My job at the tracks was probably the most fun I had had in years. After watching some of the techniques I used, a race horse owner named Gibbons offered me a job in the mornings, teaching the other grooms and working with the younger horses. The job was very physical, and constantly brought memories of Texas and home. This was a good thing for me. And a bad thing.
A young groom of about seventeen, named Jonathan, was my assistant. He had wavy brown hair and freckles, and was seemingly very serious. But I detected a dry sense of humor under his straight face, and we had lots of fun together. He learned quickly.
After three o'clock every day Racetrack would find me, and we would go find the other boys. I stayed at the track, but I still visited my friends.
Riley was constantly with me, underfoot, or lolling about in the shade while I trained the grooms and horses. His good-natured, easy-going disposition made him a favorite.
Mush always teased me, and the other fellas followed suit, usually mocking my Texas drawl or something like that. But I didn't mind too much. It was all in good fun.
Spot hadn't been around much since Riley had come along, and that was fine with me. I enjoyed the carefree afternoons and exciting mornings that my life now consisted of.
One afternoon, as I walked toward the square with Race and Mush, Riley close at our heels, I saw the other boys up ahead, beside the statue of Horace Greeley, shooting craps and playing stickball. I grinned as Race and Mush darted ahead, complaining loudly at having been left out. The games were put on hold for a few seconds, with the addition of three new players.
There seemed to be a few more faces here today, some of which looked familiar, but I didn't much notice.
I took a place near Kid Blink, who was up to bat, and heard him give a good-natured remark about never winning when a girl was on your team.
"Really?" I hollered at him, playing along, "Guess that's cause you ain't never played with this gal."
The catcher behind him chuckled softly. I started as I saw the red suspenders and blue eyes. Spot punched his palm and yelled to the pitcher to get going. I shook my head and glanced at Mush, who had a worried expression in his brown eyes. I gave a laid back grin in his direction, reassuring him.
The game began, with Blink hitting a single. Mush was up to bat next, and I laughed as he yawned and stretched his muscular arms. He grinned and tipped his hat to me. Jack whistled suggestively, and the boys all laughed.
Mush's first pitch sent the ball way into the street, and he made it to third base before the ball was recovered. I heard Spot swear as David's throw fell short, and Mush tagged home. I grinned and shook my head sadly as he turned and bowed jocularly in my direction.
After Skittery and Bumlets, I took my position at the plate. First pitch was a strike, and the next was high and outside. I struck and missed. Spot chuckled behind me. Gripping the stick with determination, I focused as the last pitch came. Smack!
I saw the ball sail over David's head into the street, and I fired around the bases. The boys hooted and shouted, and I lowered my head and pumped my legs harder. Nearing home plate, I saw little Chance get the ball and send it sailing toward home. I took one last leap and slid in. My foot touched the bag at the exact time Spot tagged me with the ball. Much harder than necessary, actually.
I heard several boys yell 'out', and I angrily stood to my feet. Spot lifted his arms and stuck his nose right in my face in what was clearly an expression that said, "What now? Whatcha gonna do?"
That's it. I was done. I stood taller and stepped up to him deliberately, and gave his chest a shove. The other boys gasped. Spot, furious, dove back in toward me, his face livid.
Riley, who had been resting in the shade, suddenly came alive, leaping in between me and my nemesis, bringing him to an abrupt halt. The dog began to snarl ferociously at Spot, teeth bared in a frightening manner, his curly black fur bristling on his back.
"Guys, guys! That's enough." Jack grabbed Spot back and pushed me away. "Game over for today, fellas. Get your dog away, Marty." He gave me a look that said he clearly was not pleased about having to deal with this...again.
Loud protests filled the air, but the boys began to disperse. Spot's face was a storm as I glanced at it, but I chuckled amiably and shook my head, making him all the madder.
"We ain't finished, Texas. You ain't seen the last of Spot Conlon!"
He and his boys left in a huff, their danders all up cause of a stupid game. The rest of the newsies stood around awkwardly, then began to start a card game. Instigated by Racetrack, of course.
Mush, with a troubled look in his dark eyes, motioned for me to come with him. With a sigh I called to the dog and walked with him alone down the sidewalk. We walked in silence for a while, but when we were nearing the park, Mush sat down beneath a small tree. Riley began to sniff and inspect the nearest bushes, looking for food. He kept looking back at us every once in a while, his comical expressions making me want to laugh out loud.
We watched him a while before Mush spoke. Then:
"Ya know, for someone so laid back and quiet, you sure can get Spot's nickers in a knot. Pleae, Marty, we need to keep on Brooklyn's good side! I told you Spot is a good fella, and he is. But he can only be pushed just so far before he'll start to take advantage of the game you're playing. I've been tryin' to smooth things over here, Marty, cause both of you are my friends." He mussed his tightly curled brown hair, and I could see splashes of gold in the rich brown locks. His white shirt was halfway unbuttoned, and looked as if he had grown way out of it. Which he probably had.
"Mush, you know I haven't been instigating anything, here. I go with the flow on these things. Now, I ain't lookin to make any enemies, but I don't just take what I'm given all the time. This doesn't have anything to do with Manhattan's relationship with Brooklyn."
"Marty," Mush exclaimed, his voice tinged with frustration, "You have to be careful. You can't keep...I don't know, baiting him like that, i guess. You are going to get into trouble and someone might get hurt…or worse."
With a snort, I rolled my eyes at his concern. My conscience pricked me slightly, but I ignored it.
"Listen, partner," I drawled dryly, "I can look out for myself and I don't need you to tell me anything, thank ya kindly. He ain't got no right to be like that. I haven't done nothing to him."
I turned to swagger off, but was jerked back to face him as he gripped my arm. He made me sit down next to him. His vise-like grip made me uncomfortable, and I was lucky that Mush did know his own strength, or I would probably have had a bruise. I couldn't help but look at the massively muscled chest and arms that restrained me. Seems I've been in this position a lot, recently…
"Listen to me." The command was sharp. "I've seen what can happento people who play games wit' Brooklyn. You will not end up like them, even if I have to stop you myself."
His chocolate hazel eyes burned as he held my wrist tightly. He searched my face with an intensity I didn't like, and I squirmed under his grip. I saw beneath his deadly calm a smoldering temper, and it made me slightly uncomfortable. I tried to look defiantly back at him, battling with him mentally with my gaze.
I had only ever before seen the joking, good-natured Mush. But beneath his gentle, quiet exterior, I was starting to see a darker, more frightening side. Although he could sometimes come across as naïve, it was only a front. Mush went deeper. A whole lot deeper.
Just as I was about to attempt to beak free again, I suddenly detected a completely different emotion flit his uncharacteristically stony face. Something in his eyes that I couldn't identify. We faced each other briefly, and my stubbornness began to fade.
Abruptly loosening his grip on my arm, he slowly brought his other hand to my face, gently brushing my cheek. The small touch, soft as it was, made me forget momentarily what on earth I had been planning to say next, and a shiver went up my spine. What is wrong with me?
I hadn't known the kiss was coming, or I might have tried to stop it. As it was, I had just thought of something to say when his lips pressed onto mine, cutting off my words.
Mush's kiss was forceful at first, almost as if he was staking a claim, but his big hand cradled my head gently as he pulled me to him. I fit against him as if I were made to be there. Slowly he lowered me to the soft grass beneath us.
My mind told me to stop this, but I was falling. As I timidly began to kiss him back, Mush deepened the kiss, and I felt a bit lightheaded. Confusing thoughts tumbled around in my head, and I tried to fit them together. When…what…why…
Mush's firm arms held me close, and his hands began to wander. Warnings sounded in my mind somewhere, and I turned my face away, trying to put a stop to this, but I shivered as his lips touched my neck.
Breathless and becoming a little nervous by now, I planted my hands on his chest, and pushed, for the kiss had become quite heated. He didn't move at first, and I began to panic, flashbacks coming back a mile a minute. I gasped and pushed harder, giving a terrified whimper. He suddenly stopped and pulled away. He looked at me, looking a bit surprised, wondering what was wrong.
With shame and bitterness I pushed him away, getting up and wiping my hand across my kiss-swollen lips. So that was it. All the time I had wondered why he had been so kind to me. I was so upset I completely missed the fact that Mush was waiting, the look on his face that of complete and utter vulnerability.
"I...trusted...you." My words were filled with such betrayal and anger that Mush's eyes filled with hurt. He reached out his hand towards me, his face stricken, in a pleading gesture.
"No…please Marty, wait…"
I backed away, almost stumbling over the dumb dog, who was wagging and bouncing around my feet. "St-stay back. Don't come closer..."
"Marty! Please! I never…"
I turned on my heel and ran, Riley close behind, a bewildered look even on his furry face.