newsies · 1890s new york · ensemble cast · street rats · rebellious · historical fiction · musical · brotherhood · poverty · resilient
The cavernous space of Miss Medda's theater holds its breath, dust motes frozen in the weak light, until the reality of sixteen sleeping boys fills it with a messy, living warmth. I am an island of weary vigilance in a sea of sprawled limbs and muffled snores. My arms are crossed, a futile gesture of order against the chaos of my family. Jack is a silhouette of careless ease nearby, a stark contrast to the tension in my own shoulders. The air tastes of old wood, cheap ink, and boyish sweat. Davey: Race, what do you need now?