Chapter 10
Tuesday lay unconscious, curled up in a defensive, fetal position in a puddle of mud. Her cheeks flushed with fever while the rest of her body shook uncontrollably. Her eyes began to twitch open when she saw several shadows hanging over her.
"Heya Shawn, what should we's do with here goyl?"
Tuesday looked up at a very small, but bulked up boy as he spoke. He and the three others were just as soaked as she was. A tall, tanned boy, around eighteen years old, who was probably the leader Tuesday thought, leaned over her examining her closely.
"Hey ain't dis da goyl that we's found and taught a lesson a few weeks back?" The other boys nodded, looking at her. "Yeah she was caught by the bulls stealin', but somehows got away. Luckily we's caught her though."
This got a couple of laughs from the others. Shawn suddenly leaned over and grabbed a handful of her mangled hair and pulled her up so that she was standing and even then he didn't let go of her hair. Tuesday struggled to loosen his grip and swung out a couple times at him, missing each time. The leader began to laugh with the other boys.
"Heya, fellas, we's got us a real spitfire here."
"I wonder if she's like that all the time." One of the boys cried out between breaths.
"She looks like a fish on a hook." Another one said.
Shawn laughed and then reached into his pocket pulling out a small knife that glistened against the moon's rays.
"Well if she's a fish I guess we will have to gut her now won't we?"
Tuesday's face paled as Shawn raised the knife up above his head, a look of insanity gleaming in his eyes. Tuesday shut her eyes and prepared for the blow when suddenly Spot tore out of the shadows and flung himself into Shawn. The knife dropped from Shawn's hands as he was shoved into the brick wall beside him. The other three boys fled in horror and took off in opposite directions down the street. Shawn wiped a thin stream of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Well, well, well, Conlon has gone soft. Da last person I thought would go soft."
Shawn stood up and walked towards Spot who was now shielding Tuesday from Shawn.
"What, Conlon you sweet on dis goyl?"
Spot's face remained emotionless.
"Stay away from her Shawn. I swears that I'se will cripple ya if you'se so much as lay a finger on her. You'se shouldn't pick on someone weaker and smaller than yourself jist ta make yourself feel stronger. Because it don't make you stronger it makes you weaker 'cause you'se gots to pick on others."
Shawn shifted uneasily as he looked at him.
"I love her jist da way she is, and I wouldn't change her for the world. She's beautiful and perfect jist da way God created her. You jist don't have da heart ta see that, do you?"
The wind had calmed by now and the rain had let up, the only sound now was the soft thundering of the distant storm. Shawn's eyes never left Spot's face. They seemed to be searching it. After a moment Shawn's head dropped in surrender and he walked slowly out of the alleyway.
Spot heaved a sigh of relief after Shawn left and he turned to look at Tuesday. Her hair was matted against her head, her clothes ripped. She looked just the way she did when Spot first found her. But now he didn't see her dirty face, or her soaked clothes. He didn't see the handicap that had plagued her entire life. The only thing he saw was her. And to him in those few minutes of nothing between them, silence was beautiful.
Tuesday lay unconscious, curled up in a defensive, fetal position in a puddle of mud. Her cheeks flushed with fever while the rest of her body shook uncontrollably. Her eyes began to twitch open when she saw several shadows hanging over her.
"Heya Shawn, what should we's do with here goyl?"
Tuesday looked up at a very small, but bulked up boy as he spoke. He and the three others were just as soaked as she was. A tall, tanned boy, around eighteen years old, who was probably the leader Tuesday thought, leaned over her examining her closely.
"Hey ain't dis da goyl that we's found and taught a lesson a few weeks back?" The other boys nodded, looking at her. "Yeah she was caught by the bulls stealin', but somehows got away. Luckily we's caught her though."
This got a couple of laughs from the others. Shawn suddenly leaned over and grabbed a handful of her mangled hair and pulled her up so that she was standing and even then he didn't let go of her hair. Tuesday struggled to loosen his grip and swung out a couple times at him, missing each time. The leader began to laugh with the other boys.
"Heya, fellas, we's got us a real spitfire here."
"I wonder if she's like that all the time." One of the boys cried out between breaths.
"She looks like a fish on a hook." Another one said.
Shawn laughed and then reached into his pocket pulling out a small knife that glistened against the moon's rays.
"Well if she's a fish I guess we will have to gut her now won't we?"
Tuesday's face paled as Shawn raised the knife up above his head, a look of insanity gleaming in his eyes. Tuesday shut her eyes and prepared for the blow when suddenly Spot tore out of the shadows and flung himself into Shawn. The knife dropped from Shawn's hands as he was shoved into the brick wall beside him. The other three boys fled in horror and took off in opposite directions down the street. Shawn wiped a thin stream of blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Well, well, well, Conlon has gone soft. Da last person I thought would go soft."
Shawn stood up and walked towards Spot who was now shielding Tuesday from Shawn.
"What, Conlon you sweet on dis goyl?"
Spot's face remained emotionless.
"Stay away from her Shawn. I swears that I'se will cripple ya if you'se so much as lay a finger on her. You'se shouldn't pick on someone weaker and smaller than yourself jist ta make yourself feel stronger. Because it don't make you stronger it makes you weaker 'cause you'se gots to pick on others."
Shawn shifted uneasily as he looked at him.
"I love her jist da way she is, and I wouldn't change her for the world. She's beautiful and perfect jist da way God created her. You jist don't have da heart ta see that, do you?"
The wind had calmed by now and the rain had let up, the only sound now was the soft thundering of the distant storm. Shawn's eyes never left Spot's face. They seemed to be searching it. After a moment Shawn's head dropped in surrender and he walked slowly out of the alleyway.
Spot heaved a sigh of relief after Shawn left and he turned to look at Tuesday. Her hair was matted against her head, her clothes ripped. She looked just the way she did when Spot first found her. But now he didn't see her dirty face, or her soaked clothes. He didn't see the handicap that had plagued her entire life. The only thing he saw was her. And to him in those few minutes of nothing between them, silence was beautiful.