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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 6, 2008 18:15:17 GMT -5
Racetrack bolted through Central Park, dodging adults in his path who looked indignantly after him. He didn't bother with any kind of apology to them, but he would glance over his shoulder every so often to see if he was still being persued. No, it looked as if the men chasing him had either lost him or gave up. Race slowed his pace a bit and caught his breath. They had been thugs, and it looked as if they were looking for entertainment (by that, it was meant they wanted to beat someone to a pulp) and Race had been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
He would have stayed and fought, he told himself, if he hadn't been alone and outnumbered. Part of being a good fighter, he tried to reason, was knowing when to stay and when to get out of there as fast as possible. And when faced with three grown men with clubs...Race had opted for the latter.
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts (and, he wouldn't admit, slightly paranoid) that he rammed straight into the side of a bench. The seat hit him in the legs, and he yelled out quickly before realizing it was only a block of wood. He cursed and stepped away, his mouth pressed into a thin line, looking around for anyone who had seen.
He only saw one person: a girl sitting on a bench. By the looks of her she was a newsie, but he'd never seen her before. He glared at her and sneered, "What're you lookin' at?"
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 6, 2008 18:32:59 GMT -5
"Oh, I's just lookin' at the dance you'se was doin'. It was pretty intrestin',"
He sneered at her. Who did she think she was? "You got some mouth on ya..." he said. The pain in his legs had subsided, and he strode over in front of the girl. "Who do ya think you are, anyhow?" He never meant to be unpleasant, but on top of his embarrassing injury, he'd just been laughed at by a stranger, and he wasn't about to let that go over easy, or else people might think he was soft.
Racetrack surveyed her again. He definitely hadn't seen her before, so she couldn't be a Manhattan girl. "You're outta your turf," he said after a moment. "You better watch it..." It was a personal thing with him to worry about what turf he was on, and he knew not many newsies were too receptive to outsiders.
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 6, 2008 19:22:15 GMT -5
"Starsage. And you are?"
He examined her hand before ignoring it and looking back up at her. "They call me Racetrack. But I can't see how that matters to you, considerin' you won't be callin' me much of anything." He wouldn't let his guard down, mostly because he still had no idea who Starsage was, and whether she could be counted as any friend of his.
"I's just lookin' for Jack. Not trying to start a war or anythin'"
"Who's startin' a war? Nobody's startin' a war..." he exclaimed. "And whaddya lookin' for Jack for, anyways?" If it was a good reason, he would help her find him. If not, he simply wouldn't.
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 6, 2008 19:46:24 GMT -5
"I's lookin' for Jack cause I need to talk to 'im. I'm the new leader of da Bronx."
Racetrack looked at her. He had always had a kind of mandatory respect for the leaders, because he figured they were the leaders for a good reason. But he wondered about this girl. He had seen girl leaders who were plenty tough...Houdini and Jinks for instance. He really wasn't sure about Starsage. Would she turn out to be a leader who even deserved his respect?
"You gotta see him, then?" Race asked, taking off his cap and fiddling with it in one hand. "I'll take ya if you'se need it. But I gotta be convinced it's for a reason, first." He partially was giving her a hard time, partially was telling the truth (for he wouldn't bother his friend with something unimportant) and partially wanted to see what the girl would do. If she didn't command respect, he didn't deserve his.
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 6, 2008 22:02:33 GMT -5
"Listen, just don't give me any crap. If you dont wanna take me to 'im fine, I'll find 'im myself."
"No one's giving you crap," Racetrack raised his hands innocently, placing his cap back on his head. "I'm just wonderin' as t'what's goin' on. It's like I don't know nothin' no more around the boroughs." He was more or less making things up as he went along, but an explination was an explination. "I'll tell ya where to find him, sure. Gee, goily, no need to get in a bunch..."
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 7, 2008 8:16:22 GMT -5
"I think I will just catch 'im later. Thanks, though."
Well wasn't that for a whole lot of nothing. Race nodded obligingly. "If you say so." He could half understand why Starsage wanted to meet Jack just to talk, but half he wondered why she bothered. She was trying to find her way around, for sure. Still...he couldn't quite understand...
Deciding to drop it, he listened to what she had to say. "Listen, I think we got off to a bad start. So, why don't we try this again. My names Starsage and you are?"
She held out her hand again. Racetrack couldn't agree more...the entire first half of their conversation was anything but pleasant. He grinned at her and took her hand in a shake. "Racetrack Higgins."
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 7, 2008 16:56:24 GMT -5
"Where did you get that name?"
No one had really asked him that before, but it was no big secret. "The kids at the lodging house gave it to me soon as I got there. I go to the Sheepshead Bay Races all the time. Almost all of my time. Higgins, that name I was born with," he gave her a wry grin.
He was always one for returning questions. "And, ah...Starsage, was it? That's unusual. Ya mind sharin'?" He sat heavily on the bench. "I got time if you got it..."
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 10, 2008 19:33:02 GMT -5
"You know, I have never been to the races."
"Good," Race said, only half-joking. "All the fellas there are scum, scabs and con men. 'Cept me, of course." He wasn't quite lying. The seedy underbelly of the racetrack was full of bookies who took bribes, number crunchers who took "liberties" with the odds, and crooks in general. He sometimes wondered why he liked it there so much.
"Then after they died, I came here to pursue the stage."
He nodded. "Ain't that a story I heard before. It seems to be a thing with all us newsies. See I never even knew my real folks. I could be passin' my old man on the street every day and not know it." Most of the newsies who lived in the lodging house obviously had nowhere else to go. Race knew several newsies who had homes and families, but their numbers were few.
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 10, 2008 20:26:12 GMT -5
"So, how didja end up here?"
"Born and raised Manhattan," Race said with some pride. "My grandma took me in. Lived with her 'till I was...gee, 'bout twelve or thirteen. Then she died and I was on my own for a while, 'fore I found the lodgin' house." He pulled a new cigar out of his pocket and struck a match. "The rest is history..."
Lighting his cigar, he looked at Starsage. "What's new in the Bronx?" Race often tried to talk to the newsies from other boroughs as often as he could. He was one who liked to know what was going on most of the time, which was often a cause for frustration, because it was rare that newsies from other boroughs ventured into Manhattan, and rare that Racetrack ventured out.
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 10, 2008 20:55:39 GMT -5
"I'm sorry to hear that."
He shrugged it off between drags on his cigar. "It's no big deal...happened a while ago..." He never liked to dwell on things that made him look bad, even if they were talking about his grandmother. If you were a newsie, your image was one of the only things you had. Image, dignity, and papes.
"Didja hear about Cole comin' back?"
It was a needless question. With so many kids coming and going through Manhattan, word got around quickly. After all, they were newsies. Their lives consisted of getting word around, and quickly. "Course I have. The whole lodging house is talkin'. What do you make of it?"
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 10, 2008 21:35:16 GMT -5
"I don't know. I really don't know the whole story, but I do know if it came down to it I would probally back up Note."
Race shook his head. "I dunno, kiddo. I'm thinkin' Note just came in, you know? Cole's got a right to it, I think. And from what I've heard about Note, Cole's better cut out to be a leader anyway." He had heard that Note was a little too soft compared to Cole. To Race, being a leader meaned being the toughest. Leaders were leaders for a reason. Some reason, any at all. He didn't know Note's reason, but knew Cole was plenty tough.
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 12, 2008 10:57:37 GMT -5
"I think they both could do it, but we will see."
Race looked at her. "Bein' a leader means doin' things and not havin' to say sorry for nothin'. And I'm thinkin' Note says sorry a little too much, if you know what I mean." There was still a respect for leaders that Racetrack always upheld, so he would never describe Note as weak. But compared to Cole, that was what Note was. And although Race was a Manhattan boy, he thought he would rather see a strong boy lead Harlem than a weak one.
Plus, there was always the chance that Cole would get violent over it. And furthermore, really, if Cole decided to fight, he didn't know what kind of chance Note would stand...
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Post by Anthony Higgins on Feb 13, 2008 7:55:00 GMT -5
"I don't know. I agree with ya in some aspects...but then again, ya can't me to mean. No one's gonna wanna talk to ya."
Race shook his head. "You don't gotta be mean. You just gotta be tough. There's a difference. If people think you're mean, they wouldn't listen to you cause you'd just be a pain in the neck. But if you're tough, that's how you get respect. Note's anything but mean, but he ain't tough. And Cole might me a little meaner, but he's also a lot tougher. It's a sucker bet." He knew that privately it wouldn't matter to him who was the leader of Harlem. Either boy would be just fine with him. Because Race lived in Manhattan, and Harlem felt miles away.
"I really haven't decided yet. I know I need to make a choice, and soon. The poker game is comin' up and I think they expect us to choose our sides."
Race had almost forgotten about the poker game. He would definetly be going, but he wouldn't definetly take sides. Something like this would without a doubt turn into Cole's suppoerters verses Note's supporters, and something like that could get real ugly real fast. You might have kids soaking kids from their own borough, and where would that lead them? "I ain't sidin' with nobody till I can see the both of 'em and see what people do. Jack tells us he still dunno what he's doin', but I hear KittyKat and Spot are with Cole."
"Ya wanna get somthin' to eat?"
"Now that," Race said, snuffing his cigar and pocketing the butt for later, "is one of the best things you'se said all day." He dug into his pocket and came up with two pennies. He looked hopefully at Starsage. "Can I owe ya two pence?"
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