Warning: This story contains adult language, graphic violence, attempted
rape, attempted suicide, and sexually explicit themes. Reader's discretion
is advised.
Rating - R.
Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of the Newsies characters. Apollonia, Giselle, Checkers, and other miscellaneous characters are all mine.
Chapter 7 - Unfinished Sympathy
Jack woke up rejuvenated and hyped; ready for a day of work at the warehouse. Today was like any other day. He passed the usual, ordinary people that were engaging in their day-to-day activities. He even caught the nuns from the charity wagon handing out bread and water to the newsies and others who were less fortunate. Within moments he approached Greeley Square, where he saw young boys without shoes sleeping out on the statue.
Jack looked up as he watched the men who worked for the World write up the dailies on the chalkboard. He was thrown into a state of shock when he saw what was written:
EXPLOSION AT MANHATTAN STEEL MILL; 80 KILLED, MORE INJURED
Hastily, Jack ran to the World's distribution office to ask the guys what they knew about the horrific news. He brushed his way through the crowd, watching countless newsies read about the event. Many were alarmed and upset by the awful occurrence, as was evident by the expressions on their faces. He gradually made his way to the distribution office window to meet a shell-shocked Mush and Kid Blink.
"Jack! Have ya read the papes! There was an explosion at the Manhattan Steel Mill. Do ya know how many guys we know dat work there!?" Jack was thunderstruck. He swiped a paper from Blink and read the story. He couldn't believe what had happened. Many former Manhattan newsies were employed there, along with a number of Brooklyn, Queens, and other former newsies from the other boroughs.
He quickly read about the extent of damage at the mill that employed many friends and acquaintances. The descriptions of the witnesses' accounts were staggering. He shook his head in disbelief as he read about the painfully horrific images that observers recounted to the press. Jack knocked his head back and closed his eyes.
"Looks like none of da newsies have ta improve anything today." He said to himself. Mush and Blink looked at him with sorrowful eyes.
~
Apollonia spent every waking hour at the hospital at Spot's side. He was unconscious half of the time, and in pain much of the time he was awake, but the doctor's administration of morphine helped with the physical agony. She could not believe it when one of his subordinates told her that Spot had been seriously injured in the explosion.
He was doing his normal activity of checking on all of the machinery in the various sections of the mill. During one of the checkups, another machine exploded in another area of the foundry. He and a band of others went to check the source of the discharge. At that moment, they witnessed fire and smoke coming at them from all directions. The screams of the men who were on fire were deafening. As the men tried to make their way to help their injured co-workers, another boom was heard. This time it was more explosive and dangerous than the previous one.
It was almost impossible to save anyone as the fire turned the place into an inferno. Spot and some of his friends went in to rescue as many men as they possibly could. As he dragged them out one by one, he found it hard to breathe. The smoke was taking its toll on his lungs each time he inhaled. The others gasped at the inhalation of dark haze that engulfed the air. Every able-bodied man that was there tried their best to free as many people as possible without becoming hurt themselves. One man, Mr. O'Reilly, was in the middle of the mill when it exploded. His charred remains were in the middle of the catastrophe. The dead bodies were many and steadily rising. As Spot continued to liberate another helpless worker, a large beam came crashing down on the two of them. Spot's body was partly crushed by the beam which killed the other instantly.
Glass, brick, wood, metal, and concrete flew in many directions, reaching other buildings and damaging nearby structures. People passing by when the destruction began screamed and evacuated the area long before the police and fire trucks even arrived. They crowded the streets that were not as crammed, but that quickly changed as more and more persons fled the calamity.
Nearly half of the steel mill had been damaged by the devastation. The nurses and doctors from a hospital a few streets over quickly made their way to the mill to have the men transferred to the hospital. The seriously injured were helped first and the moderately wounded second. Some men were pronounced dead-on-arrival while the ones who were dead once the orderlies reached the scene were immediately pulled and stretched out beside the building's ruins.
All of the newspapers jumped on the bandwagon to get the latest news on the explosion and the casualties of it. Reporters swarmed the hospital and the surrounding vicinity trying to interview anybody and everybody that was present during the chaos. Policemen were instructed to stand guard outside of the infirmary and what was left of the steel mill. A list of the deceased was printed in the papers. The news reached all over New York City. Brooklynites were just as devastated as Manhattan citizens over the tragic episode.
~
At David's apartment things were not so joyful. He sat at the dinner table quiet and sulky. The torture of listening to people howl and cry over the loss of their loved ones made him miserable. Seeing women rushing to the scene to see if their male loved ones were hurt or worse did nothing for his reserve or state of mind. Knowing that whole families were now without husbands or fathers added to his anguish. He remembered when his father got hurt at the factory where he was employed. Only his arm was injured. He felt very grateful for his father not being seriously hurt or dead. Bowing his head down in silence, he quickly lost his appetite; tears began to blur his vision. He ran a hand through his curly hair, trying to diffuse the angst rising in him. So many guys lost their lives or their livelihood as a result of the tragedy.
A knock at the door broke his concentration. He quickly composed himself and proceeded to open it.
"Heya, Dave."
"Hi, Jack. Come in." Jack casually walked into his apartment. David kept blinking, trying to not show any signs of sadness. He normally did not wear his feelings on his sleeve. Jack could tell that he had been crying. Jack always had that kind of intuition. And he figured to himself what was making David so upset. He chose not to say anything, however.
"So, what's up with you, Dave?"
"Nothing much. I just started eating dinner and stuff. Would you like something to drink?"
"Cola, Dave. Thanks." Jack stood around as David pulled out two bottles for them to drink. As David gave Jack his beverage, he took a seat on the sofa. "What a long two weeks it's been. Evah since dat explosion, the city has been in a bad mood. The papes aren't really helping matters with the stories they keep printing about what happened and what people saw."
"Yeah, I know. And knowing that there were people that we knew that worked there doesn't help ease the pain, either."
"Have ya gotten a chance to see any of da udda guys?"
"Yeah, and they said that they met with some of the guys that survived. They looked at the obituaries for the ones they knew that died so they could send their families their condolences. They said it was crazy. Some of the guys were badly burned while some will never walk again. It just made me so sad."
"I talked ta Race, Mush, Blink, and some of the uddas about it. They're all tore up behind it, too." Jack just sat their moping in his seat.
"And you'll never guess who got hurt in the accident." Jack looked at David for an answer. "Spot."
"Spot's hurt! Damn it, Dave! Why didn't someone tell me!?" Jack exclaimed. Jack rose from his seat and started pacing back and forth in the living room.
"Jesus, Jack! I didn't think that you would be that upset about it."
He did not know why this bit of information was kept from him. Even though he and Spot were not exactly in contact with each other for the past few years, Jack still regarded him as an ally of sorts. They did have a friendly history together.
"How bad is he?"
"Pretty bad. He's in stable condition. Apollonia told me and the guys that he's hanging in there. We all went to see him already. Not at once; in intervals. The doctor told us that too many people seeing him at once would be too much for him. He's staying strong."
Jack just stood there speechless. He couldn't believe that not only one of the guys that have gone down in newsie history was critically marred and lying in a hospital bed, but that no one told him. He could forget all of the negative moments of the past. They were now waves of water under the bridge.
"You saw Apollonia?"
"Yeah. She's was always there. She kept the guys informed about Spot. I went to see her in her house after visiting Spot myself."
Jack's pangs of nervous tension started to pierce his abdomen. "How is she doing?"
"She's hoping. She hopes that Spot recovers, just like the rest of us." Jack just held his head down somberly. David looked at Jack intuitively.
"Jack, you've got to go see Spot. It will bring closure to whatever it is that is making you reluctant to go see him." Jack just looked up at David with puppy-dog eyes.
"Go see him, Jack. If you are this upset behind his well-being, go see him."
~
Making his way to the hospital, Jack walked briskly to the front doors of the infirmary. He walked up to the front desk and politely interrupted the receptionist.
"Spot Conlon's room, please."
"Room 109."
Jack thanked her and proceeded to step to Spot's room. As he walked down the hallway, he felt a pang in his stomach. With every step he made to his room, the pangs of fear increased greatly. He felt fearful and edgy being at the threshold. The sounds of his heartbeat were pounding in his ears. He almost thought about turning around and leaving. He should never have come he thought to himself. He should go, but he didn't.
Sighing, Jack slowly opened the door to Spot's room. He was both scared and nervous about seeing him in his condition. As he looked on, he saw an immobilized Spot. He looked thinner and sickly. Jack could not believe what he was seeing. The very same guy, the former Brooklyn newsie that was the most respected and famous newsie in all New York, was lying helplessly in a hospital bed. Jack felt guilty for not coming sooner to see him. He whimpered a little when he heard Spot's voice.
"Jack?" He looked up shocked and startled at the sound of his name. For the first time in almost five years, Jack came face to face with Spot. Hazel eyes met light blue eyes. Manhattan met Brooklyn.
"Spot." Jack said, trying not to cry. Spot lightly smiled at him.
"Don't be shy, Jacky-boy. It ain't your style."
Jack couldn't help but laugh at Spot's smart aleck remark. Even in grim circumstances, Spot still kept his reign of authority. Jack could see that through his tough exterior, Spot was kind at heart. Spot gestured with his hand for him to sit beside him. Jack softly sat down next to him, scared to touch him, as if he would break like china. Spot stared at Jack for a few minutes before speaking.
"You're still the same good-lookin' son-of-a-bitch dat you were five years ago." Spot joked.
"Well, I learned from da best." Jack teased. Spot laughed as much as he could without writhing in pain. He wasn't having much luck. "So, how are you coming along? Is the pain really bad?"
"The doctor told me much of the damage is on the inside. There's not much they can do. It's just a matter of time." Jack's face fell.
"I have been crushed, broken into, and put back together. I'm like a jigsaw puzzle."
Jack remained as calm as he could. They recounted the old days together. Everything that was in the past came to mind. From the first time they met and their first day as newsies, to the first newspapers they sold to the first girls they bedded were all discussed in detail. During the meaningful conversation, Jack smiled off and on at the memories the recounted. Eventually, Jack became quiet as he focused his vision on Spot's wedding ring. He didn't realize that Spot was watching his eyes the entire time, following them to see what Jack's eyes was centered on.
"Listen, Spot. You and me have known each udda for so long and there's something dat I have been meaning to tell ya for the longest..."
"Jack, I have already forgiven you."
Jack looked up shell-shocked. He didn't expect those words to come out of Spot's mouth.
"Listen, Jack. I know you are a good guy. Even though we had our differences, we both have something in common. We both know we care a great deal about Apollonia. You must've loved her. The way you fought for her was not unlike mine. You've gotta lot of fire in you, Jack." Jack remained silent.
"I know you loved her, Jacky-boy. I've always known. I ain't mad at'cha. She's a rare diamond. I would kill for her."
"You almost did." Jack said smiling, remembering the infamous fight they had at Irving Hall when the opera came to New York.
"You know dat you are one of my best friends. You're one of the only guys in the newsie arena dat I have truly respected. You gotta lot of heart, too." Jack made his way to the bed and softly sat down next to his friend.
"Take care of her, Jack. I know she'll mean as much to you as she does to me. Even if she refuses you, look after her. She's my life."
Tears swelled up in Jack's eyes as his friend emitted those words. He could not believe what Spot was saying. He thought to himself that he had taken a risk in coming there, but as an obligation to David, Jack complied with his wishes. He never thought in his wildest dreams that Spot would say such a thing. That he would give his approval for a possible relationship, if one were to occur, was all too good to be true.
"Spot, are you sure you know what you are saying?" He was wondering if Spot was becoming delusional.
"I sure do, Jacky-boy. I would love to grow old with her. But since I won't be around much longer, I need to see dat she is not by herself. I don't want her thinking dat she has to be a widow all of her life. There are many guys dat would love to be in my shoes. Being married to her, dat is. I would rest in peace knowing dat she is with someone who won't mistreat her. Someone dat won't beat her or fuck around on her. Someone dat can truly care for her. Dat someone is you, Jack."
"But what if she doesn't want me?"
"Then you'll hafta look elsewhere, but I, at least, want her to be protected. Can you do dat for me, Cowboy?"
"Definitely, Spot." Jack said.
As soon as Jack was about to ball over, the doctor came in to check up on Spot. Jack quickly composed himself and straightened up. "Well, uh, I have ta be leaving now. I hope that we can talk again sometime, okay?"
Spot nodded his head in affirmation. "Well, uh, I'll see ya later."
"See ya, Jacky-boy."
"God Bless you, Spot."
Jack looked into Spot's mysterious eyes one last time before exiting. Once he walked out of the hospital, Jack couldn't help but let it out. Salty tears covered his handsome face as they cascaded down like Niagara Falls flowing from hazel origins. Jack stood there unabashed as he openly grieved his dying friend in the middle of New York.
Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of the Newsies characters. Apollonia, Giselle, Checkers, and other miscellaneous characters are all mine.
Chapter 7 - Unfinished Sympathy
Jack woke up rejuvenated and hyped; ready for a day of work at the warehouse. Today was like any other day. He passed the usual, ordinary people that were engaging in their day-to-day activities. He even caught the nuns from the charity wagon handing out bread and water to the newsies and others who were less fortunate. Within moments he approached Greeley Square, where he saw young boys without shoes sleeping out on the statue.
Jack looked up as he watched the men who worked for the World write up the dailies on the chalkboard. He was thrown into a state of shock when he saw what was written:
EXPLOSION AT MANHATTAN STEEL MILL; 80 KILLED, MORE INJURED
Hastily, Jack ran to the World's distribution office to ask the guys what they knew about the horrific news. He brushed his way through the crowd, watching countless newsies read about the event. Many were alarmed and upset by the awful occurrence, as was evident by the expressions on their faces. He gradually made his way to the distribution office window to meet a shell-shocked Mush and Kid Blink.
"Jack! Have ya read the papes! There was an explosion at the Manhattan Steel Mill. Do ya know how many guys we know dat work there!?" Jack was thunderstruck. He swiped a paper from Blink and read the story. He couldn't believe what had happened. Many former Manhattan newsies were employed there, along with a number of Brooklyn, Queens, and other former newsies from the other boroughs.
He quickly read about the extent of damage at the mill that employed many friends and acquaintances. The descriptions of the witnesses' accounts were staggering. He shook his head in disbelief as he read about the painfully horrific images that observers recounted to the press. Jack knocked his head back and closed his eyes.
"Looks like none of da newsies have ta improve anything today." He said to himself. Mush and Blink looked at him with sorrowful eyes.
~
Apollonia spent every waking hour at the hospital at Spot's side. He was unconscious half of the time, and in pain much of the time he was awake, but the doctor's administration of morphine helped with the physical agony. She could not believe it when one of his subordinates told her that Spot had been seriously injured in the explosion.
He was doing his normal activity of checking on all of the machinery in the various sections of the mill. During one of the checkups, another machine exploded in another area of the foundry. He and a band of others went to check the source of the discharge. At that moment, they witnessed fire and smoke coming at them from all directions. The screams of the men who were on fire were deafening. As the men tried to make their way to help their injured co-workers, another boom was heard. This time it was more explosive and dangerous than the previous one.
It was almost impossible to save anyone as the fire turned the place into an inferno. Spot and some of his friends went in to rescue as many men as they possibly could. As he dragged them out one by one, he found it hard to breathe. The smoke was taking its toll on his lungs each time he inhaled. The others gasped at the inhalation of dark haze that engulfed the air. Every able-bodied man that was there tried their best to free as many people as possible without becoming hurt themselves. One man, Mr. O'Reilly, was in the middle of the mill when it exploded. His charred remains were in the middle of the catastrophe. The dead bodies were many and steadily rising. As Spot continued to liberate another helpless worker, a large beam came crashing down on the two of them. Spot's body was partly crushed by the beam which killed the other instantly.
Glass, brick, wood, metal, and concrete flew in many directions, reaching other buildings and damaging nearby structures. People passing by when the destruction began screamed and evacuated the area long before the police and fire trucks even arrived. They crowded the streets that were not as crammed, but that quickly changed as more and more persons fled the calamity.
Nearly half of the steel mill had been damaged by the devastation. The nurses and doctors from a hospital a few streets over quickly made their way to the mill to have the men transferred to the hospital. The seriously injured were helped first and the moderately wounded second. Some men were pronounced dead-on-arrival while the ones who were dead once the orderlies reached the scene were immediately pulled and stretched out beside the building's ruins.
All of the newspapers jumped on the bandwagon to get the latest news on the explosion and the casualties of it. Reporters swarmed the hospital and the surrounding vicinity trying to interview anybody and everybody that was present during the chaos. Policemen were instructed to stand guard outside of the infirmary and what was left of the steel mill. A list of the deceased was printed in the papers. The news reached all over New York City. Brooklynites were just as devastated as Manhattan citizens over the tragic episode.
~
At David's apartment things were not so joyful. He sat at the dinner table quiet and sulky. The torture of listening to people howl and cry over the loss of their loved ones made him miserable. Seeing women rushing to the scene to see if their male loved ones were hurt or worse did nothing for his reserve or state of mind. Knowing that whole families were now without husbands or fathers added to his anguish. He remembered when his father got hurt at the factory where he was employed. Only his arm was injured. He felt very grateful for his father not being seriously hurt or dead. Bowing his head down in silence, he quickly lost his appetite; tears began to blur his vision. He ran a hand through his curly hair, trying to diffuse the angst rising in him. So many guys lost their lives or their livelihood as a result of the tragedy.
A knock at the door broke his concentration. He quickly composed himself and proceeded to open it.
"Heya, Dave."
"Hi, Jack. Come in." Jack casually walked into his apartment. David kept blinking, trying to not show any signs of sadness. He normally did not wear his feelings on his sleeve. Jack could tell that he had been crying. Jack always had that kind of intuition. And he figured to himself what was making David so upset. He chose not to say anything, however.
"So, what's up with you, Dave?"
"Nothing much. I just started eating dinner and stuff. Would you like something to drink?"
"Cola, Dave. Thanks." Jack stood around as David pulled out two bottles for them to drink. As David gave Jack his beverage, he took a seat on the sofa. "What a long two weeks it's been. Evah since dat explosion, the city has been in a bad mood. The papes aren't really helping matters with the stories they keep printing about what happened and what people saw."
"Yeah, I know. And knowing that there were people that we knew that worked there doesn't help ease the pain, either."
"Have ya gotten a chance to see any of da udda guys?"
"Yeah, and they said that they met with some of the guys that survived. They looked at the obituaries for the ones they knew that died so they could send their families their condolences. They said it was crazy. Some of the guys were badly burned while some will never walk again. It just made me so sad."
"I talked ta Race, Mush, Blink, and some of the uddas about it. They're all tore up behind it, too." Jack just sat their moping in his seat.
"And you'll never guess who got hurt in the accident." Jack looked at David for an answer. "Spot."
"Spot's hurt! Damn it, Dave! Why didn't someone tell me!?" Jack exclaimed. Jack rose from his seat and started pacing back and forth in the living room.
"Jesus, Jack! I didn't think that you would be that upset about it."
He did not know why this bit of information was kept from him. Even though he and Spot were not exactly in contact with each other for the past few years, Jack still regarded him as an ally of sorts. They did have a friendly history together.
"How bad is he?"
"Pretty bad. He's in stable condition. Apollonia told me and the guys that he's hanging in there. We all went to see him already. Not at once; in intervals. The doctor told us that too many people seeing him at once would be too much for him. He's staying strong."
Jack just stood there speechless. He couldn't believe that not only one of the guys that have gone down in newsie history was critically marred and lying in a hospital bed, but that no one told him. He could forget all of the negative moments of the past. They were now waves of water under the bridge.
"You saw Apollonia?"
"Yeah. She's was always there. She kept the guys informed about Spot. I went to see her in her house after visiting Spot myself."
Jack's pangs of nervous tension started to pierce his abdomen. "How is she doing?"
"She's hoping. She hopes that Spot recovers, just like the rest of us." Jack just held his head down somberly. David looked at Jack intuitively.
"Jack, you've got to go see Spot. It will bring closure to whatever it is that is making you reluctant to go see him." Jack just looked up at David with puppy-dog eyes.
"Go see him, Jack. If you are this upset behind his well-being, go see him."
~
Making his way to the hospital, Jack walked briskly to the front doors of the infirmary. He walked up to the front desk and politely interrupted the receptionist.
"Spot Conlon's room, please."
"Room 109."
Jack thanked her and proceeded to step to Spot's room. As he walked down the hallway, he felt a pang in his stomach. With every step he made to his room, the pangs of fear increased greatly. He felt fearful and edgy being at the threshold. The sounds of his heartbeat were pounding in his ears. He almost thought about turning around and leaving. He should never have come he thought to himself. He should go, but he didn't.
Sighing, Jack slowly opened the door to Spot's room. He was both scared and nervous about seeing him in his condition. As he looked on, he saw an immobilized Spot. He looked thinner and sickly. Jack could not believe what he was seeing. The very same guy, the former Brooklyn newsie that was the most respected and famous newsie in all New York, was lying helplessly in a hospital bed. Jack felt guilty for not coming sooner to see him. He whimpered a little when he heard Spot's voice.
"Jack?" He looked up shocked and startled at the sound of his name. For the first time in almost five years, Jack came face to face with Spot. Hazel eyes met light blue eyes. Manhattan met Brooklyn.
"Spot." Jack said, trying not to cry. Spot lightly smiled at him.
"Don't be shy, Jacky-boy. It ain't your style."
Jack couldn't help but laugh at Spot's smart aleck remark. Even in grim circumstances, Spot still kept his reign of authority. Jack could see that through his tough exterior, Spot was kind at heart. Spot gestured with his hand for him to sit beside him. Jack softly sat down next to him, scared to touch him, as if he would break like china. Spot stared at Jack for a few minutes before speaking.
"You're still the same good-lookin' son-of-a-bitch dat you were five years ago." Spot joked.
"Well, I learned from da best." Jack teased. Spot laughed as much as he could without writhing in pain. He wasn't having much luck. "So, how are you coming along? Is the pain really bad?"
"The doctor told me much of the damage is on the inside. There's not much they can do. It's just a matter of time." Jack's face fell.
"I have been crushed, broken into, and put back together. I'm like a jigsaw puzzle."
Jack remained as calm as he could. They recounted the old days together. Everything that was in the past came to mind. From the first time they met and their first day as newsies, to the first newspapers they sold to the first girls they bedded were all discussed in detail. During the meaningful conversation, Jack smiled off and on at the memories the recounted. Eventually, Jack became quiet as he focused his vision on Spot's wedding ring. He didn't realize that Spot was watching his eyes the entire time, following them to see what Jack's eyes was centered on.
"Listen, Spot. You and me have known each udda for so long and there's something dat I have been meaning to tell ya for the longest..."
"Jack, I have already forgiven you."
Jack looked up shell-shocked. He didn't expect those words to come out of Spot's mouth.
"Listen, Jack. I know you are a good guy. Even though we had our differences, we both have something in common. We both know we care a great deal about Apollonia. You must've loved her. The way you fought for her was not unlike mine. You've gotta lot of fire in you, Jack." Jack remained silent.
"I know you loved her, Jacky-boy. I've always known. I ain't mad at'cha. She's a rare diamond. I would kill for her."
"You almost did." Jack said smiling, remembering the infamous fight they had at Irving Hall when the opera came to New York.
"You know dat you are one of my best friends. You're one of the only guys in the newsie arena dat I have truly respected. You gotta lot of heart, too." Jack made his way to the bed and softly sat down next to his friend.
"Take care of her, Jack. I know she'll mean as much to you as she does to me. Even if she refuses you, look after her. She's my life."
Tears swelled up in Jack's eyes as his friend emitted those words. He could not believe what Spot was saying. He thought to himself that he had taken a risk in coming there, but as an obligation to David, Jack complied with his wishes. He never thought in his wildest dreams that Spot would say such a thing. That he would give his approval for a possible relationship, if one were to occur, was all too good to be true.
"Spot, are you sure you know what you are saying?" He was wondering if Spot was becoming delusional.
"I sure do, Jacky-boy. I would love to grow old with her. But since I won't be around much longer, I need to see dat she is not by herself. I don't want her thinking dat she has to be a widow all of her life. There are many guys dat would love to be in my shoes. Being married to her, dat is. I would rest in peace knowing dat she is with someone who won't mistreat her. Someone dat won't beat her or fuck around on her. Someone dat can truly care for her. Dat someone is you, Jack."
"But what if she doesn't want me?"
"Then you'll hafta look elsewhere, but I, at least, want her to be protected. Can you do dat for me, Cowboy?"
"Definitely, Spot." Jack said.
As soon as Jack was about to ball over, the doctor came in to check up on Spot. Jack quickly composed himself and straightened up. "Well, uh, I have ta be leaving now. I hope that we can talk again sometime, okay?"
Spot nodded his head in affirmation. "Well, uh, I'll see ya later."
"See ya, Jacky-boy."
"God Bless you, Spot."
Jack looked into Spot's mysterious eyes one last time before exiting. Once he walked out of the hospital, Jack couldn't help but let it out. Salty tears covered his handsome face as they cascaded down like Niagara Falls flowing from hazel origins. Jack stood there unabashed as he openly grieved his dying friend in the middle of New York.
