I've kept it a secret for nine years now. Soon as I came from Ireland. My name was changed as soon as my mother died on the boat. I had her name Patricia, or patty for short. My father said the only way to succeed in America was to be a man. I have heard every single story about me imaginable. The only time that I ever had an issue with not being a girl was on my visa in. I was dressed as a boy my father said I was a boy but my visa said I was a girl. We spent half of our savings on that inspection officer. After I stepped of of Ellis island I never wore a skirt again.
The only thing I have to remember my mother by is her trunk. It is filled with plenty of her skirts and dresses, jewelry and photographs. My father made me promise to never sell any of it. Once we got to the mainland, my father and I found loging in a respectable neighborhood in Manhattan. We lived together there for two years by ourselves. It was a lot of fun, just the two of us. My father still missed my mother though and started to date. Some of the women he dated were nice to him and to me but most were just a facade. He ended up marrying a lovely sweet lady. Or so she seemed. She was horrible to me. Yells, curses and slaps if I displeased her. She hid all from my father which made it even worse. I was seven when she came but eight when I left.
My father wanted to surprise her with a bouquet of flowers that he had bought but instead came inside to find me curled up in aball on the floor and her beating my back with the broom Handle. He simply walked over, picked me up by the scruff of my neck and brought me into the bedroom. He set me down on the bed took the key off of his neck and put it around mine. "This is the key to your mothers trunk. Take it with you where ever you go. I shall try to calm her but it may be best if found some where else far away from Manhattan. I love you!" At that I climbed out the window with an extra set of clothes.
I had always wanted to go across the Brooklyn bridge so right then and there I picked Brooklyn to be my home. I slept in door ways and ally's for awhile. My father always stressed how important it was to protect yourself. Back in Ireland he boxed for sport and taught me everything I know. I could take on older boys and occasionally a drunk if needed. The leader of the Brooklyn boys soon heard about me and sent scouts everywhere to hunt me down. Eventually it took three of his biggest boys to bring me front and center. I didn't go without a fight. They had scratches, bite marks and were getting bruises. As soon as they set me down I front of the leader I swept my cap of my head and went down into a bow. I stood up and without saying a word the leader had named me himself. Spot for my one black eye that wouldn't go away from her. I lived with the Brooklyn newsies and sold papers as news boys are apt to do.
By the time I was twelve I had been with them for three years. My legs had gotten very long and gangley I walked with a swagger of the boys around me and thank God I had almost no chest. I was second to the leader whose name was bear. That gave me some extra protection from being dunked in the water, have my shirt stolen or being pantsed.
Bear was old. Older than any previous leader and he needed to get a new job. One night after everyone had come back to the loging house he announced he was leaving. Cries of outrage and sadness ensued. He held up a hand for silence and announced me the new leader. All eyes shifted to me. I didn't think that this was coming. He tipped his hat to us all gave a slight bow at the waist to me and left.
We were shocked you could have heard a pin drop. the younger boys were looking to me and the older ones were trying to size me up.
"Everyone to bed now! If don't like the management you may leave promptly." A few men did but most stayed, slumped tired sholders bearing the weight of adult lives. Gathering my belongings from the main bunk room was thrilling people; respected me now, a few even feared me.
Now as leader, I had to be tough and mean, proving my strength and fearlessness. I couldn't show emotion or care openly about anyone. on one of my monthly trips home to see my father when I got to the door and knocked no one came. I knocked again and my step mother came to the door.
"We don't have any money for you left, disusting boy!" she snarled at me.
" What do you mean no money? I don't need any!"
"You mean you haven't come about the will?"
"He DIED! How come I didn't know! He was my father!?"
" Yes and now you are my responsibility! You are to come home so you can bring in money. Also,I can set you right." Her eyes gleamed at this. She had obviously heard me tell my father about my position and little gossip from the streets about "the King of Brooklyn". She would be able to tell everyone that she brought the mighty Spot to his fall. It would be through fighting and force if I had my say. I had gone off into a daze and the next thing that I know a mighty THWACK brings me too my knees. I was so suprised that I let out a gasp of pain. It just fuled her even more. Again and again she came down on me I couldn't defend my self without a clear head and that I certantly I did not have. Once she got tired of it she dragged my limp body into the parlor and locked the door. I lay there nursing my wounds as best I could I looked at my back in the mirror. It was criss crossed with marks and cuts that were going to leave scars. She left me with no food or water for several days. Later that week she went out for an afternoon. I managed to pick the lock, grab some food and high tail it out of that apartment; never to come back again. My hold on Brooklyn was good after that as I steeled myself against all past memories.
I have never been on a date, had a first, second or any kiss ever and I haven't worn a skirt in nine years and only twice have my gender almost been revelead. Really only once. The only time I had anything resembling a crush was on a boy named racetrack. He was smart, funny and for a pile of rags, good looking. We were evenly matched at cards, and wits. He tried to talk his way out of every situation, I fought my way out. It was short lived he was and still is the closest thing a leader can have to a friend.
The major time I almost got discovered was thankfully in the summer. All of my boys were swimming in the river. As I was near the edge talking to someone, I felt a hand on my back push me in. The water was freezing cold and very dark. I could swim but not very well and especially not in such strong currents . I quickly regained my senses and dove for the pier. As I came out of the water I saw everyone there standing silently. My shirt was plastered to my body the looseness normally hiding any curves was gone.I had to stay strong until I got back to my room. As I got up the ladder with my arms across my chest,I saw him. The Manhattan leader Jack Kelly Standing with a smirk that slowly disapered as I got closer to him. That was also the only time my boys saw me break down. I walked up to him and stood square in front of him. I had to look up to see him as he was a good foot taller that I but I managed to look imtimidating. Everyone steped back from us in case we fought. I was clenching my jaw so hard my teeth were starting to hurt. He was fidling with his hands ready to block a punch. A low cry escaped from the back of my throat as I started mindlessly hitting him anywhere; not even realizing that he was blocking about half of them. At one point he pushed me back into the water, where I came up and manage to compose myself enough to walk back through everyone to the house and my closet. That night was the first one in years where I let myself go and cry. I cried for everything. Eventually I fell asleep and didn't wake up until after everyone had gone out to sell. Sitting on the ground outside of my room was a present from one of the little girls I let stay with their brothers. It was a scraggly bunch of weeds and a picture and a noteon a scrap of newspaper saying: You are the Greatest! I was touched and still have the note. The picture was of a stick figure person standing there on the bridge with my suspenders and cane with my cap cocked on my head. At that moment i realized I was getting old. I was 18 and needed some stability.I had gone through a strike, deaths and commanded an empire. This is more than most adults have done.
I picked a boy by the name of strike. He was quick on his feet and was almost a good with a slingshot as I. I started to let my hair get a little bit longer. Just enough to tie up under a cap.I located my mothers trunk said good bye to the boys and waked out. Never to be seen or heard from again.
I had a small sum saved up and it was enough to pay rent to a family for use of their back room as logeing. The only things I have kept from my boyhood are the cane and cap. Worn out and threadbare. It took some time getting used to skirts and behaving a bit more ladylike. I also had to get used to not being feared or respected. I was now just another faceless person wandering the streets of New York. I managed to find work at Medda's theater as the set rigger as few people wanted the danger. The first time I saw the newsies again was at a city wide party for all the newsboys. Medda invited me saying I might have fun. And I did. The boys first expected me to drape myself over them as other girls did but I didn't. They Admired me I played cards with almost everyone there at one point or another and in doing so learned a lot. People still were telling stories and rumors about the great Spot Conlon. I looked more feminine now than I ever did but still had the numerous freckles the hard smirk and a killer punch. Jack Kelly was there to see old friends and when he saw me he was stuned.
" I haven't seen green eyes like yours since conlon. You know him?"
" Maybe Yes, maybe no."I slikedly replied. " But he certaintly knew me. He is dead never to come back. I saw him die and you killed him. I have to give you something from him." At that I gave him a hard uppercut to the chin and a jab at his stomach winked at everyone and retreated back to my small room in the apartment. No one knew or knows besides Medda when she said "Hiya Spot!" I am still with medda and waiting for something to happen.