#davey-doll

“Medda, you’ll never believe who I ran into yesterday”he said. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Over the thrumming of his heartbeat he could only see her lips moving. 

“Pardon?”he panted, walking the extra few steps to place the texts on her desk.

“I asked who did you see?”she said. His heart pounded just that little bit faster as he thought of the lazy smirk that had graced his presence. It made his blood boil all the same. He walked over to his perching crate and found it had already been turned over. Huh. Peculiar. He allowed himself the luxury of a seat, lowering his long legs down and tucking his chin beneath his knees.

“Jack Kelly,”he finally said. Medda clicked her tongue and offered up a patient smile.

“Jack Kelly”she repeated, “The man of mystery. Now what is he doin’ back in town?”

“Your bet is as good as mine”he sighed, “I was just walking through the square and he caught me by surprise”

“Snuck up on ya?”she asked.

“Almost gave me a heart attack”he confirmed, running his hands over his face. “The way he was dressed...that stupid blue waistcoat I...it was like time had just stopped for a second. Felt like 1899.”

He heard the creek of her chair and heeled footsteps walking towards him. A warm hand on his shoulder had him melting into her side just like the first time. Just like the summer of 1899. He wrapped his arms around her waist and in a moment of blind judgment he buried his face into her satin dress.

Medda sighed and placed a hand on his cap. This is exactly what she was afraid of.

“I’m so sorry, sugar”she said, “it’s not always easy seeing people from our past”

“I thought I was fine”he mumbled, and finally pulled away from her with misty eyes. “I thought I had gotten over him years ago-“

“Let me stop you right there,”she said. “There is no right amount of time it takes for a heart to heal. Feelings aren’t like arithmetic or science, they’re not predictable. You can’t plug them into a neat little formula and get a conclusive answer. They’re messy and volatile and explosive and can make you feel like your whole world is on fire and there ain’t a drop of water in sight-“

“Then why do we feel them?”he choked out. “I-if it hurts so bad then...then why?”

“Because on the opposite side they’re beautiful and delicate and euphoric and...and so human. Loving is one of the only things that comes as naturally as eating and sleeping”she said.

“If it’s so natural then why...why didn’t he?”he asked. His arms wrapped around himself like a motherless child.

“Now I’m not here to make excuses for the boy”she said carefully, “but Jack...he..he wasn’t really used to love, ya know? Didn’t have folks to show him”

Davey nodded slowly. He supposed that makes sense. He sniffled and rubbed his arms to soothe himself. Too tired and now too cold to even feel the waves of hot embarrassment trying to embrace him.

“You don’t have to forgive him,”Medda said softly. “What Jack did was rotten, no matter what his reasoning was. You’re allowed to not forgive him”

Davey chuckled and felt another wave of watery laughter bubbling in his throat.

“How could I not forgive him, Medda?”he asked. “I love him”

“Do you love him, or do you love who you thought he was?”she asked. He frowned and dropped his hands to his thighs.

“I...I don’t know”

-

For the rest of day Davey found his mind wandering back to that exact question. The wise phrase has snowballed into something short and sweet. Did he love Jack?

Well he knows that he did. But did he still now? He groaned and struck a line through his second grammatical error. Why were feelings so complicated? It felt like rocket science—he scoffed and rolled his eyes. At least rocket science had definite answers. This was something he had to decide. Such a serious answer from the depths of his own mind. No years of research to back him up, no proven hypothesis, no textbooks to refer back to Incase he got lost. 

It was simply up to him.

How could he do that all those years ago. How could he declare something so strong,so dangerous, and do it without a second thought? He knew it was natural—Medda was a trusted source on these matters—but now did he know? What was the defining moment? What ticked just the right way in his adolescent brain that proved what he felt was love? How does he know now? He slammed his pencil on his desk and a second later his forehead. 

This was going to drive him insane. Do you love him, or do you love who you thought he was? He doesn’t know. One minute there’s memories of sitting on the rooftop,sharing a cola and kissing under the stars. The next all he can remember is feeling like his body was on fire and screaming with every ounce of his being. The memories switch between the two extremes until all he can do is screw his eyes shut and let out a muffled scream. He wanted to rip his brain out and pick at every individual memory until he had numerical data to come to his conclusion. He wanted to hold a survey for every newsie young and old that had seen their interactions. He wanted something tangible so these thoughts could finally go dormant and maybe just maybe die for good.

He just wanted to know.

Maybe if he knew where he stood this could finally rest. It felt so easy saying he loved him. It was second nature in thought and in practice, but why? Was it only easy because he’s been saying it for so long? What even was love at fifteen? Did he really love Jack or was he holding onto some weird amalgamation of admiration and pure horniness? 

What did he even like about Jack-

“Davey!”Medda said, snapping her fingers. He jolted up in his chair and whirled around to see her standing in the doorway of his office. 

“Huh?”he said intelligently. She clicked her teeth and pushed herself off the doorframe.

“That was the fifth time I’ve called you,”she said. “You’re thinking mighty hard about something”

“Im sorry”he winced, “I don’t think I’m all the way there right now”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,”she sighed.

“Huh?”

“Go on and get out of here”she said waving a hand. “We’ll chalk up this lack of focus to the heat”

“Medda I couldn’t-”

“But you’re going to,”she said. “Go out there and have some fun. Sit under a tree and read one of them textbooks for school or somethin. You just gotta promise me one thing”

“Uh huh?”he hummed, he was already packing his things into his school bag.

“Don’t you go lookin for that boy.”she said. “If he finds you then so be it, but I swear if hear from anyone that you were lookin for him-”

“Uh huh”he nodded, pulling the bag over his shoulder. His fingers had been itching to sit down and tuck into one of his Descarte books for his philosophy class.

“David,”she said sharply. 

“Yeah?”he said, with wide eyes.

“I need you to actually be listening”she said.

“Of course”

“Stay away from that boy,”she said slowly. “I know your brain is racing right now but don’t do anything rash lookin’ for answers. Alright?”

He hated being told what to do. Part of him wanted to do it just out of spite but from the look on Medda’s face one of them would be folding, and it wasn’t her. He sighed and nodded, hitching his bag higher on his shoulder.

“Alright, Medda. I promise.”

“Good”she smiled, “now come over here and give me a hug”

He laughed and walked over to him wrapping his arms around her shoulders and letting his chin rest on her head. She held him in a tight squeeze and rocked the two back and forth, similar to how he watched his own mother rock Les when they were kids.

“You’ve had a rough day,”she concluded. He barked a laugh and squeezed her a bit tighter.

“I’ve had a rough life”he said, “One bad day won’t kill me now”

She pulled away and gave his shoulders one last squeeze. “You’re too strong sometimes, sugar. Just because one bad day won’t kill you doesn’t mean the wound won’t run as deep.”

“Huh?”he said tilting his head.

“It’s okay to ask for help”she said. “Whether it’s me, or that sister of yours or even racecar-”

“Racetrack-”

“-that’s what I said.”she said. “It’s okay to let others take care of you”

He snorted to himself. The last time I let someone take care of me they got bored and left he thought. Instead he just nodded and grabbed his cap to place on his head.

Jack huffed and kicked his foot out.“What do you mean on his own time”

“Jack, David is coming up on almost ten years of working for me,”she said evenly. “He started off doing most of my dirty work. Analyzing pieces,leadin’ rehearsals,doin wigs,costumes,learned to sew and even acted himself at times” she continued. “If anyone deserves to pick their working hours it’s him.”

“Well then can you tell me anything about him? Anything?”Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair. Medda’s eyes widened and she rose from her chair, planting her hands flat on her desk.

“This your first time back in town in years and you’re just here to prod me for information about a man—who wanted to give you everything if I do recall—and you went and blew it?”

“I-“

“No no no Jack Kelly, now you’ve got my blood boiling”She adjusted her robe and walked towards him. “Why do you think it’s right that you put that boy through hell and you can just waltz back in?”

“Through hell?”Jack scoffed. “that’s a laugh”

“And back!”Medda grunted, stomping her foot. “Poor David was already broken when you refused his proposal—just to add insult to injury you went and disappeared not soon after!”

Jack immediately shook his head. “Davey was-no that can’t be right”he mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. He remembers that night clear as day. No no they sat on the rooftop, he bought Davey a soda. He remembers so well because the moonlight had hit Davey’s face in a way that had him itching for a paintbrush. They had gone up there to fool around, just how they always did. And they did. Boy they did.

They had finished and Davey had Jack wrapped up in his arms, it felt warm and safe like it always did.

Then Davey had said two little words. 

Marry me. It was a mere whisper, could’ve been chalked up to the breeze. But he heard it, mumbled into his hair. The warm breath barely brushed the shell of his ear.

It sent Jack into a panic.

He cringed thinking back on it. He had freaked out, worse than he wanted to. Worse than he ever intended to. He bolted up and asked Davey to repeat himself, begged him. And Davey did, with so much hope in his eyes, so much mirth in his smile. He tried to grab onto Jack’s hand but he flinched as if he’d been burned. Why would Davey want to get married and ruin what they had? He’s seen what marriage has done to people, his folks, Race’s folks. Random blokes in alleyways with a prostitute when you had just sold them a pape with their wife on their arm the day before. It was a pointless practice, why would you swear yourself to someone for forever when you couldn’t keep the promise? He didn’t do forever, he did one night, he did moments, forever wasn’t promised to anymore. 

It was suffocating.

He...he asked Davey to leave. they got into it. And...

Now he remembers just how broken he was. Years of trying to wipe those shattered eyes from his mind and they come back full force. He could see him standing there, soft light illuminating his body, bloodshot hazel eyes and tear slicked cheeks. He remembers hearing him cry, remembers not caring. Throwing him a rag to clean himself off like...

Like an object. 

Jack blinked rapidly. He reduced Davey to nothing but an object that day.

“Medda I fucked up”he said quickly. “I...I-“

“And it only took you nine years to figure that out”she said, shaking her head. 

“You left cause you didn’t wanna face him, didn’t you? Didn’t want to deal with the consequences?”

He nodded. He hated that she was right. She walked over to the crate he was perched on and whacked him over the back of his head. He lurched forward with a groan.

“Now what did I tell you the first time you tried to pull something like this?”she said.

“I..nowhere will ever be the right place if I’m running away”he sighed. 

“Exactly”she said, “and look at you right where you started! Jack Kelly I have been telling you from the first day I met you that playing with people's feelings is a dangerous game”

“I know but-“

“I told you that and you still went and did it”she seethed, “it was all a game to you, wasn’t it? Those people had feelings Jack. Feelings and lives and who knows how many hearts you’ve broken at this rate. Broken hearts are no game”

“I know but why are you telling me this!”he exclaimed, bunching his hands together. “I know! I know! I just—I already feel shitty why do you have to rub it in?”

“Because you may be one of my boys, but so is David”she said, “and what you did is something no one should ever do. You didn’t just break his heart, you never gave it back”

“I what-“

“Not to mention that from the little stunts you pulled, you made it so no other homosexual newsie would ever lay an eye on him. And it’s still in place today”

His stomach turned. “w-which means?-“

“-which means if David even wanted to find love, no other newsie would have him”she said, “playing games with love and attraction and feelings is never good Jack. Love may feel so light and airy but it should never be taken so lightly. You were a selfish selfish boy, you only thought about what you wanted, how you felt”

“I...how can I fix this?”he asked, “I wanna fix it”

“Leave him alone”

“What?”he spat.

“Walk your behind right back out of town and don’t look back”she said, “you’ve already taken so many years of his life, you don’t need more. And I don’t want you to give him hope either, David may be logical but that boy leads with his heart and even after so many lonely years, his heart still wants you”

“His heart can have me!”Jack said quickly, “please Medda I...help me...please”

“Don’t you get it, Jack?”she chuckled, her eyes were sad. “This is the price you pay when you play the game”

“Speak plainly for god sake!”he groaned, gripping at his hair. “Yer trippin me up!”

“There’s no fixing what you broke.”she said. “No way in hell if I’m honest, what you did to David is what happens to widowers after the loss of their spouse, they lose themselves. David hasn’t been right since what you did, when I say it broke him I mean it. He may still be smart and funny and tough as nails but his heart...it still needs to heal before you try anything”

“Then what do I do?”he stressed. “Medda I-I can’t just leave him alone, you don’t understand I-there’s-I want him so much—“

“I do understand,”she said, rolling her eyes. “How do you think David felt? You both felt the same things, just years apart”

“I need him, Medda,”he said. “I-I haven’t stopped thinking about him-it’s why I came back, Davey’s like my Santa Fe!”

“You should have told him that nine years ago”she mumbled.

“I was seventeen!”he shouted. “For god sake Medda I was young! What did you want me to do! I get it, I was young and stupid and an asshole, I know!”

“I’m glad you do”She said, “the theatre’s opening soon, I need you to be on your way”

“I-“he deflated, “can I come back tomorrow?”

She gave him a crooked smile. “You may piss me off but you’re always welcome to my theatre.”

“I’m not giving up on Davey,”he said.

“you should”she sighed, “but I know you won’t. We’ll talk , now out.”

“Med-“

“Shoo!”she said, ushering him towards the door.

Twenty minutes later, Davey walked in manuscript under his arm and puffed out.

“Medda, you’ll never believe who I ran into yesterday” 

There was a sofa situated against the wall opposite to the front door, and a dining table that was placed near the fireplace which was probably a safety hazard, seeing as it was made of wood. He wasn’t quite sure how that worked yet, but he’s been in for a year and it has yet to catch on fire.

The linen closet was filled to the brim with blankets Katherine and Sarah knitted for him every Christmas. It was a sweet gesture and he’d never say no to a good blanket. His cabinets were filled with tea—he hadn’t touched coffee since his few years as a newsie—and usually a treat if the money was good that week. He had yet to find a good tea set that didn’t break the bank.

The pantry was filled with the basics because Davey couldn’t cook and didn't have the disposable income to hire one. He did enjoy spending time with Sarah and Katherine, those two actually had a cook...and a maid, and a gardener. But, he wasn’t going to be bitter, he was happy for his sister. Whatever she and Katherine had going on was truly special. 

There was a bookshelf in the far corner of the room. It had yet to be filled with anything but textbooks for his lectures and manuscripts of Medda’s shows that needed revising, but that was fine. He loved his apartment no matter how small, it was cozy and it was his. Well, his and Les. After their father had passed on due to his injury, Les had been staying with Davey. Their mother—bless her—hadn’t been the same since, she had fits of anger and sometimes would sob uncontrollably. Les was sixteen, he was old enough to understand grief, but Davey still didn’t want him to see that. He took up the couch and let Les have the bedroom, that’s how it’s been for the past two years, coexisting in peace. He frowned as he turned onto the block of his neighborhood, usually in peace. He’s still not sure what got into Les earlier. He was a good kid, he could be a little brash but things like this,arguments like this never happened, least of all in public. Surely he had to just be testing boundaries, because if this was the new normal Davey wouldn’t stand for it.

Once his apartment was in view he lengthened his strides. He could feel the grip of fatigue on his bones and he still had work to do, the manuscript for Medda’s show wouldn’t revise itself. He smiled a bit, he loved Medda. He reached the door and knocked once, then twice. It creaked open to reveal Les, still in his school uniform, it looked like he hadn’t even washed up for the night. Davey furrowed his brows and stepped inside. Everything seems as he left it, no trace of any other human life but Les. He shrugged off his suit jacket and swung it over the back of a chair, he’d have to pick that up later. He just about remembered to toe off his shoes and walked over to the couch taking a seat.

“Have you started your homework?”he asked. Les looked at him with a bored expression.

“Didn’t have any”

“Did you make yourself something to eat?”

“Not hungry”

He rolled his eyes. “Are you done having an attitude?”

“Nope”Les said popping the p.

He sighed. “Suit yourself”

Les grunted and stalked down the hall to the bedroom. The door slammed a minute later. Davey rubbed his temples, he didn’t have time to deal with teenage angst. It was getting to be late and he had a list of things that still needed to get done. This is why he rarely visited Racetrack, when they were together they still ran on Newsie time and could talk all night if you left them. The adult world really was something, so much to do but always so little time. He pushed himself off the couch with a groan, he needed his notebook but it was in the bedroom. He took a deep breath--honestly he took two, and walked down the hall. He knocked on the door, all he got was a cry of annoyance. 

Les was really testing his patience. He walked inside to see Les’ face was already fixed so sour.

“What?”Les huffed. Davey simply walked past him, grabbing his notebook and fountain pen off his desk.

“I’m not here for you,”he said calmly.

“Oh”

Davey also grabbed a pillow and his pajamas, he didn’t feel like making a second trip. He was just going to leave the room but it seemed pettiness just ran rampant through the family. He paused at the doorway and turned around. “You know how galileo thought the sun was the center of the universe, right?”

“Yes…?”Les said.

“If the sun isn’t even the center of the universe--one of the most essential foundations to all living things--I can’t possibly fathom why you think that you are”

Before Les could respond he left, shutting the door behind him. He felt satisfied, sure he remembered being a teenager and thinking he knew everything but to have such audacity? It makes him wonder who exactly has been raising Les these past few years because it obviously couldn’t have been him. How much shit did Esther let slide when he was a kid? She would have never let Davey get away with half of that. He took another deep breath, there was no use digging into old wounds. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he was the adult in this situation. If it got anymore out of hand then he could send Les to stay with Sarah. He plopped down on the couch and started making his to do list.

Read over Medda’s manuscript, due Sunday

Read Othello, due in the coming week

He groaned, it was due so soon and he hadn’t even started. He needed to shake his grammar school work ethic.

Arithmetic work, due soon

He needed to get better at keeping dates, a calendar book would be going on his Christmas list.

Buy groceries, preferably tomorrow

Tidy up the house

He read over a few times before a realization dawned on him. He slapped his forehead and briskly wrote down.

Tip Elmer next time in Newsie square

There, now he was done. Looking at the list he realized it didn’t make him feel anymore organized. It was a gumble of vague deadlines and he was certain that there were things missing. The thought alone made him want to curl on on the couch and call it a night. But no, that’s how he got in this mess in the first place. He had to start somewhere, he’d start with the manuscript. It wasn’t too tedious and he genuinely liked working with Medda, she paid handsomely too now that the theatre was booming. His mother hadn’t been too happy when she realized he was working a theatre job, no one was. A man of his caliber could have been a teacher’s assistant by  now, he’d tainted his reputation working in entertainment, it was a poor man's job. All things he’s heard before, heard recently and will probably hear in the future. He’s worked for Medda since he was a Newsie. Little writing jobs here and there, analytical pieces, costume mending--he’s even done a bit of acting himself. He smiled as his mind floated back to his 

“Acting days”, it was funny to think of it like that when it felt like it was only yesterday. He remembers getting prettied up in the dressing room with the bowery beauties. He kissed one of them that night after the show. God Jack had been so mad to see his lips smudged with red..

Davey let out a soft chuckle. Is this what getting older was? Constantly reminiscing on the past? He wasn’t even old yet. Sure he had acquaintances his age already settled down with kids, but that didn't make them old. He kinda did have a kid to be fair. He’s sure he would’ve been right on that track too hadn’t he met Jack.

Davey always looked, at men, at women. His eyes always tended to linger on a woman’s lips or a gentlemans’ rear a bit longer than socially acceptable. He hid his looking behind books,grades,housework, obedience. It was the safest for him to just show no interest in anyone. But he had fancied a few girls here and there, he wanted to court one of them. Then his dad’s leg got messed up, then money grew scarce, then he became a Newsie and then he was thrusted into the hurricane of Jack Kelly. Hurricanes were dangerous, Davey knew this. But Jack had a way of softening it, making the harsh rain seem pretty. 

Davey got swept in before he knew what was happening. Him and Les ended up right by Jack’s side in the most pivotal moment of Newsie history. So of course, they started to hang out more regularly. It started off innocent enough, it really did. Davey had no intentions of being immodest. But Jack Kelly was known for many things, one being that he could bring out the whore in almost anyone. Three weeks. He lasted three weeks of keeping his distance. That was before Jack had turned scab and they ended up in an alleyway. Jack gripped his jaw to shut him up and it was go go go from there. Davey swallowed and shifted in his seat, this was not the time to get all bothered about this, he still had a manuscript to read. He forced himself off the couch for the second time and walked over to the bookshelf where he left it.

He was embarrassed with how long it took him to find it, that definitely reflected the state of his bookcase and the last time he worked on it. He eyed the couch but decided against it, doing work where he slept never ended well. The table would have to do. He took his seat and flipped open the book, he bit his lip and squinted. This couldn’t be right, he’d annotated this page a few days ago...

He took a closer look.

“Fuck!”he groaned, throwing his head back. 

He brought home the wrong one, no wonder it looked different. It was an actor’s copy. How could he be so careless? He closed the copy and slid it across the table. He didn’t have his manuscript and now this actor didn’t have their script. He’d have to make a stop by the theatre tomorrow. The walk to the Bowery from Manhattan wasn’t terribly long, but it definitely wasn’t in his schedule. Les would just have to walk to school tomorrow with one of his buddies so Davey could get it out of the way. Davey sighed and began unbuttoning his waistcoat, it was late and he was frustrated, might as well call it a night. He slid it off of his shoulders and let it fall to the floor, it was an older one anyways. 

He untucked his shirt from his trousers and made his way back over to the couch, he couldn’t be bothered to put his pajamas on. He knew he should wash up and clean up and eat something, but he kind of wanted to wallow in his defeat for a bit, maybe read a book. Or stare at the wall, or punch it, or scream. He sighed, too much had happened for just one day. Les was rebelling, he’d reconnected with Racetrack,grabbed the wrong script and Jack Kelly, man of mystery had waltzed right back into his life. He shook his head at that, anyone would deserve a lay down after this day. 

He grabbed the blanket folded over the top of the couch and wrapped it around himself. Les was definitely going to Sarah’s this weekend, they both needed the space and Davey needed his mattress. But all the logistics could be sorted out in the morning, right now he could feel a heaviness in his bones that meant it was time to sleep. He laid his head on his pillow, if he scrunched his eyes tight enough he was still sixteen, he wasn’t dealing with an ornery teen and a potential midlife crisis no--he had just met the famous Jack Kelly, had just organized the strike...he smiled to himself and snuggled closer against his pillow.