This story was writin by me dea' fren' Pockets (howd' ya guess).  It's an awesome story a bit lengthy dough, but spiffy all da same. SORRY ABOUT THE WIERD MARGINS (To Pockets:hope ya's likes da wallpaper)

Bryan O'Donovan sat in an alley, deep in Manhattan. Despite the early afternoon heat, Bryan was quite comfortable,

sitting on da cold pavement of da dark alley. He was thinkin' 'bout his family. What dey must a been like. He never

could remember dem anyways. His earliest memories, dey was of de orphanage. Da nuns had found him on da

doorstep rather de udder orphaned kids found him, as an infant. It closed down when Bryan was 'bout five er six.

But he had escaped before dey could move him to a nudder orphanage. He had lived on da streets ever sense.

Having an "innocent" lookin' face as some of his co-workers said, had taught Bryan ta be cautious as ta whom he

talked wid. Not doing so, had landed him in a nudder orphanage once er twice and da Refuge a nudder time. Nope,

he wasn't goin' back ta dose places. Ever again. Dat meant keepin' a low profile, and not talkin' too much wid

anybody too much older den himself. It wasn't dat he was unsociable, just as skittery and nervous as a deer.

Almost anyding could startle dis kid. But still, lookin' so unsuspectin' did help Bryan in his line o' work.

"Well, time da get started I suppose." Bryan said ta himself as he stood up wid a groan. He brushed a lock of his

blond hair outta his bright blue eyes, as he walked to da edge of da alley. He paused fer a second den walked out

into da street. He walked da street in da direction a Central Park. He unexpectantly bumped inta someone, a

teenager wearing a cowboy hat, who was probably 'bout seventeen. Bryan slipped his hand into da teen's pocket.

"Oh, sorry mista. I didn't see ya der. I shoulda been watchin' where's I was

a goin' " Bryan hesitated for a brief moment, jumpin' a little when a loud

train whistle went off. Den turned to go, but de older boy put a hard hand on

his shoulder. Bryan froze when he heard de older kid say in a low rough voice,

"I don't dink so kid. Ya ain't gonna walk away dat easy."

RATS! Either Bryan was getting' rusty or dis guy was good. Bryan hadn't been

caught pick pocketin' in a long time. Da boy took his hand off Bryan, who

wheeled ta run off in de udder direction. He collided wid two udder boys, both

older, dat he hadn't even seen. Each grabbed one of his arms. Bryan struggled

and kicked has hard as he could. But nothin' helped. He was stuck. Livin' on

da streets fer most of his life had made Bryan street smart. One a two things

was gonna happen now. One he was gonna get a soaken, or two he was goin' back

into the waitin' arms of de authorities. Neither option looked bright. The

"cowboy", the one Bryan had tried ta pickpocket earlier kneeled down and

looked into Bryan's face. If Bryan hadn't known better he would a sworn dat

der was a look of amusement on dis guy's face!

Da "cowboy" smiled and said, "Your good kid, really good. But next times

don't hesitate so long. It gave ya way like a rose in a dumpster." Dis guy

knew what he was up ta all along?!

Fear and angry welled up inside Bryan, his Irish temper getting' da better of

him. "Yeah, so?" Bryan shouted in a thick New York accent, "Whatja gonna ta do

'bout it? Turn me in or just beat me up?" Der was a brief pause den da older

boys cracked up laughin'. Da two dat were holdin' on ta Bryan let him go. "Is

dat what you thought we was gonna do?" da taller of his "holders", who had an

eye patch over his left eye, asked tryin' to stop from laughin'.

"Aw man Jack, I dink we need ta rethink our "approaches" 'ear if we's is

scarin' little kids like dis! Give people's da wrong impression of us!" Dis

was da third member of da party, and he was makin' this comment to da one wid

da cowboy hat. He had short, curly brown hair.

"Mush peoples already gots da wrong impressions of us!" Dis was Jack, who

playfully shoved Mush over.

"Who says I was a scared? I ain't scared a nobody!" Bryan, wid all da

boldness of his twelve years, blurted out. Da boys looked down at him, which

made Bryan gulp. He looked down "Well, maybe I was a little. But ya can't let

peoples know dat if dey's gonna beat da tar outta ya!"

All smiled. "Well dat's true." Jake reasoned, "But we ain't gonna 'beat da

tar outta ya', and we's ain't gonna turn ya over to da bulls neither. So ya's

can stop shaken now." It had just occurred ta Bryan dat he was shakin', having

just been scared half outta his mind.

He took a deep breath ta calm himself then stated, "Well if ya ain't gonna

soak me, and ya ain't gonna turn me in. Den why'd ya stop me? Ya didn't have

anything in dem pockets a yours. At least not dat I found."

Jack chuckled. "I just wanted ta let ya know dat ya failed on your attempts.

Dat's all. Most people would send ya ta da bulls."

The one wid de eye patch, Kid Blink, continued, "We's all just tryin' ta make

a livin', right? So we's don't mind given out a helpful hint once in a while."

Jack looked at Bryan and asked, "We's just finished sellin' out papes and was

gonna get a bite ta eat. Wanna come wid us?"

"Sure, dat be fun. I guess." The older boys introduced demselves as Jack

Kelly, Kid Blink, Blink fer short, and Mush.

"We's is newsies kid, we sell newspapers." Blink explained when Bryan asked.

"What's yer name by da way?" Dis was Mush. His curly hair and smile made him

look like he was always up ta mischief.

"I'm Bryan, Bryan O'Donovan." It was odd. Da most Bryan ever told someone,

when they asked him, was his last name. Which was usually made up. But he felt

like he could trust dese newsies.

Da newsies treated Bryan ta lunch at a restaurant called "Tibby's". Der dey

meet

up wid a few udder newsies, which Jack introduced as Racetrack, Skittery, and

Specs. After dey was finished, Jack, Mush, Blink and Specs walked da streets a

New York wid Bryan. Racetrack and Skittery headed over to da Sheepshed

racetrack. Da place Race got his name. He loved ta gamble on da horses. Most a

da time he lost, but he still loved it. As dey walked Jack told Bryan 'bout

bein' a newsie, Bryan listened and asked questions wid total interest.

"Wow, it would be so cool ta be makin' honest money." Bryan thought ta

himself " 'Stead of stealin' it off a people." Bryan told dem 'bout bein' a

pickpocket, and how hard it was fer him personally, just ta take someone

else's hard earned money. "But," he added wid a sigh and a shrug, "I's gotta

eat ta live and ta eat I's need money. And I's don't know much else."

"Why don't ya go ta work in a factory?" Mush asked.

"Ya'd be makin' honest money den" Blink pointed out.

"Tried it. I just can't work in dem factories. I feel just to damned closed

in, ya know? I gets all jittery when I'm inside fer to long." Bryan jumped fer

'bout da fourth time in da past hour as somethin' else startled him. De udder

boys laughed.

"More nervous den you are now? Ya'd bring da whole buildin' down!" Jack

laughed. "If someone didn't already have da name, we'd have ta call ya

Skittery!" This made de udders laugh even harder, all rememberin' when deys

first meet Skittery. Jumpiest guy dey'd ever meet. Till now.

Bryan looked away, "I'm a just always worried dat da bulls is gonna come out,

and a turn me over to da Refuge."

Specs stopped and whispered in Jack's ear. Jack turned and whispered back. As

hard as he tried, Bryan couldn't make out a word. Dey both turned to Bryan.

Jack asked, "Hey Bryan, whatta say? Ya wanna become a newsie? Make some honest

money fer a change?"

Bryan was speechless. "Ya mean it? I could be a newsie? Make me own money?"

Jack shrugged "Yeah, why not? I could shows ya da ropes da first day or two."

Jack put a hand on Bryan's shoulder. "So how 'bout it?" Bryan didn't know what

to say. Nobody had ever done anyding for him. Especially nothing' like dis. It

was always Bryan lookin' out fer Bryan. Even his fellow pickpockets couldn't,

or wouldn't, give him any help. And dey were what Bryan considered his family.

He looked up at da newsies and whispered, "Ya really think I could?"

"Absolutely." Blink said smiling.

Specs added, "From what ya've been telling us 'bout da story's you've made up

in da past. Heck, you'd be a natural!"

"It's settled den. Startin' tomorrow, you'll be sellin' papes as a newsie."

Jack decreed. Dey went back to da Lodging House, and said hello ta Kloppman as

dey walked in. Jack gave Kloppman a quick explanation before dey went up

stairs. Kloppman smiled and nodded ta Bryan. He was glad ta see anudder newsie

in his house.

Bryan asked Specs who da man standin' behind da desk was as dey walked up da

stairs. "Oh dat's Kloppman, he owns da place. He's kinda like da grandfadder

we never had. Ya know what I mean?" Da room was filled wid bunk beds. And

newsies all talkin' and laughin'. Bryan saw Race on da floor playin' poker wid

two udder newsies dat he didn't know. He saw Specs walk over ta a black kid,

who looked 'bout Bryan's own age, and started to talk wid him.

Jack called fer silence, which came almost immediately. "Yeah, hey listen up

yous guys! Alright, we's got us a new newsie! Dis here is Bryan! I wants

everybody to point out da scabbers and da Delanceys to him, and help 'im along

till he gets da hang a things!" Everybody cheered and called greetings ta

Bryan. He felt nervous, (big surprise) at being so singled out. Jack pointed

around da room introducin' people. "Race ya know, dat's Itey and Snoddy wid

him. Dat's Boots and Pie Eater over der wid Specs. Dat's Snipeshooter and

Bumlets. Pie Eater over der wid Skittery, da one you take after." Blink, Mush,

and Specs laughed at dis comment. All knowin' how skittery der newest member

could be. "Over der are Snitch, Dutchy, Jake, and Crutchy. And that be Snitch

and Swifty, wid Spot Conlon over der. Spot's da leader of da Brooklyn newsies.

He's just stayin' here fer da night." Spot nodded to Jack and Bryan. He walked

over to 'em. He spit-shaked wid Jack. "Looks like ya gots yourself a good one

here Jackie-boy." Ta Bryan, Spot commented motionin' ta Jack, "And how'd a kid

like yaself get caught up wid a scabber like him?" Jack punched Spot lightly

in da stomache, and da two started play fightin' briefly.

Most of da names and faces had already started ta run together, but Bryan

knew he'd learn 'em all soon enough. Jack gave Bryan a top bunk ta sleeps in,

across from Blink. Race was under Blink, and Snipeshooter was right under

Bryan. He slept well dat night, better den he ever did out on da streets, in

cold, noisy, fowl smellin' alleys.

In da mornin', Jack gave Kloppman da month's board and spotted Bryan some

papes, tellin' him he could pay him back later. Bryan walked da streets of

Manhattan with Jack, and de udder newsies, always by his side hawking

headlines. Each had a little somethin' ta teach him. Jack taught him one of da

most important rules of sellin' papes. It was "improvin' da truth a little."

Dis came almost as second nature ta Bryan. Always havin' ta come up wid a

different excuse each time he bumped inta someone, stealin' his or her money.

It wasn't long afore Bryan was a shoutin', "Extry, extry! Bank corruption!

Employee steals from vaults! Thousands of dollars lost! Thief still at large!"

When all da headline really said was "Mayor loses wallet in front of First

National Bank."

"You's be a natural kid!" Jack and Blink comment on Bryan's first day as a

newsie.

Bryan couldn't believe how much money he had made, just by sellin' papers. By

de end a day two, Bryan had sold all a his papes, and paid Jack back fer da

papes he had spotted him, and he still had money left over.

It was towards de end of his fourth day a work and he and Jack where headin'

back ta Newsies Square, dey had teamed up wid Race, Mush, Blink, and

Snipeshooter. And later Specs and Crutchy joined 'em. Den Itey, and Dutchy.

Till dey was a pretty good sized group. Snipe and Bryan talked together a

lot. Dey seemed ta have a lot in common, and were becomin' really good

friends. It was den that Bryan saw a familiar sight. A crowd street. But dat

wasn't all. He saw a woman wid her hands full a dings from da market. Bryan

excused himself from da group and walked briskly towards da lady. He half

collided wid her. Both tried to apologize at da same time, as Bryan help her

pick up a few dings dat she had dropped. He patted her shoulder, and

apologized again. She laughed and said that "Nothing was a miss." Both smiling

dey went der separate ways.

Bryan walked back ta da udder newsies. It wasn't till he was half way der dat

he realized what he had just done. He had lifted somebody's money again. He

was so used ta doin' it, it had become like a reflex. Da past four days, Jack

had been wid him constantly, and kept him busy tryin' ta learn de in and out's

a bein' a newsie. Dis hadn't given Bryan much time ta dink 'bout his former

job. Once he did, what did he do? Lift da first person he set eyes on. He

slowly walked da rest a da way back ta da newsies. Jack pulled him into a side

alley, slammed him against a wall, and wacked him upside da head a few times.

"Whats a matta wid you?" Jack asked wackin' him again. "Didn't we's tell ya,

ya didn't have ta do dat no more?" Bryan tried ta keep his voice steady, which

was hard because he was so angry wid himself. And scared dat he was goin' ta

get a soakin' from Jack. "I'm s..sorry Jack. I didn't mean ta do it! It just

be like a reflex. I so used ta doin' it, I don'ts even dink 'bout it no mores!

I'm really sorry Jack! I won'ts do it again I promise!" Jack sighed and let

Bryan go. "I knows ya didn't mean ta do it kid. I just don'ts wanna have to

soak ya. Or sees ya getting' caught. We's gotta break yous a dis habit a yours

dough. Or it's gonna get yous into more trouble den da both of use can

handle."

Da newsies walked back home, and met up wid da rest of da newsies dat stayed

at da lodgin' house on the way, till dey was a large group. Dey was all

loungin' around, sittin' on da steps of da lodging house, when da conversation

drifted ta nicknames. Everybody had one but Bryan. Boys started ta shout out

ideas, and Bryan leaned over and whispered ta Snipeshooter askin',

"Nicknames?"

Snipeshooter looked up at him, "Sure, we's all got 'em. Jack's is Cowboy. And

don't tell him I told ya, but Bumlets' real name is Prestley. And he hates it.

It might take us a while ta come up wid somethin' dough. We's ain't the most

creative bunch."

"Skittery Jr.! He's even more jumpy den our Skit!" someone called out. Nearby

a trash can fell over wid a bang, makin' both Skittery and Bryan jump. Bryan

jumped da higher. Dis made everybody crack up. Even Bryan laughed a little.

Suggestions flew back and forth, but nothin' seemed right. It was den that

Racetrack said, "Bryan! What you do wid me money?" Race had actually, for

once, had a good day at da track.

Bryan raised up his hands. "I didn't do it!" he got up and brushed past

Dutchy before he turned back around ta face Racetrack. "For all I knows,

Dutchy's got it!"

Dutchy, who was sittin' a step lower den da one Bryan, was now standin' on

looked up. When Race went over ta inspect him, he found what he was lookin'

fer. A confused band a newsies and an angry Dutchy all turned ta look at

Bryan.

"What's you all's lookin' at me for?" Bryan tried ta hide da grin that was

spreadin' across his face, but it didn't work.

Dat was when Mush cried out, "Pockets! We'll call him Pockets!" Everybody

liked dat named and voiced his approval.

"Den it's settled." Jack said formally, "Pockets O'Donovan!"

Kloppman stuck his head out da door ta tell da boys dat it was time ta come

in fer bed. As Bryan, uh Pockets settled down fer da night. He realized

somethin'. He had a family now. More a one den he did wid da udder pickpocket

kids. But a real family, a family dat cared 'bout him.

Da room was just quietin', down when, from across da room, Skittrey called in

a warning tone, "Pockets…."

"I didn't take it!!"

Da room erupted into fits a laughter. As da boys settled down again, der was

no doubt in Pockets' mind. Yep, fer da first time in his life, Bryan Pockets

O'Donovan had a family. He was home.