That December came and went, and with it brought a new year and new changes. Spot became less and less like his commanding self when he was with Blue and slowly but surely, Blue softened and became appreciative of the Brooklyn leader's friendship. She had never felt that way before. She had never seen the real purpose of friends. To her they either left or they died before long. She never saw the point of them. She had tried to forget that with Bright Eyes and Bright Eyes had proved her theory. She had never wanted another friend. An acquaintance maybe, but not a friend. Spot changed that. To Blue, Spot was constant. He never broke his promises and always kept his word about everything. It was a duty to him. He was the leader of Brooklyn and in order to stay there, he had to keep his promises, even if it was to a girl.
Bright Eyes was now not the only thing the two felt the same about. There were many other things, but still, Bright Eyes was a subject most often avoided by the two. But occasionally she did come up and when it did, all hell seemed to break loose. Finally the two had come to an amicable way to talk about Bright Eyes. Blue had finally accepted Spot's way of thinking and refused to say Bright Eyes' name. Instead Bright Eyes became, 'the goil' or 'she' with emphasis so Spot knew which 'she' Blue was talking about. It was easier for Blue that way. Not only Blue but Spot, who, if he had his way, would just wipe Bright Eyes clean from the face of the earth. But that was not meant to be, for the subject of Bright Eyes became popular that December. The December that was known later as the 'December of Reunions'.
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December
"Spot, here's yer coat! It's freezin' out dere! An' here's yer gift fer Fish. Don't fergit!" Blue yelled, tossing Spot's thin coat to him. He caught it easily and slipped it on, all the while giving last minute instructions to Red. He walked up to Blue and took the present from her hands. "An' don't fergit ta tell da boys Merry Christmas from me. An' don't worry 'bout Brooklyn, we'll be fine. Ya kin leave fer a couple hours, not like a fire's gonna come an' wipe us offa da face of da eaith." Blue said with a smile. "Blue yer bein' bossy. I don't like it when yer bossy." Spot said soberly.
Blue rolled her eyes. "Yer such an idiot. I ain't bossin'. I'm remindin'." She retorted. "Yeah Spot, widout her remindin' ya, you'd probably fergit yer head uddawise." Red joked. Spot rolled his eyes and smacked him before turning back to Blue. "You sure ya don't wanna come?" He asked quietly. Blue's face hardened. "Yeah. Jest wish 'em luck an' have fun." She said. Spot grinned. "Ya sound like me Mama or sometin'. Knock it off!" He said. She smiled and smacked him. "It's gonna be too late if ya don't quit jawin' an' leave!" She said, opening the door. Spot grinned and ran out into the falling snow. Blue stood in a doorway for a few moments and watched him before closing it. She wished she could go to Manhattan with Spot, but whenever she went back there, it opened old wounds. The pain of Bright Eyes' departure was just now easing, she didn't want it reopened.
Blue got up early the next morning with the other boys from the Lodging House to exchange the few presents they had manage to get a hold of. The older children always managed to get the younger children presents first before getting things for the elder children. It just seemed fitting. Blue was certainly pleased with the turnout of things she received. From Red, there was a new scarf that he had, 'found'. She knew he had bought it, for she had seen him fingering the same one at a vendor stand that cost five cents. But she didn't let him know and instead smiled and thanked him. From Windy there was a set of cards with a beautifully painted castle that was in a place called 'India'. Blue had no idea where or if there even was a place called India, but she thanked him all the same. From Tinker, there were thick pieces of wool. When she held them up and asked him what they were he smiled and replied, "Dey're linin' fer yer shoes so dat da snow don't git in as good." He said. The entire company laughed and Blue gave him a quick hug.
The presents for Spot were placed out of the way till he came home. When he didn't show for a while, the boys decided to go sell their papes, then quickly come back. Blue was just looking around for her coat so that she could join them when she heard the front door of the Lodging House slam. She peered around the corner and Spot quickly turned the corner and slammed the door of what the boys had christened, "The Parlor". She quietly opened the door and looked in. Spot was sitting in a slowly disintegrating armchair, his head in his hands. She quietly closed the door and approached him. "Whassa matta Spot?" She asked softly. Usually he always knew when anyone was in the room with him, but this time he started and looked at her as if he hadn't even known she'd entered.
When he didn't answer she walked over to him and sat in the chair across from him. "Spot. What?" He didn't look at her for a time, but finally his gray-green eyes flitted to her own. "I killed Fish." He whispered. Blue's eyes widened. "What?" She whispered. "I done killed him Blue. I committed moida. I did. I shoulda stopped. I heaid him yellin'. But no I had ta keep runnin'. I always run! I'm sech a cowad! I am! I'm always runnin' from what I'm afraid of! Dat poor little kid." He murmured as his head fell back in his hands. Blue stared at him in shock, before touching his hand. He brought his hands off of his face and looked at her. "Ya ain't makin' sense Spot. Tell me what happened." Spot waved his hands. "No. I gotta stawt at da beginnin'. Blue, Bright Eyes is back." He said. Blue's hands were thrust up to her mouth. "Yer kiddin' Conlon." She whispered.
Spot shook his head. "No. She's back. She's nothin' but a scabba. She's been livin' it up in Chicago or some fool place. She's some kinda writa. Don't make no difference. She ain't neva gonna be Bright Eyes ta me!" As Spot threw his bag to the floor, a few of the contents fell to the ground. Blue picked up a photograph and eyed the figures in it. Spot looked down at her. "She gave me dat. Some udda stuff." He muttered. "What is dis stuff?" Blue asked, looking up at him. Spot turned around, looking at the snow drifting out the window. "My stuff. Me sista's , brudda's, me Mama's an' Papa's." He said quietly. Blue stared at him. "Dis is you?" She whispered holding up the photograph.
Spot looked down at her and pulled his chair closer to hers so that he could see the photo. "Yeah. Dats Martha an' Janey. An' me brudda Francis." He said quietly, pointing to the smiling figures. "An' dats yer Mama an' Papa?" Blue asked. Spot bent down further. "Yeah. Mama was a cawd Blue. Ya woulda liked her. She was great. Da best Mama in da woild. Same wit' Papa. Mama didn't folla nobody else's rules. Always did tings her own way." Spot said with a reminicent smile. "Huh, I wondaed where ya got it from." Blue teased, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the woman who resembled Spot closely. Spot smacked her gently, but his hand stayed on hers.
Suddenly Blue was aware of Spot's gentle breathing on her cheek. She turned and he was only a few feet away from her, gazing at the picture. She stared at her as if sudden realization had dawned on her. He looked at her and it seemed like an eternity. Blue suddenly jumped up from her seat. "Did I git sometin'?" She asked quickly. Spot looked at her, and he seemed to wake up as he thrust the bag at her. "Yeah, yer name's on yers." He said. "Danks, I'm jest gonna go upstairs an' look at 'em." She said quickly, moving towards the stairs. Spot didn't look at her as he spoke. "Be sure ta wrap up. It's likely ta be coldest up dere in dat fool attic." He murmured. Blue stared at him, then ran up the stairs, the bag clutched in her hands.
Later that evening, Spot told Blue everything that had happened. The touching scene between Racetrack and Bright Eyes, the episode with the presents and finally ending with Fish who had chased him and fallen. "He's gotta be dead Blue. I saw it. All dat blood. Dere's jest no way he coulda survived dat." He muttered in his hands. Blue didn't speak, but merely nodded. The story seemed too real, too good to be true. Almost. The last time she had seen Bright Eyes was when she was fifteen. She felt older than her sixteen years and stronger. She thought she had finally put Bright Eyes behind her and now here she came, prancing back into Manhattan. With firm resolve, she promised herself that she would never be able to see or forgive Bright Eyes. She had inflicted too much pain upon her soul to be forgiven. But a curious thing had caused anger in her heart as well. She disliked Bright Eyes because of the pain she had caused Spot. That was what confused her. Why did she care about the Brooklyn leader? She was just a mere friend, nothing like what he and Bright Eyes had been or what he and Red were, just friends.
"What am I gonna do Blue? I denounced her. Denounced her in front of all da boys. But I had ta. I had ta. She don't desieve me forgiveness. What am I gonna do?" He muttered. Blue didn't respond, but placed her hand on his bent back. She didn't think that words would help him now. He had poured out his soul's worries to her, she couldn't think about Bright Eyes now. Spot needed someone, and it might as well be her.
Bright Eyes was now not the only thing the two felt the same about. There were many other things, but still, Bright Eyes was a subject most often avoided by the two. But occasionally she did come up and when it did, all hell seemed to break loose. Finally the two had come to an amicable way to talk about Bright Eyes. Blue had finally accepted Spot's way of thinking and refused to say Bright Eyes' name. Instead Bright Eyes became, 'the goil' or 'she' with emphasis so Spot knew which 'she' Blue was talking about. It was easier for Blue that way. Not only Blue but Spot, who, if he had his way, would just wipe Bright Eyes clean from the face of the earth. But that was not meant to be, for the subject of Bright Eyes became popular that December. The December that was known later as the 'December of Reunions'.
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December
"Spot, here's yer coat! It's freezin' out dere! An' here's yer gift fer Fish. Don't fergit!" Blue yelled, tossing Spot's thin coat to him. He caught it easily and slipped it on, all the while giving last minute instructions to Red. He walked up to Blue and took the present from her hands. "An' don't fergit ta tell da boys Merry Christmas from me. An' don't worry 'bout Brooklyn, we'll be fine. Ya kin leave fer a couple hours, not like a fire's gonna come an' wipe us offa da face of da eaith." Blue said with a smile. "Blue yer bein' bossy. I don't like it when yer bossy." Spot said soberly.
Blue rolled her eyes. "Yer such an idiot. I ain't bossin'. I'm remindin'." She retorted. "Yeah Spot, widout her remindin' ya, you'd probably fergit yer head uddawise." Red joked. Spot rolled his eyes and smacked him before turning back to Blue. "You sure ya don't wanna come?" He asked quietly. Blue's face hardened. "Yeah. Jest wish 'em luck an' have fun." She said. Spot grinned. "Ya sound like me Mama or sometin'. Knock it off!" He said. She smiled and smacked him. "It's gonna be too late if ya don't quit jawin' an' leave!" She said, opening the door. Spot grinned and ran out into the falling snow. Blue stood in a doorway for a few moments and watched him before closing it. She wished she could go to Manhattan with Spot, but whenever she went back there, it opened old wounds. The pain of Bright Eyes' departure was just now easing, she didn't want it reopened.
Blue got up early the next morning with the other boys from the Lodging House to exchange the few presents they had manage to get a hold of. The older children always managed to get the younger children presents first before getting things for the elder children. It just seemed fitting. Blue was certainly pleased with the turnout of things she received. From Red, there was a new scarf that he had, 'found'. She knew he had bought it, for she had seen him fingering the same one at a vendor stand that cost five cents. But she didn't let him know and instead smiled and thanked him. From Windy there was a set of cards with a beautifully painted castle that was in a place called 'India'. Blue had no idea where or if there even was a place called India, but she thanked him all the same. From Tinker, there were thick pieces of wool. When she held them up and asked him what they were he smiled and replied, "Dey're linin' fer yer shoes so dat da snow don't git in as good." He said. The entire company laughed and Blue gave him a quick hug.
The presents for Spot were placed out of the way till he came home. When he didn't show for a while, the boys decided to go sell their papes, then quickly come back. Blue was just looking around for her coat so that she could join them when she heard the front door of the Lodging House slam. She peered around the corner and Spot quickly turned the corner and slammed the door of what the boys had christened, "The Parlor". She quietly opened the door and looked in. Spot was sitting in a slowly disintegrating armchair, his head in his hands. She quietly closed the door and approached him. "Whassa matta Spot?" She asked softly. Usually he always knew when anyone was in the room with him, but this time he started and looked at her as if he hadn't even known she'd entered.
When he didn't answer she walked over to him and sat in the chair across from him. "Spot. What?" He didn't look at her for a time, but finally his gray-green eyes flitted to her own. "I killed Fish." He whispered. Blue's eyes widened. "What?" She whispered. "I done killed him Blue. I committed moida. I did. I shoulda stopped. I heaid him yellin'. But no I had ta keep runnin'. I always run! I'm sech a cowad! I am! I'm always runnin' from what I'm afraid of! Dat poor little kid." He murmured as his head fell back in his hands. Blue stared at him in shock, before touching his hand. He brought his hands off of his face and looked at her. "Ya ain't makin' sense Spot. Tell me what happened." Spot waved his hands. "No. I gotta stawt at da beginnin'. Blue, Bright Eyes is back." He said. Blue's hands were thrust up to her mouth. "Yer kiddin' Conlon." She whispered.
Spot shook his head. "No. She's back. She's nothin' but a scabba. She's been livin' it up in Chicago or some fool place. She's some kinda writa. Don't make no difference. She ain't neva gonna be Bright Eyes ta me!" As Spot threw his bag to the floor, a few of the contents fell to the ground. Blue picked up a photograph and eyed the figures in it. Spot looked down at her. "She gave me dat. Some udda stuff." He muttered. "What is dis stuff?" Blue asked, looking up at him. Spot turned around, looking at the snow drifting out the window. "My stuff. Me sista's , brudda's, me Mama's an' Papa's." He said quietly. Blue stared at him. "Dis is you?" She whispered holding up the photograph.
Spot looked down at her and pulled his chair closer to hers so that he could see the photo. "Yeah. Dats Martha an' Janey. An' me brudda Francis." He said quietly, pointing to the smiling figures. "An' dats yer Mama an' Papa?" Blue asked. Spot bent down further. "Yeah. Mama was a cawd Blue. Ya woulda liked her. She was great. Da best Mama in da woild. Same wit' Papa. Mama didn't folla nobody else's rules. Always did tings her own way." Spot said with a reminicent smile. "Huh, I wondaed where ya got it from." Blue teased, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the woman who resembled Spot closely. Spot smacked her gently, but his hand stayed on hers.
Suddenly Blue was aware of Spot's gentle breathing on her cheek. She turned and he was only a few feet away from her, gazing at the picture. She stared at her as if sudden realization had dawned on her. He looked at her and it seemed like an eternity. Blue suddenly jumped up from her seat. "Did I git sometin'?" She asked quickly. Spot looked at her, and he seemed to wake up as he thrust the bag at her. "Yeah, yer name's on yers." He said. "Danks, I'm jest gonna go upstairs an' look at 'em." She said quickly, moving towards the stairs. Spot didn't look at her as he spoke. "Be sure ta wrap up. It's likely ta be coldest up dere in dat fool attic." He murmured. Blue stared at him, then ran up the stairs, the bag clutched in her hands.
Later that evening, Spot told Blue everything that had happened. The touching scene between Racetrack and Bright Eyes, the episode with the presents and finally ending with Fish who had chased him and fallen. "He's gotta be dead Blue. I saw it. All dat blood. Dere's jest no way he coulda survived dat." He muttered in his hands. Blue didn't speak, but merely nodded. The story seemed too real, too good to be true. Almost. The last time she had seen Bright Eyes was when she was fifteen. She felt older than her sixteen years and stronger. She thought she had finally put Bright Eyes behind her and now here she came, prancing back into Manhattan. With firm resolve, she promised herself that she would never be able to see or forgive Bright Eyes. She had inflicted too much pain upon her soul to be forgiven. But a curious thing had caused anger in her heart as well. She disliked Bright Eyes because of the pain she had caused Spot. That was what confused her. Why did she care about the Brooklyn leader? She was just a mere friend, nothing like what he and Bright Eyes had been or what he and Red were, just friends.
"What am I gonna do Blue? I denounced her. Denounced her in front of all da boys. But I had ta. I had ta. She don't desieve me forgiveness. What am I gonna do?" He muttered. Blue didn't respond, but placed her hand on his bent back. She didn't think that words would help him now. He had poured out his soul's worries to her, she couldn't think about Bright Eyes now. Spot needed someone, and it might as well be her.