I'll never go back! I can't go back. A small girl panted as she ran through the lonely, dark streets of New York City one cool August night. She ran until she came to a large brick building by the docks of Brooklyn. Letting her exhaustion overpower her, she collapsed on the steps of the building.
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Spot Conlon, the leader of the Brooklyn newsies awoke one morning with a notion in his head that his life would change soon. He knew it was stupid so he pushed it to the back of his mind and went into his washroom to freshen up before he got around to selling his papers that day.
When walked downstairs to get his other newsies up and going, he was met half down by one of his smallest newsies, Squirt. He was a little black kid who couldn't have been older than nine years old. He tugged on Spot's shirt to get his attention.
"Hey, Spot! Nifty found a girl on the step las' night! He wants ya to see 'er! Oh, and Spot, she's a real feisty one!" Squirt had a lisp so all his 's' sounded like 'th'.
"Oh really. Where is Nifty?" he asked as he continued down the steps, the little boy following.
"In the lobby!" Everything he said ended in an exclamation point. He truly admired Spot.
"Ok, thanks, Squirt. Now go do me a favor and wake all the other guys up for me."
"Ok, Spot! Anything you say, sir!" and with that, he ran right back up the steps. Spot laughed to himself. That kid cracks me up.
When he reached the lobby, he found about six of his newsies holding down a small girl of about sixteen. She had shoulder length thick, brown, wavy hair with golden streaks in it. He couldn't tell what her eyes looked like because they were narrowed in slits of hatred.
"Easy, boys. Let the doll breathe." In an instant the guys holding her down got off her and she stood up. Her dress was dirty and old and revealing. It had slits going up the side and a low cut front. Her face was covered in thick make-up and there were streaks of dirt all over it. Crossing her arms across her chest, she glared at him and all the other guys in the room. "So, Nifty, where'd ya get the girl?"
One of the guys that had been holding her down stepped forward. He was a lot taller than Spot but it was clear who was in charge.
"She was just lyin' there on the steps and so I decided to take 'er in cuz she was shiverin'. " The girl had stayed silent until then.
"You son-of-a-bitch better let me go 'er I'll beat the fuckin' crap outta you!" she screamed.
"Wow, the brat's gotta mouth on 'er," Spot said and the others laughed.
"Shut-up, you lousy bastard!" She snapped.
"Hey, watch it!" he growled almost as fierce. They glared each other down for a while then Spot spoke. "Now let's start over. I'm Spot Conlon. Who are you?" She didn't speak. She looked at the other people in the room. Spot took the hint and led her up to his room on the third floor. She followed without a fight. When they reached his private room, he shut the door behind him and locked it.
"Now," he said, turning around, "What's your name?"
"Liz, Liz Neeley." She sat down on the floor and Spot joined her. His room was still dark with his shades pulled down. He lit his lamp to create some light and then sat back down.
"Well, Liz Neeley, where'd you come from and why did one of my newsies find you sleepin' on my stoop?"
"I was, um, running away from home because, um, my stepfather beats me," she lied quickly.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Yeah, sure ya are," she replied sarcastically. She did not want to make peace with this guy that fast. Besides, she wanted to use him to get to a safe haven first.
Spot rolled his eyes. This girl was more trouble than he bargained for but she was beautiful. He just realized how her big brown eyes sparkled in the candlelight and her light brown locks framed her face. He came out of his trance however when he noticed she was staring straight back at him, mocking his stunned expression.
"I'm is takin' you to Manhattan. Looks like you need to start off right. And this ain't no place to start off right. You gotta earn a livin' so your gonna learn from the best. Plus, I couldn't possibly teach you cuz I can't stand your attitude." He stood up and grabbed her arm roughly.
"Yeah, well I can't stand you either, you lousy sonova-"
"Watch yer language!" He paused. "Well, I think that was better...It was 7 sentences before you cursed at me," and he yanked her harder down the steps. She screamed. The newsies from the floor below looked up at them, curiously. Spot glared at them and they backed off.
Screaming will do you no good, wench! The cold words of her past echoed through her head as Spot yanked her down the three flights of stairs. He pulled her out the doorway and down to the water's edge and threw her down on the ground. He was very strong despite his size.
"Wash," he ordered and by the tone in his voice, she didn't argue. She bent down to the water and cupped some in her hands. Her reflection stared up at her. Her make-up was smeared from crying and her eyes were blood shot. There were thick streaks of mud all over her face from sleeping in alleys and such, trying to get away from her low life. She scrubbed her face until the skin was red. She tried to wash away all of her unhappiness but when she was done, it was still there. She stood up and Spot grabbed her again and dragged her all the way to Manhattan.
As they walked, Liz looked up at her captor. He was very good looking and she would agree with herself if he weren't gripping her arm so tightly.
"Hey! I can walk myself you know!" she tried to tear her arm away from him. But his hold was too strong.
"I know," he spat out. He let her arm go but he was very rough in doing so.
She walked slowly behind him. She found herself checking him out. She had to force herself to think about something else. But years of pretending to be interested in men she didn't know were getting the better of her. By the time she had unglued her eyes from the handsome guy in front of her, they had reached the Manhattan Newsies Lodging House.
"Here it is," he said and walked up the front steps. She followed. The inside of this Lodging House wasn't very much, just a desk in one corner and a couple of old worn out couches. He pulled her upstairs, nodding at the old man sitting at the desk.
"Hello, Spot. What brings you here?" he called out after them. Spot stopped.
"I found 'er and I can't keep 'er so I brought 'er here. For Jack." Kloppman nodded again.
"What's her name?"
"Liz Neeley."
"Well, she's gonna have to pay like the rest of 'em."
"She knows. How much money you got?" he said, now to Liz.
"Enough," she said, harshly. She wasn't about to let Spot do anything for her.
"Okay, then." And they continued on their way up the steps.
When they reached the bunkroom, they were met with many boys. "Hey, Jack!" he called. A tall, dirty-blond hair guy stepped out of the washroom. He had a red bandanna tied around his neck. Her immediate reaction was to push out her chest and smooth out her hair. She had to remind herself not to and make herself look more casual.
"Hey, welcome to the Lodgin' House." He smiled at her. She smiled back. "What do ya want Spot?"
"She needs somewhere to stay and I thought that she could stay 'ere cuz I don't got anywhere for 'er. She's runnin' from 'er step father and you need to teach 'er how to sell papes."
"Sure, Spot. What's 'er name?"
"Liz Neeley, but she's feisty as a tiger. And she sure has got a mouth on 'er." She glared at him.
"Then let's call 'er Tiger!" Mush yelled as he came out of the wash room. He jumped in surprise when he realized whom they were talking about. He grinned sheepishly at the beautiful girl.
"I's sorry, miss. My name's Mush Meyers."
"I'm Liz Neeley," she said saucily and winked at Mush. He blushed. Spot shoved him away.
"Now, I don't want any of you to try anything on her while she's here."
"I don't think they're the ones that need the whatchin'," a voice from the wash room doorway said. Liz glared at her. She was tall, skinny, straight blond hair and dazzling green eyes. She glared right in back.
"Hey, hey, easy on her, Sweety. She's new," Jack said. Sweety was his only long time girl friend since Sarah. She had become a newsie to be with Jack.
"Yeah, well she's a slut and I don't want her flirtin' with my man!" Sweety spit out, directed more at Liz than Spot and stormed out of the room. Jack looked uncomfortable. So did Liz.
"She's not usually like this. Really," Jack said.
"Yeah, whatever," Liz said, trying not to cry. "Where's my bed?" She sniffled.
"Right in here," he said and he led her to another room. "Sorry, but there ain't anymore in the main bunkroom and I don't really expect you to wanna sleep with any of these guys," he motioned to the on looking newsies. Won't be anything new to me, she thought. "Well, I got to get to work. You pro'bly want to get settled so I'll come and get you for lunch and we can sell the evening news, okay?"
"Okay," she said. Just then Spot poked his head in the room.
"Hey, Jack. You know you ain't getting' her permanently, she's comin' back to Brooklyn after she knows how to sell, okay?" Jack laughed.
"Sure, Spot," he said and walked out to meet Sweety. Liz just stood there with her mouth open.
"What? I'm goin' back to Brooklyn?"
"Yeah, your mine," he said, egoistically.
"Hey! You can't order me around like that! I ain't doin' nothin' I don't gotta!"
"Well, you do gotta cuz you got to learn how to fight."
"But I can fight!" Spot smirked.
"Yeah right, a puny little thing like you couldn't even defend 'erself against a feather!"
"You wanna say that to my face?" she replied angrily.
"I just did," he said plainly. She glowered at him. "Come on take your best shot!" She charged at him and jumped on his foot, hoping he would bend down and then she could knee him in the face. But he didn't move he didn't even grimace. "What? Didja think I was gonna fall for that?" She didn't want to admit that she did. She finally gave up and slapped him across the face. He looked stunned at first and then laughed. "We got a lotta work to do." And he walked out.
"Aw, go fuck yerself!" she yelled after him. He just laughed harder. Liz was fuming. She sat down on her bed and started unpacking her few treasures from her purse. She had a comb, her cosmetics, an extra dress and her locket. She put the dress into the drawer of the bedside table and arranged the rest on top. There was only a bed and the small table in the closet-sized room. As she looked around, she noticed a door. She opened it and found an even smaller room with a sink and a shower. The shower was only a shallow pit with a piece of cloth attached to the ceiling and a pump at one end. It wasn't much but it was hers. She washed up and changed into her clean dress. The one she had been wearing was filthy and torn. She made a mental note to either fix it or get a new one.
When she was finished, she laid down on her bed and thought. Her life seemed to be getting better. She had gotten a job that wasn't totally degrading. She was beginning to regain her pride. Then there was Spot. He was very handsome and she was definitely interested but she had a problem with the way he treated her. He probably knew that she was lying about her past and what she was, or used to be. He had a huge ego and he treated her like dirt.
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Spot Conlon, the leader of the Brooklyn newsies awoke one morning with a notion in his head that his life would change soon. He knew it was stupid so he pushed it to the back of his mind and went into his washroom to freshen up before he got around to selling his papers that day.
When walked downstairs to get his other newsies up and going, he was met half down by one of his smallest newsies, Squirt. He was a little black kid who couldn't have been older than nine years old. He tugged on Spot's shirt to get his attention.
"Hey, Spot! Nifty found a girl on the step las' night! He wants ya to see 'er! Oh, and Spot, she's a real feisty one!" Squirt had a lisp so all his 's' sounded like 'th'.
"Oh really. Where is Nifty?" he asked as he continued down the steps, the little boy following.
"In the lobby!" Everything he said ended in an exclamation point. He truly admired Spot.
"Ok, thanks, Squirt. Now go do me a favor and wake all the other guys up for me."
"Ok, Spot! Anything you say, sir!" and with that, he ran right back up the steps. Spot laughed to himself. That kid cracks me up.
When he reached the lobby, he found about six of his newsies holding down a small girl of about sixteen. She had shoulder length thick, brown, wavy hair with golden streaks in it. He couldn't tell what her eyes looked like because they were narrowed in slits of hatred.
"Easy, boys. Let the doll breathe." In an instant the guys holding her down got off her and she stood up. Her dress was dirty and old and revealing. It had slits going up the side and a low cut front. Her face was covered in thick make-up and there were streaks of dirt all over it. Crossing her arms across her chest, she glared at him and all the other guys in the room. "So, Nifty, where'd ya get the girl?"
One of the guys that had been holding her down stepped forward. He was a lot taller than Spot but it was clear who was in charge.
"She was just lyin' there on the steps and so I decided to take 'er in cuz she was shiverin'. " The girl had stayed silent until then.
"You son-of-a-bitch better let me go 'er I'll beat the fuckin' crap outta you!" she screamed.
"Wow, the brat's gotta mouth on 'er," Spot said and the others laughed.
"Shut-up, you lousy bastard!" She snapped.
"Hey, watch it!" he growled almost as fierce. They glared each other down for a while then Spot spoke. "Now let's start over. I'm Spot Conlon. Who are you?" She didn't speak. She looked at the other people in the room. Spot took the hint and led her up to his room on the third floor. She followed without a fight. When they reached his private room, he shut the door behind him and locked it.
"Now," he said, turning around, "What's your name?"
"Liz, Liz Neeley." She sat down on the floor and Spot joined her. His room was still dark with his shades pulled down. He lit his lamp to create some light and then sat back down.
"Well, Liz Neeley, where'd you come from and why did one of my newsies find you sleepin' on my stoop?"
"I was, um, running away from home because, um, my stepfather beats me," she lied quickly.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Yeah, sure ya are," she replied sarcastically. She did not want to make peace with this guy that fast. Besides, she wanted to use him to get to a safe haven first.
Spot rolled his eyes. This girl was more trouble than he bargained for but she was beautiful. He just realized how her big brown eyes sparkled in the candlelight and her light brown locks framed her face. He came out of his trance however when he noticed she was staring straight back at him, mocking his stunned expression.
"I'm is takin' you to Manhattan. Looks like you need to start off right. And this ain't no place to start off right. You gotta earn a livin' so your gonna learn from the best. Plus, I couldn't possibly teach you cuz I can't stand your attitude." He stood up and grabbed her arm roughly.
"Yeah, well I can't stand you either, you lousy sonova-"
"Watch yer language!" He paused. "Well, I think that was better...It was 7 sentences before you cursed at me," and he yanked her harder down the steps. She screamed. The newsies from the floor below looked up at them, curiously. Spot glared at them and they backed off.
Screaming will do you no good, wench! The cold words of her past echoed through her head as Spot yanked her down the three flights of stairs. He pulled her out the doorway and down to the water's edge and threw her down on the ground. He was very strong despite his size.
"Wash," he ordered and by the tone in his voice, she didn't argue. She bent down to the water and cupped some in her hands. Her reflection stared up at her. Her make-up was smeared from crying and her eyes were blood shot. There were thick streaks of mud all over her face from sleeping in alleys and such, trying to get away from her low life. She scrubbed her face until the skin was red. She tried to wash away all of her unhappiness but when she was done, it was still there. She stood up and Spot grabbed her again and dragged her all the way to Manhattan.
As they walked, Liz looked up at her captor. He was very good looking and she would agree with herself if he weren't gripping her arm so tightly.
"Hey! I can walk myself you know!" she tried to tear her arm away from him. But his hold was too strong.
"I know," he spat out. He let her arm go but he was very rough in doing so.
She walked slowly behind him. She found herself checking him out. She had to force herself to think about something else. But years of pretending to be interested in men she didn't know were getting the better of her. By the time she had unglued her eyes from the handsome guy in front of her, they had reached the Manhattan Newsies Lodging House.
"Here it is," he said and walked up the front steps. She followed. The inside of this Lodging House wasn't very much, just a desk in one corner and a couple of old worn out couches. He pulled her upstairs, nodding at the old man sitting at the desk.
"Hello, Spot. What brings you here?" he called out after them. Spot stopped.
"I found 'er and I can't keep 'er so I brought 'er here. For Jack." Kloppman nodded again.
"What's her name?"
"Liz Neeley."
"Well, she's gonna have to pay like the rest of 'em."
"She knows. How much money you got?" he said, now to Liz.
"Enough," she said, harshly. She wasn't about to let Spot do anything for her.
"Okay, then." And they continued on their way up the steps.
When they reached the bunkroom, they were met with many boys. "Hey, Jack!" he called. A tall, dirty-blond hair guy stepped out of the washroom. He had a red bandanna tied around his neck. Her immediate reaction was to push out her chest and smooth out her hair. She had to remind herself not to and make herself look more casual.
"Hey, welcome to the Lodgin' House." He smiled at her. She smiled back. "What do ya want Spot?"
"She needs somewhere to stay and I thought that she could stay 'ere cuz I don't got anywhere for 'er. She's runnin' from 'er step father and you need to teach 'er how to sell papes."
"Sure, Spot. What's 'er name?"
"Liz Neeley, but she's feisty as a tiger. And she sure has got a mouth on 'er." She glared at him.
"Then let's call 'er Tiger!" Mush yelled as he came out of the wash room. He jumped in surprise when he realized whom they were talking about. He grinned sheepishly at the beautiful girl.
"I's sorry, miss. My name's Mush Meyers."
"I'm Liz Neeley," she said saucily and winked at Mush. He blushed. Spot shoved him away.
"Now, I don't want any of you to try anything on her while she's here."
"I don't think they're the ones that need the whatchin'," a voice from the wash room doorway said. Liz glared at her. She was tall, skinny, straight blond hair and dazzling green eyes. She glared right in back.
"Hey, hey, easy on her, Sweety. She's new," Jack said. Sweety was his only long time girl friend since Sarah. She had become a newsie to be with Jack.
"Yeah, well she's a slut and I don't want her flirtin' with my man!" Sweety spit out, directed more at Liz than Spot and stormed out of the room. Jack looked uncomfortable. So did Liz.
"She's not usually like this. Really," Jack said.
"Yeah, whatever," Liz said, trying not to cry. "Where's my bed?" She sniffled.
"Right in here," he said and he led her to another room. "Sorry, but there ain't anymore in the main bunkroom and I don't really expect you to wanna sleep with any of these guys," he motioned to the on looking newsies. Won't be anything new to me, she thought. "Well, I got to get to work. You pro'bly want to get settled so I'll come and get you for lunch and we can sell the evening news, okay?"
"Okay," she said. Just then Spot poked his head in the room.
"Hey, Jack. You know you ain't getting' her permanently, she's comin' back to Brooklyn after she knows how to sell, okay?" Jack laughed.
"Sure, Spot," he said and walked out to meet Sweety. Liz just stood there with her mouth open.
"What? I'm goin' back to Brooklyn?"
"Yeah, your mine," he said, egoistically.
"Hey! You can't order me around like that! I ain't doin' nothin' I don't gotta!"
"Well, you do gotta cuz you got to learn how to fight."
"But I can fight!" Spot smirked.
"Yeah right, a puny little thing like you couldn't even defend 'erself against a feather!"
"You wanna say that to my face?" she replied angrily.
"I just did," he said plainly. She glowered at him. "Come on take your best shot!" She charged at him and jumped on his foot, hoping he would bend down and then she could knee him in the face. But he didn't move he didn't even grimace. "What? Didja think I was gonna fall for that?" She didn't want to admit that she did. She finally gave up and slapped him across the face. He looked stunned at first and then laughed. "We got a lotta work to do." And he walked out.
"Aw, go fuck yerself!" she yelled after him. He just laughed harder. Liz was fuming. She sat down on her bed and started unpacking her few treasures from her purse. She had a comb, her cosmetics, an extra dress and her locket. She put the dress into the drawer of the bedside table and arranged the rest on top. There was only a bed and the small table in the closet-sized room. As she looked around, she noticed a door. She opened it and found an even smaller room with a sink and a shower. The shower was only a shallow pit with a piece of cloth attached to the ceiling and a pump at one end. It wasn't much but it was hers. She washed up and changed into her clean dress. The one she had been wearing was filthy and torn. She made a mental note to either fix it or get a new one.
When she was finished, she laid down on her bed and thought. Her life seemed to be getting better. She had gotten a job that wasn't totally degrading. She was beginning to regain her pride. Then there was Spot. He was very handsome and she was definitely interested but she had a problem with the way he treated her. He probably knew that she was lying about her past and what she was, or used to be. He had a huge ego and he treated her like dirt.