Murder! (4M)

[Anthony Higgins]

At twilight in New York City, the square that buzzed with activity, bodies and voices during the day was very nearly deserted. Two young street boys sat on the base of the statue, looking like they were arguing about something. A gentleman and his wife crossed the square, heading toward the apartments above the storefronts, no doubt to retire for the night. Now, too, a small group of schoolboys cut across, running because they knew their mothers wanted them home before dark. A shadowed figure hurried out of an alleyway north, toward Midtown, carrying something in its hand. Other than the gentle motions of the evening homecoming, all was quiet.

Now, coming from the direction of Duane Street, a group of four newsboys came across the square. Racetrack Higgins was among them, holding in his hand a pair of dice. In his pocket was spare money he'd saved up for a gambling occasion, which is what brought him and his three friends to the square at this time of night. The base of the statue was ideal for playing craps against, and if they crowded around the bulls wouldn't pay any attention to what they were doing. Usually they did this during the day (it wouldn't be long before they'd be hard-pressed to see the number of dots on the dice) but Racetrack figured it would be better for them to play here instead of the lodging house.

See, Jack wasn't in the best mood lately. Who could blame him? With everything that was going on, it was no wonder he was on edge. He still suspected Chance was somehow working for Mike, even though Racetrack had insisted on the contrary several times. Jack was also wondering why he hadn't seen Sarah in a very long time, and "worried" after her, if you caught the drift. Race himself was pretty sure that Sarah was just as "worried" about Jack. Well, whatever the reason, Racetrack figured that instead of playing craps in the lodging house, they'd do Jack a favor and play somewhere else.

He reached the base of the statue and shooed away the street kids, who were used to being shooed anyway. As they hurried off, Race knelt at the base of the statue and looked up at his friends. "Ready for this, boys?" he grinned mischievously. "I tell ya, I'll try not to brag too much when I clean you'se all out..." He gave the dice an experimental rattle in his hand. When he bought them--must have been nine years ago at least!--they were brand new, but now they were chipped in places, the white paint peeled to show wood, the sharp corners were rounded, and the black dots had faded to an odd gray-ish color in places. They'd seen it all, he thought bemusedly, and then again, so have I...

(I'll PM all of you with my plan.)

[Mush]

Mush followed Race, Blink, and Chance into the square. They all decided to go there to play a game, and just stay out of Jack's path. He didn't need them cluttering up the lodging house with their games, it seemed like Jack had more important things to think about then the silly things the boys did. Well, of course he did. A lot has changed in the past few weeks..for all of them.

Mike was taking action faster than Mush had thought he would. He wasn't joking when he said he was back with a vengeance. It was rumored that Chance was working for Mike. Mush didn't know what to believe, everyone was switching sides, everyone was straddling the fence. Chance was one of his best friends, but Mike was manipulative. Mike could be lying, or Chance could be lying. Mush just kept his opinions to himself, and agreed with what the others said. If they believed Chance was innocent, Mush should too..right?

"Ready for this, boys? I tell ya, I'll try not to brag too much when I clean you'se all out..."

"Sure, Race." Mush said. "I've been practicing, this time I might be givin' you a run for your money." He beamed, and then realized what he said could be taken for a cheesy pun. "No pun intended..." He mumbled. Mush wasn't the best at gambling games, of course that was Racetrack's forte. But he needed to learn how to get better, it seemed like everyone was a gambler nowadays...

((Sorry, its short. ))

[Kid Blink]

Kid Blink sauntered into the square, heading for the statue of Horace Greeley by which Racetrack was standing. He glanced over his shoulder, checking to make sure that Chance and Mush were with him. They were--Chance and Mush were but a few feet behind him. Blink paused to take off his cap, brushing his blond hair out of his good eye. He shook his head and started forward again, shoving the hat back on his head. He reached the statue of Horace Greeley and crouched down by the base.

"Ready for this, boys?... I tell ya, I'll try not to brag too much when I clean you'se all out..."
"Sure, Race... I've been practicing, this time I might be givin' you a run for your money."

Blink looked up at Mush with a frown. He had been practicing? Blink didn't want to lose all his money tonight. Race was good enough alone to practically win it out of his pocket. "Hey, tell me next time Mush! I can't afford t'lose much tonight." Selling hadn't been going that well for him lately. For whatever reason, people just weren't buying. Maybe it was because he had been to preoccupied with conflict with Mike to put much effort into his selling. It had seemed to Kid Blink that, as of late, time was speeding up, dragging them, the newsies and anyone with whom they were close or had ties to, closer and closer to some undefinable point which would define this struggle. Blink shook his head to clear his thoughts and looked back at Race and the dice he held. "Go ahead an' roll Race. We don't gots all night."

"No pun intended..."
Blink glanced up at Mush. "What pun?" He hadn't noticed any pun, intentional or otherwise, in what he had said. Blink thought for a moment. What had he said again? "Sure, Race... I've been practicing, this time I might be givin' you a run for your money..."
What was the pun? "Sure, Race..." Then it clicked. Race. Run. Money. Yep, no pun intended. "Ohh... I got it."

[Chance]

Why did he agree to this? He was not in the mood. First, he gets in a fight with his brother, not unusual. But this fight was so different then what they usually have. Chance hadn't talked to Shadow in a week and a half. He had been counting. And he had talked to Chloe in a week and 3 days. He wasn't sure why that was, but he knew it had something to do with Shadow. Chloe and Shadow had obviously hit it off, and Chance wouldn't be surprised if they liked each other. Chance hated to admit it, but he was jealous. He knew he and Chloe were boyfriend and girlfriend and he knew that they would stay like that, but he couldn't help but feel a bit of jealousy. Chance had been so used to being the favorite among the two. He always got the friends, the girls, and even his parents liked him more. And now that Shadow was beginning to come out of his shell, Chance was wishing he hadn't. He was so used to being in the spotlight, now Shadow was taking it away.

Chance wanted to slap himself. Why did he have to be so selfish? His brother was finally finding himself! Why couldn't Chance, his twin brother, be happy for him? Why was this so hard? Was was jealously even an emotion? It is such a stupid emotion! Why couldn't it be a good emotion, like happy or love?

Chloe.

Chance groaned, attracting attention from the other three. He had almost forgotten about them... He faked a trip and made it look like he had stubbed his toe. Smiling sheepishly at them, Chance grumbled. Hopefully they wouldn't ask any questions.

But they had to know something was up. He'd said hardly anything that night. That was definitely unlike him. And he loved gambling, just because it was a stupid thing to do and Chance loved stupid things, but tonight he had hardly given the dice a second glance.

Stupid thoughts! Stupid, stupid, stupid thoughts! Why do we have thoughts, Chance wondered. Because that would be weird if we didn't have them, he answered himself. But it is weird with them! he argued back. But without them everything would be silent, he answered. Yeah... and that would be creepy, he continued.

You know what else is creepy? Myself talking to myself.... Creep.

Chance seriously wanted to smack himself. His brother was right, he could never take anything seriously. Chance continued to ponder this as he ran straight into a light pole. Of course, Chance had a hard time thinking and walking at the same time. He groaned as he fell over. Ow... that hurt. Chance stayed on the ground, wanting to die.


(Chance is such a spork....)

[Anthony Higgins]

"Sure, Race. I've been practicing, this time I might be givin' you a run for your money. No pun intended..."

Race scoffed. "Gimme a break. You couldn't roll your way outta a paper bag..." He couldn't say anything for sure about Mush's gambling skills. When Race was at the lodging house he usually played craps with Snoddy and Kid Blink while this kid called Zippy watched from the stairs, but it was Snoddy's turn to clean the wash room, and he couldn't get out of that, since it was his contribution for not always being able to pay his six cents a day. Race figured it was about time the Four Musketeers got together to play. Things had been too down in the dumps lately, and he figured it was time for a pick-up.

"Hey, tell me next time Mush! I can't afford t'lose much tonight."

None of them could, Race thought, but considered not saying this aloud. This was supposed to be an outing so they could try to forget everything that was going on, but it was hard. Race knew he hadn't been selling daily, which was really putting a hole in his pocket. Gambling what little they had wasn't about to help any of them. He wondered if he should just go easy on the boys tonight, even though he had the feeling he couldn't beat them easily...

"Go ahead an' roll Race. We don't gots all night."

"We got all the time we need," Race said. He glanced at his dice again. Light was fading fast, and he had to squint at the dice to see what he was looking at: was that an eight or a nine? "I do not need glasses," he asserted immediately, knowing one of his friends would notice his squinting and comment about it. Specs and Dutchy, ironically, were the worst at pointing out how much Race squinted to read things. They just didn't want to be the only two boys with glasses, but still, Race refused to get them.

"What pun?"

Race bowed his head into his open hand. "Holy smoke, Blink..." he muttered.

"Ohh... I got it."

"Twenty minutes later..."

Race was about to continue making fun of Blink when Chance rammed into a light pole and fell over. Race couldn't contain himself. He roared with laughter, falling to both knees and doubled over. His hat fell off, and he swiped it up before his friends got any ideas. He didn't give them much slack, not since what they decided to pull for his sixteenth birthday...

When Race composed himself, and saw that Chance wasn't dead, he called, "Hey, c'mon, will ya? You're fine, ya weak stick, get over here for the come out roll..." Race played craps in a slightly creative manner. The come-out roll was when each player rolled once to gauge their luck and see how much they would plan on betting. They would roll until two of them rolled a seven, and then the first one to roll a seven again would win the pot. It was harder than it looked. Race didn't want to wait any longer and took his roll:

[dice=6][dice=6]

He squinted and counted the dots. "Nuts..."[rand=161690194927381893199231101461752516236526378692322890858959333443]

[Mush]

"Gimme a break. You couldn't roll your way outta a paper bag..."

Mush laughed, and then stopped at looked at Racetrack, "Why would I be in a paper bag?" He asked, feeling confused. He wouldn't be in a paper bag, so why would he need to roll his way out of the paper bag? Sometimes Race made no sense at all.

"Hey, tell me next time Mush! I can't afford t'lose much tonight."

He shrugged, "Neither can I, I haven't been sellin' much." He said, sadly. Things have been to hectic, too chaotic around the lodging house. He needed to protect himself, and he couldn't be out wandering the streets by himself. So that's why he wasn't selling as much as he should've.

"I do not need glasses,"

"Well then why are you looking at the dice so closely? They ain't gonna run away, Racetrack." Mush said innocently. "Dice don't got legs or nothin'." He wondered if dice could roll their way out of a paper bag, why would they be in the bag? What was with paper bags and gambling? Is it a conspiracy. Mush thought about paper bags and dice rolling.

"Twenty minutes later..."

Mush sighed, "Race, not only do you need glasses you can't tell time!" He said, exasperated. "Honestly, what are we gonna do with you?" He wondered how someone couldn't be able to tell time, that's how Mush got around, by time.

A loud thud was heard, and he whipped around to see Chance sprawled out on the ground and Race laughing. Hmm, a usual sight. He tried to contain his laughter, poor Chance. Things have been rough with him, he let out a chuckle. "Chance, you okay there?" He asked, trying not to laugh harder.

"Nuts..."

Mush whistled, "Not feelin' too confident are you now?" He said as he reached for the dice.

[dice=6][dice=6]

He beamed, "Well look at that!" He exclaimed. [rand=72520841624805232639426969078273487067202134541252544921434708314]

[Anthony Higgins]

((Yeah, I know I'm out of turn. I'm sorry, folks. But for serious...we need to have this happen. It hasn't happened yet and it's been two months, so I'm just going to take the initiative and have it be done quickly...))

"Well look at that!"

Race looked at where the dice had landed, and the dots blurred together. He squinted, and made it worse. "I don't see nothin'..." he said, irritated. Mush had obviously gotten a seven, but he didn't need to let the kid have that one so easy. Plus, at this point he couldn't tell if Mush was lying or not. It bothered him to no end that because of the dark and his bad eyes, he couldn't see the dots on the dice. What was the world coming to, depriving a gambler of seeing dice? He shook his head and reached for the dice, picking one up in each hand, holding them so he could read Mush's roll. He glanced around and saw a street light near an alleyway. "I'm gonna see what they are under the light," he said. "Too damn dark over here to see anything." He stood and walked over to the street lamp.

He stood under the glow, near the mouth of the alley, and examined the dice. Dammit...Mush had gotten a seven after all. Maybe they should move the game over here so they could actually see what was going on. More accurately, so Race could actually see what was going on. He lifted his head to call to the boys, but something caught his eye. He glanced into the alleyway, and in the light from the street lamp he could see someone lying down in the alley. Probably a drunk, he thought, but then the person didn't look old enough to be a drunk, or else didn't look bedraggled enough. A cabbie hat lay near the fellow's head. Was he a newsie? Well, newsies could get smashed, Race thought, and they would pass out anywhere if they were tired enough.

He didn't look asleep...

Puzzled, Race took one step forward, shifting his angle, and saw suddenly: a pool of blood spreading from the boy's back. The boy's eyes were open and lifeless. Race's eyes widened, and he let out a strangled scream of surprise and horror. He cried out, "Boys!" and didn't move. The sight of a dead boy lying in an alley had frozen him to the spot.

[Kid Blink]

(It's alright. And I guess I've said sorry enough, but for anyone who has been off, I guess we have all. I hope you don't mind me barging back in...)

While some people had moments where they lapsed into deep thought, Kid Blink simply became lost. And that was the state that Kid Blink was in at that moment. He was sorely lost. Blink sat against the base of the Horace Greeley statue in the Duane Street square. To his right, Racetrack held the dice in his hand and was getting ready to toss them against the base.

"Neither can I, I haven't been sellin' much."

Blink nodded. In the past few days, Blink had become more aware of the subdued atmosphere that seemed to encompass the occupants. Even the building seemed dimmer, more serious perhaps, oppressive. “That’s the word,” Blink thought and nodded absentmindedly. Blink tried his best to spend as much time out and about during the day because the mood in the lodging house was just draining. Tense. Blink looked up and around him, staring at the shadowed buildings. He wasn’t used to things being this somber.

“Y’know, this ain’t right. This…this…,” Blink, at a loss for words, lifted up his arm and swung it around, gesturing to the surrounding darkness and the distant light of the lodging house, “All this fightin’. It’s bumming me out. Before when something was bad, we could treat it we was sellin’ papes. If something’s bad, y’just make something good up and have a laugh when the people come buyin’ by the dozen….” Blink trailed off and sighed. He hoped that Mush and Race would get what he was saying. It wasn’t often that Blink had a moment of insight like that.

"We got all the time we need."

Blink nodded and thought “Yeah, Race’s right. We do got all the time we need, buts seems like we probably should get back to the lodging house sooner than later." Adjusting his shirt, he turned to face Race expectantly, to see the start of the game.

"I do not need glasses," he asserted immediately, knowing one of his friends would notice his squinting and

"What pun?"
“Holy smoke, Blink...”
Blink shot Race a glare. “Y’know, one day smoking’s gonna catch up with you and you’re gonna’ be wishin’ it was holy.”

"Twenty minutes later..."
“It ain’t been twenty yet!” Blink muttered indignantly. He wasn’t mad at Race. He just wished it didn’t take him so long to catch on to these jokes. He opened his mouth to ask Chance’s whereabouts when out of the corner of his eye he noticed a mop of red hair meet a light pole in what had to be a most painful knock. “Oh geez,” he thought, twisting his head to see Chance lying dazedly on the cobblestone street, a frown adorning his face. Blink cracked up. It was good to laugh—it was something he hadn’t done in a while. “Hey Chance? You alright over there?” he called. “

"Gimme a break. You couldn't roll your way outta a paper bag..."
"Why would I be in a paper bag?"

Blink rolled his eyes. Mush could be a real character sometimes. That said, Blink was a "character" as well. He too had fair share of senseless, eye-roll worthy moments. That’s why he and Mush were such great friends. Mush was the world’s best audience, and Blink was the sometimes senseless optimist. And they were both comical. "Mush,” he said with a grin, “that's something we'll just have t’wait for and find out."

"Twenty minutes later..."
"Race, not only do you need glasses you can't tell time!"
"Honestly, what are we gonna do with you?"

Was Mush serious? His comment was like an open invitation—it was just asking, begging, for someone to initiate a prank. “I can think of a bunch of stuff. How ‘bout we dunk him in the harbor for starters?”

"I don't see nothin'...I'm gonna see what they are under the light. Too damn dark over here to see anything."

"Well, can't argue with that," Blink thought. "It's so dark over here there could probably be a murder an' you wouldn't even realize it." He thought. "Hey Race, maybe you and Chance oughta get glasses together. He's always walking in t'stuff an' you're always, y'know, gambling...." stifling a yawn he watched as Race got to his feet and strode over to the street light.

"Boys!"

Blink looked to where Race was standing, petrified. At once, a cold tremor seemed to run through his body. Race was standing stock still, staring into the mouth of an alley. From where he sat, his view of the alley was obstructed. Blink struggled to his feet, and sprinted over to where Racetrack stood. As he came nearer, Blink recognized the horrified expression on Racetrack’s face. Blink looked from Racetrack to the alley and froze. He was scared stiff. There lay a body, and judging by the cabbie hat lying near the head, it was a newsie. Worse of all was the dark liquid seeping from beneath the body. Blink opened his mouth and snapped it shut. He let out a muffled moan. He couldn’t comprehend the sight he saw before him and the knowledge and significance it brought. Blink stumbled into the alleytoward the body, dropping to his knees and reaching hesitantly out to feel the skin. “It’s…still….a bit warm….” He shuddered. Without thinking, Blink reached out again and tilted the face of the newsie towards him so he could try to figure out who it was. “Oh geez!”