Hi, everyone!

This is the middle (Part 2) of the Santa Fe Dreamers' semifinals submission: Tables Turn.

If you are new to this story arc please read Mtbookworm's Tables Turn: Part I before reading. The finale, Tables Turn: Part III, is by HuntressDaughter.

Our prompt was as follows:

Santa Fe Dreamers: As a team, you will write a story about all three of you as newsies in the strike. Each of you will set up your own personality/character design as a newsie; make yourself into a newsie basically. Share it with your team however you want, and write a story about a certain part of the strike with a beginning, middle, and end, each taking one of the parts and writing it. This will make it so that when a person reads it, they will get a section of the story and then have to read the other two parts to see how it turns out. Complicated but fun. You must also choose the genre you want it in and the title you want for it and then list what part of the story it is in the title.

Honestly, I was rather trepidatious when I first saw this prompt. But now, having completed it, it was so much fun! I loved creating Willie and taking him through the movie.

To my Santa Fe Dreamers teammates: Congratulations on writing such fantastic characters! Mabel and Silas are amazing! I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I am so lucky to have you two as teammates!

Also, there is no mini history lesson at the end of this one. The only research I did was about the most popular children's names of 1899. But the book Children of the City: at Work and at Play by David Nasaw was exceptionally helpful in creating Willie, and I would definitely recommend giving it a read.

Word count: 2,292 words

Tables Turn: Part II

Willie

That evening Willie didn't feel much like talking.

Sure, he had been talkative enough on the walk home, peppering Silas with questions about the police, the refuge, and if Crutchy would be okay. But once he had reached his family's apartment, he found he no longer wanted to talk.

He was silent throughout dinner. He was silent when his father was telling him about the new ship that was being fixed at the shipyard. He was silent while Ida told his siblings their bed time story. And he was silent as his grandfather stumbled up from the pub and began his nightly argument with Willie's mother about how unfair it was that he wasn't able to drink in the apartment.

Thankfully, no one had said anything about his lack of speech. By the time Willie had lain down beside Everett on their shared mattress, he was certain his behavior had escaped anyone's notice.

"Willie?"

He heard a rustle of fabric in the direction of the girls' mattress, and then Ida was sitting on the edge of the boys' mattress, staring down at him.

"Willie, what's wrong?"

Willie froze, hoping she hadn't noticed how quiet he had been all evening. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. You've been quiet all evening. Usually you're bursting to tell all of us all about what you did during the day."

She had noticed.

"It's nothing, Ida."

"It's not nothing, Willie. I can tell."

Willie bit his lip. There was no reason for him to be acting the way he was. It was stupid. But maybe Ida would reassure him of just how stupid it really was.

"We… I told you about how us newsies are on strike, right?"

"Only about a thousand times."

"Well, today, when we were striking, Pulitzer called the bulls on us. I got out of there real quick, but they got Crutchy."

"Crutchy?"

"One of the bigger boys. He lives at the lodging house, and he's real nice. He's called Crutchy 'cause he walks with a Crutch."

"Did they take him to the refuge?"

All Willie could do was nod.

"Poor boy," murmured Ida. "I bet that scared you."

Willie shook his head. "I didn't see it happen, and only kids are scared of stuff they don't see. Jack said that he and David are busting Crutchy out tonight. And if anyone can get him out, it's Jack! He escaped from the refuge on the back of Teddy Roosevelt's carriage!"

"Then why are you so upset?"

"It's just… When Silas was walking me home today, he didn't seem so sure Jack would be able to bust Crutchy out."

"But if you think Jack can do it, then why doubt him? I'm sure Crutchy will be back striking by tomorrow."

He had been right. Ida had told him just how stupid it was to be worrying over this. But one little thought kept nagging in the back of his brain, and he called out as Ida made to go back to the mattress she shared with their sisters.

"Ida?"

"What?"

It was a moment before Willie spoke again, and when he did, it was in a very small voice. "He wasn't doing anything wrong."

Ida sat back down on the bed and hugged him.

"Is Crutchy here? Did Jack and David get him out?" Willie wasted no time with hello's when he saw Silas and Mabel the next morning.

The newsies were gathered in the square outside The World building, ready for a full day of striking. They were planning on blocking the delivery carts, and making it so the newspapers didn't make it to the various stands throughout the city.

Mabel shook her head. "Jack got in late last night, but he did tell us that Crutchy wasn't in the best condition to go busting him out."

"He's hurt?" Willie frowned.

"That's what Jack said, but I don't know how badly. But if Crutchy needed even the least bit help, he'd refuse to leave. You know how he is."

"What do you…?"

"He's self-reliant, kid," answered Silas, setting a hand on Willie's shoulder. "But don't worry about him. Okay, capt'n? He's not in for long. He'll be fine."

Willie nodded, half believing, as a delivery cart started to pull out of The World's gates. The newsies lined up, forming a barrier against people leaving.

David's voice carried over the crowd, reminding them all to stay calm. But it was Jack's passionate yell that the newsies responded to.

"Let's soak 'em for Crutchy!"

The newsies charged through the gates, ready to avenge their friend. The scabs inside were retreating, and Willie got caught in the crowd as they surged into the distribution center. By the time the gates swing close and Willie realized it may be a trap, it was too late for him to warn anyone.

Willie tried to kick at a scab, to do something to help, but he was lifted up in the air by the back of his shirt.

"Let me go! Put me down!"

He tried to punch whoever was holding him, but his fists were only making contact with air. The man shook Willie around, knocking his hat down over his eyes.

"Let me go!"

Willie was dropped to the ground as the person who had been holding him let out a cry of pain. He quickly rolled to his feet, ready to try and help his fellow newsies. But the fight had already turned in their favor. He pushed his hat back into place, and caught sight of Brooklyn newsies rushing in through the gates.

The fight was over almost as quickly as it began, and Willie found himself being checked over for injuries. Looking over Mabel's shoulder, he saw Denton with a camera.

"Look! Denton's got a camera!"

"I wish I was in the picture! Then I'd be famous, just like Race was talking about!"

Willie skipped happily down the street. It had been what Willie had decided was a successful day of striking. During lunch, Denton had come into Tibby's and shown them all the article about the strike he had written for The Sun. Now, the sun was starting to set, and Mabel was walking him home.

"It would be nice to be famous, wouldn't it?"

Willie whipped around so he was facing Mabel while walking backwards.

"What would you do if you were famous?"

"I… What would you do?"

"I'd buy myself a big ship! And I'd go sailing all around the world and bring back all sorts of presents for my family! I'd bring you back something, too. Maybe a dress from Paris. My older sister read a book for school about France once, and she said they have really pretty dresses in Paris."

"You'd bring back something for me?"

Willie cocked his head at her. He didn't understand why she was so shocked at this.

"Of course! And I bring back something for Silas, too! And–"

As Willie made to turn around again, Mabel's arm darted out and pulled him to the side of the street. This sudden movement caught him off balance and his hat lid down around his ears, obscuring his vision.

"Careful!" admonished Mabel. "You nearly knocked that man over."

"Oh." Willie straightened the bowler hat with a frown.

The two resumed walking, Willie taking great care to show just how straight he was walking.

"Hey, Mabel?"

"Yes?"

"How come you're walking me home? The lodging house is in the other direction. I know that Silas usually walks me home, but that's just because he lives near me. I'm nine and a half! I can walk home by myself!"

"I know, it's just with the strike… Anyway, Silas said he had something to do, so he asked me to walk you home."

"Oh." Willie looked up at her, cutting a sentence off was something that his mother did sometimes, when she didn't want any of the kids to know want she was upset. He didn't know what she could possibly be worried about though.

"We're gonna win the strike, Mabel, just you wait and see!"

"You sure of that?"

"Yep! There's no way we can lose. Not with all the other Boroughs on our side and the big rally tomorrow."

If Mabel replied, Willie never heard it, because at that moment he had spotted his tenement building and was racing up the steps. When he reached the top, he turned around to wave before darting inside.

"Mum?" asked Willie, handing Nellie a plate to dry.

"What is it, dear?" His mother was sitting at the table, completing her finishing work from the factory with Ida's help.

"We're having a rally tomorrow, the newsies are, for the strike. It's gonna be at Irving Hall and there's gonna be all sorts of newsies from all over New York there. It's at night. After diner. But I was wondering if I could go?"

"Of course you can't." Ida answered before their mother even had time to think. "You have chores, and you need to help me put the babies to bed."

"I'm not a baby!" This indignant cry came from Agnes as she lay on the floor playing with her paper dolls.

"Kids, then," corrected Ida.

"You're a kid, yourself," stated Nellie, turning to look at her older sister. "My kindergarten teacher says you have to be eighteen to be a grown-up; you're only thirteen – Whoops!"

She made a frantic grab for the dish she had dropped, but Willie had already grabbed it.

He handed it to her with a soft, "Careful, Nell."

"Yes," said Ida, "but I'm seven years older that you."

"Girls, quiet. Your grandfather is sleeping in the other room. You don't want to wake him." interrupted their mother, a hint of warning in her tone.

Ida and Willie exchanged a look. Their grandfather had stumbled drunkenly into the apartment just as Willie had been about to go out the door that morning. Where he had spent the night, Willie had no idea.

"So? Mum?" asked Willie, giving his mother a hopeful look.

"Yes, Willie," she sighed. "You may go to the rally."

"Really?!"

"Yes. But you have to promise that you'll get one of the older newsies to walk you home."

"I promise!" Willie was practically bouncing, and only the plate in his hands kept him from leaping up to give his mother a hug. "Thanks, mum!"

Willie weaved his way through the sea of newsies as Jack got the crowd's attention by yelling "Carryin' the banner!"

He bumped into several people, and eventually a tall newsies with a sign that said 'Midtown' on it bent down to his level.

"Who're you, kid?"

"I'm Capt'n. Have you seen Sila–, I mean Smiley or Killer?"

"From Lower 'Hattan?"

Willie nodded, and the midtown newsies pointed him in the direction of where Silas and Mabel were sitting with several other newsies. They had saved him a seat, and Willie plopped down. Without so much as taking his eyes off the stage, Silas reached over and fixed Willie's bowler hat so it wouldn't block his vision.

Craning his neck to try to see Jack, David and Spot stood on stage, Willie whispered to Silas, "There sure are a lot of newsies here."

Silas nodded without looking at him. "Shhh. Jack is going to give a speech."

"So, we've come a long way," began Jack, "But we ain't there yet and maybe it's only gonna get tougher from now on. But that's fine, we'll just get tougher with it. But also, we gotta get smart and start listening to my pal David, who says 'stop soakin' the scabs'."

As Jack, David and Spot began to argue, Willie zoned out. If he had known that the rally was just going to be the older newsies arguing about whether fighting scabs was okay, he wouldn't have come.

It was only when the talking stopped and Medda began singing that Willie starting paying attention again. Silas swung him up so Willie was perched on Silas's shoulders. While Willie usually would protest, he didn't this time because it gave him a good view of Medda on stage.

All of the newsies were singing, and though Willie didn't know the words, he hummed along with them.

From his perch on Silas's shoulders, Willie watched David weave his way through the crowd of boys on the stage to where Jack stood singing with Medda. David was yelling something at Jack, and then Jack's face went pale. Willie didn't understand why, but Jack was running off stage.

When somebody yelled "It's the bulls!" everything made sense. The police were there, arresting newsies left and right, and Willie was pulled of Silas's shoulders and dragged toward a door.

Everyone was yelling, and Silas was no exception, shouting to Mabel over the din. "There's a door- leads to an alley! Take Willie and get him home!"

"What about you?" Mabel yelled back, never once letting go of Willie's arm.

"I need to stay and help!"

"If you're staying, I'm staying! I'm nine and a half! I can help!"

"No, Willie." Silas shook his head as he wrenched open that stage door. "I need someone to tell my family where I am. I'll be fine."

Silas shoved Willie and Mabel out into the alley, yelling to them "Go. Go!" before slamming the door shut.

The quiet of the alley was deafening. Faint sounds came from the front of the theater as newsies were being dragged out into the street.

Mabel looked at him, and Willie was certain she was just as shocked as he was. Without a word they took off down the alley, sprinting to get away from the theater.