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Sketch looked up from his craps game, groaning over his losses as he did so, but he broke off mid-groan as he noticed the tall figure walking up to them. He jumped to his feet, the other boys looking up at him curiously, but when they saw the person, they too followed his example. "Heya Wolf! Nothin' happened. Very uneventful." Quincy said reassuringly. Wolf smiled and put his hand on his back, then walked up to Sketch. Sketch gulped as Wolf's intense eyes focused on him. "An' how you doin' Mike? Did da boys give you any trouble?" He asked quietly, looking at the boys out of the corner of his eye. "Aw no Wolf! Dey've been great! No pressure ner nothin'. Everytin's smooth." Sketch said quickly, but earnestly. It was true. The boys had accepted him into their family on faith that Wolf said it was well.
Wolf smiled again and nodded, placing a hand on Sketch's shoulder. "Good kid. Dats good. Who wants some grub?" Wolf cried out. The boys yelled their approval and Sketch followed them as they ran around the corner to the nearest restaurant. An hour later, after telling all the stories of what had happened during the few days, the boys dissipated, Wolf insisting that they have some quiet time by themselves to think of their next job. He also jostled Ross' arm with a wink saying, "Yeah an' while yer at it Ross, go an' see yer goil. She'll be wantin' ta see ya right 'bout now. You slick Casanova." Ross blushed a deep red as the boys howled loudly and winked at Mike. "You wanna come? You'll hafta wait outside obviously, but still. Please come Mike! I git so neivous an' I need somebody ta tawk me outta runnin' away!" Ross pleaded. The boys around him laughed loudly at Ross' outburst, and even Wolf couldn't repress a chuckle. "Sure I'll come Ross. No problem." Sketch laughed, following Ross as he scuffled away.
After walking to the Queens district the two boys stopped outside a large building. The sign on it read, QUEENS GIRL'S ORPHANAGE. Ross ran his fingers through his hair nervously, then picked up a rock on the road, looked down both sides of the street. When he was sure no one was watching, he looked over at Sketch nervously. "Here goes nothin'." He muttered. Then he closed his eyes briefly, before opening them and pitching the rock against a certain window. He waited a few moments before backing away. "Well she must not be in dere. Oh well, lets cheese it Mike. We tried." Sketch grabbed a firm hold of Ross' arm. "No come on! Give her a minute. Pitch anudda rock up dere. Harder dis time." Ross looked at him as if he were crazy. "Have you lost yer marbles? If one of dem school marms was in dere she'd catch it, an' I'D catch it! Plus I might break da winda if I pitch it any harder." Sketch furrowed his forehead in thought before grinning and reaching into his pocket.
"Here, lemme do it." Ross looked at him curiously, then his face cleared as he saw Sketch pull out a slingshot and a marble. "I shoulda known dat you'd have a good idea like dat Mike." He said gratefully. Sketch grinned as he fit the marble in the slingshot, aiming carefully, and letting the rubber band fly. The marble sailed up at the window and hit it with a sharp ping. Ross winced, but all apprehension flew away as a pretty girl opened the window. Her long red curls hung over her shoulders, her face rosy, and her green eyes flashing excitedly made a bewitching effect. "Oh Ross! Ya did come! I was afraid that ya wouldn't git tha chance ta! Wait there an' I'll be with ya in a moment!" She yelled down in an obvious Irish brogue, tearing away from the window in a passion.
Ross grinned and looked over a Sketch, pointing towards the empty window proudly. "Dats my goil." He said. Sketch grinned and began to back away. "When do ya want me ta come aroun'?" Sketch asked. Ross shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. I tell ya what, jest go back ta da meetin' spot when yer ready. Don't worry 'bout me. I'll be dere soon. See ya Mike!" He called as the girl rushed out of the building and flew to him, wrapping her arms around him. Sketch smiled as Ross placed his hands around her thin waist and lifted her in the air. Sketch shook his head as the girl giggled and begged him to let her down before walking away.
His father did that to his mother when she least expected it. She might have just come back into the kitchen in a foul mood after putting the younger boys to bed and Spot would rush up to her, kiss her fiercely and throw her in the air over his shoulder. She would yell and tell him to let her down, all the while she laughed happily. Spot would turn to Sketch and wink, before walking out of the house with her still on his shoulder. Sketch knew that he would let her down before long and the two would do what they'd always done almost every evening since they'd married. They would take a long walk on the beach, talking about what had happened, their worries, their cares, telling each other their soul's secrets.
Sketch shook his head. He could almost hear his father telling him that in order to have a wife and keep her, he had to respect her, that was the only way it would work. "I leained da hard way." Spot would laugh, tossing his head in Blue's direction. Sketch stopped in his tracks, then leapt into an alley, his heart jumping in his chest. He had heard his father's voice. It was near, just behind the alley he hid in. "Windy, you sure you ain't seen Sketch?" His father's voice was strained, almost weak, much to Sketch's amazement. "I'm tellin' ya Spot, if I had seen him I woulda told ya. You know dat." Sketch leaned closer to the wall to hear the conversation. "I know I know ya would. I jest, I don't know where he coulda gone. He jest vanished. I know it's my fault. It's gotta be." Windy laughed. "Come on Spot! Yer da rula of Brooklyn. You have common sense an' yer sayin' dat yer kid ran off because of ya? Dat ain't right."
Spot's voice tensed. "I ain't rula of Brooklyn no more Windy. Flames is." Sketch drew his breath in sharply and he slammed his fist into the wall.
So, he had made his precious little boy king of Brooklyn huh? Well let him moan and groan. I ain't neva coming back. Sketch thought.
"I jest need ta find him Windy. You'll tell me if ya see him." Spot said quickly. " 'Course Conlon. You know I will." Windy replied. "Thanks Windy." Spot said quietly. "No problem Conlon. Say hello ta Blue woncha?" Sketch saw his father nod as he walked away. His father wasn't the same as he had last seen him. He seemed older, his shoulders' hunched, his head hanging dejectedly. For a glistening moment, Sketch actually felt pain for his father, but he thrust it aside angrily. "He don't need me, an' I don't need him." He said angrily, slinking off into the shadows, trying to put his father's dejected form out of his mind.
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Sketch looked up from his craps game, groaning over his losses as he did so, but he broke off mid-groan as he noticed the tall figure walking up to them. He jumped to his feet, the other boys looking up at him curiously, but when they saw the person, they too followed his example. "Heya Wolf! Nothin' happened. Very uneventful." Quincy said reassuringly. Wolf smiled and put his hand on his back, then walked up to Sketch. Sketch gulped as Wolf's intense eyes focused on him. "An' how you doin' Mike? Did da boys give you any trouble?" He asked quietly, looking at the boys out of the corner of his eye. "Aw no Wolf! Dey've been great! No pressure ner nothin'. Everytin's smooth." Sketch said quickly, but earnestly. It was true. The boys had accepted him into their family on faith that Wolf said it was well.
Wolf smiled again and nodded, placing a hand on Sketch's shoulder. "Good kid. Dats good. Who wants some grub?" Wolf cried out. The boys yelled their approval and Sketch followed them as they ran around the corner to the nearest restaurant. An hour later, after telling all the stories of what had happened during the few days, the boys dissipated, Wolf insisting that they have some quiet time by themselves to think of their next job. He also jostled Ross' arm with a wink saying, "Yeah an' while yer at it Ross, go an' see yer goil. She'll be wantin' ta see ya right 'bout now. You slick Casanova." Ross blushed a deep red as the boys howled loudly and winked at Mike. "You wanna come? You'll hafta wait outside obviously, but still. Please come Mike! I git so neivous an' I need somebody ta tawk me outta runnin' away!" Ross pleaded. The boys around him laughed loudly at Ross' outburst, and even Wolf couldn't repress a chuckle. "Sure I'll come Ross. No problem." Sketch laughed, following Ross as he scuffled away.
After walking to the Queens district the two boys stopped outside a large building. The sign on it read, QUEENS GIRL'S ORPHANAGE. Ross ran his fingers through his hair nervously, then picked up a rock on the road, looked down both sides of the street. When he was sure no one was watching, he looked over at Sketch nervously. "Here goes nothin'." He muttered. Then he closed his eyes briefly, before opening them and pitching the rock against a certain window. He waited a few moments before backing away. "Well she must not be in dere. Oh well, lets cheese it Mike. We tried." Sketch grabbed a firm hold of Ross' arm. "No come on! Give her a minute. Pitch anudda rock up dere. Harder dis time." Ross looked at him as if he were crazy. "Have you lost yer marbles? If one of dem school marms was in dere she'd catch it, an' I'D catch it! Plus I might break da winda if I pitch it any harder." Sketch furrowed his forehead in thought before grinning and reaching into his pocket.
"Here, lemme do it." Ross looked at him curiously, then his face cleared as he saw Sketch pull out a slingshot and a marble. "I shoulda known dat you'd have a good idea like dat Mike." He said gratefully. Sketch grinned as he fit the marble in the slingshot, aiming carefully, and letting the rubber band fly. The marble sailed up at the window and hit it with a sharp ping. Ross winced, but all apprehension flew away as a pretty girl opened the window. Her long red curls hung over her shoulders, her face rosy, and her green eyes flashing excitedly made a bewitching effect. "Oh Ross! Ya did come! I was afraid that ya wouldn't git tha chance ta! Wait there an' I'll be with ya in a moment!" She yelled down in an obvious Irish brogue, tearing away from the window in a passion.
Ross grinned and looked over a Sketch, pointing towards the empty window proudly. "Dats my goil." He said. Sketch grinned and began to back away. "When do ya want me ta come aroun'?" Sketch asked. Ross shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. I tell ya what, jest go back ta da meetin' spot when yer ready. Don't worry 'bout me. I'll be dere soon. See ya Mike!" He called as the girl rushed out of the building and flew to him, wrapping her arms around him. Sketch smiled as Ross placed his hands around her thin waist and lifted her in the air. Sketch shook his head as the girl giggled and begged him to let her down before walking away.
His father did that to his mother when she least expected it. She might have just come back into the kitchen in a foul mood after putting the younger boys to bed and Spot would rush up to her, kiss her fiercely and throw her in the air over his shoulder. She would yell and tell him to let her down, all the while she laughed happily. Spot would turn to Sketch and wink, before walking out of the house with her still on his shoulder. Sketch knew that he would let her down before long and the two would do what they'd always done almost every evening since they'd married. They would take a long walk on the beach, talking about what had happened, their worries, their cares, telling each other their soul's secrets.
Sketch shook his head. He could almost hear his father telling him that in order to have a wife and keep her, he had to respect her, that was the only way it would work. "I leained da hard way." Spot would laugh, tossing his head in Blue's direction. Sketch stopped in his tracks, then leapt into an alley, his heart jumping in his chest. He had heard his father's voice. It was near, just behind the alley he hid in. "Windy, you sure you ain't seen Sketch?" His father's voice was strained, almost weak, much to Sketch's amazement. "I'm tellin' ya Spot, if I had seen him I woulda told ya. You know dat." Sketch leaned closer to the wall to hear the conversation. "I know I know ya would. I jest, I don't know where he coulda gone. He jest vanished. I know it's my fault. It's gotta be." Windy laughed. "Come on Spot! Yer da rula of Brooklyn. You have common sense an' yer sayin' dat yer kid ran off because of ya? Dat ain't right."
Spot's voice tensed. "I ain't rula of Brooklyn no more Windy. Flames is." Sketch drew his breath in sharply and he slammed his fist into the wall.
So, he had made his precious little boy king of Brooklyn huh? Well let him moan and groan. I ain't neva coming back. Sketch thought.
"I jest need ta find him Windy. You'll tell me if ya see him." Spot said quickly. " 'Course Conlon. You know I will." Windy replied. "Thanks Windy." Spot said quietly. "No problem Conlon. Say hello ta Blue woncha?" Sketch saw his father nod as he walked away. His father wasn't the same as he had last seen him. He seemed older, his shoulders' hunched, his head hanging dejectedly. For a glistening moment, Sketch actually felt pain for his father, but he thrust it aside angrily. "He don't need me, an' I don't need him." He said angrily, slinking off into the shadows, trying to put his father's dejected form out of his mind.
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