1 Chapter one: his earliest memories
They lived in a tiny apartment near the docks in Brooklyn. His mother took care of him, she was always there, always watching out for him, always spoiling him to the greatest means she could, though even that wasn't very much. She called him Spot, he never knew why, he just assumed that was his name. And she was Mama. That was all he knew, she was his world, his everything, and he would do everything in his power to please her.
When Spot was almost four years old, he saw that his beloved Mama was changing. She seemed sick, she was always tired, and her belly seemed to grow larger by the day. Then one day it happened. Two strange ladies came to the apartment. One took Mama into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. The other, younger, one sat outside with Spot. "You're gonna have a new baby around here!" she had said cheerfully. Spot had looked at her puzzled. "Didn't your mother tell you? You're gonna have a new little brother or sister!" Spot shook his head. He was very shy, his mother being the only person he had come in contact with. Now it had been the girl's turn to be puzzled. Just then they heard a cry from the other room. "I'd better go," the girl said, hurrying into the bedroom.
Over the next few months, Spot got used to his little sister, Bitty, and he loved her very much, but he knew that Mama had changed. She seemed never to eat and he knew something was wrong. He realized that he no longer saw the man that Mama referred to as "Pa" around the apartment. Spot had hardly ever seen him anyway, certainly never spent time with him, for "Pa" was only there on Sundays, and even then he was usually sleeping.
The next few months passed thus, and with them Spot's fourth birthday. The weather was beginning to get cooler and the leaves were changing color. Spot knew what always followed these signs: winter. A cold, harsh time that would leave them with so very little to eat. One especially cold morning, Spot woke up and went into his mother's room. She cheerfully helped him get dressed in his warmest clothes, saying that they were going somewhere special that day. Mama then bundled Bitty in a few warm blankets and the three set out into the cold street.
Mama stopped them when they were in front of a large building. She knocked on the door and soon a tall and kindly looking nun came to the door. She opened it just enough to stick her habbited head out and peer curiously at the woman with a small child attached to one arm and a small baby curled in the other. Upon seeing them she quickly opened the door wider and shooed them in saying, "hurry, hurry, you'll catch your death of cold out there!"
Mama stepped gingerly into the orphanage, Spot following close behind and Bitty, because she had no choice, was led inside as well. When all were safely inside and the door firmly bolted against the cold, the nun asked, "Can I help you ma'am?"
Mama took a deep breath, "Yes, please, these were children of my dear friend, who, sadly passed away last week," she paused to sniffle, "and even though I love them dearly as if they were my own, I simply don't have the means to raise two children. Their father left soon after Bitty here," she motioned with her arm to show she was speaking of the baby in her arms, "was born. And my own husband died a few months ago from fumes at the factory," she sniffled again with tears in her eyes, "can you help these poor children?"
By this time the nun had tears in her eyes as well, "of course we can," she answered kindly, "there are a few papers to filled out though, would you step into the office? This is Sister Margaret, she'll take the children upstairs."
With that Mama looked lovingly at Bitty in her arms and hugged her tightly for a moment before handing her to Sister Margaret. Then she knelt down to Spot and hugged him tightly. She whispered, "Mama has to go away now, Spot. But we'll be together again soon, don't you worry." There were tears in her eyes as she looked straight into his little face, "all right Mama," he answered, very confused with the whole thing. He was a little dazed at all he had heard, he had no concept of lying, or of wrong, he was so very confused. Mama bit her lip and stood up, following the first nun into the office, leaving Spot and Bitty in the care of Sister Margaret. She smiled warmly at spot and asked him to follow her. She held Bitty in one arm and hitched up her skirt a little with the other. She started up the stairs, Spot following close behind.
They first went into a small room filled with cribs and cradles and playpens, occupied by tiny babies and toddlers with their large sad eyes in their tiny lost faces. Sister Margaret placed Bitty into a cradle. "This is where your sister will live until she's older, Spot. Your room is down the hall," she said. Spot looked at her as if she was the devil himself. How could he be separated from his beloved Bitty? He shook his head, with wide eyes. She smiled warmly again, "don't worry, you'll be able to see her whenever you want," she assured him. Spot considered this, and finally followed the sister reluctantly into a long room with a door at each end and a row of beds on each side with a small night table between each bed. "This is the boys' room," Sister Margaret said, "here's an empty bed," she continued pointing to one bed, which held no sign of a little boy living in it. She helped him take off his little jacket and hang it on a hook on one side of the room. She showed him the washroom and then led him towards the door on the other end of the bedroom.
"Everyone's in the play room," she explained. They came to the door and Sister Margaret led him into the play room, a large room with a smooth wooden floor and white walls covered with little drawings done by the children on little pieces of flimsy paper. The children, boys and girls, were spread out in little clumps all over the room. Some played with jacks or make-shift dolls or other toys, while others seemed to be acting out little plays or situations in their own little worlds and a few older ones played cards. Spot surveyed the situation with awe. In all his four years he had never, ever seen so many children!
"Children!" She called, "I've brought you a new little playmate!" the sister continued cheerfully, "This is Spot, he'll be living here with all of you, so be nice to him and make sure you include him and play with him." She seemed to give meaningful glances to certain children in the group. They all nodded innocently and she left with one last warm smile at Spot.
A little girl came up to Spot curiously. "I'm 'Manda," she said, holding out her little hand. Spot looked at her with wide eyes. 'Manda seemed puzzled with Spot's shy behavior. "Can't you speak?" she asked. Spot nodded. 'Manda smiled her little crooked smile with her little head cocked to the side. "Well then, why don't you?" she asked practically. Spot stared up at her, for she was a good few inches taller than him, though they were the same age. "I guess you're not much of a talker," she commented with her four-year-old's logic. Suddenly Spot smiled a little at the little girl in front of him. "I guess not," he said slowly. 'Manda smiled more and giggled.
The two children played together for the rest of the day, until the nuns came in and told them it was time to go to bed. Spot and 'Manda separated reluctantly and went to their respective rooms.
As he lay in bed, Spot considered the day he had been through. Then he remembered his mother, who he had forgotten through all his playing. He then began to cry softly, realizing how much he missed her and wondering when she would come back.
Spot didn't feel like playing the next day. 'Manda tried to persuade him, but in vain, he wouldn't come out of his little sulking corner of the playroom. "What is tha matta wit you, anyway?" she asked out of desperation. "I miss my Mama!" Spot choked out. 'Manda looked at him like he was crazy for a moment, like she wasn't sure if he was serious. Then she right out laughed. "You poor, poor little boy," she said sarcastically, "You tink she's comin' back, don't you?" Spot nodded as 'Manda shook her head. "Well, let me tell you, she ain't. Nobody's Mama ever comes back here! Why do you think she left you here in the first place?" Spot's eyes grew large with fresh tears and his little lip trembled. "Ya don't gotta cry about it, it's a parta life," 'Manda assured him. "She left you, so what? There's nuttin' you can do 'bout it anyway, ya might-as-well enjoy yaself." Spot considered this for a moment, then sniffled and wiped his face on his sleeve.
From then on Spot didn't cry anymore, he stuck to 'Manda, and brought her with him to see Bitty almost every day. Soon he began to befriend some of the other little boys and girls, but none so well as 'Manda.
They lived in a tiny apartment near the docks in Brooklyn. His mother took care of him, she was always there, always watching out for him, always spoiling him to the greatest means she could, though even that wasn't very much. She called him Spot, he never knew why, he just assumed that was his name. And she was Mama. That was all he knew, she was his world, his everything, and he would do everything in his power to please her.
When Spot was almost four years old, he saw that his beloved Mama was changing. She seemed sick, she was always tired, and her belly seemed to grow larger by the day. Then one day it happened. Two strange ladies came to the apartment. One took Mama into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. The other, younger, one sat outside with Spot. "You're gonna have a new baby around here!" she had said cheerfully. Spot had looked at her puzzled. "Didn't your mother tell you? You're gonna have a new little brother or sister!" Spot shook his head. He was very shy, his mother being the only person he had come in contact with. Now it had been the girl's turn to be puzzled. Just then they heard a cry from the other room. "I'd better go," the girl said, hurrying into the bedroom.
Over the next few months, Spot got used to his little sister, Bitty, and he loved her very much, but he knew that Mama had changed. She seemed never to eat and he knew something was wrong. He realized that he no longer saw the man that Mama referred to as "Pa" around the apartment. Spot had hardly ever seen him anyway, certainly never spent time with him, for "Pa" was only there on Sundays, and even then he was usually sleeping.
The next few months passed thus, and with them Spot's fourth birthday. The weather was beginning to get cooler and the leaves were changing color. Spot knew what always followed these signs: winter. A cold, harsh time that would leave them with so very little to eat. One especially cold morning, Spot woke up and went into his mother's room. She cheerfully helped him get dressed in his warmest clothes, saying that they were going somewhere special that day. Mama then bundled Bitty in a few warm blankets and the three set out into the cold street.
Mama stopped them when they were in front of a large building. She knocked on the door and soon a tall and kindly looking nun came to the door. She opened it just enough to stick her habbited head out and peer curiously at the woman with a small child attached to one arm and a small baby curled in the other. Upon seeing them she quickly opened the door wider and shooed them in saying, "hurry, hurry, you'll catch your death of cold out there!"
Mama stepped gingerly into the orphanage, Spot following close behind and Bitty, because she had no choice, was led inside as well. When all were safely inside and the door firmly bolted against the cold, the nun asked, "Can I help you ma'am?"
Mama took a deep breath, "Yes, please, these were children of my dear friend, who, sadly passed away last week," she paused to sniffle, "and even though I love them dearly as if they were my own, I simply don't have the means to raise two children. Their father left soon after Bitty here," she motioned with her arm to show she was speaking of the baby in her arms, "was born. And my own husband died a few months ago from fumes at the factory," she sniffled again with tears in her eyes, "can you help these poor children?"
By this time the nun had tears in her eyes as well, "of course we can," she answered kindly, "there are a few papers to filled out though, would you step into the office? This is Sister Margaret, she'll take the children upstairs."
With that Mama looked lovingly at Bitty in her arms and hugged her tightly for a moment before handing her to Sister Margaret. Then she knelt down to Spot and hugged him tightly. She whispered, "Mama has to go away now, Spot. But we'll be together again soon, don't you worry." There were tears in her eyes as she looked straight into his little face, "all right Mama," he answered, very confused with the whole thing. He was a little dazed at all he had heard, he had no concept of lying, or of wrong, he was so very confused. Mama bit her lip and stood up, following the first nun into the office, leaving Spot and Bitty in the care of Sister Margaret. She smiled warmly at spot and asked him to follow her. She held Bitty in one arm and hitched up her skirt a little with the other. She started up the stairs, Spot following close behind.
They first went into a small room filled with cribs and cradles and playpens, occupied by tiny babies and toddlers with their large sad eyes in their tiny lost faces. Sister Margaret placed Bitty into a cradle. "This is where your sister will live until she's older, Spot. Your room is down the hall," she said. Spot looked at her as if she was the devil himself. How could he be separated from his beloved Bitty? He shook his head, with wide eyes. She smiled warmly again, "don't worry, you'll be able to see her whenever you want," she assured him. Spot considered this, and finally followed the sister reluctantly into a long room with a door at each end and a row of beds on each side with a small night table between each bed. "This is the boys' room," Sister Margaret said, "here's an empty bed," she continued pointing to one bed, which held no sign of a little boy living in it. She helped him take off his little jacket and hang it on a hook on one side of the room. She showed him the washroom and then led him towards the door on the other end of the bedroom.
"Everyone's in the play room," she explained. They came to the door and Sister Margaret led him into the play room, a large room with a smooth wooden floor and white walls covered with little drawings done by the children on little pieces of flimsy paper. The children, boys and girls, were spread out in little clumps all over the room. Some played with jacks or make-shift dolls or other toys, while others seemed to be acting out little plays or situations in their own little worlds and a few older ones played cards. Spot surveyed the situation with awe. In all his four years he had never, ever seen so many children!
"Children!" She called, "I've brought you a new little playmate!" the sister continued cheerfully, "This is Spot, he'll be living here with all of you, so be nice to him and make sure you include him and play with him." She seemed to give meaningful glances to certain children in the group. They all nodded innocently and she left with one last warm smile at Spot.
A little girl came up to Spot curiously. "I'm 'Manda," she said, holding out her little hand. Spot looked at her with wide eyes. 'Manda seemed puzzled with Spot's shy behavior. "Can't you speak?" she asked. Spot nodded. 'Manda smiled her little crooked smile with her little head cocked to the side. "Well then, why don't you?" she asked practically. Spot stared up at her, for she was a good few inches taller than him, though they were the same age. "I guess you're not much of a talker," she commented with her four-year-old's logic. Suddenly Spot smiled a little at the little girl in front of him. "I guess not," he said slowly. 'Manda smiled more and giggled.
The two children played together for the rest of the day, until the nuns came in and told them it was time to go to bed. Spot and 'Manda separated reluctantly and went to their respective rooms.
As he lay in bed, Spot considered the day he had been through. Then he remembered his mother, who he had forgotten through all his playing. He then began to cry softly, realizing how much he missed her and wondering when she would come back.
Spot didn't feel like playing the next day. 'Manda tried to persuade him, but in vain, he wouldn't come out of his little sulking corner of the playroom. "What is tha matta wit you, anyway?" she asked out of desperation. "I miss my Mama!" Spot choked out. 'Manda looked at him like he was crazy for a moment, like she wasn't sure if he was serious. Then she right out laughed. "You poor, poor little boy," she said sarcastically, "You tink she's comin' back, don't you?" Spot nodded as 'Manda shook her head. "Well, let me tell you, she ain't. Nobody's Mama ever comes back here! Why do you think she left you here in the first place?" Spot's eyes grew large with fresh tears and his little lip trembled. "Ya don't gotta cry about it, it's a parta life," 'Manda assured him. "She left you, so what? There's nuttin' you can do 'bout it anyway, ya might-as-well enjoy yaself." Spot considered this for a moment, then sniffled and wiped his face on his sleeve.
From then on Spot didn't cry anymore, he stuck to 'Manda, and brought her with him to see Bitty almost every day. Soon he began to befriend some of the other little boys and girls, but none so well as 'Manda.
