DISCLAIMER: None of the characters in the following story belong to me
except for Honey and Flame, so please do not sue me because you will get
nothing but the 67 cents in my pocket.
Switching Spots
Honey sighed and rested her face in her hands as she sat on the bedside of Spot Conlon's bunk. He was the fearless leader of Brooklyn, the King of New York. Most importantly, he was her brother. Honey had moved back to Brooklyn to find him when their mother had died of pneumonia, an illness that now seemed to be striking down her twin sibling right before her eyes. Spot had runaway from home at age 12 because of their abusive stepfather who abandoned Honey and her mother a month later.
"Spot, ya gotta wake up! Yer the only family I'se got." As a tear journeyed down her smooth cheeks, she stroked her brother's hair.
The Brooklyn leader looked up at his twin and smiled. They looked so much alike it scared him. "Don't worry, nuthin knocks down Spot Conlon."
Honey smiled halfheartedly, knowing that the boy was slowly dying even though he tried to hide it. At the most, he only had a month or two left. And to make matters worse, goons from Staten Island were threatening to take over the Brooklyn territory. If they knew that Spot was at his weakest state, they would seize the opportunity to oppress immediately. Just then, Jack Kelly walked into the room. He was the only Manhattan newsie Honey was acquainted with as she had only been a newsie for a month and had mostly stayed secluded in the Brooklyn Lodging House.
"Heya Jacky-boy," Spot said weakly as he tried to sit up on his elbows. The attempt failed and he fell back onto his bed, clearly angered.
"Ah, Spot, stop pushin it. Ya gonna kill yerself!" Jack hurried over to his friend and frowned. The Brooklyn Leader did not seem to be getting better at all.
"Listen Jack, I'se gotta problem. Me boids been tellin me all sorta things about these joiks from Staten Island. Apparently, these scabs intend on seizing me turf. Of coise, I'se aint gonna let that happen, but I can't exactly strut around New Yawk tellin people not tah mess wid Brooklyn. I'se kinda needs someone tah stand in fer me."
"Well how about Dice? He's been yer right hand man ever since youse became the leadah around heah."
Spot thought about it and then shook his head. "Nah, he aint all that good a fightah. Ya see, he's like the thinker of the lot but isn't good at defendin himself."
"Alright. How about.wait! Youse could make it look like ya aint even sick. I mean, if ya make appearances everywhere, no one would be the wiser!" A wide grin spread across Jack's face.
"No shit, but unfortunately, I'se kinda bed-ridden at the moment!" Jack pointed at Honey and nodded his head with the same mischievous grin.
Honey was lost and looked from the Manhattan leader to her brother with wide eyes. "What is youse suggestin," she asked confused.
Spot's eyes narrowed. "Youse gotta be kiddin! Ya actually think I'se gonna let me sistah impersonate me!? There's quite a few ways youse can tell she's a goil!"
"Nuthin baggy shoits can't fix," Jack laughed. He could just imagine all the fun he was going to have with this scheme. Spot rested his head onto his pillow and thought about it. Though a great many cons outweighed the pros, it seemed like the only reasonable answer to his problem. To make people think he was indeed still in good health. His sister would need much training though. But Jack would take care of that. Then a devilish smirk crossed the Brooklyn Leader's face.
"Jacky, it's up tah youse to transform Honey Conlon into the one and only King of New Yawk."
Jack rolled his eyes at the bragging but was glad to hear Spot agree with the unusual idea. Honey's jaw dropped open. They wanted her to act like the leader of New York's toughest newsies for who knew how long!? "Don't worry, Honey," Jack assured her. "I'se gonna teach ya everything."
"That's what I'se afraid of."
* * * * * *
"Heya, Honey," a Brooklyn newsie called out. "Yer hair is comin from under yer hat!"
Honey groaned as she snatched Spot' hat from atop her head and held it between her knees. Then for the fourth time that morning, she tried to jumble her thick blonde hair flat enough so that the hat would fit smoothly over it. This time, it worked out well for her, but she knew she would have to fix it at least twice more throughout the day. Jack came into the Brooklyn lodging house then.
"Spotty, dear, where is youse?" Honey glared at him as she shuffled over to him with slouched shoulders.
"Right heah, Jacky-Boy," she spat.
The Manhattan leader shook his head and sighed. "What kinda walk was that? His high and mighty doesn't walk as if he's some zombie. Youse gotta throw some pride into that stride." Then Jack pulled her aside and told her to watch how he impersonated Spot. He started at one end of the room and then walked suavely, almost machine like, with a dose of nonchalance. His face was monotonous but still held the air of power. His shoulders were back and his chin not too high so that he seemed snobby but not low either so that he looked like a coward. "Youse got that?"
Honey scratched her ear irritably. "Jack, this is stupid. No one's gonna be lookin at the way I walk."
"That's where youse is wrong, Conlon. Every goil's eye is gonna be on youse, watchin yer every move. On top of that, yer enemies measure ya up by the way youse present yerself." The girl rolled her eyes and nodded. She went to the end of the room and then walked exactly as Jack had demonstrated.
"Poifect! I hope youse is a quick learner at everything. Next we sell papes." He started to make his way to the door when he realized Honey wasn't following him. "What's the matter?"
"I'se never sold papes before. Can't we just skip that part?"
Jack looked at her incredously. "Are ya crazy? Sellin papes is what makes a newsie! Don't worry, goil, I'se gonna teach ya all I know."
"That shouldn't take too long then, huh Jack?" a newsie called out. The whole room burst into laughter and Jack smiled sardonically at them all.
* * * * *
"Heya Spot!" Honey froze in her tracks but Jack casually turned to see who had called the name. It was Flame, the leader of the Bronx newsies, and Jack whispered that into Honey's ear quickly.
"Heya Flame," Honey said in her best Spot voice, but it still came out high-pitched. She bit her lip at the mistake.
Flame arched his eyebrows but didn't think anything more of it. "So Spot, youse ready fer our little slingshot contest today?"
Jack's eyes went wide. "That was today?"
The other youth nodded. "Yea, don't back out on us now, Brooklyn."
Honey just stared at him. He was rather handsome. His long black hair reached to chin length and occasionally flew into his eyes as the wind blew. His eyes were dark, and held some mysteriousness about them. He was well built too and stood a few inches taller than her. She didn't realize she was staring until Flame began waving his hand in front of her face.
"Conlon, Conlon," he was saying repeatedly. "Youse okay?"
Jack stood in. "Ah, Flame, Spot's kinda been losin it lately. He just came outta this sickness he had fer a month. Can't ya give him another day until the contest?"
Flame groaned. "Fine, but youse better not play any more games like this again, Conlon." He held Honey's gaze a moment longer until she looked down at her feet. Did he just stare down the fearless leader of Brooklyn? Man, Spot must really be outta his mind. I never saw him so vulnerable. He tried to examine Honey's face from where he stood. There was something wrong here, what was it? But someone called his name then and he had to turn away to walk over to them. When he was out of hearing distance, Honey put her face in her hands.
"God, I was a complete idiot! This is so stupid, I quit!"
"Youse aint quitting cuz Spot still needs yer help. C'mon, it wasn't that bad." He thought about what had just happened in his head. "Well, it did kinda look as if youse were checkin him out. I don't think that fits too well on Spot's reputation."
Honey let herself laugh, but inside she was wondering if she would ever have a chance with Flame if she kept impersonating her brother like this.
* * * * *
"I really aint shoah how youse supposed tah use a slingshot cuz we boys in Manhattan don't have any, but it looks simple enough." He pulled a shooter back on the rubber launcher of the slingshot he held and released. The shooter zoomed by swiftly and broke a beer bottle sitting on one of the piers of the docks.
"Lucky shot," Honey grumbled. She tried her own hand but only succeeded in sending her shooter falling onto her shoes. "I hate this! This is so stupid!"
"Ya know, from now on, I'se gonna count how many times you say that this is stupid. Listen, slingshot skills don't come overnight. How bout we try a game of poker now?" Honey reluctantly agreed and followed him back to the Brooklyn lodging house where Jack dealt a game for himself, Honey, and three other newsies. Honey picked her cards up and stared at them.
"So I'se got two kings, a three, a joker, and a nine. What now?"
The other four players rolled their eyes. "Yer not supposed tah tell the other people what youse gets," one of them said.
"Oh." And so Honey slowly learned the game of poker, even though it took two hours and lots of patience on Jack's part.
* * * * *
Spot stirred in his bed and finally opened his eyes. A shady figure was kneeling before his bed. He waited until his vision cleared and when he saw who it was, he yelled out startled. A complete duplicate of himself! He relaxed after a few seconds, realizing it was his own sister.
"Spot, I'se sorry," she said softly, still kneeling.
"It's all right. Just don't do it again, huh?" He smiled at her and turned on his side to face her. "So, youse enjoying being me?"
"No!" she exclaimed, and she went on to describe how terrible the day's events had been. She ended up shedding tears and Spot had to hold her close to make her feel better. "I'se just afraid that I'se gonna mess things up fer youse."
"Don't worry about it, hun. I shouldn't have pulled ya into this. I'll tell Jack to call the whole thing off."
Honey shook her head. "No, I'se can do it. It's just hard at times, but I know I can do it."
* * * * *
It was Friday night at Medda's and the place was jam packed with newsies from all over New York. Honey tried to smile whenever a girl would greet her and then burst into giggles but the thought that she might have to flirt with newsies of her same sex utterly appalled her. She planned to stay close to the poker tables, where the girls rarely hung out. Just then, a certain newsie caught her eye. It was Flame! He was getting a glass of water at the bar stand across from her and she rushed over to him, forgetting she was supposed to be Spot. When she reached him, she gave him a big smile and squeaked a girlish "hi".
Flame stared at her stunned. "Uh, Spot, youse still feelin sick?"
Honey's eyes went wide. "Oh, uhm, oh!" She crossed her arms nervously. "Heh, I'se feelin a bit lightheaded yeah." She put her hands on her hips then. "Well, I'se gonna play some poker. Buh-bye" She bit her lip again but flashed Flame a sweet smile before running off to the other side of the room.
"Deal me in," Honey said in her best Spot voice yet as she sat down at a poker table. She received her five cards and picked them. "Oh yay!" she exclaimed happily.
The other newsies playing looked at her as if she were on fire. "What's been up wid Spot lately?" one of the newsies whispered into another's ear.
Honey heard the comment and tried to get back into her high and mighty stature. "Heya, this one scab spilled his drink all over me on my way heah. I soaked him good. Gave the bum a nice shiner." The others laughed nervously. This isn't going too well. She rolled her eyes. She would have to engage in 'guy talk'. While the dealer was dealing another game, Honey motioned to a girl standing a few tables away from them. "Heya fellas, I don't think I'se seen a better looking goil than the one over there."
The newsies followed his gaze and then nodded with grins. When they were in the middle of a game, one of the newsies exclaimed, "Hey Spot, that goil youse were checkin out earlier is comin over heah. And from the looks of it, I think she wants tah be more than friends wid youse."
Honey tried to smirk the way Spot always did when he was getting smug, but her expression became more panicked. Before she could do anything, the girl had sat on her lap flirtatiously. "Heya Spot, me friends been talking a lot about youse. Said you were quite the charmer. I wanted tah see fer meself." She leaned in to kiss the would-be Brooklyn leader, but Honey scooted her chair back suddenly and jumped to her feet, causing the other girl to fall hard to the floor. Honey held her hat close to her head and dashed across Irving Hall, looking for Jack.
* * * * *
Slingshot Contest. The two words terrified Honey. She could barely throw a stone ten feet away from her with her own hands; imagine the damage she could do to Spot's reputation with a slingshot. She shifted her weight from one foot to the next as her wide eyes measured up Flame's ability with a slingshot. He's good, she said to herself. Really good! She gulped down hard and looked behind her to where Jack was standing. The Manhattan leader nodded at her for encouragement but it didn't help.
"Yer turn, Conlon." Flame stepped back and waved for Honey to shoot at one of the beer bottles set up on a far off pier of the Brooklyn docks. Honey nodded monotonously and cast a glance at the Brooklyn lodging house. Spot's bed was set up so that he could watch the whole contest from his room, but more so that he could take part in the contest without anyone's knowing. He would launch his shooter simultaneously with Honey's, both aimed at the same bottle, and no one would be the wiser when the bottle was successfully shattered. Honey made her movements dramatic so that her brother would see her. She pulled back the launcher of her slingshot and aimed for the first bottle set up on the right pier. As soon as she let go, she could just barely hear Spot's slingshot snap as well. Since the piers were so far, the shooter wasn't visible after a while, but the broken bottle was enough to show that the target was hit dead on.
Flame nodded. "Not bad, Conlon. Considerin youse been feelin under the weather lately." Then he stepped back up to shoot his next beer bottle and the process continued until the game had ended and both Brooklyn and the Bronx were tied.
"Good job, Flame," Honey said with a smile as she outstretched a hand to shake with the newsie. She was only met with a confused look.
"Uhm, yea. Listen, we'se havin a big poker game in the Bronx next Friday. Ya know Brooklyn is always welcome tah come. Oh, and Spot? Would ya mind sellin papes wid me tomorrow? We'se gotta talk business; seems like Staten Island is startin tah threaten the lesser boroughs."
Honey pursed her lips, much like her brother would do when he was annoyed. "Shoah." Then Flame and his newsies left and she was alone on the docks with Jack. They entered the lodging house to see how Spot was doing. Much to their surprise, he was lying still in his bed, breaking out into a cold sweat. Honey ran to her brother's side in a panic.
"Spot! Oh my god, Jack, what's wrong wid him?!"
"I don't know. Spot! Spot!" He shook the slender newsie rigorously but Spot would not wake up from his dazed state. "Honey, get a pail of cold water from the washroom." The girl ran out of the room and returned less than a minute later carrying what Jack had asked for. Jack took the pail and positioned it just above Spot's face. Then suddenly, he tipped the pail and let the icy water pour out onto the Brooklyn leader's face. Spot woke with a start gasping for air.
Honey wrapped her arms around his neck. "Spot! I thought youse were..." She paused and looked at him with solemn eyes.
"Dead?" Spot ran his fingers through his soaking wet hair and groaned. "I don't know, Jacky-boy. I feel like I'se gonna slip into a coma er sumthin any minute. Things aint goin too well. I'se always dizzy and always scorchin hot. I needs a doctor."
Jack sighed. "I can ask the boys back in Manhattan tah pitch in a few coins tah raise money fer a doctor tah see youse."
"Nah, no one can know I'se sick."
Honey fumed. "Spot! Yer gonna kill yerself eventually. Forget about yer reputation! Ya need tah see a doctor as soon as possible!"
"I don't want nobody raisin charity fer me," Spot replied simply.
Jack shook his head. "I don't care what ya say, Spot. Manhattan aint gonna tell anyone that youse is sick. As a matter of fact, I won't even tell them about the whole scheme of Honey impersonatin youse. I'se just gonna ask fer simple donations 'cause his high and mighty is comin down wid a bad cold."
"Fine," Spot muttered. "As long as nobody knows I'se in bed while me sistah is roamin around as me."
More to come. Please Review!!! I live off of reviews! Thank you, thank you!!!
Switching Spots
Honey sighed and rested her face in her hands as she sat on the bedside of Spot Conlon's bunk. He was the fearless leader of Brooklyn, the King of New York. Most importantly, he was her brother. Honey had moved back to Brooklyn to find him when their mother had died of pneumonia, an illness that now seemed to be striking down her twin sibling right before her eyes. Spot had runaway from home at age 12 because of their abusive stepfather who abandoned Honey and her mother a month later.
"Spot, ya gotta wake up! Yer the only family I'se got." As a tear journeyed down her smooth cheeks, she stroked her brother's hair.
The Brooklyn leader looked up at his twin and smiled. They looked so much alike it scared him. "Don't worry, nuthin knocks down Spot Conlon."
Honey smiled halfheartedly, knowing that the boy was slowly dying even though he tried to hide it. At the most, he only had a month or two left. And to make matters worse, goons from Staten Island were threatening to take over the Brooklyn territory. If they knew that Spot was at his weakest state, they would seize the opportunity to oppress immediately. Just then, Jack Kelly walked into the room. He was the only Manhattan newsie Honey was acquainted with as she had only been a newsie for a month and had mostly stayed secluded in the Brooklyn Lodging House.
"Heya Jacky-boy," Spot said weakly as he tried to sit up on his elbows. The attempt failed and he fell back onto his bed, clearly angered.
"Ah, Spot, stop pushin it. Ya gonna kill yerself!" Jack hurried over to his friend and frowned. The Brooklyn Leader did not seem to be getting better at all.
"Listen Jack, I'se gotta problem. Me boids been tellin me all sorta things about these joiks from Staten Island. Apparently, these scabs intend on seizing me turf. Of coise, I'se aint gonna let that happen, but I can't exactly strut around New Yawk tellin people not tah mess wid Brooklyn. I'se kinda needs someone tah stand in fer me."
"Well how about Dice? He's been yer right hand man ever since youse became the leadah around heah."
Spot thought about it and then shook his head. "Nah, he aint all that good a fightah. Ya see, he's like the thinker of the lot but isn't good at defendin himself."
"Alright. How about.wait! Youse could make it look like ya aint even sick. I mean, if ya make appearances everywhere, no one would be the wiser!" A wide grin spread across Jack's face.
"No shit, but unfortunately, I'se kinda bed-ridden at the moment!" Jack pointed at Honey and nodded his head with the same mischievous grin.
Honey was lost and looked from the Manhattan leader to her brother with wide eyes. "What is youse suggestin," she asked confused.
Spot's eyes narrowed. "Youse gotta be kiddin! Ya actually think I'se gonna let me sistah impersonate me!? There's quite a few ways youse can tell she's a goil!"
"Nuthin baggy shoits can't fix," Jack laughed. He could just imagine all the fun he was going to have with this scheme. Spot rested his head onto his pillow and thought about it. Though a great many cons outweighed the pros, it seemed like the only reasonable answer to his problem. To make people think he was indeed still in good health. His sister would need much training though. But Jack would take care of that. Then a devilish smirk crossed the Brooklyn Leader's face.
"Jacky, it's up tah youse to transform Honey Conlon into the one and only King of New Yawk."
Jack rolled his eyes at the bragging but was glad to hear Spot agree with the unusual idea. Honey's jaw dropped open. They wanted her to act like the leader of New York's toughest newsies for who knew how long!? "Don't worry, Honey," Jack assured her. "I'se gonna teach ya everything."
"That's what I'se afraid of."
* * * * * *
"Heya, Honey," a Brooklyn newsie called out. "Yer hair is comin from under yer hat!"
Honey groaned as she snatched Spot' hat from atop her head and held it between her knees. Then for the fourth time that morning, she tried to jumble her thick blonde hair flat enough so that the hat would fit smoothly over it. This time, it worked out well for her, but she knew she would have to fix it at least twice more throughout the day. Jack came into the Brooklyn lodging house then.
"Spotty, dear, where is youse?" Honey glared at him as she shuffled over to him with slouched shoulders.
"Right heah, Jacky-Boy," she spat.
The Manhattan leader shook his head and sighed. "What kinda walk was that? His high and mighty doesn't walk as if he's some zombie. Youse gotta throw some pride into that stride." Then Jack pulled her aside and told her to watch how he impersonated Spot. He started at one end of the room and then walked suavely, almost machine like, with a dose of nonchalance. His face was monotonous but still held the air of power. His shoulders were back and his chin not too high so that he seemed snobby but not low either so that he looked like a coward. "Youse got that?"
Honey scratched her ear irritably. "Jack, this is stupid. No one's gonna be lookin at the way I walk."
"That's where youse is wrong, Conlon. Every goil's eye is gonna be on youse, watchin yer every move. On top of that, yer enemies measure ya up by the way youse present yerself." The girl rolled her eyes and nodded. She went to the end of the room and then walked exactly as Jack had demonstrated.
"Poifect! I hope youse is a quick learner at everything. Next we sell papes." He started to make his way to the door when he realized Honey wasn't following him. "What's the matter?"
"I'se never sold papes before. Can't we just skip that part?"
Jack looked at her incredously. "Are ya crazy? Sellin papes is what makes a newsie! Don't worry, goil, I'se gonna teach ya all I know."
"That shouldn't take too long then, huh Jack?" a newsie called out. The whole room burst into laughter and Jack smiled sardonically at them all.
* * * * *
"Heya Spot!" Honey froze in her tracks but Jack casually turned to see who had called the name. It was Flame, the leader of the Bronx newsies, and Jack whispered that into Honey's ear quickly.
"Heya Flame," Honey said in her best Spot voice, but it still came out high-pitched. She bit her lip at the mistake.
Flame arched his eyebrows but didn't think anything more of it. "So Spot, youse ready fer our little slingshot contest today?"
Jack's eyes went wide. "That was today?"
The other youth nodded. "Yea, don't back out on us now, Brooklyn."
Honey just stared at him. He was rather handsome. His long black hair reached to chin length and occasionally flew into his eyes as the wind blew. His eyes were dark, and held some mysteriousness about them. He was well built too and stood a few inches taller than her. She didn't realize she was staring until Flame began waving his hand in front of her face.
"Conlon, Conlon," he was saying repeatedly. "Youse okay?"
Jack stood in. "Ah, Flame, Spot's kinda been losin it lately. He just came outta this sickness he had fer a month. Can't ya give him another day until the contest?"
Flame groaned. "Fine, but youse better not play any more games like this again, Conlon." He held Honey's gaze a moment longer until she looked down at her feet. Did he just stare down the fearless leader of Brooklyn? Man, Spot must really be outta his mind. I never saw him so vulnerable. He tried to examine Honey's face from where he stood. There was something wrong here, what was it? But someone called his name then and he had to turn away to walk over to them. When he was out of hearing distance, Honey put her face in her hands.
"God, I was a complete idiot! This is so stupid, I quit!"
"Youse aint quitting cuz Spot still needs yer help. C'mon, it wasn't that bad." He thought about what had just happened in his head. "Well, it did kinda look as if youse were checkin him out. I don't think that fits too well on Spot's reputation."
Honey let herself laugh, but inside she was wondering if she would ever have a chance with Flame if she kept impersonating her brother like this.
* * * * *
"I really aint shoah how youse supposed tah use a slingshot cuz we boys in Manhattan don't have any, but it looks simple enough." He pulled a shooter back on the rubber launcher of the slingshot he held and released. The shooter zoomed by swiftly and broke a beer bottle sitting on one of the piers of the docks.
"Lucky shot," Honey grumbled. She tried her own hand but only succeeded in sending her shooter falling onto her shoes. "I hate this! This is so stupid!"
"Ya know, from now on, I'se gonna count how many times you say that this is stupid. Listen, slingshot skills don't come overnight. How bout we try a game of poker now?" Honey reluctantly agreed and followed him back to the Brooklyn lodging house where Jack dealt a game for himself, Honey, and three other newsies. Honey picked her cards up and stared at them.
"So I'se got two kings, a three, a joker, and a nine. What now?"
The other four players rolled their eyes. "Yer not supposed tah tell the other people what youse gets," one of them said.
"Oh." And so Honey slowly learned the game of poker, even though it took two hours and lots of patience on Jack's part.
* * * * *
Spot stirred in his bed and finally opened his eyes. A shady figure was kneeling before his bed. He waited until his vision cleared and when he saw who it was, he yelled out startled. A complete duplicate of himself! He relaxed after a few seconds, realizing it was his own sister.
"Spot, I'se sorry," she said softly, still kneeling.
"It's all right. Just don't do it again, huh?" He smiled at her and turned on his side to face her. "So, youse enjoying being me?"
"No!" she exclaimed, and she went on to describe how terrible the day's events had been. She ended up shedding tears and Spot had to hold her close to make her feel better. "I'se just afraid that I'se gonna mess things up fer youse."
"Don't worry about it, hun. I shouldn't have pulled ya into this. I'll tell Jack to call the whole thing off."
Honey shook her head. "No, I'se can do it. It's just hard at times, but I know I can do it."
* * * * *
It was Friday night at Medda's and the place was jam packed with newsies from all over New York. Honey tried to smile whenever a girl would greet her and then burst into giggles but the thought that she might have to flirt with newsies of her same sex utterly appalled her. She planned to stay close to the poker tables, where the girls rarely hung out. Just then, a certain newsie caught her eye. It was Flame! He was getting a glass of water at the bar stand across from her and she rushed over to him, forgetting she was supposed to be Spot. When she reached him, she gave him a big smile and squeaked a girlish "hi".
Flame stared at her stunned. "Uh, Spot, youse still feelin sick?"
Honey's eyes went wide. "Oh, uhm, oh!" She crossed her arms nervously. "Heh, I'se feelin a bit lightheaded yeah." She put her hands on her hips then. "Well, I'se gonna play some poker. Buh-bye" She bit her lip again but flashed Flame a sweet smile before running off to the other side of the room.
"Deal me in," Honey said in her best Spot voice yet as she sat down at a poker table. She received her five cards and picked them. "Oh yay!" she exclaimed happily.
The other newsies playing looked at her as if she were on fire. "What's been up wid Spot lately?" one of the newsies whispered into another's ear.
Honey heard the comment and tried to get back into her high and mighty stature. "Heya, this one scab spilled his drink all over me on my way heah. I soaked him good. Gave the bum a nice shiner." The others laughed nervously. This isn't going too well. She rolled her eyes. She would have to engage in 'guy talk'. While the dealer was dealing another game, Honey motioned to a girl standing a few tables away from them. "Heya fellas, I don't think I'se seen a better looking goil than the one over there."
The newsies followed his gaze and then nodded with grins. When they were in the middle of a game, one of the newsies exclaimed, "Hey Spot, that goil youse were checkin out earlier is comin over heah. And from the looks of it, I think she wants tah be more than friends wid youse."
Honey tried to smirk the way Spot always did when he was getting smug, but her expression became more panicked. Before she could do anything, the girl had sat on her lap flirtatiously. "Heya Spot, me friends been talking a lot about youse. Said you were quite the charmer. I wanted tah see fer meself." She leaned in to kiss the would-be Brooklyn leader, but Honey scooted her chair back suddenly and jumped to her feet, causing the other girl to fall hard to the floor. Honey held her hat close to her head and dashed across Irving Hall, looking for Jack.
* * * * *
Slingshot Contest. The two words terrified Honey. She could barely throw a stone ten feet away from her with her own hands; imagine the damage she could do to Spot's reputation with a slingshot. She shifted her weight from one foot to the next as her wide eyes measured up Flame's ability with a slingshot. He's good, she said to herself. Really good! She gulped down hard and looked behind her to where Jack was standing. The Manhattan leader nodded at her for encouragement but it didn't help.
"Yer turn, Conlon." Flame stepped back and waved for Honey to shoot at one of the beer bottles set up on a far off pier of the Brooklyn docks. Honey nodded monotonously and cast a glance at the Brooklyn lodging house. Spot's bed was set up so that he could watch the whole contest from his room, but more so that he could take part in the contest without anyone's knowing. He would launch his shooter simultaneously with Honey's, both aimed at the same bottle, and no one would be the wiser when the bottle was successfully shattered. Honey made her movements dramatic so that her brother would see her. She pulled back the launcher of her slingshot and aimed for the first bottle set up on the right pier. As soon as she let go, she could just barely hear Spot's slingshot snap as well. Since the piers were so far, the shooter wasn't visible after a while, but the broken bottle was enough to show that the target was hit dead on.
Flame nodded. "Not bad, Conlon. Considerin youse been feelin under the weather lately." Then he stepped back up to shoot his next beer bottle and the process continued until the game had ended and both Brooklyn and the Bronx were tied.
"Good job, Flame," Honey said with a smile as she outstretched a hand to shake with the newsie. She was only met with a confused look.
"Uhm, yea. Listen, we'se havin a big poker game in the Bronx next Friday. Ya know Brooklyn is always welcome tah come. Oh, and Spot? Would ya mind sellin papes wid me tomorrow? We'se gotta talk business; seems like Staten Island is startin tah threaten the lesser boroughs."
Honey pursed her lips, much like her brother would do when he was annoyed. "Shoah." Then Flame and his newsies left and she was alone on the docks with Jack. They entered the lodging house to see how Spot was doing. Much to their surprise, he was lying still in his bed, breaking out into a cold sweat. Honey ran to her brother's side in a panic.
"Spot! Oh my god, Jack, what's wrong wid him?!"
"I don't know. Spot! Spot!" He shook the slender newsie rigorously but Spot would not wake up from his dazed state. "Honey, get a pail of cold water from the washroom." The girl ran out of the room and returned less than a minute later carrying what Jack had asked for. Jack took the pail and positioned it just above Spot's face. Then suddenly, he tipped the pail and let the icy water pour out onto the Brooklyn leader's face. Spot woke with a start gasping for air.
Honey wrapped her arms around his neck. "Spot! I thought youse were..." She paused and looked at him with solemn eyes.
"Dead?" Spot ran his fingers through his soaking wet hair and groaned. "I don't know, Jacky-boy. I feel like I'se gonna slip into a coma er sumthin any minute. Things aint goin too well. I'se always dizzy and always scorchin hot. I needs a doctor."
Jack sighed. "I can ask the boys back in Manhattan tah pitch in a few coins tah raise money fer a doctor tah see youse."
"Nah, no one can know I'se sick."
Honey fumed. "Spot! Yer gonna kill yerself eventually. Forget about yer reputation! Ya need tah see a doctor as soon as possible!"
"I don't want nobody raisin charity fer me," Spot replied simply.
Jack shook his head. "I don't care what ya say, Spot. Manhattan aint gonna tell anyone that youse is sick. As a matter of fact, I won't even tell them about the whole scheme of Honey impersonatin youse. I'se just gonna ask fer simple donations 'cause his high and mighty is comin down wid a bad cold."
"Fine," Spot muttered. "As long as nobody knows I'se in bed while me sistah is roamin around as me."
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