A Change in Brooklyn Chapter 13: Clarity of Heart and Mind, a newsies fanfic

Chapter Thirteen: Clarity of Heart and Mind

"I's such an idiot!" Spot growled as he crossed the Brooklyn Bridge. "Gone only t'ree days an' I could weah a hole in da floor wid worry." He went right into the Lodging House, waving to Kloppman as he passed him, and found Race combing his hair among the other newsboys, who were waking up and getting ready to sell papers for the day. "Race! Wheh is she?"

The dark-haired newsie snapped his head around to meet the Brooklyn leader's gaze. "What, she ain't back yet?!" At Spot's negative reply, Race immediately headed out onto the streets with Spot on his heels. "She was heah da night ya two… ya know. She left aftuh dat."

"Wheh could she be?" Spot moaned.

Race paused. "No! Wheh would she go?"

Spot started naming off possibilities. "Library, racetracks, baseball stadium, scenic view… she's got a lotta loves."

"I can check the tracks latuh, but let's shoot fa da library an' Central Pawk." Race hurriedly backed away. "Meet ya in da Pawk in one hour!"

Spot nodded and took off, hoping in the deepest depths of his heart that she was all right. Scouring the Park fruitlessly, he was about to give up when he heard a dog yap and a girl's voice telling it that she wasn't going to play right then. There Brigid was, sitting on a slightly hidden bench with a piece of paper and a pencil and drawing the tree Spot was standing under. He didn't know whether to get her attention or just watch her, but as soon as she looked up to view the tree, an uncomfortable tension was melded between them.

After what seemed like an eternity, Spot spoke in a cracking voice. "Uh… hi."

"Hey," Brigid quietly said.

Mudpie was at Spot's feet in a second and he bent down to pet her. "Shoiuh missed dis psycho dog da past couple of days." He looked up at Brigid. "We missed its ownuh even mo'."

"Am I surprised? Yes," Brigid joked lightly.

Spot chuckled, stood up straight, and put his hands in his pockets. "Ya been heah da whole time?"

"No, I's been wanderin'. I jus' felt like drawin' dis beautiful, peaceful tree dis moinin'," she replied with a straight face.

Spot smiled at her artistic intuition but then became serious. Nervously clearing his throat, he began, "Brigid… I's so sorry."

The girl looked straight into his eyes. "Me, too."

"I was terrible ta ya as well as da udda goils. I's been a lousy leaduh, a pathetic friend, an' frankly… really rude an' unsupportive."

"An' like ya said, I was too pawticuluh an' borin' an' good. But ya wasn't a lousy leaduh! A bit ovuhbearin', yes, but not lousy."

"Well, ya ain't borin' in any way, shape, or form. I jus' had at blow sumt'in out of me mouth! Ya anyt'in' but borin'. Da way ya draw… da way ya can joke around… da way ya don't put up wid crap. An' as fa being good… I want ya ta be good. Ya correct me badness wid it, like sweahing an' dis damn pride… oops! Dis pitiful pride." He smiled. "I know I's done a lot, so I's jus' gunna covuh it all by sayin' I's sorry fa ev'ryt'in' I evuh did ta ya. I was wrong, an' ya did nuttin' ta desoive it. Will ya fuhgive me?"

"If you'll fuhgive me," Brigid giggled.

Spot spit into his hand and held it out. "Done!"

Brigid spit into her own hand shook his with a relieved grin. Just then Racetrack appeared, arms spread wide and yelling, "Sketch!!! Brig, ya okay!" He hugged her to death and then commanded, "Don't ya DARE do dat ta us all agin!"

"I don't plan on it," she answered confidently, sharing an honest smile with Spot.