Ro went back out into the streets and started back for Jersey City. Unfortunately, she met a bunch of newsies, including one of the higher-ranking boys, on the way back. She sighed and rolled her eyes.
“What can I do for you boys on this fine day?” she announced, forcing a tired smile and looking around at them
“Spot don’t want ya in Brooklyn, miss,” the most polite boy informed as he approached her cautiously. That was Dove Parker.
Ro looked over at him with no emotion on her face. “Am I to assume that Spot sent the lot of you out because he’s currently hiding from the world because he has a lovely shiner?” she replied pleasantly.
The tallest boy sighed and stepped up to her. “Listen, miss. We don’t mean ta throw ya out. Ya did save Shy from the carriage. Spot doesn’t seem ta undahstand that ya helped ‘is sistah ‘n’ that ‘e really owes ya fer it. He jist don’t like ya, plain ‘n’ simple. I’m real sorry, but we do gotta ask ya ta leave ‘n’ don’t come back,” he informed her, almost sorry to tell her such news.
Ro crossed her arms over her chest tautly. “And what if I don’t leave forever? Perhaps I have business in this borough. What of that?” she replied matter-of-factly.
“If I had ma choice, I’d let ya in anytime. I mean, I can’t really make ya stay out. All I kin do’s tell ya ta git out. Odder ‘an dat, ya got free run a da place. ‘Less Spot sees ya, I don’t care what ya do heah. Spot don’t like ya much eiddah way, so I can’t protect ya from ‘im-“
“Who asked for your protection?” Ro interrupted, a significant edge to her voice.
“Lemme jist say dat Spot don’t want cha in Brooklyn, so ya gotta eiddah keep out er keep outta sight. Dat’s all I’m gonna say ‘bout it. None a us really wanna fight a goyl, but we will if we hafta,” he informed her sternly. Most of the boys nodded in agreement, but a few of them just shifted positions. They’d had their share of fights with girls, mostly Dove’s sister War who seemed to be a better fighter than several of them put together.
Ro raised an eyebrow and contained her smile. “In that case, I look forward to fighting with you. If your as good a fighter as Spot Conlon is, you’ll be a worthy adversary,” she replied, complimenting both the boy she was speaking to and Spot. She turned and almost left, but she hesitated. “What’s your name, by the way?” she wondered, genuinely curious.
“Parakeet Jameson, but ya kin call me ‘Keet,’” he answered. “What ‘bout you? None a us know yer name, not even Spot.” The others nodded.
Ro watched him carefully for a moment. “You may call me Ro,” she answered with a certain amount of trust in her voice. This Parakeet Jameson certainly seemed to engender trust in her. She didn’t know why, but she did like him. He was promising in his own way. She nodded her head reverently and headed on her way, her head high and hands clasped behind her back proudly.
Ro was gone when one of the other boys approached Keet. “Wondah why Spot hates ‘er so much. She’s kinda pretty,” the boy noted.
Keet looked over at his friend. “I’m shoah ‘e’s got a reason. We don’t gotta undahstand it, but we gotta respect it. He is da leadah, Dove,” he answered with a shrug.
Dove nodded and looked off down the street in the direction Ro had gone. She was nowhere to be found, but he looked anyway. “She’s good at disappearin’ at least. Maybe she kin come ‘n’ go wit’out bein’ seen,” he pointed out.
Keet chuckled at that. He actually hoped that she could. He was beginning to like her and actually wished her well. If anyone could give Spot Conlon a black eye and get away with it, she could, and she did. Spot may have been one of his friends, but Keet never minded Spot’s ego being stomped down a few notches.
Ro crossed back over into Jersey City after about two hours of walking. She had to keep in the shadows in Brooklyn so that Spot didn’t get suspicious of anything. The rest of the trip went by faster because she took a more direct route.
When Ro finally got back into Jersey City, Mockery and Robbie were chatting outside The Grille on Grand Street. Mockery was first to notice her arrival. He elbowed his friend and nodded toward Ro.
“Ro’s back. So what?” Robbie replied, glancing over at his friend.
Mockery shrugged. “She’s pretty, got a sense a humah even,” he pointed out with a sly smirk.
Robbie just shook his head. “Hey, Ro!” he yelled over the din of the crowd.
Ro turned her head and vaguely recognized the boy. She headed toward the both of them, trying to remember Robbie’s name and instantly knowing Mockery’s. “Mockery,” she thought for a moment, “Robbie, hi,” she finished.
“Heya, Ro,” Mockery greeted. Ro pursed her lips and kept her eyes on Robbie.
“Where’d ya go all day?” Robbie asked curiously.
“Brooklyn,” she answered plainly.
“What were ya doin’ in Brooklyn?” Mockery asked, curious to see what she had done all day and being genuinely interested.
Ro glanced over at him, turning her eyes up to his face slowly. “Business,” was all she said.
“What kind a business?” Mockery asked, wanting to know everything he could about her.
“Nothing that pertains to you in the slightest, Mockery,” Ro answered, blinking slowly.
Mockery wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He just looked over at Robbie. “Ya lookin’ fer Flicks?” Robbie asked.
“I am,” she nodded.
“She’s inside wit’ Jibbers,” he answered, nodding toward The Grille.
Ro nodded and walked inside, seeing the two girls over in the corner. She approached and interrupted them politely. “Flicker, may I speak with you for a minute?” she wondered as she glanced between the girls.
“Shoah,” Jibbers replied with a smile and stood up. She left and joined a group of her friends on the other side of the room.
“What’s up, Ro?” Flicker asked, looking up at the new friend.
Ro sat down and leaned on the table, speaking quietly to the leader. “Last night you said that you didn’t much care how I made my money. Would you mind telling me where I can find the local Mafia ring?” she whispered, being careful about her language.
Flicker was silent for a moment. “Ya bettah be mighty careful gittin’ in wit’ dere gang. Dey’s ruthless dis side a da rivah,” she warned. Ro just nodded silently. “East side a town, by da rivahfront. Ya’ll know cuz a all da goons hangin’ ‘bout. Bulls don’t see ‘em, but ya will. Ya like da shadows.”
“Thank you, Flicker. I’ll be back before lights-out,” Ro replied, standing and heading for the door.
“G’luck,” Flicker mumbled under her breath, genuinely worried about her friend.
Ro followed Flicker’s directions exactly, finding the tenement easily. There were several thugs lurking in the shadows. There were more and more thugs the closer she came to the tenement, so she narrowed down the building quickly. The door opened before she even had the chance to knock on it.
The man at the door ran his eyes over her. “Can we, uh, help ya find somethin’, miss?” he asked, smirking a little at the tight clothing she wore.
“I’d like to speak to the head of your organization,” she replied boldly, looking him right in the eye and demanding that he do the same.
The man nodded. “Dis way,” he answered, motioning for her to follow him. She followed silently, her hands clasped behind her back in a confidant and threatening manner, complimented well by the intrepid look on her face. He showed her into a well furnished but empty room and left to fetch the leader.
Ro stood and waited patiently, noticing the windows covered by heavy curtains. She turned her eyes to the desk just as she heard footsteps nearing the room. The door closed silently. “You’re cautious,” she noted, still facing away from the door.
“Yer quite observant, madam,” the man pointed out as he strode across the room. She turned her gray eyes to meet his blue, hers suddenly warm and seductive. “And very beautiful.”
She was silent for a moment, looking him over. He was equally handsome, blue eyes, light brown hair, and a smile that could melt the ice caps. He was taller than she, but only by a few inches, and was also thin but seemed to have strong muscles under his pressed, gray suit. “My name’s Ro,” she began as she offered to shake his hand.
He just shook her hand, realizing that if she had wanted to be treated like a woman, she would not have been wearing pants. “Jacob St. Remée, but most everyone just calls me Remay,” he introduced.
“Very well. Remay you shall be,” she replied, letting her hand drop back to her side, following the contour of her hips and leg.
“So, is Ro your only name, or is there more to it?” he wondered, leaning on the desk.
“There is, but you won’t be learning it,” she answered, her eyes calm and confidant.
“You’d be amazed at my ability ta find things out,” he commented.
“As would you of mine, but my name is not something I’ve come here to discuss,” she remarked, returning to the topic at hand.
Remay watched her carefully. “What did ya come here ta discuss?” he wondered, looking her over again.
“I am not here to join a brothel or anything of the sort. I am looking for a job, preferably one that would require a strictly vertical position and nothing else,” she answered.
Remay watched her for a moment, contemplating. “How are you at delivering messages?” he wondered.
“Depends on whom they’re to.”
“Scythe. Nicholas Wakeford. He runs the business in Queens. I’d go myself, but Brooklyn is in the way. We ain’t well liked by the Brooklyn chapter,” he informed her.
“Nor am I, but Brooklyn won’t dare bother me. I have quite a few allies of my own there,” she replied with an exaggerated movement of her head.
Remay grinned and moved closer to her. “Then we have an agreement. Ya’ll work fer me,” he said, raising his hand to her partially covered shoulder.
Ro pushed his hand away. “I will work for you, Jacob. I will not sleep in your bed,” she declared, regarding him with stern eyes.
The corners of Remay’s mouth turned up a little. He nodded once. “Maybe not, but we’d look real good tageddah,” he put in.
She forced a smile. “Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean that it will happen.” She paused. “But I will make you a deal,” she added.
Remay grinned a little more. “I’m listenin’,” he replied, waiting for her suggestion hungrily.
“Your boys seem to enjoy patronizing a few of my friends. If you keep them from doing that, I’ll consider a more-than-platonic relationship with you,” she offered.
Remay’s mouth seemed to water. It was an enticing offer. “And who’re yer friends?” he wanted to know.
“The newsgirls of this city,” she answered, not wavering in the slightest.
He nodded again. “It’s a deal then,” he agreed, offering his hand to her.
She shook his hand. “Very well. There’s a lamppost just outside the lodging house where I live. If you need me, mark on it with white chalk. I’ll be here as soon as I can,” she replied, turning to leave.
“Hold up.” She paused and turned back to face him. “I want ya ta deliver somethin’ in the mornin’.” She nodded and waited for him to scribble something out on a piece of paper. He stuffed it in an envelope and sealed it, scratching an address on the outside. “Take it ta this address. Ask fer Nicholas Wakeford, Scythe. I’ll send someone for you to meet in the morning. He’ll be by the lamp post,” he finished.
“If you’re giving me the address, why send someone with me?”
“Protection-“
“I work better alone.”
“So Nick knows yer workin’ fer me legitimately.”
Ro didn’t argue on that point. She understood the concept. “Very well. I’ll report back with anything tomorrow night then. Good evening,” she replied, turning and making it out the door this time.
The other man entered the room once she’d left. “What a figure, eh, Remay,” he remarked with a sly smirk.
“Keep yer hands ta yerself, Steven,” Remay ordered. Steven looked over at his leader. “An’ that goes fer everyone else. Leave the newsgirls alone.” Steven didn’t understand it, but he didn’t dare argue, so he passed the news along.
In the morning, Ro washed and dressed with the others. She followed them out to the street and noticed the handsome, well-dressed character leaning on the lamppost. She turned to Flicker. “I’ll see you back here tonight, Flicker,” she said quietly, keeping one eye on the man.
Flicker followed her gaze, recognizing the man against the lamppost. She moved closer to Ro. “What cha doin’ wit’ him?” she demanded to know.
Ro glanced around cautiously. “I found a job, running messages between Jacob St. Remée and Nicholas Wakeford. I’ve an escort today so that Scythe knows I’m working for Remay,” she explained quietly.
Flicker just nodded. “Be careful,” she warned with a worried tone.
“I can take care of myself, thank you,” Ro reassured her friend.
Flicker nodded and waved her friend on her way. “See ya fa dinnah. Bye!” she called as Ro began to move away from her.
Ro just smirked and approached the man. She said nothing to him, only watching his movements carefully.
The man shifted uncomfortably under her eyes. “You Ro?” he asked, trying to look tougher than he felt.
Ro nodded once. “And you are?” she prompted.
“Jay Quinn. I’m s’posed ta show ya ta Scythe’s in Queens,” he informed her.
Ro just nodded, and the two of them headed out on their way. They walked through Brooklyn quickly, ducking in and out of the shadows. They passed through the streets unnoticed, until they went a few blocks into Queens. They were followed for about a block before Ro stopped short. Jay nearly ran into her.
“What cha stoppin’ fer?” he exclaimed, demanding to know. He seemed slightly uneasy.
“We’re being followed,” she answered plainly.
Jay furrowed his brow and looked around. He didn’t see anyone or anything out of the ordinary. He turned to take a step and nearly ran into two people. “Mac, Birdie, uh, hey,” he mumbled nervously.
“Jay Quinn, welcome ta Queens, ‘n’ wit’ a girl no less. To what do we owe da honah?” Birdie replied with an expectant look on her face.
“Jist passin’ through,” Jay gulped. For a thug, he certainly didn’t really have the guts for the job.
“Jist passin’ thru, huh? Goin’ ta see Nick, I say,” Mac scoffed. Birdie acknowledged his words only by glancing over at him.
Ro just pursed her lips with irritation.
Birdie noticed and spoke up. “Let’s not fight, boys,” she ordered with a soft and calm voice. The two boys quieted and looked over at her with respect. She turned to Ro. “The name’s Birdie Kelley. I run da newsgirls heh’ in Queens. Who might chu be?” she asked with a friendly smile.
Ro didn’t dislike her, but she wasn’t sure yet if she liked her either. “Ro. Lovely to meet you, Birdie,” she replied, offering her hand.
Birdie smiled a little more and shook Ro’s hand. “Likewise. Sorry ‘bout da boys heh’. Mac don’t like Nick much, so ‘e don’t like people in league wit’ ‘im eidder, but he’s a good guy anyway.” She shrugged. “So, anythin’ I can do fer ya taday?” she asked.
“I only have a message to deliver, nothing more, and Jay here is an excellent escort,” Ro replied with a slight movement of her head.
Birdie raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Jay. “I’m sure ‘e is,” she mumbled, smirking a little.
Ro stopped her own smirk before it reached her lips. She was beginning to like this leader. She wasn’t annoying or egotistical like Spot, but she commanded respect from those around her nonetheless.
“Sorry ta interrupt ya social howah, ladies, but could we git back ta da topic at hand heh’,” Mac interrupted, a certain edge to his voice.
“Ease up, huh, Mac,” Birdie remarked over her shoulder.
“Boidie…” Mac warned, giving her a dangerous look.
Birdie ignored him and turned back to Ro. “Remay doesn’t pick ‘is messengers lightly. He must like ya fer some reason, ‘n’ I got me a feelin’ it ain’t cuz a yer talents, whatevah dose may be. Remay’s smawt, but ‘e don’t always think wit’ ‘is brain.” She grinned. Ro smirked slightly and looked around with one of her eyes. “We ain’t too fond a Nick heh’ in Queens, but we respect ‘im. If yer runnin’ messages between da two a dem, we ain’t gonna argue-“
“But, Boidie-“
“We ain’t gonna argue,” Birdie continued more forcefully, her teeth clentched. She calmed and went on. “But we do ask dat ya stop by when yer in town fer a visit. We always got space fer friends.”
Ro looked at Birdie oddly. “You’ve known me all of five minutes, and you already consider me a friend?” she asked, trying to understand this girl’s decision.
“Maybe, but I got a good feelin’ ‘bout chu. Yer welcome in my city anytime ya want,” Birdie added, smiling.
“Your city?” Ro inquired, the idea of territory still not in her vocabulary.
“Queens. I ain’t as arrogant as Spot Conlon ta say dat I own da streets, but it’s my place. I live ‘n’ work heh’. I don’t make ya tell me where yer gonna be every second a da day like Conlon does,” she laughed.
Ro smiled a little. “I may just take you up on that offer then,” she replied, warming up to Birdie a little more.
“Uh, we should be goin’ now, Ro. We gotta git ta Scythe’s ‘n’ back ta Joisey City before dark,” Jay almost whined. He didn’t want to be late.
“Jay’s right-“
“Fer once,” Mac interrupted.
Birdie glared at her counterpart and continued. “Ya bettah git on yer way. Tell Suzanna dat Mac ‘n’ I say hi. If Nick gives ya any trouble, jist give us a holler,” she finished.
“Sure,” Ro nodded. “Come on, Jay. Let’s go.” She turned and headed back in the direction they had been going, leaving Birdie and Mac in the middle of the street, alone.
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