Chapter 5
Over the next few days Spot began to learn more and more and within a couple weeks they were having their own private conversation. He found out that she was born and raised in Maine and was a poor fisherman's daughter. Her father Glen had been drinking for as long as she could remember and would usually come home drunk and disorderly.
Marion, her mother, was ashamed of her husband but was a small and timid woman and knew better than to confront her husband. Glen would thrash about the house when he got home from work and would yell at her mother telling her that she was nothing and could do nothing.
But still Marion never fought back, until one day. Tuesday had just come back from the market and found that her father drunk as usual, was pushing her mother about the kitchen with violent, sudden movements. Tuesday tried to interfere and was met with a sharp slap in the face. Glen locked Tuesday in her room and went to take care of her mother. Tuesday knew that if she didn't get out he would come back and kill her.
Taking nothing but the clothes on her back she climbed out her window and stowed away on a train bound for New York. Not having a place to stay she slept out on park benches and streets and stole food from vegetable and fruit stands.
The day that Spot found her she had been walking towards the fruit stand when she had accidentally bumped into a large group of boys possessing chains and clubs. They teased her and said that she was on their territory and that she must pay the price. She couldn't even remember the first blow; the only thing she remembered was Spot's eyes looking at her.
Tuesday's eyes were downcast as she relayed the story. Spot felt his heart sink within his chest as he looked at her. Her body looked so fragile and so small, almost like a porcelain doll's that he had to reach out and touch her to make sure that she not just a dream. The rest of the night was spent in silence.
Over the next few days Spot began to learn more and more and within a couple weeks they were having their own private conversation. He found out that she was born and raised in Maine and was a poor fisherman's daughter. Her father Glen had been drinking for as long as she could remember and would usually come home drunk and disorderly.
Marion, her mother, was ashamed of her husband but was a small and timid woman and knew better than to confront her husband. Glen would thrash about the house when he got home from work and would yell at her mother telling her that she was nothing and could do nothing.
But still Marion never fought back, until one day. Tuesday had just come back from the market and found that her father drunk as usual, was pushing her mother about the kitchen with violent, sudden movements. Tuesday tried to interfere and was met with a sharp slap in the face. Glen locked Tuesday in her room and went to take care of her mother. Tuesday knew that if she didn't get out he would come back and kill her.
Taking nothing but the clothes on her back she climbed out her window and stowed away on a train bound for New York. Not having a place to stay she slept out on park benches and streets and stole food from vegetable and fruit stands.
The day that Spot found her she had been walking towards the fruit stand when she had accidentally bumped into a large group of boys possessing chains and clubs. They teased her and said that she was on their territory and that she must pay the price. She couldn't even remember the first blow; the only thing she remembered was Spot's eyes looking at her.
Tuesday's eyes were downcast as she relayed the story. Spot felt his heart sink within his chest as he looked at her. Her body looked so fragile and so small, almost like a porcelain doll's that he had to reach out and touch her to make sure that she not just a dream. The rest of the night was spent in silence.