AN: This is a one shot (I think…that is how I am writing it at least.) I have been reading and doing a lot of research into child psychology…(not for fun…for school) and that is where I got the idea. It is kind of a mix of his past and present…more or less a way for his past to explain who he has become in the present. Please review and let me know what you all think.
Better Off Forgotten
"Because some things are better off forgotten," Spot yelled more than a little aggravated. He pushed himself up slowly and walked away from the table. He needed a little air and decided to make a trek outside into the cold New York night.
Snow covered the fire escape. He knew coming out side wasn't such a bright idea - more or less a great way for him to catch pneumonia and die. Although with the way he was feeling right now - death didn't seem like such a bad option. He sighed as snow fell gently from the sky giving the already white buildings around the Manhattan Lodging House a fresh dusting.
He hadn't meant to fly off the handle earlier. He shook his head. He didn't care. He didn't want to talk about the past…anyone's past but especially his. Spot had taken special care to never make his newsies tell him where they came from or what happened that they ended up at the lodging house. It wasn't that he wasn't interested it was more or less that he didn't want to feel obligated to share his own story.
That was how things worked in the world of the newsies. Someone told you there real name you do the same. Someone tells you about their past you do the same. There was an honor system. You never lied about such things. The only lies newsies told were about the headline…and even then that was really just improving the truth.
He sighed. He had spent all evening trying to push the thoughts of his childhood aside. The memories, the pictures, all began flooding back when the others had started talking about their pasts. The evening had been going good until then.
Spot had come from Brooklyn to spend the night at the Manhattan Lodging House per Jack Kelly's request. They had become pretty good friends since the whole strike business. Jack had planned a pretty heated poker game amongst some of the best players in New York. Spot, Race, and Jack represented the newsies. Blade and Tiger represented the ironworkers. Birdie and Claire came from the female factory workers and Max and Soldier were the male factory workers. They were quite an odd mix but they all had become friends after the strike. There had been many celebrations and poker was a given anytime a party was going on. This group had proven to be the best at the game and had met often since then to play.
Some time during the game the booze had been pulled out. All of them had taken part and more then a few bottles of beer had been downed. Spot however, sipped only a little from one bottle. He wanted to win and that meant staying alert. He couldn't have his senses being marred by alcohol.
In her drunken stupor Birdie had begun to talk about a time when she was little. She began to tell them about how she learned to play poker. It had been her father who had taught her. Everyone watched as tears began to slide down her cheeks. She went on and told everyone how her old man died and how she had been forced into a factory job to survive.
It seemed that the domino effect had begun after that, as everyone being under the influence let their emotions flood. Suddenly Spot had known far more about the other people sitting at the table with him then he had ever wanted too.
He had been surprised and extremely uncomfortable when even Jack began to shed tears over his deceased mother.
When they had all shared their stories they turned to Spot expectantly. He tried to turn their attention. He tried to get them to focus on the game. When that wouldn't work he gave them a short answer.
"My dad died fore' I was born. My ma died when I was eight. I had bastard for a step dad and ran away - end of story."
That had been his response. He thought that would be enough but they kept insisting - pursuing. He could hear their voices.
"Dat's it? I mean come on Spot we poured our hearts out ere'." Race had said sarcastically but he had meant it seriously.
"Yeah…it ain't like we ain't all gotta a past." Claire said a little bitterly.
"Are ya hidin' something? Why won't ya tell us?" Max insisted.
That was when Spot had flown off the handle. That was when he had yelled about things being better off forgotten and that was when he had come to the roof.
His heart ached at that moment. He had been defensive. He hated being on the defense. He had made it a practice to always play offense. He always knew what was happening and he was always the first to make a move. That was how he had run his life since becoming a newsies. He thought for a moment. No - that was how he had run his life since running away from him.
He let his mind turn to a time long ago when he was a small child. The memory hurt him. It had such a strong presence over him he felt almost physically sick recalling it.
"And do you Adelaide Conlon take Alexander Seaborne to be your lawful husband, to have from this day forward in sickness and in health?"
"I do."
"Then it is with great pleasure that I am able to pronounce before God and the members of this congregation that you are now man and wife. You sir may kiss your bride."
The beautiful woman leaned in for a kiss. After pulling apart from the man she turned her attention to a small boy sitting in the first pew. He ran to her, embracing her bringing an even bigger smile to her face.
"Oh Luke darling isn't it wonderful?" She asked him as she squeezed the boy tightly.
That was the last time Spot could recall his mother happy. After that day his life and his mother's had become hell. He tried to shake the memories but they all became crystal clear as he let himself finally bring back the images he had so long tried to repress.
"I can't do this anymore Alex! You barely work. I am gone working all day and I come home and find you here long enough to take our money and spend it on booze?! I have a family to take care of!"
"Some family Addy - that boy ain't even mine."
"Alex! How can you say that? You adopted him. You are his father." Tears began to roll down her cheeks. "Please don't say things like that - not in front of him."
"I'll say whatever the hell I want and I will spend my damn money any way I damn well please!"
"Alex, what about the children? We have Luke and now Brett. I can't let them starve so you can support your habit. I think it is time you take your things and leave!"
"I think you had better watch yourself." The angry man swung his fist across the woman's face.
"Mama! Don't you ever touch her again!" The little boy screamed as he kicked the man in the shins.
"You little bastard! Get over here. I'll show you…" The man picked up the little boy by the neck and began shaking him.
"Luke! Alex no please stop!" The woman anchored herself between the man and the little boy, forcing the man to loosen his grip on the boy.
The little boy was thrown to the ground. He landed so hard he felt the air that was knocked out of him. He tried to move but he couldn't catch his breath and he lay their in horror as he watched his stepfather beat his mother to death.
Spot tried hard to push the image aside. Anger pulsed through him as he imagined the night that his stepfather had taken his mothers life. He punched the icy wall next to him. His hand instantly began to bleed. The pain came more from the cold and ice then the wall but the pain distracted him. This is how he handled things. He was violent. He had to be. When he was angry he couldn't hide it. He used too but that was his downfall. He sat down on the icy rooftop and put his head in his hands as more memories began to take him over.
"Luke boy get in here. Did you get the money?!"
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
"Yes sir. I did just as you told me."
"Where did you get that shiner from boy? You let them catch you didn't you." The man yelled angrily. "I told you never to let them catch you. Your gonna be punished for that." He grabbed the trembling little boy.
"But sir I got the money…I got away." His cries were useless as the man carried the little boy into the next room and began to beat him mercilessly. The boy screamed but his cries soon turned to silent sobs as he continued to take the beating his stepfather doled out for him.
"I lose your mother and my baby girl soon after and I am stuck with you. I am stuck with trash. I take you in little bastard and give you a home and you can't even help provide with out getting into trouble!" The man yelled at the little boy between throwing punches.
Spot remembered that night clearly. His body ached again almost as though his stepfather's beating was fresh. What bothered him most was the way his stepfather had said "I lose your mother and my baby girl…" It had been his stepfather who had murdered his mother in cold blood. Spot had seen the rage that night and he watched his mother struggle uselessly in her fight for existence. Spot shook his head. The jackass lost his wife and kid because he killed them. Brett, his baby sister, had only been a month old when his mother had been killed. She never took to the formula. After his mother died there was no one else to take care of her to feed her. Alex had never tried hard to save the little girl. Spot actually thought that the man probably enjoyed watching the baby starve to death. He was a sadist. He thrived when other people suffered.
The anger once again welled up in Spot. This was not at all how he planned his evening going. He was shaking from the cold but he didn't care. He didn't want to face the people inside. He knew he wasn't alone. Many of the newsies had suffered abuse during their childhood but he was ashamed. He could never tell them how far it had gone. How far he had let it go. It was his own fault. He should have fought back. The memories began to flow back in as he continued to freeze on the roof.
"Come here boy."
"Sir?"
"I said come here!" He growled angrily. "Don't keep me waiting you know what I want."
"Sir I can't please…" It was too late. The grown man had already taken the young boy and had forcefully thrown him face down on the table. He cruelly used the boy ignoring the screams of agony. He answered the screams only occasionally with a hard smack on the boys back that made him scream louder. When he was done he pulled himself off the young boy.
"Turn around. You know what to do next." The young boy looked fearful knowing what would happen as he refused. He crawled to his knees and did as he wished.
That was the boiling point for Spot. He couldn't take the thoughts anymore. It was too much all the memories of Alexander Seaborne - the man who was supposed to love his mother, the man who was supposed to love him like a son.
The minute Spot was on his own at the age of eleven he set out to ensure that he would never be pushed around again by the Alexander Seabornes' of the world. He learned how to fight. He learned how to be alert and take in his surroundings. He never gave into anyone. He was tough. Alexander had made him tough. He supposed in some twisted way he had Alexander to thank for that. He would have never survived the streets of New York otherwise.
He shook the snow that had slowly been gathering on his back. He wasn't that same person anymore. Life had been cruel and had forced the innocence right out of him. It however hadn't completely turned his heart cold. He knew it was not a miracle that he had made it out of the grasp of Alexander Seaborne. He had God to thank for that. He looked to the sky feeling a sudden closeness. He smiled. The past was behind him. He had forgiven Alexander Seaborne along time ago. It was the grace of God that had saved him all those years ago. He knew long ago that he had to do what was right. He whispered out loud.
"For if you forgive others for their transgressions, your heavenly father will also forgive you. Matthew chapter 6 verse 14."
He shook his head. He didn't expect anyone of the people inside the Manhattan Lodging House to understand. He didn't want to tell them. He didn't feel right telling them. He had moved on a long time ago. He had forgiven and now it was time to forget. He knew he would never completely forget. He was the person he was today because of what happened to him in the past but he wouldn't dwell on it any longer. He had missed out on his childhood he wouldn't miss out on the rest of his life. He whispered out loud again.
"Jeremiah 29:11 for I know the plans that I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope."
He smiled as he pulled himself over the side of the rooftop and on to the fire escape. The past was better left forgotten but by the grace of God he knew he had a future and he certainly had hope.
AN: SO that is my take on Spot's past…I know a little disturbing but I have been reading different case studies on children of child abuse. I have found many of them share qualities with Spot that we see in the movie so I thought that it would some what fit. Also I know I have used Jeremiah 29:11 in another story but it is one of my all time favorite verses and seemed appropriate here. I would love to hear what you all thought of this story. Please if you take the time to read it…take the time to review it. If you have suggestions for improvement or hated the way I interpreted his past let me know. Any feedback is good in my book. Thanks! - Emily
NEW AN:While you are here I also have another favor to ask. I have a poll on my profile page regarding my next fanfic and which newsie you all want to read about so please stop by and take it. Thanks again -Emily
