Intro
"I'm not all sweet inside. I ain't gonna take care of you. I ain't gonna keep you safe. I got other people I gotta worry about. A shitload of boys to keep outta trouble. I got myself to worry about. What you see – this is it. This is me. I ain't hiding nothing. Nothing bad an' nothing good. There's no upstandin' citizen underneath this just waiting for some certain girl to bring it out. So if that's your plan, if that's what you're expectin' and hopin' for, just forget it. Because there ain't no way in hell that's ever gonna happen."
He was scowling as he looked out over the river, his arms crossed on his chest. He had forgotten her for the moment, caught up in his frustration with the young lady who had left his company moments before.
She watched him curiously. He seemed a good deal more upset than one girl would ordinarily make him. "Why are you telling me this? Shouldn't you have told her? It doesn't make any difference to me. I don't care."
"I don't give a shit whedda or not you care."
"No, I know, I don't think you do," she answered, taking stock of him. "I think what bothers you is that you don't think you can change, but part of you wants to and it bothers you because you think this should all be enough. And you don't want to insult your boys if it's not."
He turned to her, eyes narrowed, a mocking tone. "You've got it figured out, eh? Wow. All these years I thought it was so complicated, but Kill's little sister figures me out in two minutes."
She shook her head. "I wouldn't be stupid enough to think I've got you figured out, Spot. …But that sounded nice and dramatic, didn't it?" She answered breezily, as though she was suddenly losing interest in the topic. "Anyway, that's not why I'm here. Tell Kill mama wants him home tonight. No errands."
"Maura." It was not a question but she answered it.
"Yes?"
"Tell mama Kill will be bringing a friend."
Maura smirked. "You?"
"Me."
"Ok. I'll tell her. See you tonight then."
"No, mama. It was Spot. He just said to tell you that he'd like to come with Kill for dinner tonight, if that's ok." Maura sugarcoated the leader's words, though she wasn't sure why. She didn't need to protect him from appearing demanding to her mother. It wasn't her issue. She didn't care. But she sugarcoated just the same.
"Of course you told him it was! He's a smart lad, a strong boy, he's good to Kill. He's got much more going for him than many of the other ruffians your brother calls friends," Mrs. Montgomery spoke definitively. Maura smiled as she folded napkins for four places.
"Yes, Ma. He's good to Kill. Kill is good to him, too."
Mrs. Montgomery looked up at Maura from the potato soup she was hovering over. "You will never find a truer friend than your brother, Maura."
"I know, mama."
Mrs. Montgomery didn't idolize her son, but she appreciated him. Killian Montgomery was a special soul. He was the most loyal and truest of friends, uneducated for the most part, but streetwise enough not to put his trust in people prematurely. He took his time, read situations, and waited to act. When he did act, it was swift, thorough, and unchanging. Strong and sturdily built, he was an ominous presence forever towering in the background. He was the perfect bodyguard. He didn't want power; he didn't seek recognition from the multitudes. He was content to be the brawn, appreciated solely by the leader he loyally defended and deferred to.
Maura appreciated him, too. And she knew Spot Conlon did as well. That was one of the main reasons Spot Conlon was a person of note as far as she was concerned.
The door opened then. Kill stopped before entering, letting Spot through first. "Ma, that smells good!"
After Spot had entered, Kill made his way to the stove, hugging Mrs. Montgomery and inhaling deeply over the soup. "Sit down, Ma, I'll take care of it."
Kill also doted on his mother. He hated that her knuckles were forever red and raw. He hated that she never had enough sleep. He hated that at thirty-five, her body was crippled by middle-age ailments. He wanted to change that. Someday, he was going to change that.
"Ay, it's not a problem! Sit down, sit down! Get Mr. Conlon a drink!" She had always called him that. Here, she turned to Spot herself. "Good evening, Mr. Conlon. It's been quite awhile since we've had this pleasure. I hope the times find you well."
Spot loved being treated like a man of importance. He was all smoothness as he sent an assuring smile toward her mother. "Thanks, Mrs. Montgomery, I've been doing very well. It's always disappointin' when circumstances don't make it possible to come by more often. How have you been?"
"Well enough. Please take a seat. Maura, why doesn't this young man have a drink yet?"
"Kill was getting it," Maura said, scooping spoonfuls of soup into two bowls. She set one in front of her mother who had listened to Kill and sat down. The other she put before Spot, where he had taken a seat across from Mrs. Montgomery.
Spot looked up at her as she did. "Thanks, Maura." His eyes were sparkling just a bit from the wind and the chill of the day and the enjoyment of an evening spent out of the ordinary.
"Mrs. Montgomery, I'm waiting for Kill to come to me one day and tell me you've been hired by the Waldorf as a restaurant chef. This is too good."
"Oh, Mr. Conlon, don't be ridiculous," Mrs. Montgomery chuckled, batting at him from across the table with her napkin. "It's watery and thin. All I can make do with these days."
"If you can do that with this, imagine what you could do with what they'd have for you," Spot answered her, a smile on his lips.
"That's what I tell her," Kill added. "She doesn't listen to me though." He lightly poked her forearm. She patted his hand in response.
"You two are full of fanciful ideas! If I didn't have my sensible Maura here, we'd all be in trouble!" Mrs. Montgomery turned to smile at her daughter. Maura let out a small laugh.
Spot turned to look at her as well. "Is that so?" He was responding to Mrs. Montgomery, but his question seemed aimed at Maura.
"That's what I'm told," she answered with an exaggerated shrug.
Spot grinned. "I'll have to remember that next time we're negotiating with Manhattan, Kill."
Kill laughed. "Yeah, sure, she'll come in handy. Can you imagine her and Davey going back and forth?"
Maura didn't know who Davey was, but Spot apparently found the image as funny as Kill did and they erupted. "Well, if I ever have trouble sleeping, I betcha that'd do the trick!"
As Kill and Spot continued their little joke, Maura huffed a bit and stood up to clear the table. Mrs. Montgomery patted her shoulder lovingly and moved to help her.
Spot and Kill started to sober. "Mrs. Montgomery?" Spot had stood up.
"Yes, Mr. Conlon?" She looked at him expectantly. Maura concentrated on cleaning her bowl.
"It's a beautiful fall night, and after such a dinner, I feel the need to stretch my legs. Might you allow Miss Maura to come with Kill and I for a short walk?"
Here, Maura's hand stopped swirling soapy water in her bowl. What could he want that for? Odd.
"Why of course! Maura, I'll finish up the dishes."
"Mama, it's ok. I walked a lot this afternoon." She'd already been down to the docks for Kill. Her legs were tired.
"Oh, a walk will do you good. Go on." Mrs. Montgomery shooed her out. Spot grinned mischievously and Kill rolled his eyes.
Maura grabbed a shawl. "Ok then, let's go."
She followed Spot and Kill out. Neither of them acted like this was anything out of the ordinary. It was as though Spot came over every night, flattered their mother, laughed with Kill, and then asked permission for Maura to accompany them on a 'walk.' You walked everywhere in New York. Who took walks just to take them? It didn't make sense. But it was a decent night outside so Maura decided to try to enjoy it.
"Nah, Blue told Jutty to get that scamp outta here. I didn't even have to get involved. He probably dumped him in the Bronx!" Spot was saying as Maura started paying attention. He and Kill had a good laugh about that.
"Mikey's sure gonna love that!" Kill snickered.
"Yeah, he'll probably have one of his birds over in a day or two I'm guessing," Spot returned. He switched into a haughty impersonation, sticking his nose in the air and lowering his eyelids, "Why, Conlon, I'm so gravely insulted! Since when has the Bronx become a dumping ground for Brooklyn's trash? I am hurt that it was Jutty and not yourself that disposed of him here. Not that I disrespect one of your boys in any way, and not that I am not entirely pleased to help Brooklyn in every way I can…"
Kill doubled over laughing. Spot grinned, pleased with his performance as well.
"Mikey Bacchio? Is that the Bronx leader?" Maura asked abruptly.
The two boys grew serious and turned to her.
"Yeah, how do you know him?" Spot demanded, his eyes suddenly all business, a slight suspicion creeping into them.
Maura shrugged. "I don't. I've heard about him."
"From who?" Kill wanted to know. They knew from how she was talking that Maura didn't mean she had heard of him from their conversations.
"Catrina."
"Catrina? Who's that?" Spot was clearly wishing Maura would divulge faster.
"She works with her," Kill answered him quickly, so Maura would speak on.
"Well, what did she say?"
"Her cousin – I've never met her…" Maura started to trail off, realizing this was not a topic to be discussed with current company - or really at all, for that matter.
"What about her?" Spot demanded. Kill was looking at her expectantly as well.
"I – I, um – I heard she got herself into some trouble…"
"Maura, what kind of trouble we talking?" Kill prodded his little sister.
"Trouble with Mikey Bacchio. That's all I know," Maura answered, blushing in overwhelming embarrassment that she had brought this up at all.
"A Brooklyn girl?" Spot was obviously disgusted by that prospect.
"No, Catrina's cousin lives in the Bronx. Moved there years ago with her family."
"Well, that's what you get for leaving Brooklyn, eh?" Spot threw an aside to Kill who snickered. Back to the topic on hand, he waved a hand in dismissal. "Just so long as you ain't hearing legends of his grandeur, I don't care what's going on. No need for details."
Just then, they were passing a couple of kids playing marbles at an alley entrance. The boys looked up, then lighted up when they saw it was Spot and Kill.
"Heya, Spot!" The taller of the two greeted, standing up. His pasty face and violet eyes held pride. "Look at the shooter Catfish got!"
"Yeah, yeah, take a look, Spot! Look!" Catfish yelped excitedly, holding it out for inspection. Spot was very serious as he took the shooter from Catfish and carefully looked it over.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Kill - " It always struck Maura as funny when Spot used that phrase. "But this looks like a rare kind that Boots has been trying to find for awhile now..."
Kill studied it just as closely and nodded. "Sure looks like it."
Catfish and his friend were both clearly excited by this. "You mean Boots from Manhattan? He's always got the best marbles outside Brooklyn! Wow!"
Spot smiled. "You should invite him over for a friendly little competition," he suggested, handing the marble back to Catfish. "We'll see yous later, boys." He nodded at them as he turned to continue down the street, Kill beside him and Maura a half-step behind.
"Bye-ya, Spot!"
"See ya, Spot!" They hunkered back down for their game.
"Not a bad idea," Spot mused as they walked away. "Next time we invite those boys for poker, we should set up some marble wagers."
"Boots'll be itchin' to win this time, that's for sure," Kill noted. Spot smirked in agreement.
"'Hattan pride and all that," he scoffed, his arms crossing his chest. "Nah, it'll be a good way to help them unload some of their earnings..." Maura watched curiously as devious little wheels spun in the leader's head. "Shit, between poker and marbles, we could potentially win enough to take the next morning off – or at least the afternoon edition. Just the kids'd have to sell..."
Kill said nothing, just followed Spot's plan. Maura wondered – no, she knew – Manhattan's leader Jack Kelly didn't look at it as an automatic loss or he and his newsies would never agree to come. But one would never compare Spot Conlon to Manhattan.
"Course you'd be selling still," Spot continued, as it was a given. "And we'd send Blue with the likes of Catfish and those. Yeah, we'll plan for this soon." Spot decided it with a definitive nod of his head.
"It'd be good," Kill agreed in his usual way.
"I'll send Blue to make the plans. Or maybe - " Spot paused for emphasis with a mischievous grin, "just maybe, I'll go visit Jacky-boy myself."
Kill nodded with a knowing smile. Maura looked from her brother to his friend. Something told her this would be a fun trip to take. She hoped Kill would be accompanying Spot so some stories would trickle their way back to her.
Note: This is my first attempt at uploading a story on here. Just having a bit of fun exploring some of my favorite Newsies characters. :) It's not the most thrilling intro, I know, but I was beginning to think if I didn't just go ahead and put it up, I might chicken out altogether. I do have a plan and a purpose for this story. I am trying to write Spot as close to movie character as possible, which to me seems to be a serious leader, but also a teenage boy who likes to have fun, joke around, and scheme. I appreciate any feedback. Thanks if you took the time to check this out!