Cigarettes and His Mother's Eyes

Five

The cold pulled him back to reality, back to the present, to the night instead of the afternoon, and he began to try and take stock of things again. The most obvious place to check for Mush was right behind the lodging house itself, where they'd always gone to be alone, but that was a little too obvious, really. Blink only glanced back there to make sure that he didn't end up wandering around all night and come back to see Mush shivering right outside where he'd been to begin with. But he was right–no such luck.

He gathered his thoughts, managed to keep them on track this time, now fully awake thanks to the cold air that chapped his lips and made him shiver as he walked, even through two layers of clothes. Mush would want to be somewhere in out of the weather, since even without snow on the ground yet, this was the sort of cold that killed off the homeless folks. And if he wasn't out of it… No, Mush is smarter than that. Even if he's upset and not thinking, he'll find somewhere to stay.

The options were pretty limited, though. Assuming Mush had stayed in Manhattan–which was likely, since he didn't know the rest of the city that well–there were a handful of other lodging houses. One was only a few blocks away; mostly kids who hawked for the Journal lived there. It was unlikely he'd stay there–a few weeks ago, a miniature feud between papers had broken out, and even though it was settled no one was really on speaking terms yet–but worth a shot. Except that, since it was the middle of the night, no one was going to be awake to let him in.

Well, breakin' in can't be harder than getting out, right? he asked himself, confident he could do it. He'd managed to leave dozens of apartments in a hurry when his date's parents showed up home early, a useful skill. But still, not one he was looking forward to trying out the other way around… If he woke someone up, at best the Journal kids would think he was pulling something at Jack's orders; more likely they'd think that and beat the hell out of him. And the feud would erupt again.

Mush would have realized that. He kept walking towards the Journal house, but doubts played through his mind. If Mush really don't want me coming after him, he'd be there, 'cause he knows I'd have to be real stupid to go after him. So maybe he'd go there to keep me away. But I don't know if he'd want to, 'cause a' the feud an' all, and 'cause he probably doesn't think I would come after him.

Blink remembered walking out of the alley. He hadn't looked back, because he knew too well what Mush's face would look like. He'd seen the crushed, hopeless look on Mush's face during the strike, when Jack was scabbing. He'd been so desperate for it to be a lie, they all were, but Mush was the one who showed everything on his face. Blink had been angry himself, he'd seen Racetrack bite back that same kind of anger for Les' sake, and Spot's reaction had left everyone else's in the dust. Eight people held the kid back, and he was still trying to launch himself over the police line.

They'd all been satisfied to see David try and take a swing at Jack. They'd all wanted to do it, except Mush, who looked like he just wanted to cry, like his faith in the world had been dashed. And Blink was certain that was the look Mush was giving his back as he strode away, and even as betrayed as he felt, he knew that if he saw Mush giving him that look, he'd have stopped. But Mush hadn't known that. Mush had no reason to suspect Blink was coming to find him.

So Mush probably wouldn't even be hiding. Or would he? He'd probably have gone for distance if he'd run away, and that meant he could be almost anywhere in Manhattan, if he'd grabbed a trolley. Damn it, Blink cursed mentally, looking around desperately. The wind picked up again for a second, and he shut his eye to it, trying to keep it from going dry or freezing.

He needed to think somewhere where he wasn't in danger of freezing to death. Prob'ly shoulda worked that out before I left home, he realized. Can't go back now; Racetrack would…

Well, Racetrack probably wouldn't do anything but make him feel guilty. As though he didn't feel guilty enough. Which meant finding somewhere else to think, which was almost as hard at this hour of the night as finding Mush would be. All of the newsies' usual spots were closed, even though it was only a little after one AM, and he didn't have enough money to afford any of the nightclubs.

He walked aimlessly for a few blocks, and stopped when he saw a small bar. He and Mush had stopped here once, when they'd been too late for curfew. It had been summer, they weren't worried about sleeping inside anyway, but had missed dinner, and this place was open and cheap, their only requirements. They'd joked about it, slapped each other on the back, and shared a beer.

Blink tried to let go of the memory, now bittersweet in his mind. He missed Mush. He was still pissed that Mush hadn't told him, and he felt almost used, somehow. He could picture the conversation he'd have had with Mush out in the alley, if this had happened with any other friend.

"It's just, he's my best friend," I'd say, and Mush would roll his eyes.

"So what's the problem, then?"

"The problem is all those times… I mean, things he did that I never thought about. Like when I'd come in late and my bed was taken, I'd lie down on his an' he was real nice for never complainin', but… I mean, did he like it or somethin'? An' when he'd hug me or put his arm around my shoulder–I mean, I did it to him too, 'cause we're friends and all. But I never thought about it…"

"So?" Mush would probably ask again, and steal the cigarette from my hand…

He made his way to the bar and dug through his pockets. The bartender gave him a skeptical look–he was pretty young, but this wasn't the sort of place where they asked questions like that–and when provided with a coin, he produced a mug of cheap beer and a muffin anyway. Blink picked at the muffin a little, though it was at least a week old and stale enough that breaking it apart took effort, and returned to his mental conversation with Mush.

"So what?" I'd snap at him. "I just feel weird about the whole thing."

"Well, did he treat the other guys different?" Mush'd probably ask, 'cause that's the sort of thing he always asks.

"Nah, he always did that to all of 'em, just like we all do. I mean, you know how we are, you an' me an' Racetrack, we can barely go without hitting each other for five minutes."

"Then why's it any different? You think that just 'cause he loved you he wasn't controlling himself or something?"

"I guess I thought that."

Blink frowned and took a gulp of the beer. It was terrible, but he wasn't going to complain. He got what he paid for, after all. I guess I thought that… Blink thought again, this time to himself instead of to his imaginary version of Mush. So he scared me, and I didn't know what to think. If I had just waited a minute, got hold of my goddamn temper for once, I bet he'd have explained or something. I wouldn't have made him promise to get out of my life. I don't want him out of my life.

Mush, you're supposed to be my best friend…

He tried the muffin again, but gave up, afraid it might break one of his teeth, and glanced around the bar. People were still milling around; a group over in one corner would whisper to each other for a few minutes, then burst into loud guffaws over something, a man and woman were drinking off at one table, and some poor guy with curly hair was sitting on the other end of the bar, one arm folded over the counter top, his head leaning against it, his other hand clutching a beer bottle. There were two empty ones sitting next to him.

Poor guy must be heartbroken or something. Drinking his sorrows away.

Blink turned back to his own drink, then froze. He looked back at the guy sitting down the bar from him, wishing it wasn't so damned smoky and dark in the room, or that he had better eyesight or something, because that guy looked… Just… Like…

I guess you got in from the cold after all.

He stood up, picked up his drink and his alleged muffin, and walked over. "Mind if I sit down?" he asked.

The guy looked up at him. It was Mush, he was right, though Mush didn't look terribly good. He stared for a second, his eyes wider than usual, and nodded a little. But the nodding made him violently dizzy, and he almost fell off the stool.

Blink saw the discarded bottles, and wondered how much Mush had had to drink, and how long ago he'd started. He debated asking the bartender, but didn't bother. "You okay?" he asked instead.

"What're you doing here?" Mush mumbled instead of answering, and took another drink from his bottle. His hand was shaking. Blink reached out and steadied it, then took the bottle out of his hand and set it down. He pressed the muffin into the hand instead, figuring that eating might help Mush sober up some, and asked the bartender for a glass of water. The glass didn't look terribly clean and the water was the same shade as the beer, but at least it wasn't alcoholic.

Mush accepted them wordlessly, though he gave up on the muffin almost as quickly as Blink had. They sat in silence for quite awhile, neither one willing to make another move to talk to the other, and finally Blink lit a cigarette. He offered it to Mush.

"No." Mush said it coldly, the closest to mean his voice ever got. His voice was surprisingly strong, given that he looked like he was about to pass out.

"You sure?"

"I hate those…" his voice was less strong now. He took another gulp of water and continued. "I only ever smoked 'em 'cause you did… Never smoked no one else's…"

"What?"

"You wanna know?" Mush asked dismally. Blink nodded a little, not sure what Mush was talking about, and Mush continued sickly, "They… They always tasted like you… A little, I thought… I mean, I always wanted… I wanted to taste your lips for myself, but you ain't like me, so… I never…" He trailed off then, staring down at the bar. "I'll get outta here now," he finally decided, and started to move to stand.

Blink put a hand on his shoulder, put just enough pressure on it to make him stop and sit back down. "You try an' stand now, you'll fall over," he said. "I've seen you drunk before."

Mush swallowed hard, and tried to dissect the muffin with shaking hands. It fell apart into a few sections and he stopped playing with it. "Why're you here?" he asked again.

Blink shrugged. "Looking for you, I guess."

"Why?"

"'Cause it was cold out an' I was worried about you."

"Why?"

"Why you gotta know why, huh?" Blink demanded, mostly joking, not really expecting an answer.

"'Cause you'se supposed to hate me," Mush answered. He picked up a bit of the muffin. "I'd hate me. If I was you." He ate it, though it took him a minute to actually get it chewed.

"I don't hate you. I'm mad at you. But I don't hate you."

Mush looked over at him for the first time. "If you'se so mad, why look for me?"

"'Cause you're my best friend," Blink reminded him.

"Your best friend ain't a fag," Mush quoted bitterly.

Blink winced from the memory of what he'd said. "I didn't mean it," he offered finally. "You know me. Impulsive."

"Yeah. And an asshole."

"What?" Well, that had caught him by surprise. Mush Meyers cussing out his best friend. That's on the list a' stuff I never thought would happen. He almost said so aloud, but stopped. Yeah, on the list, right after him tellin' me he's queer and in love with me.

Mush didn't say anything. No apologies, no explanations, but no more insults, either.

"So you wanna talk here where it's warm or do I gotta drag you back to the alley behind the house?" Blink finally demanded.

"Get away from me."

"What?" Blink asked again.

Mush put down the water and reached for his beer bottle. "I left you alone, when you wanted me to. Jus' like I promised. So you wanna do the same?"

"Mush, what's your problem? Why're you so mad?"

Mush took a drink before Blink could stop him and point out that he probably didn't need any more.

"It ain't gonna work," Mush said to him finally. "You and me. Friends. It ain't gonna work."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"It can't work, Kid. You'se here now 'cause you think you'll wake up tomorrow an' things'll be the same as they was yesterday. Like this'll go away. But it ain't gonna. We wake up tomorrow in the lodgin' house, and I'll still be queer. An' the day after that, an' the day after that, too. It ain't gonna change."

"So?" Blink demanded.

"So I know you, an' you feel real bad right now, 'cause we'se friends, but you ain't thinkin'. You never do. You want things back to normal, an' you figure if you come an' get me, it'll all go back to normal somehow. But it won't. Can't."

Blink took a swig of his own drink. Mush knew him too well. "Yeah, but…" he said.

"No buts. It's true, you know it, an' I know it. An' from now on, everything you tell me, every time we joke fight or whatever, you'se gonna wonder what's goin' through my head, if I'm thinking about you."

Damn it. Mush really did know him too well.

"So?"

"So I am gonna be thinking about you, Blink. Course I am. I love you. An' you'se gonna hate knowing that."

"Yeah," Blink admitted.

"It'll be easier if I just go."

"Where you gonna go, huh?" Blink demanded, trying to find some way to make Mush stop reading his mind.

Mush shrugged a little. "They need newsies all over, right? I can get on a train or somethin'… There's other cities."

"Don't be dumb. You ain't leavin' New York."

"I could."

"Nah, you couldn't. You an' me help each other, an' without you, I prob'ly couldn't get dinner at night." It seemed nicer than saying it the other way around, which was more likely.

"You don't need to be nice to me," Mush told him. "You'll be fine. An' if you wasn't, Jack an' Race an' everyone–"

"They ain't you."

"Ain't that the point?"

Blink tapped a few fingers against the bar, frustrated. "But Mush, you–look, I was real mad this afternoon. Still am kinda mad, but I at least thought about it some, an' I ain't mad at you for being queer or nothin'."

"Thanks." Mush shot him a dark look, and Blink realized again he'd said some stupid things. Of course Mush was mad at him, too.

"I don't mean it like than an' you know it," Blink said, a half-apology. Mush shrugged a little, a gesture of some sort of acceptance. "What I mean is… I got real mad 'cause you… 'cause I was…"

"Scared?" Mush suggested.

"Yeah, shut up." It was true. Mush had startled him, really, and he didn't know how to react. "But I was only mad 'cause you didn't tell me sooner. 'Cause you'se my best friend, an' I'm supposed to help you with stuff like that." He looked over at his friend, letting some of the hurt he felt show in his face. "Jus'… How come you never told me before?"

"'Cause I knew you'd get mad. You'd hate me. 'Cause I knew as soon as I told you, I'd have to leave an' couldn't never go back, an' I wanted to be with you at least a little, an' all our friends an' the lodgin' house an' all..." Mush started to drink again, but Blink took the bottle firmly from his hand and gestured towards the water cup. "What are you, my mother?"

"You ain't gonna like it when you got a headache tomorrow," Blink warned him.

"What do you care, huh? I ain't gonna be in the lodgin' house."

"Sure you is. I ain't takin' no for an answer. You'se comin' home with me."

Mush took a drink of the water. "Blink, I can't."

"Why not? I… I ain't mad no more. I ain't. You said you'd get outta my life an' I said yes after but I shouldn't a'... I was stupid, real stupid. An' I thought I'd lost my best friend, 'cause I thought you'd been lying to me for years. But I guess you was right, I did get real mad, an' I can see why you wouldn't want to tell me… But I know now. An' I don't care, Mush. I really don't. You'se my best friend, an' if I let you leave 'cause a' this, I'll hate myself forever. An' I'll hate you for goin'. You know I will."

Mush nodded a little. "Kid Blink…" he said. "What about the other part?"

"You'se in love with me?" Blink asked. Mush nodded, and Blink gave him his usual cocky grin. "Can't blame you for having good taste, can I?"

"Aw, shaddup."

Blink laughed a little. "But you'll get over it, won't you?"

"I ain't yet. It's been four years at least."

"Yeah, but I ain't never rejected you before. An' I know what that's like, 'cause I been turned down by lots a' girls I loved. An' you stop lovin' 'em real fast after that."

"Yeah, when you fall in love twice a month you do," Mush said bitterly. "I ain't never loved no one but you."

"It'll go away."

"An' if It don't?"

Blink's smile wavered back to discomfort. "We'll figure it out."

"How?"

"Dunno. But we will."

"What makes you so sure?"

"'Cause you'se my best friend. An' I'm yours, right? I ain't gonna throw away five years of that for one stupid fight."

"But…" Mush hesitated. He didn't want to have to stand by and watch Blink with girls anymore; he didn't want to stand by and play the best friend when that wasn't what he wanted anymore. But at the same time, if the only alternative was leaving Blink's life forever… He forced the thoughts to the back of his mind. Maybe Blink was right, and now that he'd heard the rejection for real, knew the fantasies had no chance of being true, really, he'd get over them. Maybe. He could hope for it, he had to. And maybe things really would go back to normal then. "You sure?" he asked finally.

"Sure I'm sure."

"What about the other guys? What'll they think?"

"I ain't gonna tell 'em. But if you do, anyone who says anything to ya gets soaked. By me," he said firmly. "An' I'm pretty sure Race'll have your back, too. An' if he does, Jack will. An' the four of us can take on anyone."

Mush nodded a tiny bit and finished the water. Blink took one last swig of beer. "You done?" he asked.

"Yep," Mush agreed. "But you'se sure–"

"Ask me that one more time, an' I ain't gonna help you scam Racetrack at cards no more."

Mush finally cracked a smile at that; Racetrack never lost, except for once when the boys had gotten together to pull the wool over his eyes. He'd been angry at them for weeks, but it had been worth it to see him sputter around that stupid cigar of his. "Awright, I trust you," Mush said.

"Good. Let's go home."

He stood and waited while Mush disentangled his feet, stepped down from the stool, missed the ground and nearly fell. Blink caught him, put an arm around his shoulder to steady him, and helped his slightly drunk friend towards the door. It was odd; he'd never have thought twice about walking arm in arm like this before, probably wouldn't have thought about it at all, and now… Now he noticed it. He figured he'd probably notice lots of things in the next few weeks, though. But I'll get used to it, he told himself. An' me an' Mush will be okay.

Mush realized that moving was a bad idea the second they hit outside, and doubled over, retching, ridding his stomach of the alcohol that had been stewing there. Blink laughed, knowing just how bad Mush was at drinking. If nothing else, this was normal… Things were definitely going to be okay.

 

Mush was asleep the second his head hit the pillow, before he'd even had a chance to take off his shoes. Blink sighed and glanced around the quiet room, though it was still too dark to really see anything. No one was awake, and everything was silent aside from the creaks of beds as people rolled over, the occasional snore, and Snitch's loud thumb sucking. Even Racetrack seemed to be asleep now, his deck of cards still clutched in one of his hands.

Blink rolled his eye silently at that, as he sat on Mush's bed and began to untie his friend's shoelaces, then set the shoes next to Mush's bed and made his way to his own. He began removing clothing and had just lay down, was actually almost asleep, when he heard it.

"Heh." It wasn't laughter, it was a statement. He rolled back over to try and peer past Mush's bed.

"What's so funny this time, Race?"

Racetrack propped himself up on an arm again. "Usually, it's Mush draggin' you home stinking drunk an' puttin' you to bed. Just funny for it to be the other way. 'S like you'se a grown up or somethin'."

"Aw, shaddup."

"So you an' Mush, you'se gonna be okay?"

Blink glanced at this sleeping friend. "Yeah," he said, and smiled. "Yeah, Mush an' me will be fine." With that, he rolled back over, shut his good eye, and drifted off into his usual deep sleep.

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