The Downside Of Selling ((Open))

[Anthony Higgins]

As he squinted up at the headlines on the World's chalkboard, Racetrack grimaced and shook his head. With everything that was going on in New York these days, you would think that those ace reporters would be privy to some of it, and actually put in for a headline that was worthwhile to try and hawk. But for some reason, the rest of New York seemed oblivious to the lives of the newsboys that crowded their streets. Selective blindness, he thought bitterly. It was a term he had picked up somewhere he couldn't remember, about only seeing what you wanted to see. Or something like that. What the hell did he care?

But there wasn't much time to waste. No matter what was going on in their little corner of the world, the papers were the only way that Racetrack could earn his keep, and he had to keep selling. Racetrack scratched his head as he tried to work out the arithmetic that embodied his newspapers and his pennies, mumbling numbers to himself as he went. Twenty-five cents for his papers. Twelve cents for the lodging house rent and dinner. That put him at ("Five and two, two and one...three and...seven.") thirty-seven cents per day he had to spend. Thirty-seven from fifty ("Carry the five, ten and seven, four and three...ah, crap...oh yeah, one and three.") was thirteen. Ten for his bet at the Sheepshead once he finished selling, and three to put away just in case something went awry and he found himself in need of fast money...or if someone back at the lodging house was in the mood for a game of five cards.

It took work to be a newsboy, Racetrack thought as he stood in line for his papers. People thought the kids who lived on the streets and sold papers for a living had it easy. He had talked to these two rich kids just the other day who lamented that living on his own with no one to tell him what to do, he must have had it easy. Racetrack chewed them out after that, ranting that they didn't know what it was like to have to work for what you earned and if you came up even a penny short you were sunk for the rest of the week. Needless to say, the rich boys didn't come back.

When Race got his papers, he held them under his arm and checked his pocket watch. He would have to shake a leg if he wanted to get his selling done. With all the other newsies in New York, and the lack of customers lately, who knew what would happen with the papers he had to sell? Racetrack was a seasoned-enough newsboy to know that the quicker you got out there and started selling, the more likely it was that you would find more customers. So, he didn't waste any time.

He stood just outside the distribution center and started hawking a fake headline at the top of his voice. "Tenement fire cuts through block! Hundreds homeless!" People loved hearing about other people's suffering, for some reason. Human nature, Race guessed. So they would feel better about themselves. He would try to see how that headline fared before trying to make up another one...

[Jinks]

Jinks walked into Manhattan, she knew she did the wrong thing. Why didn't she listen to the voice inside her head!? There was no turning back now. She has to live on what she decided and she will she has to face on what she brought on her. Jack's most likely never going to speak to her again along with the rest of Manhattan. She blames her mother for this. If her mom didn't die then her father wouldn't have killed someone and gone to jail. Then Francis and she wouldn't be like this, that's what she thought. If she didn't die she might have been friends with her brother.

Although she loves being a newsie, being a girl going threw a bunch of new things is a lot harder than being a newsie. She needed a mom or an older sister to talk to these things about; both of which she doesn't have. Sure she could talk to Sarah if they liked each other, or go to Medda but she'd rather not talk to a singer about all these things. She was alone on all these things; she had to stay with Mike though. She kept telling herself that but each time she keeps returning to Manhattan, her feet keeps bringing her this way. She ended up at the distribution center she looked in and saw her friends, or ex-friends, buying their papers. She turned away from them, they would, probably, soak her for being there.

She saw Racetrack come out of the gate and the thought of her whistle came right to her, she never got it back. She glared at the back of his head. "Meany," she said to herself and fallowed him. She really wanted her whistle back it was the first time she ever used it to wake them up, other than Kloppman used it a couple of times, and she had it token away. It was completely unfair.

"Tenement fire cuts through block! Hundreds homeless!"

That would actually sell really well everyone loved when people suffer as long as it wasn't them. She smirked at Racetrack, "Really well that sounds like the best story that has to be in there." said Jinks and walked up to him.

[Anthony Higgins]

"Really well that sounds like the best story that has to be in there."

At the sound of a voice, Racetrack stopped yelling and turned in the direction it came from. When he saw Jinks approaching him, he scowled slightly. Jinks hadn't exactly been on his good side lately. He still hadn't forgotten the early-morning wake up for no good reason, and he had yet to give her back her whistle. At the rate she was going, she wasn't getting it back anytime soon. To Racetrack, Jinks had been nothing short of a pain in the neck lately. Who did she think she was, getting into all this stuff at fourteen years old? And a girl at that! Racetrack was under the firm belief that only a select few girls had what it took to be newsies, and he had only met about four of them. Girls should be doing girl things, like learning how to keep house, or at least get some kind of job. Not crowding the streets and taking customers away from all the hard-working boys.

As the thoughts ran through Race's head, he realized that he was slightly aggravated about everything. With good reason! You couldn't blame him not to be agitated about everything that was going on. And having to sell papers on top of that? He was on edge. And now, here came this kid, slamming the headline he was hawking to try and sell his papers. How else was he going to get them all sold? Racetrack said icily, "Shut up, Jinks, I'm tryin' to sell here. I don't get your way all the time..." He was implying, of course, that Jinks got in his way a lot of the time. Not necessarily true, but she had caught Race in a foul mood.

[Jinks]

"Shut up, Jinks, I'm tryin' to sell here. I don't get your way all the time..."

Jinks rolled her eyes, "Yea and I've been looking for my whistle and I can't find it anywhere." she said with her arms crossed. It was true she's been looking threw Racetrack's stuff for her whistle and couldn't find it. She looked each day but no luck she found a couple of cigars and kept them though. No she wasn't going to use them for she she was just going to keep them until Race gives her back her whistle.

"So did ya lose at the track again or did ya get up on the wrong side of the bed?" she asked, she was actually caring. She and Racetrack may not always get along but she does care about him, even when he's in a bad mood. Sure her jokes may go a little far but he should know she's just joking they've known each other for a couple of years and should know each others tricks.

[Anthony Higgins]

"Yea and I've been looking for my whistle and I can't find it anywhere."

Racetrack rolled his eyes. Jinks acted like she didn't know he had her whistle. Worse, he knew that she knew, so what was she playing dumb for? He sneered, "You know I have it. An' you ain't gettin' it back. That's the last time you wake us up at two in the morning..." He was about to mention how stupid it was of her to have an attatchment to a dumb whistle, of all things, but he decided not to say anything. He didn't really feel like talking, and he still had to sell his papers. He had half a mind to walk away and leave her so he could actually sell...

"So did ya lose at the track again or did ya get up on the wrong side of the bed?"

If I don't sell these papes, Race thought bitterly, I won't be able to do either. If he didn't sell, he wouldn't be able to pay the lodging house rent or make his bet at the races. "Actually," he said bitterly, "I got this real pain in my neck. I think she calls herself Jinks..." He shook his head, and sneered at her, "Why don't you go on your merry way, eh? Don't you got papes to sell, too?" Newsies who sat around all day without selling papers weren't newsies. They were scabbers. And Jinks better not tell him she had already sold all her papers...some boys were still in line to get theirs, it was so early in the day...

[Jinks]

"You know I have it. An' you ain't gettin' it back. That's the last time you wake us up at two in the morning..."

Jinks glared at him, "It was only one time that I did it." she said, "And about three times that Kloppman woke ya guys up." she muttered looking away from Racetrack. If he knew that then he could get angrier than what he was already. She didn't know why he was upset maybe it was Mike or just the whole 2 am thing but she didn't want to get him angrier

"I got this real pain in my neck. I think she calls herself Jinks...Why don't you go on your merry way, eh? Don't you got papes to sell, too?"

"Ya don't have to be mean about it. Ya could have asked me to leave." said Jinks keeping her glare at him. She was trying to be a good friend something she hasn't been to Dreamer; just the thought of Dreamer made her feel really bad. "Yea I do have papers to sell," said Jinks showing the papers behind her back, "I am just going this way to get something’s I forgot to pack when I left." she said; of course she lied. She didn't even know why she was in Manhattan she was suppose to be in Midtown getting use to the place, but instead she was in Manhattan talking to Racetrack who was getting on her last nerve.

[Anthony Higgins]

"It was only one time that I did it. And about three times that Kloppman woke ya guys up."

Racetrack looked at her harshly. She couldn't compare what she'd dome to what Kloppman did every morning. "Are you kiddin' me?" he exclaimed. "Kloppamn gets us up at six to sell the morning edition. He's never blown a goddamn pennywhistle, waking up the whole damn lodging house for no good reason!" He knew he was getting irritated, and he took his cigar from his breast pocket lit it, just to busy his hands. "You know I'm gettin' damn tired of you and Dreamer. Your damn sob stories all the time...pisses me off." He didn't know about any of the other fellas, but he was getting sick of the two of them having to broadcast whenever anything happened to them.

"Ya don't have to be mean about it. Ya could have asked me to leave."

"Good," he snapped. "Shove off, fink." He didn't care whether she stayed or went. "I got sellin' to do, all right?" But he knew that Jinks had a bad habit of thinking she was tougher than she was. Race had the feeling that he was going to blow his top, and take a swing at her. Oh, well, he thought bitterly. If she wasn't Jack's sister he'd have hit her a long time ago. But Jack was protective of her, and he didn't know how his friend would react. Still, he was pretty sure that at this point, Jack would consider taking a swing at her too. Or he could be wrong...

"Yea I do have papers to sell, I am just going this way to get something’s I forgot to pack when I left."

He scoffed. What a story! "Some tall tale. You're bitin' off more than you can chew, here." He quickly sold a paper to a banker and pocketed the penny. Turning to Jinks again, he said, "Now beat it. Or else I'll thump ya, got that? Your funeral, doll..."

[Jinks]

"Kloppamn gets us up at six to sell the morning edition. He's never blown a goddamn pennywhistle, waking up the whole damn lodging house for no good reason!"

"I didn't know what happened to Dreamer and when she told me to get ya guys I thought it was something horrible I thought she almost got killed. So I'm sorry for worrying about my best friend. Ya would probably do the same thing for Chance, Blink, or Mush if they asked ya to wake everyone up." she explained. Dreamer was her best friend and she didn't want anything bad to happen to her so that night she was extremely worried about her. If the only way to find out what happened was to get they other newsies down stairs so be it.

"You know I'm gettin' damn tired of you and Dreamer. Your damn sob stories all the time...pisses me off."

"Leave Dreams out of this." she said quickly. "And ya and the rest of the boys don' have to worry about us anymore. Dreamer is sleeping on the roof because she's too afraid that Jack might kick her out next time he sees her and she's afraid to wake ya guys up with her nightmares she's getting." she explained. "And me I'm stayin at Midtown with friends. Ya know people who actually like me and cares about me." she added.

"Shove off, fink. I got sellin' to do, all right?"

"Fine what ever," she said, she was a little no wait extremely mad. That it seemed like Race was always attacking her. "I'm sorry for using the whistle for ya guys to wake up I really am." she said.

"Some tall tale. You're bitin' off more than you can chew, here. Now beat it. Or else I'll thump ya, got that? Your funeral, doll..."

"Tall tale?" she asked "what tall tale?" she asked again, "Ya don't believe that I moved out do ya?" she continued to asked questions as she turned around. "So no one noticed that I left? That my bunks empty and my stuff is gone? Jack doesn't have our mother's necklace?" she added to some questions. "Did ya just call me doll?" she decided to just stay quiet she knew she shouldn't try to be friends with Racetrack it just ends up into a stupid fight. "Listen can I just have my whistle back? After that I'll stay in Midtown with Mike and the rest." she said.