AN: This is a totally random and hopefully fun story about Bumlets. I hope you enjoy it- please review and let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies in any sort of way
Ever since Tibby's installed their one -and only, to date- ceiling fan, all Bumlets could do was think about how much fun it would be to twirl around on it. Just grab the blades, tuck his legs up and spin and spin until he got sick, or until the fan fell under his weight. Whichever came first would be fine with him. Tibby's had always had a few fans set up about the dining room, but they were nothing more than common pedestal fans. To Bumlets, they looked more like miniature street lamps with spinning blades where the lights should be. They were tucked away, hidden in the corners of the room, and not in the least bit as glorious as the new ceiling fan.
Bumlets remembered the day it had been delivered to the small restaurant. He had had a particularly good selling day due to a particularly good headline. Something about a prostitute and a politician, if he remembered correctly. With extra pennies, a couple nickels and the dime some old lady had given him out of pity weighting down his pockets, Bumlets had decided to treat himself and Pie Eater to a decent lunch. Pie Eater, never one to turn down a free meal, or a free anything for that matter, happily agreed and the duo made their way to Tibby's.
All the newsies frequented Tibby's as often as the headlines would allow them. The food was good and relatively cheap, and the staff was kindhearted enough to not throw out the boys when they got too loud. Bumlets had been there often enough to witness the deliveries other merchants would drop off to the eatery throughout the day, so a package arriving while he and Pie ate was nothing surprising and generally ignored. He suspected he would have ignored this delivery as well if it hadn't been for the size of it.
It had not been a package being delivered; it had been a crate. A large, wooden one nailed shut and the words "This End Up" painted on the sides in black. It had been large enough to cause Bumlets to pause mid-bite and kick Pie in the shin so he would turn and look as well. Pie Eater's eyes nearly popped out of his head and a brief conversation regarding the sheer size and possible contents had been exchanged between the boys, before turning their attention back to their meals. The crate had been forgotten in lieu of food.
It wasn't until two days later when Bumlets first saw the fan mounted to the ceiling. He and Pie had been selling together that day and had stopped in front of the restaurant so he could light up a smoke. Pie had been looking in the window and was the first to see it.
"Heh, Tibby's must be doin' pretty good business if they can afford one a them ceiling fans. I bet that's what was in that giant crate we seen the other day, Bum!" Pie Eater had said excitedly.
Bumlets dropped his cigarette, crushing the lit end with the toe of his boot and took a step forward for a better view. He pressed his face to the glass- and that was it. He had his new life's goal in that very moment. He now knew what he had to do. Bumlets had to spin from that fan.
Every chance he had from that day on he would walk by Tibby's and stare longingly at the fan through the dirty glass. Bumlets had only been able to afford to eat there once since its installation, and he marveled at the way it spun around and around. He was embarrassed of himself for reacting that way- all fans spun around, its what they did. Not from the ceiling though, he had reasoned as a way to make himself feel better.
It was silly really; his obsession, but he couldn't get the thought out of his head. He had taken to plotting out bizarre tactics and excuses for reasons to fly around on the contraption. They ranged from very simple ideas such as just plain asking for permission to more elaborate plans involving shovels, tunnels, trap doors and late night hours. Bumlets knew he would never actually follow through with any of his plans, but they were fun to think up and it was always nice to have a dream. He eventually came to a realization that he would never get to spin on that fan, but he never stopped wishing he could.
Then the strike happened and he suddenly had more important things to think about. Shortly after the start of the strike, Jack and David met Bryan Denton of the New York Sun and the next thing he knew he was staring at a picture of himself on the front page of the paper.
The newsboys all gathered at Tibby's and had surrounded Jack, who was reading Denton's article out loud. Bumlets couldn't help but notice that Jack had chosen a seat at the table directly underneath his beloved ceiling fan.
Everyone was excited about being in the papers, himself included. The rambunctious boys were practically rioting within the confines of the dining room. Songs were sung, some boys danced, spit shakes all around and shouts of "I'm the king of New York!" echoed throughout the room.
For Bumlets, there was only one thing in the entire world that could make that moment better than it already was. His eyes moved upwards slowly. This was his chance. The opportunity he had been looking for had just been handed to him. Everyone around him was celebrating, it wasn't like he would be stopped. He figured doing it could only add to the celebration.
Bumlets leapt up onto the table, a look of determination on his face. He hesitated only for a moment as he contemplated the best was to grasp the blades of the fan without loosing a hand in process. It seemed to be moving a lot faster than he remembered.
Bumlets breathed in deep and jumped into the air. He grabbed hold of the fan firmly around the middle, each hand on the inside pieces of opposite blades. The fan swayed back and forth, and slowed down under the weight of its new occupant. He tucked his knees up to his chest and the fan started to gain speed. The room blurred as he spun faster and faster, flying high above his friends and cutting through the air like a knife. He closed his eyes and grinned so hard he thought his cheeks would break off if they could.
He could hear the cheers of his friends, individual voices growing louder, then softer, then louder again as he passed them with each rotation. Bumlets wanted to spin forever, but he could hear the fan creaking and knew that if he didn't release his hold and end his fun, the fan would fall from the ceiling. He didn't want to imagine the disastrous results that could produce.
After what felt like only a few seconds, Bumlets loosened his grip and dropped down gracefully to the table below with a resounding thud and a triumphant smile. The newsies all cheered on his performance. Bumlets slid himself off the table, receiving claps on the back and praise all around. The grin refused to leave his face and he had never felt so good in all his life. He did it, his goal finally achieved after so many months of wishful thinking. Bumlets took one last satisfied glance at the ceiling fan and as he did he thought to himself:
"Ya know what guys, I'm the king of New York."
AN: Sorry for the double author's notes, but I had a small story regarding the inspiration for this. I was watching Newsies with my little brother a few days ago, and when KONY finished he said " isn't it funny that there are no ceiling fans till the end when that kid in blue spins." I was like... "WHAT?!" and we watched it again.. and again (cause I had to make sure) and he was right. The only fans in that whole scene are pedestal fans, until the very end when Bumlets does his thing! I even watched it again tonight just so I knew I hadn't been mistaken. Now, word on the streets is that Dominic Lucero- god rest his soul- specifically asked to do his spins on the ceiling fan, so that part was added in. I heard they had to fortify the fan to hold him, but I never heard they actually had to install one! Has anyone else ever noticed this, cause I never did..
So on that note, I would like to dedicate this fic to my younger brother Stephen. Without your astute observation, this fun little fic might never have been. Thanks Steve-o, I love you!