DISCLAIMER, DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters in these works are not
mine. They belong to Disney because I was not smart enough to think of
them first. I am not attempting to claim them as my own, nor am I making
any money off of this venture.
However, Josephine, Maggie, Annabel, Georgia, Mantovanni are mine, and any
other characters you don't recognize from the movie are mine also. I've no
problem with sharing them. But hey, people, stealing is not nice. Ask and
it shall be given unto you.
Eyes Closed, Heart Open
1898, Somewhere in Rural North Carolina
The lights flickered in the car as the train passed yet another unrecognizable town. A small figure of a girl turned over in her seat, her efforts to fall asleep once again failing. She sat up sleepily, blinked her tired eyes and squinted from the flashing lights. She looked out of her window to see the landscape race by. Another town.
"This is the farthest you've ever been," she thought to herself, "the farthest you've ever been from home. You can't turn back now. You just can't."
Every foot, every inch the trained moved was the farthest she'd ever been. She was leaving her past and her life behind her, but not because she'd wanted to. She had no other choice. There was no other choice. Everything was gone. It was all gone, all changed. She had to change with it.
She looked around the dim car at the few other passengers around her and wondered why they were here. What they were leaving, where they were going. She turned her head to the left and saw a group of dark figured huddled together. It was a mother and her two children. A small tear formed at the corner of the girl's left eye, and she let it fall.
"There's no going back. You can't. There's nothing to go back to. Now, just go to sleep. Sleep." She turned over to face the wall and tried, once again and more desperately, to fall asleep.
NEW YORK CITY, MAY 1900
A group of girls was gathered backstage in a line, costume, perfumed, and made up. They were dancers, waiting for their cue to go on. Outside, in the hall of one of the many vaudeville theatres in Brooklyn, the room was alive with applause,the yells and catcalls of the many male patrons. A small, dark girl was at the back of the line. Unlike the other girls, she was quiet, her eyes closed, her painted red mouth silently mouthing words. Her left foot was tapping rhythmically tapping on the floor, tap, tap..tap, tap, tap. A single lily adorned the curls in her dark hair.
Suddenly the band started playing a lively tune, and there was an immediate rustle of skirts and feathers and the clatter of high-heeled shoes on the wooden floor amongst the dancers as they transformed themselves from giggling girls to performers. They began to walk out onto the stage, in perfect time with the music. The last one opened her eyes, as if she had suddenly come to. She plastered her widest, most winning smile across her face and moved with them.
"And now," boomed the announcer's voice, "direct from the Mantovanni Theatre, the Mantovanni Bellas!"
The stage became alive with colour and dancing as the girls grouped in an inverted triangle formation. The small one was at the back, the point of the triangle, almost hidden from view. She stepped in time with them, one, two, three, step, kick, step. They started to sing in perfect harmony,
"My love, you know that you're my love But you don't want my love You don't want my love no more. So now you're gone."
With the word "gone," the crowd of girls parted, to reveal the one in back. The spotlight shone on her, and she flashed a dazzling smile that emitted its own light. "Ladies and Gentlemen," the announcer's voice boomed again, "Miss Lily Fox!"
The crowd exploded in cheers, whistles, and applause. She threw up her arms, lowered her eyelids, cocked her head, and paused, shimmering in the light before she began to sing in her most seductive, honey dripping voice,
"But baby, you're no good for me, You leave me all alone. While you go out wandering I'm crying at home.
So, I won't love you No, I don't need you, I don't want you no more But baby won't you please come home?"
The crowd was on their feet, swaying in time with the music, cheering, shouting for more. An "I love you Lily!" or "Marry me Lily!" could be heard every few minutes. In the back of the house was a group of boys, street urchin, tough-looking boys, newsies, no doubt. They were all cheering and carousing with the crowds, standing, and singing along with the girls. That is all except for one. One lone, serious looking boy was seated, almost in the shadows. He intense expression gave no suggestion that he was enjoying himself as much as his fellow boys, but his eyes followed Lily's every move.
~********~
After the performance, the girls retreated into the backstage dressing room to change and make ready for their evening performance. There was bustle, chatter, and clatter as the girls undressed, brushed their hair, took off their stage makeup, hung up dresses, put on new dresses, and talked amongst themselves. Lily sat alone at a table in the corner. She slowly removed the lily from her hair and put it in a box on the table. She took a white handkerchief and started to remove her red lipstick from her mouth when there was a knock at the door.
It was not uncommon to have visitors bearing gifts of flowers or requesting dinners with the girls after a performance. So this knock was not regarded as anything out of the ordinary. Another of the girls, Annabel answered the door, expecting the usual flowers, candies, or admiring fan. What she found were two tough-looking, strapping boys with no sign of any of the usual gifts.
"Yeah, what do you want?" Annabel asked them.
"We're here tah see Lily Fox," they answered. "Sure, hold on a sec," said Annabel turning inwards toward the room of girls, "Lily, ya got visitors!"
"Who is it? What do they want?" Lily said without turning. "Who are ya? And what do ya want?" Annabel asked the boys. One of them replied, "Spot Conlon wants tah see Lily Fox." Annabel turned back towards Lily, "They says Spot Con.." "Yeah, I heard them," interrupted Lily facing the boys at the door. She got up from her seat and walked over towards the door.
"Which one of you is Spot Conlon?" she asked them. "We ain't Spot Conlon," answered the one on the right, "He sent us here tah say that he wants to sees ya and we came over here to get ya."
"Do you just do whatever this Conlon kid says?" Lily asked them, one eyebrow raised. "Yeah," they answered. "Why?" Lily countered. "Cause he's Spot Conlon, and ya do what Spot Conlon tells ya tah do when he tells ya tah do it," the one on the left replied.
"Oh," said Lily, narrowing her eyes, "well you can just go back and tell Mr. Spot Conlon that when he's man enough to do his own bidding, he can waltz on over here and request the pleasure of my company himself. Goodbye." She went to shut the door, and as it was shutting she heard, "Spot Conlon ain't gonna be too happy wit dat..."
~*~
And he wasn't.
When his boys reported back to him after the unfortunate encounter with Miss Fox, he was sitting in his favourite spot on the Brooklyn piers. It was almost a throne, high and hallowed. After he was told, a strange, almost confused look came over his face. The expression stayed for a few seconds and then transformed into a look of spitting rage. Who did this broad think she was? Did she not know who he was? Did she not know that he was Spot Conlon and that no one told Spot Conlon what he could and could not do? His knuckles began to turn white as he grip around his cane tightened. His jaw clinched.
It was a while before he finally spoke, but when he did, his voice came out in a mutter, almost a growl. "Ain't nobody gonna tell Spot Conlon no," he spat, "Nobody."
~********~
Later that night, almost midnight, after the last performance was over, and the lights on the theatre were shut off, Lily stood at her dresser in her room above the left wing of the stage. She was dressed in her white nightgown, getting ready for bed. She was running a brush through her long raven hair when she looked up into her mirror and saw something moving. A figure, tall and thin, shadowy and slow was coming through the window behind her. She thought to herself, "this is what you get for leaving your window open in New York." She was frightened, but she knew she could not let her panic come through.
Instead, she remained calm and acted as if she had not seen anything. The continued brushing her hair, slowly, with her right hand, while with her left hand, she fumbled over her dresser top, reaching quietly and slowly for something. Suddenly, her fingers found what they were looking for and grasped around a knife. It small and sharp, with a gilded silver handle: a ladies weapon obvious never meant to be used. The gift-giver (Lily couldn't remember who he was, "but God Bless Him anyway," she thought.) probably never imagined that Lily would actually keep it sharp to use if the occasion ever arose. And such occasion was arising over her left shoulder.
The figure approached her, creeping silently. Lily continued on as though she were completely unaware of the happenings behind her, while her hand gripped the weapon tightly. Just as it was upon her, Lily moved the knife behind her back. The figure stopped suddenly, as it came directly upon a knife beginning to poke into its belly. Without turning around, and in the most calm voice imaginable, Lily said, "Now, who are you, and just what the hell do you think you are doing climbing into my bedroom?"
She turned around to face him and found herself looking into the stormy blue-gray eyes of a boy. Her heart stopped beating at that very moment, but not from terror. Something about those eyes, something about the way they pierced right through her and left her breathless. After she'd came to back to herself, she found she was inches away from the face of a tall boy with a gray cap and blonde brown hair falling into his eyes. His face did not show an afraid expression, but his eyes betrayed him with a hint of fear and confusion gleaming in them. He was silent for a moment, and backpedaled and almost stuttered before he said most assuredly, "I'm Spot Conlon, and I can climb into anywheres I damn well please."
Lily's eyes opened wide at the recognition of the name and at the incredible nerve this kid had for marching into her bedroom and stating his right to be there. "I don't believe it," she said incredulously, "the same spineless Spot Conlon that sent his minions earlier to do his bidding is now marching into my bedroom and trying to tell me that he's welcome because he wants to be here. Ha! You've gotta lot of nerve, kid. Now kindly see your way out the way you came in before I alert the entire house of your presence or just decide to use this lovely little toy in my hand to gut you from nose to belly."
She turned away, thinking that surely this kid could not have enough gall to stay a second longer. She put the knife back down on her dresser and picked up her brush again to continue getting ready for bed. When she finally decided it was safe to look up and see if he was completely out of the window, she was beyond surprised with what she saw. Not only had he not completely made it out yet, he was standing there, feet planted to the ground and confident as hell that he was not going anywhere. She laughed as she said, "And somehow you're still here."
"And I ain't leavin'."
"Excuse me?" she said. "Just who the hell do you think you are? Wait, don't answer that. I know the answer. You're Spot Conlon and obviously you're deluded enough to think that the world is your own private playground.."
"I said I ain't leavin.' I'se come in here now because you was rude to me dis aftanoon and wouldn't tawk to me when alls I wanted tah do was tah tell ya that I liked your song."
"You came up here in the middle of the night to tell me that you liked my song?" she asked incredulously.
"Yeah, and dere you go swingin dat thing round, tellin' me you'se gonna slice me open. And I got noive?'
Lily laughed in utter disbelief of what was happening.
"An now youse laughin' at me?" He walked over to her until he was almost in her face. "Ain't nobody laughs at Spot Conlon and gits away wit it!"
"Ain't nobody gets to do anything to Spot Conlon, master of the universe, do they?" Lily retorted.
"Hey." Spot began to yell, but then stopped. The look on his face softened and his voice's tone suddenly changed, "how come ya don't talk like everybody else round here? How come ya don't even talk like ya sing?'
"Excuse me?" This was all getting to be a little to much for her. "One minute you're threatening me with 'ain't nobody talks like dat tah Spot Conlon' and the next you're wondering about my voice? Are you insane?"
"Nah, I'm serious," he said, "ya ain't from round dese parts are ya?"
Lily looked confused, but then her face somewhat fell as she said softly, "No, I came here about two years ago. I'm from, uh, Charleston. South Carolina, you know?" She still clung to her knife as she talked, just incase things took a violent turn and she needed to wave it around in his direction, but her grip was looser now. She fingered it, used it to accent her words. "I, mean, I didn't think I'd ever end up here, but I kind of had to. I didn't have much of a choice." She was talking too much, saying things about herself that no one, especially not the conceited Spot Conlon needed to know. She could feel her cheeks beginning to burn with embarrassment. She stopped talking.
"What?" he asked, "do I scare ya? Go on, don't be fraid of da likes of me. And put dat knife down. Ya making me noivous waving dat think round like that. I ain't gonna hurt ya. I got nothin'. Ya can search me body if ya want."
She laughed again, nervously. She couldn't believe that she was here in her room, talking to some pompous boy about her life and her voice or anything else for that matter.
"So, um, an educated speakin goil like yaself, how did ya end up here, in dis joint? Ya couldn't have done somthin' else?"
"Oh yeah, I'm sure I could," Lily replied, "I could go to work in some factory, slave away all day in some hot shop sewing buttons on men's coats..no, that's not for me. I've got to breathe. So I ended up here. I mean it's not the best, but it's easy for the most part, after you get used to fending off sex craving men's dirty hands and you learn to deal with catty girls who'll hate you if you're given a song to sing and they're not. But the pay's ok, and I've got a roof over my head and food to eat." She sighed. "Truth is, when I left Charleston, I never imagined I'd end up here. New York was some kind of fantasy land to me, somewhere where I'd imagined I could do anything. And then I actually got here and found out that it wasn't. And that all I had was my "pretty" face. So, I got word of this place and came to try out. I got the job because Mr. Mantovanni liked me, or rather, he liked my face and my legs. He spent the first year trying to convince me to become his 'little missus' and have his children so that one of him could take over the theatre instead of his weasely son that he didn't like very much. He gave me my first solo and made me a star. Well, as big of a star as you can get in a place like this."
Spot interjected, "And he gave ya this presidential-like suite thing all by yaself."
"No," Lily continued, "I had a roommate, but she left about three months ago. She got married so some big shot that liked her tits and her pretty rosy face. But that's a different story. So anyway, after Mr. Mantovanni died about a year ago, and his weasel of a son took over, he kept me here because I kept the money rolling in. And how Junior Mantovanni likes his money. So, here I am. I sing and I dance, and I keep the fellows happy."
Spot smile a mischievous smile. "Um so howbouta little private singin and dancin' for me right now?"
Lily shook her head. "Just when I was telling myself that you were as pigheaded as I though you were, you go and prove to me that you are just as pigheaded and cocky as you were the moment you walked in here." She picked up her knife, "Now Spot Conlon, I've said too much, it's late, and I've had just about enough of you for tonight, so get your conceited self back out of my window."
Spot frowned. "Hey, nobody tells Spot Conlon what to do."
"Yeah, yeah, I've heard this story before. But I'm telling you, and my knife will tell you again if you chose not to listen to the first warning."
He threw his hands up and backed away, "Alright, alright, I'm leavin'." He climbed out of her window and sat and the fire escape and said, "You an yer knife have a pleasant night Miss Lily." He began to climb down.
"Hey Conlon!" she called after him. He stopped and looked back in. "It's Josephine."
"Then why the hell you be callin yaself Lily Fox if dat ain't ya name?" he asked.
"Josephine is not exactly a name that catches one's attention and rolls off of one's tongue as well as.." She threw her hand up in the air and said dramatically, "Lily Fox!"
Spot smiled and said, "Josephine." He began climbing down the fire escape as he said "G'night kid!"
Lily ran over to the window as she called out, "Conlon, don't call me kid..." But as she looked down, he was gone. Vanished completely. She shrugged and turned her back to the window, leaning on the sill.
"That kid is going to be trouble," she said to herself, "This conceited, pig-headed, sarcastic kid is going to be more far trouble than he's worth. Josephine, you think by now you'd actually think before getting yourself into situations like this. God, use your head every once in a while. You can't go doing things like this. You've got to stick to your plan. Remember the plan? The plan has got to work. You've gotta make it work this time. You're twenty years old. God, you're not a kid anymore."
She turned back to the window. The moon was out and in its full splendor. It illuminated her face and hand as she reached for the curtain and pulled it back. She looked out onto the empty street, maybe still hoping to see him there. Then she turned her gaze out, toward the city. "One day," she thought to herself, "one day, I'm leaving you behind." She was talking to the city as much as she was talking to herself.
Then, a smile played across her mouth and she touched it. "He does have a nice smile," and then she stopped catching herself, realizing what she was saying. "No, you're tired and delusional. You need to go to bed before you turn into a complete crazy. Just go to sleep. Sleep."
To be continued in Part II...
Eyes Closed, Heart Open
1898, Somewhere in Rural North Carolina
The lights flickered in the car as the train passed yet another unrecognizable town. A small figure of a girl turned over in her seat, her efforts to fall asleep once again failing. She sat up sleepily, blinked her tired eyes and squinted from the flashing lights. She looked out of her window to see the landscape race by. Another town.
"This is the farthest you've ever been," she thought to herself, "the farthest you've ever been from home. You can't turn back now. You just can't."
Every foot, every inch the trained moved was the farthest she'd ever been. She was leaving her past and her life behind her, but not because she'd wanted to. She had no other choice. There was no other choice. Everything was gone. It was all gone, all changed. She had to change with it.
She looked around the dim car at the few other passengers around her and wondered why they were here. What they were leaving, where they were going. She turned her head to the left and saw a group of dark figured huddled together. It was a mother and her two children. A small tear formed at the corner of the girl's left eye, and she let it fall.
"There's no going back. You can't. There's nothing to go back to. Now, just go to sleep. Sleep." She turned over to face the wall and tried, once again and more desperately, to fall asleep.
NEW YORK CITY, MAY 1900
A group of girls was gathered backstage in a line, costume, perfumed, and made up. They were dancers, waiting for their cue to go on. Outside, in the hall of one of the many vaudeville theatres in Brooklyn, the room was alive with applause,the yells and catcalls of the many male patrons. A small, dark girl was at the back of the line. Unlike the other girls, she was quiet, her eyes closed, her painted red mouth silently mouthing words. Her left foot was tapping rhythmically tapping on the floor, tap, tap..tap, tap, tap. A single lily adorned the curls in her dark hair.
Suddenly the band started playing a lively tune, and there was an immediate rustle of skirts and feathers and the clatter of high-heeled shoes on the wooden floor amongst the dancers as they transformed themselves from giggling girls to performers. They began to walk out onto the stage, in perfect time with the music. The last one opened her eyes, as if she had suddenly come to. She plastered her widest, most winning smile across her face and moved with them.
"And now," boomed the announcer's voice, "direct from the Mantovanni Theatre, the Mantovanni Bellas!"
The stage became alive with colour and dancing as the girls grouped in an inverted triangle formation. The small one was at the back, the point of the triangle, almost hidden from view. She stepped in time with them, one, two, three, step, kick, step. They started to sing in perfect harmony,
"My love, you know that you're my love But you don't want my love You don't want my love no more. So now you're gone."
With the word "gone," the crowd of girls parted, to reveal the one in back. The spotlight shone on her, and she flashed a dazzling smile that emitted its own light. "Ladies and Gentlemen," the announcer's voice boomed again, "Miss Lily Fox!"
The crowd exploded in cheers, whistles, and applause. She threw up her arms, lowered her eyelids, cocked her head, and paused, shimmering in the light before she began to sing in her most seductive, honey dripping voice,
"But baby, you're no good for me, You leave me all alone. While you go out wandering I'm crying at home.
So, I won't love you No, I don't need you, I don't want you no more But baby won't you please come home?"
The crowd was on their feet, swaying in time with the music, cheering, shouting for more. An "I love you Lily!" or "Marry me Lily!" could be heard every few minutes. In the back of the house was a group of boys, street urchin, tough-looking boys, newsies, no doubt. They were all cheering and carousing with the crowds, standing, and singing along with the girls. That is all except for one. One lone, serious looking boy was seated, almost in the shadows. He intense expression gave no suggestion that he was enjoying himself as much as his fellow boys, but his eyes followed Lily's every move.
~********~
After the performance, the girls retreated into the backstage dressing room to change and make ready for their evening performance. There was bustle, chatter, and clatter as the girls undressed, brushed their hair, took off their stage makeup, hung up dresses, put on new dresses, and talked amongst themselves. Lily sat alone at a table in the corner. She slowly removed the lily from her hair and put it in a box on the table. She took a white handkerchief and started to remove her red lipstick from her mouth when there was a knock at the door.
It was not uncommon to have visitors bearing gifts of flowers or requesting dinners with the girls after a performance. So this knock was not regarded as anything out of the ordinary. Another of the girls, Annabel answered the door, expecting the usual flowers, candies, or admiring fan. What she found were two tough-looking, strapping boys with no sign of any of the usual gifts.
"Yeah, what do you want?" Annabel asked them.
"We're here tah see Lily Fox," they answered. "Sure, hold on a sec," said Annabel turning inwards toward the room of girls, "Lily, ya got visitors!"
"Who is it? What do they want?" Lily said without turning. "Who are ya? And what do ya want?" Annabel asked the boys. One of them replied, "Spot Conlon wants tah see Lily Fox." Annabel turned back towards Lily, "They says Spot Con.." "Yeah, I heard them," interrupted Lily facing the boys at the door. She got up from her seat and walked over towards the door.
"Which one of you is Spot Conlon?" she asked them. "We ain't Spot Conlon," answered the one on the right, "He sent us here tah say that he wants to sees ya and we came over here to get ya."
"Do you just do whatever this Conlon kid says?" Lily asked them, one eyebrow raised. "Yeah," they answered. "Why?" Lily countered. "Cause he's Spot Conlon, and ya do what Spot Conlon tells ya tah do when he tells ya tah do it," the one on the left replied.
"Oh," said Lily, narrowing her eyes, "well you can just go back and tell Mr. Spot Conlon that when he's man enough to do his own bidding, he can waltz on over here and request the pleasure of my company himself. Goodbye." She went to shut the door, and as it was shutting she heard, "Spot Conlon ain't gonna be too happy wit dat..."
~*~
And he wasn't.
When his boys reported back to him after the unfortunate encounter with Miss Fox, he was sitting in his favourite spot on the Brooklyn piers. It was almost a throne, high and hallowed. After he was told, a strange, almost confused look came over his face. The expression stayed for a few seconds and then transformed into a look of spitting rage. Who did this broad think she was? Did she not know who he was? Did she not know that he was Spot Conlon and that no one told Spot Conlon what he could and could not do? His knuckles began to turn white as he grip around his cane tightened. His jaw clinched.
It was a while before he finally spoke, but when he did, his voice came out in a mutter, almost a growl. "Ain't nobody gonna tell Spot Conlon no," he spat, "Nobody."
~********~
Later that night, almost midnight, after the last performance was over, and the lights on the theatre were shut off, Lily stood at her dresser in her room above the left wing of the stage. She was dressed in her white nightgown, getting ready for bed. She was running a brush through her long raven hair when she looked up into her mirror and saw something moving. A figure, tall and thin, shadowy and slow was coming through the window behind her. She thought to herself, "this is what you get for leaving your window open in New York." She was frightened, but she knew she could not let her panic come through.
Instead, she remained calm and acted as if she had not seen anything. The continued brushing her hair, slowly, with her right hand, while with her left hand, she fumbled over her dresser top, reaching quietly and slowly for something. Suddenly, her fingers found what they were looking for and grasped around a knife. It small and sharp, with a gilded silver handle: a ladies weapon obvious never meant to be used. The gift-giver (Lily couldn't remember who he was, "but God Bless Him anyway," she thought.) probably never imagined that Lily would actually keep it sharp to use if the occasion ever arose. And such occasion was arising over her left shoulder.
The figure approached her, creeping silently. Lily continued on as though she were completely unaware of the happenings behind her, while her hand gripped the weapon tightly. Just as it was upon her, Lily moved the knife behind her back. The figure stopped suddenly, as it came directly upon a knife beginning to poke into its belly. Without turning around, and in the most calm voice imaginable, Lily said, "Now, who are you, and just what the hell do you think you are doing climbing into my bedroom?"
She turned around to face him and found herself looking into the stormy blue-gray eyes of a boy. Her heart stopped beating at that very moment, but not from terror. Something about those eyes, something about the way they pierced right through her and left her breathless. After she'd came to back to herself, she found she was inches away from the face of a tall boy with a gray cap and blonde brown hair falling into his eyes. His face did not show an afraid expression, but his eyes betrayed him with a hint of fear and confusion gleaming in them. He was silent for a moment, and backpedaled and almost stuttered before he said most assuredly, "I'm Spot Conlon, and I can climb into anywheres I damn well please."
Lily's eyes opened wide at the recognition of the name and at the incredible nerve this kid had for marching into her bedroom and stating his right to be there. "I don't believe it," she said incredulously, "the same spineless Spot Conlon that sent his minions earlier to do his bidding is now marching into my bedroom and trying to tell me that he's welcome because he wants to be here. Ha! You've gotta lot of nerve, kid. Now kindly see your way out the way you came in before I alert the entire house of your presence or just decide to use this lovely little toy in my hand to gut you from nose to belly."
She turned away, thinking that surely this kid could not have enough gall to stay a second longer. She put the knife back down on her dresser and picked up her brush again to continue getting ready for bed. When she finally decided it was safe to look up and see if he was completely out of the window, she was beyond surprised with what she saw. Not only had he not completely made it out yet, he was standing there, feet planted to the ground and confident as hell that he was not going anywhere. She laughed as she said, "And somehow you're still here."
"And I ain't leavin'."
"Excuse me?" she said. "Just who the hell do you think you are? Wait, don't answer that. I know the answer. You're Spot Conlon and obviously you're deluded enough to think that the world is your own private playground.."
"I said I ain't leavin.' I'se come in here now because you was rude to me dis aftanoon and wouldn't tawk to me when alls I wanted tah do was tah tell ya that I liked your song."
"You came up here in the middle of the night to tell me that you liked my song?" she asked incredulously.
"Yeah, and dere you go swingin dat thing round, tellin' me you'se gonna slice me open. And I got noive?'
Lily laughed in utter disbelief of what was happening.
"An now youse laughin' at me?" He walked over to her until he was almost in her face. "Ain't nobody laughs at Spot Conlon and gits away wit it!"
"Ain't nobody gets to do anything to Spot Conlon, master of the universe, do they?" Lily retorted.
"Hey." Spot began to yell, but then stopped. The look on his face softened and his voice's tone suddenly changed, "how come ya don't talk like everybody else round here? How come ya don't even talk like ya sing?'
"Excuse me?" This was all getting to be a little to much for her. "One minute you're threatening me with 'ain't nobody talks like dat tah Spot Conlon' and the next you're wondering about my voice? Are you insane?"
"Nah, I'm serious," he said, "ya ain't from round dese parts are ya?"
Lily looked confused, but then her face somewhat fell as she said softly, "No, I came here about two years ago. I'm from, uh, Charleston. South Carolina, you know?" She still clung to her knife as she talked, just incase things took a violent turn and she needed to wave it around in his direction, but her grip was looser now. She fingered it, used it to accent her words. "I, mean, I didn't think I'd ever end up here, but I kind of had to. I didn't have much of a choice." She was talking too much, saying things about herself that no one, especially not the conceited Spot Conlon needed to know. She could feel her cheeks beginning to burn with embarrassment. She stopped talking.
"What?" he asked, "do I scare ya? Go on, don't be fraid of da likes of me. And put dat knife down. Ya making me noivous waving dat think round like that. I ain't gonna hurt ya. I got nothin'. Ya can search me body if ya want."
She laughed again, nervously. She couldn't believe that she was here in her room, talking to some pompous boy about her life and her voice or anything else for that matter.
"So, um, an educated speakin goil like yaself, how did ya end up here, in dis joint? Ya couldn't have done somthin' else?"
"Oh yeah, I'm sure I could," Lily replied, "I could go to work in some factory, slave away all day in some hot shop sewing buttons on men's coats..no, that's not for me. I've got to breathe. So I ended up here. I mean it's not the best, but it's easy for the most part, after you get used to fending off sex craving men's dirty hands and you learn to deal with catty girls who'll hate you if you're given a song to sing and they're not. But the pay's ok, and I've got a roof over my head and food to eat." She sighed. "Truth is, when I left Charleston, I never imagined I'd end up here. New York was some kind of fantasy land to me, somewhere where I'd imagined I could do anything. And then I actually got here and found out that it wasn't. And that all I had was my "pretty" face. So, I got word of this place and came to try out. I got the job because Mr. Mantovanni liked me, or rather, he liked my face and my legs. He spent the first year trying to convince me to become his 'little missus' and have his children so that one of him could take over the theatre instead of his weasely son that he didn't like very much. He gave me my first solo and made me a star. Well, as big of a star as you can get in a place like this."
Spot interjected, "And he gave ya this presidential-like suite thing all by yaself."
"No," Lily continued, "I had a roommate, but she left about three months ago. She got married so some big shot that liked her tits and her pretty rosy face. But that's a different story. So anyway, after Mr. Mantovanni died about a year ago, and his weasel of a son took over, he kept me here because I kept the money rolling in. And how Junior Mantovanni likes his money. So, here I am. I sing and I dance, and I keep the fellows happy."
Spot smile a mischievous smile. "Um so howbouta little private singin and dancin' for me right now?"
Lily shook her head. "Just when I was telling myself that you were as pigheaded as I though you were, you go and prove to me that you are just as pigheaded and cocky as you were the moment you walked in here." She picked up her knife, "Now Spot Conlon, I've said too much, it's late, and I've had just about enough of you for tonight, so get your conceited self back out of my window."
Spot frowned. "Hey, nobody tells Spot Conlon what to do."
"Yeah, yeah, I've heard this story before. But I'm telling you, and my knife will tell you again if you chose not to listen to the first warning."
He threw his hands up and backed away, "Alright, alright, I'm leavin'." He climbed out of her window and sat and the fire escape and said, "You an yer knife have a pleasant night Miss Lily." He began to climb down.
"Hey Conlon!" she called after him. He stopped and looked back in. "It's Josephine."
"Then why the hell you be callin yaself Lily Fox if dat ain't ya name?" he asked.
"Josephine is not exactly a name that catches one's attention and rolls off of one's tongue as well as.." She threw her hand up in the air and said dramatically, "Lily Fox!"
Spot smiled and said, "Josephine." He began climbing down the fire escape as he said "G'night kid!"
Lily ran over to the window as she called out, "Conlon, don't call me kid..." But as she looked down, he was gone. Vanished completely. She shrugged and turned her back to the window, leaning on the sill.
"That kid is going to be trouble," she said to herself, "This conceited, pig-headed, sarcastic kid is going to be more far trouble than he's worth. Josephine, you think by now you'd actually think before getting yourself into situations like this. God, use your head every once in a while. You can't go doing things like this. You've got to stick to your plan. Remember the plan? The plan has got to work. You've gotta make it work this time. You're twenty years old. God, you're not a kid anymore."
She turned back to the window. The moon was out and in its full splendor. It illuminated her face and hand as she reached for the curtain and pulled it back. She looked out onto the empty street, maybe still hoping to see him there. Then she turned her gaze out, toward the city. "One day," she thought to herself, "one day, I'm leaving you behind." She was talking to the city as much as she was talking to herself.
Then, a smile played across her mouth and she touched it. "He does have a nice smile," and then she stopped catching herself, realizing what she was saying. "No, you're tired and delusional. You need to go to bed before you turn into a complete crazy. Just go to sleep. Sleep."
To be continued in Part II...