Chapter Text
"Naw…" And all I could do was stare at him. I thought he was joking. I honestly thought he was just pulling my leg. "Naw. Yer kiddin'.
"No, Race."
They ask me all the time. "Why'd ya do it, Race?" they says. "Why'd ya leave?" But the thing is, see, I ain't the only one as went with him. I'm just the only one that stuck it out and stayed. I stuck it out because… Well, because I didn't believe him. We all thought it was some kinda real elaborate joke or somethin', and me… I wanted to know the truth about him for once.
"Naw. No. No, no, no. You're… But… But what about Santa Fe?" And no accent. Where'd his accent go?
"I've been to Santa Fe. There's nothing out there for me. Or here."
We paused a minute and faced off. He knew what he'd said. At the moment, I wasn't sure what hurt more – the fact that we meant nothin' to him after all, or that he'd kept this from us the whole time. Francis Sullivan, Jack Kelly… Just who da heck was this joker, anyways?
"So why'd ya come back, den?" I asked at last. "Huh, Cowboy? Why bodder comin' back?"
He didn't answer for a good while. Just kinda looked at me, up-and-down like. Scrutinizin'. "For the orphans," he says. "My parents were killed when I was young-"
"Save it," I says. "Lotta orphans here, Cowboy. Ya think yer story's worth more'n ours? We's alla us worse off'n dem rich folks. But not you, right?" I turned to leave. "T'ought ya said there was nothin' here for ya, anyways."
This time he answered right quick. "That's why I'm not staying, Race. Look, I know some of you kids are too proud to accept charity. But I also know some of you are fed up with life out here. I wanna help. That's why I came back. Anybody who wants to is welcome to go with me."
I shrugged some, shifted my feet. For some reason I couldn't look him in the eye right then. He'd hit it on the nail, alright. Bunch of us was feelin' a little bit abandoned when he'd took off a couple years back. This news just made it that much worse. After all that, he hadn't even needed to earn his way out like the rest of us.
"Racetrack." He tried to shake me outta my thoughts. Didn't need to. I wasn't that deep in 'em, I just didn't know what ta say. Or did an' didn't want to. "Race, I want you to go with me. There's nothing here for you, either. I've already talked to Spot and Blink. They're coming."
"Good for dem." I could feel my voice shake, so I didn't dare say anything more.
"So?"
"So what?" I said, shruggin' some more. I still wouldn't look at 'im.
"You comin' or what?"
And that's when I heard it. It wasn't that he didn't care 'bout us. Just that he cared about somethin' else more. Somethin' big. And for some strange reason, somethin' inside me wanted to be a part of it. After all, he was right. There wasn't nothin' there holdin' me back. Two a my friends was goin' with. And I'd finally get the answer to prolly the biggest question ever asked: Who is the real Jack Kelly?