feelin’s hoit dat easily," she told him, smiling. "Good point," he conceeded. "So, Kloppy, do we got a bunk?" "Actually, no. We’se filled. Sorry, Tinker." "Yer jokin’, right?" Jack asked. "Nope. A couple a new guys came in heah, earlier. Sorry," Kloppman told them. "Thanks fer checkin’," Tinker said before turning around. "Well, now what?" Jack asked, following her across the room. "Well, if ya wouldn’t mind, we could share yer bunk," Tinker said, not wanting to walk back to Brooklyn. "Are ya serious? I thought dat ya said dat ya wanted moah ta our relationship den bed sharin’," he told her. "Well, I didn’t say dat we was gunna have sex or nothin'. It’s jest I don’t feel like walkin’ through Brooklyn so late an’ I’se already tired. I mean if yer uncomfortable about havin’ me in yer bed…" she said, smirking. "Nah, dat’s perfectly fine wid me. Jest, ya gotta pay da price," he told her. "An’ what is dat?" she asked. "Really good head," he said, straight faced. "Jack…I thought dat…" Tinker started. "I’se jest kiddin’! Ya hafta promise ta sell wid me tomorrah an’ ya can stay wid me," he bargained. "Ya got yerself a deal Mr. Kelly," Tinker said, shaking his hand. ~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~ ----Quipster---- Quipster pushed Spot backwards as hard as she could. "I can’t do dis!" she told him. "What da hell is wrong wid you?" he asked, upset. "Ya think dat ya can jest go ‘round playin’ wid everyones feelins? I’se seen ya do it ta me boys an’ didn’t say anythin’ but no one plays wid Spot Conlans feelins!" "Spot…dat ain’t it…Bittah an’ me are friends an’ a couple hours of a little fun ain’t worth ruinin’ an entire friendship ovah," she told him. Spot raised an eybrow. "It’s a little later fer dat, ain’t it? Unless I’se mistake she jest walked in an’ heard us talkin’ ‘bout last time." "Dat don’t mean dat I got ta make da same mistake twice," Quipster said, turning around to leave. Spot grabbed her arm again and whirled her around. "Like I said, I ain’t one ta be messed wid," he told her. "Spot, jest let go," Quipster said, trying to pull her arm away. "I’ll let go when I’se good an’ ready ta," he told her glaring. "You’ll let fucking go, now!" she said, stepping on his foot then slapping him with her free arm. She then yanked her arm out of his reach. "Jest stay da hell away from me," she told him, running out of the room and away from the Brooklyn Lodging House. ~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~ ------Bitter------- "What are ya doin’ in heah?" Bitter asked, glaring at Spot. "I jest thought dat we should talk…" he said. "An’ what da hell would we talk ‘bout? How ‘bout how ya yelled at me an’ beat up Soul even when ya did da same fuckin’ thing! Is dat what ya wanna talk ‘bout?" she asked. "Look, it wasn’t like dat. Quipstah an’ I were real drunk one night an’ we didn’t know what we was doin’. An’ den…jest now…I was jest feelin’ bad ‘bout what happened between us an’ thought dat might make me feel bettah," he explained. "Shoah, Spot. Like I’se really gunna believe you," she said, letting a few tears drop. "Look, I don’t know why yer so upset ‘bout dis. Da way I see it were even," he told her. Bitter brought her head up sharply. "Don’t you get it. It ain’t ‘bout winnin’ or losin’. It’s ‘bout people’s feelins an’ you thinkin’ dat ya can jest fuck ‘round wid dem whenevah ya want!" "I can not believe dat YER tellin’ me dat I fuck wid people’s feelins! What ‘bout you cheatin’ on me an’ den leavin’ Soul?" he accused. "You cheated on me long befoah I cheated on you. An’ Soul an’ I were nevah a perment thing. I jest…well…ya hadn’t really been payin’ attention ta me very much an’ Soul was," she informed him. "Yeah, well, Quipstah an’ I were nevah a permenet thing neithah. Hell we weren’t even a two day thing," he told her. "Look, I was thinkin’ an’…I dunno…maybe ya would jest considah goin’ back ta how things were befoah? I know dat we got some problems an’ all…but I jest don’t like bein’ wid out ya." Bitter looked up, letting tears fall down her face. "Do ya mean it?" "A course I mean it," he siad. "Is dat a yes?" "No…but dis is," she said, getting up and kissing him. ------Stress------ "So…dat was…wow…" Gloves said, rolling over onto his side to face her. "Definatley some a me best work," Stress agreed, smirking. Gloves looked at her and smiled. He began tracing her face with his finger. "I really jest cant believe dis is happenin’." "So…ya are happy ‘bout me bein’ heah?" Stress asked. "A course I am! How could ya think oddahwise?" he questioned, surprised. "Well, I didn’t know aftah da whole Birdgette thing. I didn’t know if maybe ya thought dat it would jest a been easier if I had nevah come back." "I know dat da whole thing was kinda weird but don’t evah think dat I didn’t want ya heah or dat I don’t love ya," Gloves said, looking straight into her eyes. "’Cause I do." "Thanks, Gloves. I know it was stupid but I guess I jest had ta heah it from ya or somethin’," she said, smiling and snuggling into him. Gloves ran his hand through her hair, soothingly, and she was asleep in only a few moments. ~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~~ The next couple days went well for everyone. Wish and Cards were back to their normal "activities". Spot and Bitter were seemingly back to their old relationship. Tinker had stayed with Jack in Manhattan. They had began a new relationship full of "couply things". Black Rose and Patrick remained in the same room, neither uncomfortable with their rediscovered physical relationship. Tunes and Marker continued to be exhausted by "pape sellin’". Stress and Gloves were never seen away from each other, and people were soon hypothesizing when they were going to get married. Quipster proceeded in life, completely normal. She went to her job, took care of Soul (who was recovering well) and "unwound" whenever she felt the need. The next stage of their plan was soon upon them, wanting to strike while the iron was hot. ~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~ -----Entire Group------ Quipster opened the door. "Hey Wish an’ Bittah. Nice ta see ya two. Yer early," she told them, opening the door wider and allowing them to enter. "Bittah wanted ta see Soul," Wish said rolling her eyes. "Hey, I missed him a little. It ain’t me fault," Bitter said, in defense. "Yer not da one dat has ta put up wid Spot all da time. I need a little fun an’ ta be ‘round normal people." "He’s in da oddah room I think. Go on in," Quipster told her. "So, is anyone else heah?" Wish asked, once Bitter went into the other room. "Nah, but dey should be heah soon," Quipster said. "Go head an’ make yerself comfertable." "All right. Thanks," Wish said, complying. Quipster was right. Soon all the girls had congregated in her living room, full of stories to tell. Everyone filled each other in on their experiences at the various lodging houses. "So, what next?" Black Rose asked. "We gotta figuah out who is gunna attack who," Stress reminded her. "Okay, den, who is gunna attack who?" Black Rose asked. "Well, dat’s da next part a da plan dat we were talkin’ bout. Here’s what yer gunna say…," Quipster decided revealing the main points that the girls were to incorporate in their stories. "But, Tinkah, you an’ Wish an’ Bitter are gunna have ta say dat one a da oddah place attacked you. How ‘bout…I dunno…Da Broncs or somethin’." "Dat’s a good idea. ‘Cause Manhattan an’ Brooklyn will prolly naturally join tageddah," Tinker reasoned. "All right, dis is good. Let’s make shoah dat we’se got good stories," Stress said. The other girls agreed. They spent the entire night thinking over what hey were going to tell their guys to get them to be moved to a fight. ~~~~~******~~~~~ ------Tunes----- Tunes walked back into the Harlem Lodging House, slightly battered. Page found her, shocked, and asked, "What da hel happened to ya?! Wheah have ya been?!" Tunes burst into tears. "I don’t know…I don’t know!! Jest..Page can ya get Markah fer me? Please? I jest wanna see him," she pleaded. "Yeah, stay right heah. I’ll run an’ get him," Page promised, running towards Marker’s room. Only a few moments later, Marker came running over. "Who da hell did dis to ya?" he asked, rushing to her side. "I’ll tell ya everthin’. Jest…can I go lay down?" she asked, swaying a littler, looking like she was going to fall over. "A course. C’mon Page help me get her ta our room," Marker said taking one of Tunes arms and helping her up. Page complied and took the other arm. Between the two boys they managed to get her down the hall with minimal pain. They laid her down on the bed and Page walked off to find a couple bandages, water and a washcloth. "So, ya gunna tell me what happened?" Marker asked, sitting next to her. "Yeah, well…remembah how I said dat der was some fightin’ goin’ on in Brooklyn…" "Yeah…what does dat got ta do wid ya? I thought dat ya said ya jest didn’t like da fightin’," Marker said. "Well, it was somethin’ like dat. Well…see…da night befoah I came heah me an’ me friends all got in a fight wid Spot Conlan an’ some a his boys. I guess he was still mad ‘bout it ‘cause he beat us all up pretty bad when we were out last night. I ran away an’ only got it dis bad," she told him quickly, looking at him for response. "How many of ya were der?" he asked. "Der’s..uhh…six a us dat fought last night," she told him. "An’ how many boys," he asked. "I dunno der were ‘bout ten or somethin’," she said. "An’ were da oddah goils as hurt as you?" he asked. "Yeah, some a little worse I guess. Why?" "Jest tryin’ ta get da real facts. An’ why did Spot come aftah ya last night?" "Well, I don’t really know. It was kinda weird. All a us goils were out goin’ an’ headin ovah ta bar an’ suddenly dey jest jumped out an’ said dat dey weren’t gunna let us leave Brooklyn aftah dat an’ dey jest started soakin’ us. An’ so we tried ta all run," Tunes told him. "An’ da only reason dat dis happened is ‘cause his goil cheated on him an’ yer friends wid her?" he checked. "I guess so. I don’t know what happened…I jest…It’s so weird ‘cause dey were me friends befoah an’ now I jest don’t undahstand. An’ dey said dat dey’s gunna find me an’ I jest…I dunno what ta do. I gotta get outta heah," she said. She tried to sit up. "I do. I gotta get outta heah an’ dey can’t find me. I can’t let dem find me heah. I’ll jest leave New Yawk or somethin’." "C’mon, Tunes. Ya know dat I ain’t gunna let him hurt ya. Lay back down," Marker told her, trying to push her down gently. "No I can’t stay heah. Spot’ll come an’ den oddah people might get hurt!" Tunes said, struggling to say up. "Listen ta me, Tunes. Jest listen. Ya can’t leave in yer condition an’ no mattah what I wouldn’t let ya leave anyways," he said. He brushed her hair away from her face, gently. "Ain’t no one gunna take ya away from me. Not even Spot Conlan." "Dat goes double fer me," Page said from the doorway. "I don’t even know what’s goin’ on but I ain’t lettin’ ya leave heah hurt." "Spot Conlan is aftah her," Marker explained. "Damn goil ya always were gettin’ inta trouble. ‘Ah well what’s life wid out a little excitement?’" he asked, using one of her patronized phrases. "But…I can’t have you guys fightin’ me own battles," she stated. "Shoah ya can. Yer not doin’ so good alone," Page pointed out. "Now sit back an’ let us take care a ya. Ya don’t always got ta be so damn brave all da time." Marker sighed in relief that Page had taken over, since hadn’t really known what to do. "All right, all right Page. I’ll be good, I promise," Tunes said relaxing. Thank God me story worked. It woulda been so bad if dey were jest like ‘eh go head an’ leave New Yawk’. Da goils didn’t have ta be so rough on me doh. It actually kinda hurts! ~~~~********~~~~~ ------Black Rose---- Black Rose walked into the Queens Lodging House in a similar condition to Tunes. The girls had also beat her up pretty bad, but she was willing to sacrafice for the plan. Things had gone too far to let a small thing like this stop her, and it looked a lot worse than it felt. She limped, even though they hadn’t hurt her leg, to Patrick’s room and knocked on the door. "Who is it?" he called out. "Patrick…it’s me…open up…" she told him. "Hey der," he said swinging open the door. She fell forward when the door opened and Patrick caught her just before she hit the ground. Looking at her he said, "Jesus Christ what happened to ya?!" Black Rose gave him the story similar to Tunes’. (Yeah…not going to type it all out…again…) "So da oddah goils are as wigged ovah as ya?" he asked. "Yeah dey are," she told him. "Wheah did dey go?" "Uhh…I dunno wheah some a dem went. I know dat Stress went ta da Broncs, she’s good friends wid Gloves ovah der an’ some a da oddah boys an’ den Tunes went ta Harlem since she an’ Markah have been tageddah fer a little while now," she todl him. "Ya got some important friends der," Patrick commented. "Do all yer friends date newsie leadahs?" Damnit he jest had ta comment on dat…ah well it ain’t like it’s a crime ta date newsie leadahs. "Actually…now dat ya mention it, it is kinda weird," she commented with a puzzled look. "Ya all jest must have somethin’ special," Patick said, smiling. "Well, maybe I’ll have ta take a trip ta da Broncs an’ Harlem…do ya think ya would be up ta a trip tomarrah?" "No, look Patrick ya ain’t gunna do anythin’. It ain’t faih dat ya have ta fight me. I ain’t gunna waltz back inta yer life aftah two months an’ make ya deal wid all me problems," she protested. "Well, I offered, ya ain’t makin’ me an’ Spot Conlan ain’t got no right ta do dat. He’s gettin’ too powah crazy fer his own good an’ I think dat da Broncs an’ Harlem would agree wid me," he told her. "All right, if yer shoah," she gave in. "Thanks, Patrick. I don’t know if I’se told ya dis but I’se really glad dat I came back. Da only thing dat I regret is losing dose 2 months." Patrick smiled at her and slid down to lay down beside her. Black Rose scooted closer to him, as if searching for his strength. Patrick, taking this as one of her first signs of vunerability since their ‘fight’ her first day back, put his arm over her protectively and toyed with her hair. ~~~~~~~********~~~~~~ ------Stress----- Stress spotted Rum on the street and made eye contact before collapsing on the ground. He sped to her side immediatley. "What happened?" he asked, frantic. "Can ya get me ta da logdin’ house?" she gasped, as if in a lot of pain. "Shoah, shoah jest hold on Stress," he said, scooping her up in his arms and walking towards the Lodging House. At the Lodging House he shifted her so he could twist the door to Glove’s door and kicked it open. He walked in and set Stress on the bed carefully. "What’s goin’ on?!" Gloves asked, jumping up from the side of the room. Rum looked over and saw Gloves, but he wasn’t alone. Right beside him was Bridgette. "Maybe I should ask da same thing! I thought da…damnit Gloves," Rum said glaring angrily. He loved Stress like a sister and didn’t want her to be hurt. "Look dis ain’t…jest tell me what happened," Gloves demanded. Stress, "gaining consciousness", looked over and saw what was going on. "Oh my gawd! Oh my gawd! I jest…I can’t believe dat dis is happenin’…I jest…I…" she said, in complete shock. Fuck dis! What da hell do I do now…Well…no mattah what he prolly doesn’t want people hurtin’ me…an’ Rum wouldn’t neithah…It will prolly be okay. Guilt works wondahs. "Look, Stress, calm down an’ explain who did dis ta ya," Gloves commaded. "Don’t you dare tell me what ta do. I’se…I’se…I jest gotta get outta heah!" she said, sitting up and trying to stand up. She ‘fell to the ground’ gasping from the ‘pain’. Rum and Gloves both rushed to her side. Rum, glaring at Gloves, pushed him out of the way and helped her up. "C’mon Stress, I’ll take ya ta da bunk room an’ take care a ya, all right?" "Yeah…I dunno…maybe I should get outta heah," Stress said. "I can’t stay heah long anyways." "What are ya talkin’ ‘bout dat ya can’t stay heah?" Rum asked. "I jest…I got inta some trouble an’ I can’t stay heah," she told him, starting towards the door. "Stop right der," Gloves said. "Ya might not be happy wid me right now but I’se still da leadah heah an’ I damn well desoive ta know what da hell is goin’ on in me own Lodgin’ House." Rum and Stress both stopped and turned around. "What da hell do ya want me ta fuckin’ do. Tell ya everythin’? I can’t even fuckin’ trust ya alone fer one night let alone tell ya me problems. I told ya me feelins an’ look wheah dat got me," Stress told him, glaring. "Damn it Stress ya don’t even know what is goin’ on! Did ya even bothah askin’ me? Ya don’t even know if Bridgette jest stopped by ta pick somethin’ up or soemthin’!" Gloves told her, getting exasperated. "I don’t have da energy fer dis. I jest want ta fuckin’ lay down an ferget dis all a it," she said, walking back towards the door. Gloves started to follow her, to pump her for more information but Rum stopped him. "Look, Gloves, I don’t interfere dat much but I’se puttin’ me foot down. Ya were wrong, an’ ya know it. Now leave her alone," he told Gloves, standing infront of the door. "Fine, but you go talk ta her an’ figuah out what is goin’ on an’ I expect ya ta tell me," he told him. "All right, fine, whatevah," he said walking towards the door. He stopped and turned around, "I know it ain’t me place ta say dis since yer da leadah but we was friends befoah ya were leadah so I’se gunna say it anyways. I can’t believe ya did dis an’ if I didn’t know ya bettah I would say dat ya were da biggest joik in da world. An’ if I didn’t know dat ya were da leadah an’ dat ya could prolly kick me ass I would soak ya right now. Ya shouldn’t a played wid her like dat, not when ya knew dat ya were da foist person she was serious ‘bout." "Look, can we jest talk ‘bout dis latah. I can’t deal wid dis now," Gloves told him. "Yeah, shoah," Rum said walking out into the bunkroom and finding Stress on his bed. "Hey, ya okay?" he asked, sitting beside her. "Don’t I look okay?" she asked, giving him a weak smile. "Actually, ya look like shit ta tell ya da truth," he commented. "Who asked you?" she joked. "So, are ya gunna tell me what da hell happened ta ya?" he asked. "We do need ta know who did dis ta ya so dat we know who ta go soak." "Yer not gunna be so anxious ta soak dem once ya find out who dey are," she told him. "Why’s dat? It wasn’t one a da boys dat live heah was it?" he asked, worried. "No, no nothin’ like dat. It’s…well it’s Spot. Spot an’ his boys actually. Dey jumped me an’ da goils an’…well dat’s pretty much it," she told him. Then she related the entire story of that night to him. Rum gave a long, low whistle. "Dat figuahs. Ya nevah do anythin’ small do ya?" "It’s a habit dat I got," she said, smiling. "Look, I don’t expect anyone heah ta do anythin’ bout it. Dis is my problem an’ I’se gunna deal wid it meself. I can take care a meself." "Yeah, ‘cause dat worked out so well last time," he said, sarcastically. "I’d raddah face Spot an’ his boys den stay heah wid him," she said, nodding her head towards Glove’s door. "Dat hurts a lot moah den what Spot did." "Well, ya really don’t know what dey was doin’. It could be nothin’" told her. "Ya know it wasn’t, doh," she said, giving him a wry smile. "Things are always somethin’ wid him an’ goils. I jest shoulda known bettah den ta tell him me feelins aftah all dis time. Jest…I don’t know…Look maybe ya should go tell Gloves all dis I know dat yer supposed ta." Gloves smirked at her. "All right, I’ll be right back. Jest know dat yer prolly gunna have ta talk ta him ‘bout dis." "Fine, whatevah. I guess he’s got a right ta know even if he is scum." Rum returned with Gloves a few minutes later. "So yer friends are wid da leadahs a Queens an’ Harlem?" he asked, not wasting any time with small talk. "Yeah," she told him. "All right. I’se gunna invite dem ovah wid da leadahs fer tomarrah if ya think dat yer friends will be able ta walk," he told her. "Dey can," she said, shortly. "All right den. Look…Stress…I jest wanted ta say dat.." he started, awkwardly. "I’se really kinda tired. I think dat I’se gunna try ta sleep some a dis off," she said abruptly and turned away from him. "All right…" he said, giving up and walking off. ~~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~ ---------Bitter and Wish-------- Early in the morning the girls stumbled into the Brooklyn Lodging House, bruised and bleeding. They stumbled up the stairs, trying to mask their pain. They ignored the other boy’s comments of pity and offers of help. They walked into Spot’s daily morning "meeting" and almost fell over. The meeting was greatly upsetted by their arrival. Spot and Cards hurried over to their girls. Spot helped Bitter over to her bunk, despite her avid protests that she could do it alone. Cards picked Wish up and placed her on her bed without her fighting it at all. "What happened?" Spot asked Bitter. "Jest a little trouble last night. Nothin’ dat we couldn’t handle," she told him. "Oh yeah, ya handled it great," he said, sarcastically. "Wish, how ‘bout you jest tell me what happened," he asked, turning to Wish. "Some a da boys from da Broncs jumped us. I guess Stress is still mad ‘bout dat night or somethin’ an’ figuahed dey could get back at ya by attackin’ us. Dey got Tinkah, too but she went back ta Mahattan. I guess Jack could giver her da kinda comfertin’ dat she was lookin’ fer," she told him. "Dey told us dat dey were banded wid da boys in Queens an’ Harlem an’ dat dey are comin’ aftah Brooklyn ‘cause dey’re mad." "See, why couldn’t ya have jest said dat, Bittah?" Spot asked. "What would be da fun in dat?" she quipped. Spot rolled his eyes. "Well, boys we bettah get ta work. I want ta know if Harlem, da Broncs an’ Queens get tageddah. Send a couple a boys ovah der," he said to a red haired boy in the group. The boy nodded and he hurried off. Then, looking at Cards, he said, "We bettah get ovah ta Manhattan an’ figuah out what were gunna do ‘bout all dis," he said. "If dey want ta meddle in Brooklyn affairs den dey’se gunna get more den dey bargained fer." "All right," Cards said and they hurried on their way to Manhattan, after saying good bye to Wish and Bitter. Part 6 |