Ezra Bridger (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jabbathehutt) wrote2021-05-17 08:40 am
jabbathehutt) wrote2021-05-17 08:40 am
Mist under the East River
No one even noticed what happened to the kids on Delancey. Or never talked about it, which amounted to the same thing.
The papers covered the accident that took the life of three construction workers on the Manhattan side of what will eventually become the second East River Bridge. They said digging hit an underground cave they didn't know was there, and the families were compensated widely.
No one talked about the handful of street kids who had taken to using the site as shelter at night. Who had, due to dares and a morbid curiosity, snuck into the site to find - not an underground cave but a secret basement. And this is because no one survived to talk about it afterwards.
Except Ezra Bridger. Who never does talk about it.
In fact, most people have probably forgotten he was even friends with those kids.
Now he sells papes and lives by his wits on the Lower East Side, tries to avoid making any more friends, and keeps himself to himself.
Well, as much as that's possible among the ragged army of New York City newsboys.
The papers covered the accident that took the life of three construction workers on the Manhattan side of what will eventually become the second East River Bridge. They said digging hit an underground cave they didn't know was there, and the families were compensated widely.
No one talked about the handful of street kids who had taken to using the site as shelter at night. Who had, due to dares and a morbid curiosity, snuck into the site to find - not an underground cave but a secret basement. And this is because no one survived to talk about it afterwards.
Except Ezra Bridger. Who never does talk about it.
In fact, most people have probably forgotten he was even friends with those kids.
Now he sells papes and lives by his wits on the Lower East Side, tries to avoid making any more friends, and keeps himself to himself.
Well, as much as that's possible among the ragged army of New York City newsboys.
no subject
Ezra nods. Nine he can do - and he can get a decent amount shifted before then as well. He's completely unaware of what Spot is thinking about - though conversely he'd be much happier with Spot being honest about sharing money with him than trying to slip him money.
He's got a couple more questions - like where exactly they meet, what to expect when they get there, and similar, but he asks them between sales, secretly enjoying the chance to have company that he's denied himself for so long.
He's a pretty good seller as well - his regulars know him, and a few people who wouldn't look like they want a paper agree to buy with surprisingly little effort.
He's pretty sure he's not making them, but he's always not quite sure. Especially now he wants to make a good impression on Spot.
no subject
Spot's happy to wander with him, let him go where he needs to and answer questions in between sales - this is the part of the job he likes the best, just getting to stroll around and see the sights of the city, no particular pace or purpose. It's even better with Ezra, somehow, he's missed the company ever since he became leader in Brooklyn and never really sold with anybody else anymore.
So even when all the questions are done, he continues to walk with him, since he doesn't have any papes of his own to sell today.
"You're pretty good at this, you know." he comments after a while - and it's not a compliment he gives lightly.
no subject
It's not an easy compliment to take, being as meaningful as it is coming from Spot Conlon, and with the unspoken fact that Spot knows what Ezra can do andd might be suspecting him of 'cheating.' But Ezra's not given to false modesty and he knows he's good enough to make a bit of money. So he accepts it with a sly grin.
"Thanks. You don't got any tips?"
It's not often you get to work with the leader of any borough, let alone Brooklyn.
no subject
Spot tilts his head slightly, giving the question genuine consideration - he doesn't want to give him some thoughtless platitude that doesn't sound genuine. Eventually, though, he shakes his head.
"No, you got a good selling style and it works for you. Only tip I'd give is you could probably have picked up another 20 papes and still shifted them."
no subject
"Anyway, I don't wanna waste the dime if I can't shift them."
no subject
Spot shrugs casually - no skin off his nose if Ezra doesn't take his advice, after all, and if he's put some thought into the numbers he picks up, that's all that matters, it's his money and his decision.
"Alright." he says easily "You're good, though, better'n some kids who've been at it longer."
no subject
He doesn't trail off, just stops the sentence there. They know what the before means, and Ezra doesn't want to reflect on how it's different, requires different skills and planning when you're not pooling. He could afford to waste a dime on twenty extra papes when he knew Sabine was shifting a reliable number in Chinatown and Hera had her regular spot in Little Italy.
He tightens his face somewhat with the memory and then breaks into a convincing smile for the next customer.
"You think," he says, after that sale is over, "if we find out about others, we might find out what started it?"
no subject
Spot nods, understanding - or, at least, guessing - what was going through Ezra's mind. His own life might have been somewhat privileged, but that didn't mean he hadn't seen loss before, and he'd seen plenty of other boys go through it too, enough to give him some insight.
"Yes," he agrees, accepting the sort-of change of subject with ease "the more information we have, the more we'll be able to find out. If we can find out what started it, what it means, that might be... useful to you."
That and nobody likes to be alone, and if they can find others then Ezra will be less alone.
no subject
Not that he's going to stress Spot out with that. It's enough the Spot is helping him, he doesn't need to have the burden of all of Ezra's problems.
So instead he nods, belatedly gives a sideways smile.
"Kinda exciting, though, right? Like we could wirte for the papes instead of selling them."
no subject
Spot grins a little at that, nodding.
"I guess it is a little like being a reporter," he agrees - and there's a light in his eyes at the idea that he can't entirely hide, despite obviously trying to keep his tone casual.
The thing is, he'd love to be a reporter, but of course that's not a suitable job at all according to his father - you own the paper, you don't write for it. He doesn't know why that's the way it works, but it's not as though his father is the type to welcome questions.
"So let's go get the story." he smirks.
no subject
And that's infectious - it does seem exciting. If he looks past why they're doing it and just focuses on the potential thrill of breaking into the offices, it could be almost fun. Ezra smirks wider and nods, adjusting the cap on his head.
"Okay," he agrees. "I guess I'll see you there."
no subject
Spot is quite good at keeping cool, but he also doesn't usually let people get that close to him, not like this, so it's usually easier to avoid conversations that might reveal the less cool parts of himself. Like how much he likes to write.
He's pleased that Ezra seems to be in agreement, at least.
"I'll see you there." he nods.
no subject
He shifts extra papes the next few days as well, putting aside a nickel or so, so that when Wednesday rolls around he can get most of his stack shifted nice and early.
And then at nine o'clock, he slinkns off to the Journal building, looking forward as much to seeing Spot as to actually succeeding in their task.