The Rose of Yesterday and Today
By 4ever
Prelude
I remember the day very clearly. It was grey and rainy. The shower had already drenched my hair so that it hung in balck straggly locks. I tried to fix him with a blazing look, but I could never be sure if my green eyes ever managed to blaze. He dragged me along angrily muttering words to himself and occasionally to me. I kicked him hard in the shin. He turned to me fuming, his grip tightened on my arm.
"I can't deal with you anymore. You just don't understand," he told me.
The only emotion I could feel was anger. I hated him. I hated Spot Conlon. Finally we seemed to reach his destination. Dragging me up the steps of the building I tried to think how I had gotten into this mess.
"Jack!" he began to holler, his hand still tight on my arm. "Jack get down here right now!"
A tall boy came down the steps. He seemed to survey the scene with a grim air.
"She's staying here," Spot said, finally releasing my arm.
"I am not!"
"You'll do what I tell you!"
"You can't tell me to do anything!"
"Yes I can! If it weren't for me you wouldn't be alive now! You couldn't have survived on your own!"
"I could have! I never asked for your help!"
"Listen to me." Spot took my head in his hands. I could feel his thumbs pressing behind my ears, like he wanted to crush my skull. "Stealing is not the right way." He said his voice finally under control. "You are going to stay here until you learn that."
"I am not. I will not and you can't make me," I said, my determination matching his own.
"Yes you will," he said and left.
Part I
It had been two years since that fateful day when I joined the Manhattan newsies. The first months were not easy for anyone. I ran away time and time again only to be brought back, kicking and screaming to the lodging house by one of the Brooklyn newsies that Spot had sent to watch me. And then finally I had settled down, and gotten used to it, and maybe even started to like it a little. The newsies, whom I hated at first, started to be my friends and their home, my home. Slowly, slowly the story came out. About how I had been a thief and picked Spot's pocket. He had caught me in the act and tried to reform me. But let's just say I wasn't about to be reformed, especially by Spot Conlon. He had finally had enough of me and taken me to his friend, Jack Kelley. Who seemed to be the exact opposite of Spot. The Manhattan newsies' way was kindness not force and it was that, that in the end won me over.
*****************************
The tension on that day was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. It was Spot's first visit since the day he had brought me. He had always avoided the lodging house meeting with Jack only in Brooklyn or some other place far away from me.
I hadn't been expecting him to come, but as I descended the stairs that morning there he was, talking to Jack, as if the two years hadn't even passed. I looked at him. Was he exactly the same? Only at first galnce, looking closer I noticed he was taller, almost as tall as Jack now. And not half as scrawny. I almost smirked in satisfaction remembering the Spot of older years. He still carreid himself with the same pompous self assured walk, I thought the bitterness creeping into me.
"Spot," I said; my voice conveying all the hatred and dislike that I still felt for him.
"Rose," he said; his tone mirroring my own.
"Ahh so this is the famouse Rose." I heard a voice with a phony french accent exclaim. From behind Spot I saw a boy, with slick black hair and the slightest trace of a moustache, step out. "I am sure she is just as sweet as the flower for which she is named," he said, taking my hand.
"With just as many thorns." I heard Spot mutter.
"Pierre," Jack said quickly," is the newest Brooklyn newsie."
"Oh," I said glancing at Spot, suprised the coldness in my voice hadn't frozen him by now. "I hope you give him a warm reception, like always." I tacked the last note on in malice.
An unknown expression flashed across Spot's face, as I turned back to Pierre.
"You'll have to excuse Spot's manners," I told Pierre," he doesn't have any."
"Ha, ha," Pierre laughed, turning back to Spot, he said " she has, shall we say, dissed you?" he asked.
Spot turned back to Jack. I moved to leave.
"Ahh, you are not going so soon madmoiselle," Pierre said.
"I'm afraid I have to," I said.
"Yep she's a working girl, now," Jack said, tacking on the last word with a considerate glance at Spot.
"The papes won't sell themselves," I said walking out the door into the bright sunshine.
***************************************
"Spot you sent her here," Jack said.
"I know. She wouldn't listen to me and I couldn't have her there," Spot said rubbing his temples.
"Spot I told you first thing, right of the bat, that this wasn't going to help."
"I know and I was stupid and didn't listen."
"Stupid and pigheaded and selfish not to mention immature--"
"Enough!" Spot yelled. "I know what I did wrong. I should never have sent her away and now I'm sorry for it." He paused. " I need your help. I need her back."
Jack sighed," she hates you, you know."
"I know," Spot said, and then he lay his head on the counter, and for the first time that Jack could remember, cried. "I know," he said again.
*************************************
The sun shone brightly at the distribution center and not even Spot could a damper on my mood.
"Hey Rose."
"Hey Mush," I said.
"Fifty papes please," he said.
"How's it going?" I asked as we walked down the steps.
"Pretty good and you?"
"Hey Rose!" David and Les said, as they bounded up the steps.
"A little late today?" I called after them.
"Just a little," David called to me.
"What were you saying Mush?"
"Uh nothing," he said smiling. I shrugged.
"See you tonight," I called to all the newsies.
"See you," they chorused back to me.
***************************************
"Hey Pierre," I said, coming into the lodging house that night.
"Hello Rose. Um.... how do you say Spot is waiting for you, in the kitchen. He wants to um.. talk to you," Pierre said.
"Sure," I said, walking quickly into the kitchen, to get it over with.
Spot and Jack were both sitting at the table. I glanced towards Ruth's corner to see her the remains of our hastily straigtened living quarters. The kitchen was small.
"Rose, why don't you sit down? We have something to tell you," Jack said.
"We?" I said quickly, looking at Spot, as if to say what have you done to me now.
Again, the unknown expression flashed over his face. And I remained standing. Jack stood up and began pacing the room. Spot seemed to be very busy examining his fingers.
"What's going on?" I said. My voice sounded suprisingly stern.
Finally Spot looked up and said," we've talked it over and decided that the best thing for you to do right now would be to come to Brooklyn with me."
"What?" I stuttered, an enourmous pithole opening in my heart. "Jack what's going on?" I turned to him with pleading eyes, but he didn't answer me.
Instead Spot said," can I have a couple moments alone with Rose?"
"No!" I said. "What's going on?"
"Same as ever you haven't changed," Spot said his voice filled with bitterness.
"Okay I'm leaving you two now," Jack said, moving for the door.
"Stay!" I said. Jack came and took my shoulders.
In a low voice, so that I couldn't be sure if Spot even heard, he said to me," everything is going to be alright. Just listen to him and we'll work everything out." He said in the comforting tone that he was so famous for.
"Please stay," I said, a tear finally escaping my eye. He kissed me on the forehead and left.
Spot waited a few moments. "Rose," he said, hesitantly. I wouldn't turn to meet him. I wouldn't look at him. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me. Jack had abandoned me. Everyone had abandoned me and there was Spot sitting at the table.
"What do you want now, Conlon?" I asked finally turning to him.
He stood, that unknown expression fixed on his face. "Please listen to what I have to say," he started. I turned to him, completely unaware of what he was going to tell me. "I don't go around taking thieves in and trying to reform them," he told me. The stone expression on my face remained unchanged. He took a step towards me. "When I first saw you I knew right then," he stopped.
I looked at him. "Knew what?" I asked, in my unmerciful tone.
"That you were the one I was going to love."
My head started spinning. Here was Spot Conlon, my arch enemy, telling me that he loved me.
"So I took you in," Spot said, speaking quicker now. "I tried to show you that stealing wasn't the right way."
"Tried to show me?" I choked out the words.
"Yes," he said," but you wouldn't listen and I couldn't make you and when you were around me I couldn't control myself." My hand gripped the wall. " So I sent you to Jack."
"You dragged me to Jack," I said.
"I had no choice," he said," I needed you and I couldn't have you stealing and I couldn't send you away and I couldn't watch how you hated me."
"But you sent me away... It was your fault."
He looked at me and then said," I hoped it would go away and that I was wrong. But I can't make it. I love you and I need you in Brooklyn with me," he finally finished.
I was keeled over, hugging my stomach to my knees and suddenly I straigtened. "Spot," I said, " you are the last person on earth I could ever love. If you had really loved me you wouldn't have hurt me so much. You wouldn't have sent me away. I will not come back to Brooklyn with you. You sent me away to Manhattan and now I'm going to stay here," I said, suprised at the meaness in my own words and even more at the hurt looked in Spot's eyes as if I had really stabbed him.
"I see," he said, his face ghostly white. He walked out of the kitchen, out of the lodging house, and out of my life. I sank down leaning against the wall and sobbing. All I could think of was how much I hated Spot Conlon. I didn't even realize when Jack came to put his arms around me.
"It hurts," I told him. "Why does it hurt so much?"
"Nobody said it wouldn't."
Part II
"I think you should go," Racetrack said.
"This is not a group descision here," I said, crossly.
Jack, Racetrack, Kid Blink, Mush, David, Forever and I were all gathered around the kitchen table.
"I can't believe you said no," Kid said.
"No comments from the peanut gallery," I said, suprised at how easily it was for me to talk about it.
"Isn't this supposed to be a poker game?" Jack said, reproachfully.
"Having a hard time playing Switzerland, Jacky-boy?" Racetrack asked. (anachronism, sorry I couldn't resist)
"I have no trouble being Switzerland," Jack said. "Spot is a good guy," he said to me, and would have said more had he not received a stern look from Forever.
Good old Ruth, she was the only girl at the lodging house when I came and now we were the only two girls. "Spot is a pigheaded jerk and I don't want to discuss him, understand?" I said.
"I fold," David said.
"Me too," Mush slapped down his cards.
I took a look at mine. "Me three," I said.
"He's really not that bad," Kid said.
"Grrrrr!"
"Okay!"
**************************************
Back in Brooklyn Spot was engaged in his favorite past time. The sound of the bottles cracking gave him particular pleasure this time. His mind roamed over his meeting with Rose as he took his next shot.
"Ow!" The marble went flying past and hit another newsie, but one look from Spot quelled his complaints.
A black haired girl came up to Spot. "Anything you want to talk about?" she said.
"No."
"Listen I heard about what happened from Pierre and well you know she doesn't deserve you so why don't you just forget about her," the girl said, putting her arm around Spot.
He pushed her away. "No."
"I don't understand."
"She was right. It's my fault... I don't know what to do."
The black haired girl sighed, shrugged and turned away to leave Spot alone. He had been acting so weird lately!
*********************************
Time passed, almost a whole month, and this time Spot didn't stay away. Seated on the floor in the lodging house, Rose was telling a story to Les about dragons, knights and fair ladies all living in a time so far away. Spot came in looking for Jack and found only Rose. He felt an unexpected warmth flow through him as he watched her. She was so wrapped up in her story she hadn't heard him come in.
Finally he interupted. "Does he get the girl?" Spot asked.
Rose's head whipped around. "What do you want?" she asked.
"To hear the end of the story."
"Then why did you interupt?"
"So you would know I was here."
"Come on Rose, tell me the ending," Les said, his face aglow.
"Please?" Spot said, in a voice which cause an unexpected pang in Rose's heart.
"I don't remember the ending," she said, getting up and dumping a dissapointed Les out of her lap.
"Rose, please," Spot said, not talking about the story anymore. He lay a hand on Rose's shoulder and for a second he thought she was actually going to speak to him.
But then she shook her head and ran downstairs.
"Girls!" Les said, in that tone which only young boys have.
"Yeah," Spot said.
************************************
It was late at night. Spot sat on the pier. He knew he should go to the lodging house. So that his friends wouldn't be worried, but he needed to hear the lapping of the water against the wooden dock. Suddenly, he stiffened. There was a creaking sound and then something came tumbling down on his head and the world went black.
***********************************
"Rose, I have to go down to the hospital. If anyone asks cover for me," Jack said.
"The hospital! What's going on?"
"A pier collapsed. Spot was there. Now he's in a coma." Jack didn't even have time to regret the words leaving his mouth. Rose had this far away look in her eyes.
"Rose!" Jack grasped her shoulders," Rose! Snap out of it! I need you to be strong, okay? Don't let the others know."
"Is he going to be alright?" Jack stopped suprised at the strange tone of Rose's voice. He looked closely at her. She was white as a ghost.
"C'mon," he said, grabbing her and taking her out into the night's cold air.
***********************************
"But you have to let us see him," Jack pleaded with one of the nurses.
"I'm sorry family only. That's the rule."
"Please, he doesn't have any family," Rose said, her face still white as a sheet.
The nurse took a long look at Rose. "Five minutes," she said.
The two newsies darted inside the room.
"Spot," Rose choked out the word.
He lay on a dingy hospital bed, reserved for unpaying customers. One side of his face was badly bruised. His leg hung in the air, suspended by a sling and a bandage was wound tight around his head.
Rose proceeded towards the bed and Jack hung back, watching the scene. Taking Spots hand, she started talking completely oblivious to Jack's presence.
Her mind roamed over every moment of her time with Spot. Tears came to her eyes as she thought about how she had hated him. What had happened? Had it taken this to open up her eyes and show her that she was wrong? Her feelings had been real. She really had disliked him at first. But somewhere during that month after his first visit and his second her feelings had changed. Her hatred had dissapeared and all that was left was a shell of her initial feelings. She couldn't even understand why it had happened. Actually she could. It was because of Spot. Because when he had come to visit her he had smiled and spoke kindly, instead of yelling like he used to. He had caught her off guard and open and she had fallen in love with him. But now it was too late. Had she not been so foolish in denying her feelings and keeping up the false charade maybe this wouldn't have happened. But at the same time Rose realized that because of her denial and what she had done she couldn't stay here. She couldn't go to the Brooklyn newsies and talk to them about Spot and find out what had happened in the two years since she had left. She couldn't reminisce with Jack and the others about the old times. She had willingly left Spot's life and now she had to wait for him to let her back in. Now she could only do one thing and so she took a deep breath.
"I never meant to hurt you," she said. There was no response but Spot's labored breathing. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize. I didn't see," Rose said, tears starting to come down her cheeks. She looked down at the lifeless hand she held in her own. Suddenly the fingers of Spot's hand curled around her own. She felt the warmth of them race up through her arm and into her heart. Then the nurse came to tell them it was time to go and Jack led her slowly away.
Epilogue
Rose bounced down the lodging house steps, but stopped short when she saw the scene before her. Jack was talking to Spot. There were still traces of bruises on his face, but other than that he was the same old Spot.
"Spot."
"Rose."
A strange silence filled the room as the two of them gazed at each other completely unaware of any other presence.
"Can I talk to you alone?" Spot said, finally breaking the silence.
Rose nodded and the two of them walked into the kitchen. Spot walked to window and gazed out for a couple minutes. Then he turned to Rose. She examined him carefully. The limp in his leg was only slight and she knew he had probably ditched the crutch a little too soon. His face was still as handsome as ever even with the bruises. Handsome? Had she just said that about Spot Conlon?
"When I was in a coma I had this dream," Spot said. Rose looked up. "I dreamt that you were there with me and you had forgiven me, but when I woke up you weren't." Rose looked down and then up again.
She took a deep breath. "It wasn't a dream," she said softly.
Spot took a step towards her and then suddenly her head was in his hands like that day so long ago. "I prayed that it was real everyday," he said.
Rose said nothing. She just gazed at him. Tears sprang to Spot's eyes. "Everything is going to be okay," she said. Spot looked at her. He remembered that day when he had given up hope of her ever loving him and here she was in his arms.
"I've waited," he said," for so long..." his voice trailed off.
"But it's all over now," Rose said,"everything is going to be okay," she repeated the reassuring words.
Spot smiled and as Rose gazed up at him she wondered how she had ever hated him.
"Oh by the way," she said," the guy got the girl."
"Huh?"
"In the story."
"Oh, so it was a happy ending."
"The happiest," Rose said, kissing him.
By 4ever
Prelude
I remember the day very clearly. It was grey and rainy. The shower had already drenched my hair so that it hung in balck straggly locks. I tried to fix him with a blazing look, but I could never be sure if my green eyes ever managed to blaze. He dragged me along angrily muttering words to himself and occasionally to me. I kicked him hard in the shin. He turned to me fuming, his grip tightened on my arm.
"I can't deal with you anymore. You just don't understand," he told me.
The only emotion I could feel was anger. I hated him. I hated Spot Conlon. Finally we seemed to reach his destination. Dragging me up the steps of the building I tried to think how I had gotten into this mess.
"Jack!" he began to holler, his hand still tight on my arm. "Jack get down here right now!"
A tall boy came down the steps. He seemed to survey the scene with a grim air.
"She's staying here," Spot said, finally releasing my arm.
"I am not!"
"You'll do what I tell you!"
"You can't tell me to do anything!"
"Yes I can! If it weren't for me you wouldn't be alive now! You couldn't have survived on your own!"
"I could have! I never asked for your help!"
"Listen to me." Spot took my head in his hands. I could feel his thumbs pressing behind my ears, like he wanted to crush my skull. "Stealing is not the right way." He said his voice finally under control. "You are going to stay here until you learn that."
"I am not. I will not and you can't make me," I said, my determination matching his own.
"Yes you will," he said and left.
Part I
It had been two years since that fateful day when I joined the Manhattan newsies. The first months were not easy for anyone. I ran away time and time again only to be brought back, kicking and screaming to the lodging house by one of the Brooklyn newsies that Spot had sent to watch me. And then finally I had settled down, and gotten used to it, and maybe even started to like it a little. The newsies, whom I hated at first, started to be my friends and their home, my home. Slowly, slowly the story came out. About how I had been a thief and picked Spot's pocket. He had caught me in the act and tried to reform me. But let's just say I wasn't about to be reformed, especially by Spot Conlon. He had finally had enough of me and taken me to his friend, Jack Kelley. Who seemed to be the exact opposite of Spot. The Manhattan newsies' way was kindness not force and it was that, that in the end won me over.
*****************************
The tension on that day was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. It was Spot's first visit since the day he had brought me. He had always avoided the lodging house meeting with Jack only in Brooklyn or some other place far away from me.
I hadn't been expecting him to come, but as I descended the stairs that morning there he was, talking to Jack, as if the two years hadn't even passed. I looked at him. Was he exactly the same? Only at first galnce, looking closer I noticed he was taller, almost as tall as Jack now. And not half as scrawny. I almost smirked in satisfaction remembering the Spot of older years. He still carreid himself with the same pompous self assured walk, I thought the bitterness creeping into me.
"Spot," I said; my voice conveying all the hatred and dislike that I still felt for him.
"Rose," he said; his tone mirroring my own.
"Ahh so this is the famouse Rose." I heard a voice with a phony french accent exclaim. From behind Spot I saw a boy, with slick black hair and the slightest trace of a moustache, step out. "I am sure she is just as sweet as the flower for which she is named," he said, taking my hand.
"With just as many thorns." I heard Spot mutter.
"Pierre," Jack said quickly," is the newest Brooklyn newsie."
"Oh," I said glancing at Spot, suprised the coldness in my voice hadn't frozen him by now. "I hope you give him a warm reception, like always." I tacked the last note on in malice.
An unknown expression flashed across Spot's face, as I turned back to Pierre.
"You'll have to excuse Spot's manners," I told Pierre," he doesn't have any."
"Ha, ha," Pierre laughed, turning back to Spot, he said " she has, shall we say, dissed you?" he asked.
Spot turned back to Jack. I moved to leave.
"Ahh, you are not going so soon madmoiselle," Pierre said.
"I'm afraid I have to," I said.
"Yep she's a working girl, now," Jack said, tacking on the last word with a considerate glance at Spot.
"The papes won't sell themselves," I said walking out the door into the bright sunshine.
***************************************
"Spot you sent her here," Jack said.
"I know. She wouldn't listen to me and I couldn't have her there," Spot said rubbing his temples.
"Spot I told you first thing, right of the bat, that this wasn't going to help."
"I know and I was stupid and didn't listen."
"Stupid and pigheaded and selfish not to mention immature--"
"Enough!" Spot yelled. "I know what I did wrong. I should never have sent her away and now I'm sorry for it." He paused. " I need your help. I need her back."
Jack sighed," she hates you, you know."
"I know," Spot said, and then he lay his head on the counter, and for the first time that Jack could remember, cried. "I know," he said again.
*************************************
The sun shone brightly at the distribution center and not even Spot could a damper on my mood.
"Hey Rose."
"Hey Mush," I said.
"Fifty papes please," he said.
"How's it going?" I asked as we walked down the steps.
"Pretty good and you?"
"Hey Rose!" David and Les said, as they bounded up the steps.
"A little late today?" I called after them.
"Just a little," David called to me.
"What were you saying Mush?"
"Uh nothing," he said smiling. I shrugged.
"See you tonight," I called to all the newsies.
"See you," they chorused back to me.
***************************************
"Hey Pierre," I said, coming into the lodging house that night.
"Hello Rose. Um.... how do you say Spot is waiting for you, in the kitchen. He wants to um.. talk to you," Pierre said.
"Sure," I said, walking quickly into the kitchen, to get it over with.
Spot and Jack were both sitting at the table. I glanced towards Ruth's corner to see her the remains of our hastily straigtened living quarters. The kitchen was small.
"Rose, why don't you sit down? We have something to tell you," Jack said.
"We?" I said quickly, looking at Spot, as if to say what have you done to me now.
Again, the unknown expression flashed over his face. And I remained standing. Jack stood up and began pacing the room. Spot seemed to be very busy examining his fingers.
"What's going on?" I said. My voice sounded suprisingly stern.
Finally Spot looked up and said," we've talked it over and decided that the best thing for you to do right now would be to come to Brooklyn with me."
"What?" I stuttered, an enourmous pithole opening in my heart. "Jack what's going on?" I turned to him with pleading eyes, but he didn't answer me.
Instead Spot said," can I have a couple moments alone with Rose?"
"No!" I said. "What's going on?"
"Same as ever you haven't changed," Spot said his voice filled with bitterness.
"Okay I'm leaving you two now," Jack said, moving for the door.
"Stay!" I said. Jack came and took my shoulders.
In a low voice, so that I couldn't be sure if Spot even heard, he said to me," everything is going to be alright. Just listen to him and we'll work everything out." He said in the comforting tone that he was so famous for.
"Please stay," I said, a tear finally escaping my eye. He kissed me on the forehead and left.
Spot waited a few moments. "Rose," he said, hesitantly. I wouldn't turn to meet him. I wouldn't look at him. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me. Jack had abandoned me. Everyone had abandoned me and there was Spot sitting at the table.
"What do you want now, Conlon?" I asked finally turning to him.
He stood, that unknown expression fixed on his face. "Please listen to what I have to say," he started. I turned to him, completely unaware of what he was going to tell me. "I don't go around taking thieves in and trying to reform them," he told me. The stone expression on my face remained unchanged. He took a step towards me. "When I first saw you I knew right then," he stopped.
I looked at him. "Knew what?" I asked, in my unmerciful tone.
"That you were the one I was going to love."
My head started spinning. Here was Spot Conlon, my arch enemy, telling me that he loved me.
"So I took you in," Spot said, speaking quicker now. "I tried to show you that stealing wasn't the right way."
"Tried to show me?" I choked out the words.
"Yes," he said," but you wouldn't listen and I couldn't make you and when you were around me I couldn't control myself." My hand gripped the wall. " So I sent you to Jack."
"You dragged me to Jack," I said.
"I had no choice," he said," I needed you and I couldn't have you stealing and I couldn't send you away and I couldn't watch how you hated me."
"But you sent me away... It was your fault."
He looked at me and then said," I hoped it would go away and that I was wrong. But I can't make it. I love you and I need you in Brooklyn with me," he finally finished.
I was keeled over, hugging my stomach to my knees and suddenly I straigtened. "Spot," I said, " you are the last person on earth I could ever love. If you had really loved me you wouldn't have hurt me so much. You wouldn't have sent me away. I will not come back to Brooklyn with you. You sent me away to Manhattan and now I'm going to stay here," I said, suprised at the meaness in my own words and even more at the hurt looked in Spot's eyes as if I had really stabbed him.
"I see," he said, his face ghostly white. He walked out of the kitchen, out of the lodging house, and out of my life. I sank down leaning against the wall and sobbing. All I could think of was how much I hated Spot Conlon. I didn't even realize when Jack came to put his arms around me.
"It hurts," I told him. "Why does it hurt so much?"
"Nobody said it wouldn't."
Part II
"I think you should go," Racetrack said.
"This is not a group descision here," I said, crossly.
Jack, Racetrack, Kid Blink, Mush, David, Forever and I were all gathered around the kitchen table.
"I can't believe you said no," Kid said.
"No comments from the peanut gallery," I said, suprised at how easily it was for me to talk about it.
"Isn't this supposed to be a poker game?" Jack said, reproachfully.
"Having a hard time playing Switzerland, Jacky-boy?" Racetrack asked. (anachronism, sorry I couldn't resist)
"I have no trouble being Switzerland," Jack said. "Spot is a good guy," he said to me, and would have said more had he not received a stern look from Forever.
Good old Ruth, she was the only girl at the lodging house when I came and now we were the only two girls. "Spot is a pigheaded jerk and I don't want to discuss him, understand?" I said.
"I fold," David said.
"Me too," Mush slapped down his cards.
I took a look at mine. "Me three," I said.
"He's really not that bad," Kid said.
"Grrrrr!"
"Okay!"
**************************************
Back in Brooklyn Spot was engaged in his favorite past time. The sound of the bottles cracking gave him particular pleasure this time. His mind roamed over his meeting with Rose as he took his next shot.
"Ow!" The marble went flying past and hit another newsie, but one look from Spot quelled his complaints.
A black haired girl came up to Spot. "Anything you want to talk about?" she said.
"No."
"Listen I heard about what happened from Pierre and well you know she doesn't deserve you so why don't you just forget about her," the girl said, putting her arm around Spot.
He pushed her away. "No."
"I don't understand."
"She was right. It's my fault... I don't know what to do."
The black haired girl sighed, shrugged and turned away to leave Spot alone. He had been acting so weird lately!
*********************************
Time passed, almost a whole month, and this time Spot didn't stay away. Seated on the floor in the lodging house, Rose was telling a story to Les about dragons, knights and fair ladies all living in a time so far away. Spot came in looking for Jack and found only Rose. He felt an unexpected warmth flow through him as he watched her. She was so wrapped up in her story she hadn't heard him come in.
Finally he interupted. "Does he get the girl?" Spot asked.
Rose's head whipped around. "What do you want?" she asked.
"To hear the end of the story."
"Then why did you interupt?"
"So you would know I was here."
"Come on Rose, tell me the ending," Les said, his face aglow.
"Please?" Spot said, in a voice which cause an unexpected pang in Rose's heart.
"I don't remember the ending," she said, getting up and dumping a dissapointed Les out of her lap.
"Rose, please," Spot said, not talking about the story anymore. He lay a hand on Rose's shoulder and for a second he thought she was actually going to speak to him.
But then she shook her head and ran downstairs.
"Girls!" Les said, in that tone which only young boys have.
"Yeah," Spot said.
************************************
It was late at night. Spot sat on the pier. He knew he should go to the lodging house. So that his friends wouldn't be worried, but he needed to hear the lapping of the water against the wooden dock. Suddenly, he stiffened. There was a creaking sound and then something came tumbling down on his head and the world went black.
***********************************
"Rose, I have to go down to the hospital. If anyone asks cover for me," Jack said.
"The hospital! What's going on?"
"A pier collapsed. Spot was there. Now he's in a coma." Jack didn't even have time to regret the words leaving his mouth. Rose had this far away look in her eyes.
"Rose!" Jack grasped her shoulders," Rose! Snap out of it! I need you to be strong, okay? Don't let the others know."
"Is he going to be alright?" Jack stopped suprised at the strange tone of Rose's voice. He looked closely at her. She was white as a ghost.
"C'mon," he said, grabbing her and taking her out into the night's cold air.
***********************************
"But you have to let us see him," Jack pleaded with one of the nurses.
"I'm sorry family only. That's the rule."
"Please, he doesn't have any family," Rose said, her face still white as a sheet.
The nurse took a long look at Rose. "Five minutes," she said.
The two newsies darted inside the room.
"Spot," Rose choked out the word.
He lay on a dingy hospital bed, reserved for unpaying customers. One side of his face was badly bruised. His leg hung in the air, suspended by a sling and a bandage was wound tight around his head.
Rose proceeded towards the bed and Jack hung back, watching the scene. Taking Spots hand, she started talking completely oblivious to Jack's presence.
Her mind roamed over every moment of her time with Spot. Tears came to her eyes as she thought about how she had hated him. What had happened? Had it taken this to open up her eyes and show her that she was wrong? Her feelings had been real. She really had disliked him at first. But somewhere during that month after his first visit and his second her feelings had changed. Her hatred had dissapeared and all that was left was a shell of her initial feelings. She couldn't even understand why it had happened. Actually she could. It was because of Spot. Because when he had come to visit her he had smiled and spoke kindly, instead of yelling like he used to. He had caught her off guard and open and she had fallen in love with him. But now it was too late. Had she not been so foolish in denying her feelings and keeping up the false charade maybe this wouldn't have happened. But at the same time Rose realized that because of her denial and what she had done she couldn't stay here. She couldn't go to the Brooklyn newsies and talk to them about Spot and find out what had happened in the two years since she had left. She couldn't reminisce with Jack and the others about the old times. She had willingly left Spot's life and now she had to wait for him to let her back in. Now she could only do one thing and so she took a deep breath.
"I never meant to hurt you," she said. There was no response but Spot's labored breathing. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize. I didn't see," Rose said, tears starting to come down her cheeks. She looked down at the lifeless hand she held in her own. Suddenly the fingers of Spot's hand curled around her own. She felt the warmth of them race up through her arm and into her heart. Then the nurse came to tell them it was time to go and Jack led her slowly away.
Epilogue
Rose bounced down the lodging house steps, but stopped short when she saw the scene before her. Jack was talking to Spot. There were still traces of bruises on his face, but other than that he was the same old Spot.
"Spot."
"Rose."
A strange silence filled the room as the two of them gazed at each other completely unaware of any other presence.
"Can I talk to you alone?" Spot said, finally breaking the silence.
Rose nodded and the two of them walked into the kitchen. Spot walked to window and gazed out for a couple minutes. Then he turned to Rose. She examined him carefully. The limp in his leg was only slight and she knew he had probably ditched the crutch a little too soon. His face was still as handsome as ever even with the bruises. Handsome? Had she just said that about Spot Conlon?
"When I was in a coma I had this dream," Spot said. Rose looked up. "I dreamt that you were there with me and you had forgiven me, but when I woke up you weren't." Rose looked down and then up again.
She took a deep breath. "It wasn't a dream," she said softly.
Spot took a step towards her and then suddenly her head was in his hands like that day so long ago. "I prayed that it was real everyday," he said.
Rose said nothing. She just gazed at him. Tears sprang to Spot's eyes. "Everything is going to be okay," she said. Spot looked at her. He remembered that day when he had given up hope of her ever loving him and here she was in his arms.
"I've waited," he said," for so long..." his voice trailed off.
"But it's all over now," Rose said,"everything is going to be okay," she repeated the reassuring words.
Spot smiled and as Rose gazed up at him she wondered how she had ever hated him.
"Oh by the way," she said," the guy got the girl."
"Huh?"
"In the story."
"Oh, so it was a happy ending."
"The happiest," Rose said, kissing him.