Author's Note: Well, I suppose dis is my last author's note for dis story
at least. Wow, I'm finally done wit' it. It took an awful long time, but I
do believe it was worth it. Don't you? Ok, the next story that happens
after this is called Paving The Way. It's not really about Michaela and
Spot, but it's in the same series, so you'll hear about them occasionally,
and eventually another whole story about them. Exciting, eh? Well, I
suppose I should leave you to it. REVIEW!!!!!!! Please, please, please,
review!
Epilogue:
A light breeze ruffled Michaela's hair as she walked through Brooklyn at twilight. Spot walked beside her, absorbed in his own thoughts. Michaela listened to the raindrops trickling off the roofs of the buildings and their footsteps against the docks, and smiled to herself. So, this was really happening. She had really found her brother who she hadn't seen for seven years.
They reached the end of the docks and Michaela stared ahead, taking in the stormy color of the water. The wind was picking up, flinging rain into her face. Michaela took off her hat and threw her head back, refreshed. She sat down and glanced up at her brother who was staring into the water intensely.
"Michael."
He started and his eyes focused in on her instead. He sat down on the dock as well, and gave a lopsided grin, "Spot."
Michaela raised an eyebrow, mentally thinking that she had to ask him about his nickname sometime. She was silent for a moment, then spoke again, turning fully to him and taking a deep breath.
"What 'appened? Mom's not alive is she? Wheah'd youse go? Da leadah of BROOKLYN? How'd dat come 'bout? Wh."
Spot cut her off, laughing. "Wait, wait! Please. One question at a time."
Michaela looked at him, "Where's Mom?"
Spot was silent for a second, and his voice cracked when he spoke again. "Dead." He cleared his throat, turning his head, "She's dead. She got sick aftah we found out 'bout da fiah. Six months latah she died."
Michaela closed her eyes and swallowed. She opened her eyes again, blinking quickly to keep the tears from flowing. "What'd you do?"
"Ran away. I wasn't gonna be sent ta some stupid orphanage. I came heah an' was a thief fer awhile, den I became a newsie an' now I'm da leadah of Brooklyn." Spot said, a touch of pride in his voice.
Michaela half-smiled, then bit her lip, "Um.didja, didja evah find Dad?"
"Yeah." He didn't elaborate, and Michaela filled in the blanks.
Silence reigned for several minutes, and it was broken only by Michaela slipping off her shoes and dipping her feet into the water, kicking them back and forth.
"What 'bout youse?"
"Hm? Oh. Well, aftah da fiah, I was sent ta an orphanage, but I got kicked out, cause I wouldn't behave 'properly'. Den some guys from Midtown taught me ta fight well, an' aftah six months, I left an' was caught stealin' an' put in da refuge. Dere was dis guy dere." Michaela laughed a little, remembering the boy.
"He 'perfected' me thievin' 'bilities, den helped me escape." A shadow passed over her face as she remembered what happened next. She glanced at her brother and decided that part could wait. "Uh, yeah well, den I met up wit' da Harlem newsies, an' was a newsie fer awhile. Dey found out I was a goil an' I got inna fight wit Boxer. Well, den I came heah an' got confused as youse."
"Whaddya gonna do now?" Spot asked bluntly.
"Well, I t'ought maybe I'd head back up ta Midtown, I'd like ta see some of da guys again. Aftah dat.who knows?"
Spot stood up and held his hand out for Michaela. She grabbed it and jumped up. She slipped her feet back into her shoes and they began to walk back.
Spot stopped on the steps of the Lodging House, and Michaela glanced at him to see what the hesitation was. He looked up at her and spoke haltingly, uncomfortable. "Michaela.I don't suppose youse would wanna stay heah fer awhile, wouldja? I mean, I jist found youse an' now yer leavin' again, I t'ink we should get ta know each udder bettah, don't you?"
Michaela peeked up at her brother. He was fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable asking for something that she could easily turn down. *He apparently doesn't share his feelings very often*, she observed.
Spot watched her impatiently, wanting her answer. "Well?"
Michaela grinned at him. "I'd love ta."
Spot grinned back in relief and began to step inside, but stopped again. He looked back at her with mischief in his eyes, and she thought that for one split moment she saw her twin brother again, impish and childlike as always. "I don't suppose ya wanna put yer hair back undah yer hat fer a bit, do ya?"
Michaela glanced up at Michael and, for the first time in years, the mirror caught not only their faces, but their hearts.
THE END
Epilogue:
A light breeze ruffled Michaela's hair as she walked through Brooklyn at twilight. Spot walked beside her, absorbed in his own thoughts. Michaela listened to the raindrops trickling off the roofs of the buildings and their footsteps against the docks, and smiled to herself. So, this was really happening. She had really found her brother who she hadn't seen for seven years.
They reached the end of the docks and Michaela stared ahead, taking in the stormy color of the water. The wind was picking up, flinging rain into her face. Michaela took off her hat and threw her head back, refreshed. She sat down and glanced up at her brother who was staring into the water intensely.
"Michael."
He started and his eyes focused in on her instead. He sat down on the dock as well, and gave a lopsided grin, "Spot."
Michaela raised an eyebrow, mentally thinking that she had to ask him about his nickname sometime. She was silent for a moment, then spoke again, turning fully to him and taking a deep breath.
"What 'appened? Mom's not alive is she? Wheah'd youse go? Da leadah of BROOKLYN? How'd dat come 'bout? Wh."
Spot cut her off, laughing. "Wait, wait! Please. One question at a time."
Michaela looked at him, "Where's Mom?"
Spot was silent for a second, and his voice cracked when he spoke again. "Dead." He cleared his throat, turning his head, "She's dead. She got sick aftah we found out 'bout da fiah. Six months latah she died."
Michaela closed her eyes and swallowed. She opened her eyes again, blinking quickly to keep the tears from flowing. "What'd you do?"
"Ran away. I wasn't gonna be sent ta some stupid orphanage. I came heah an' was a thief fer awhile, den I became a newsie an' now I'm da leadah of Brooklyn." Spot said, a touch of pride in his voice.
Michaela half-smiled, then bit her lip, "Um.didja, didja evah find Dad?"
"Yeah." He didn't elaborate, and Michaela filled in the blanks.
Silence reigned for several minutes, and it was broken only by Michaela slipping off her shoes and dipping her feet into the water, kicking them back and forth.
"What 'bout youse?"
"Hm? Oh. Well, aftah da fiah, I was sent ta an orphanage, but I got kicked out, cause I wouldn't behave 'properly'. Den some guys from Midtown taught me ta fight well, an' aftah six months, I left an' was caught stealin' an' put in da refuge. Dere was dis guy dere." Michaela laughed a little, remembering the boy.
"He 'perfected' me thievin' 'bilities, den helped me escape." A shadow passed over her face as she remembered what happened next. She glanced at her brother and decided that part could wait. "Uh, yeah well, den I met up wit' da Harlem newsies, an' was a newsie fer awhile. Dey found out I was a goil an' I got inna fight wit Boxer. Well, den I came heah an' got confused as youse."
"Whaddya gonna do now?" Spot asked bluntly.
"Well, I t'ought maybe I'd head back up ta Midtown, I'd like ta see some of da guys again. Aftah dat.who knows?"
Spot stood up and held his hand out for Michaela. She grabbed it and jumped up. She slipped her feet back into her shoes and they began to walk back.
Spot stopped on the steps of the Lodging House, and Michaela glanced at him to see what the hesitation was. He looked up at her and spoke haltingly, uncomfortable. "Michaela.I don't suppose youse would wanna stay heah fer awhile, wouldja? I mean, I jist found youse an' now yer leavin' again, I t'ink we should get ta know each udder bettah, don't you?"
Michaela peeked up at her brother. He was fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable asking for something that she could easily turn down. *He apparently doesn't share his feelings very often*, she observed.
Spot watched her impatiently, wanting her answer. "Well?"
Michaela grinned at him. "I'd love ta."
Spot grinned back in relief and began to step inside, but stopped again. He looked back at her with mischief in his eyes, and she thought that for one split moment she saw her twin brother again, impish and childlike as always. "I don't suppose ya wanna put yer hair back undah yer hat fer a bit, do ya?"
Michaela glanced up at Michael and, for the first time in years, the mirror caught not only their faces, but their hearts.
THE END
