A/N: Cookies go to.. Kelly! *hand Kelly a cookie* We're very glad you like
our story, Twinny! *grins* Next cookie to Spatz, who is a WONDERFUL
reviewer (and writer too!), *hands Spatz a cookie*, Then to Snooza, thanks
for reviewing, we're uber glad you're diggin' our story *grins and hands
you a cookie*, And FunkieChick, thanks, I (being Fishface) have a hard time
characterizing Spot myself, but Shortstack does well with it *hands a
cookie to you*, Lady Elwen, just wanted to say that I love your name
*grins* And thanks for the positive review! *hands you a cookie*, and last
but not least, to Deanie *hands Deanie a cookie* I'm glad you enjoyed the
whacking cane bit, and we'll be sure to keep updating.. as we're addicted
to writing this story. *grins*
*Shortstack waves to everyone*
* * * *
I didn't awake the next morning with the rising sun or with the jabbing of Spot Conlon's cane. In fact, I do believe that I only awoke because some clod came into the upstairs room during the middle of the day and tripped over the bucket. I groaned as I turned over. Whatever Spot Conlon was feeding me, I decided, was making me quite ill. For a moment I mused with the thought that he was trying to poison me, but it came back to the reality that he had eaten some of that mush himself, and I was probably just allergic. Either way, I wasn't feeling up to moving... at all. For a few brief seconds, the sun stung my eyes and the air clotted up in my lungs, I rolled over and buried my face in the mattress, trying to gather up the energy to go downstairs and clean, but alas, I fell back to sleep.
When I awoke, the light outside was dimming. I started to roll over but I realized that somebody else's soft hand was on my face. They were breathing steadily, as if they were asleep themselves. I opened my eyes. I almost jumped I was so surprised at who it was. Spot Conlon had fallen asleep, stretched out by my bed with his hand softly placed on the side of my face. All the contempt I had for him disappeared whilst he was sleeping. A peaceful look had come across his face, and he almost looked human with his eyes closed. I put my tiny hand on top of his, then closed my eyes, for some reason, not wanting to fall back to sleep.
My hand must have disturbed his sleep, because I felt him moving slightly on the floor. I opened my eyes, just in time to see his begin to flutter open. His hand moved under mine as he awoke, and I felt a twinge of unexplained regret. His eyes opened, and immediately met mine. For some reason I didn't tear mine away. I just stared into those deep pools of green, happy that for once they weren't laughing at me. He didn't look away either, and I wondered what he was thinking. Suddenly it occurred to me what he must have thought I was thinking, and I jumped up, throwing his own hand at him.
"What are you doin' up here?" Sitting up on my mattress, I tried to shout at him angrily, but only half-managed.
He only rubbed his eyes, sitting up like me. "Well, I WAS sleeping."
"What the hell was your hand doing on my face?" I did much better at faking anger that time, and I was really curious as to why he had been laying on the floor next to me.
He didn't flinch at all, and his face was still calm even after waking up. "What the hell was your hand doing on my hand on your face?" His sarcasm deeply annoyed me, I demanded to know what he had been thinking coming up here and just stretching out next to me.
I decided to challenge him back. "Well..." I gulped, "why did you look at me like that?"
Those fierce eyes stared right into mine, making my cheeks feel warm. "Why did you look back?"
I tried to reconcile myself with a cool glare, but turned bright red in the middle, "What time is it?" I managed to salvage, trying to break the awkward silence that had settled over the almost empty room.
"Near eight," he said sleepily, "And you didn't get any work done today." He said curtly. I would have near slapped him if I hadn't been bedridden. He was so arrogant that I wanted to take him by the neck and strangle him right on the spot. I silently prayed for forgiveness for those thoughts.. again. If I kept around Spot Conlon too often, I'd be praying all the time.
There was a light knock at the door, Spot looked up as it opened, and I laid down and rolled over when I realized who it was.
Fishface. I hadn't wanted to see her, but she had a large tub in tow and there seemed to be some clothes inside it. I looked over at her, letting out a little groan and then rolling back over.
I heard her voice quietly say, "Spot, could you give us some privacy? I mean, lock the door and all, I don't want none of your boys coming up here while I'm doing this for her." I wondered what Fishface was talking about but I didn't move or even make an attempt to ask.
I heard Spot get up and start to walk out the door, the step, step, clunk of his feet and his cane bothered me, it wasn't as if he couldn't walk without it. I felt something cold on my arms. It took me a moment to realize that it was just Fishface, gently rolling me over.
"Come on you, Mush made me come all the way down here to give you a bath, and I know you've got it in you to move a little bit, I heard you snapping at Conlon a moment ago," The sound of her voice made me want to be sick, I wasn't quite sure why though.
I really didn't want her around if I was going to take a much needed bath, and tried my best to convince her to leave. "You don't have to do that, I can do it by myself." She continued to try and pull me off of the mattress, and I slapped her hand gently like a spoiled child. Fishface just kept trying to drag me. If I'd had the energy, I'd have pushed her away and sent her flying across the floor. "NO!" I was almost screaming at her, attempting to roll back over. In my tired and sickly state, she had almost twice as much strength as I did and got me to sit up. I just kept slapping at her arms, as if beating off weeds or vines all around the convent garden.
"Now, now, why are you actin' like this?" This girl had a lot of patience, and I had none.
Sighing, I gave in. "I don't know, honestly." I slouched over tiredly, as she began to pull my shirt up.
A few minutes later, I was submerged in the tub, now filled with water instead of clothing. I hated having Fishface in the room, but I was deeply grateful to finally get a bath. Maybe I'd have been in a better mood if the water wasn't ice cold. I closed my eyes and just sat there soaking for a moment. The iciness of the water brought those green eyes into my mind, since they seemed so much alike. I remembered when he had lay there staring at me, his eyes didn't seem cold then. I couldn't put my finger on what they had been, but it certainly wasn't cold.
"All right, let's wash your hair," Fishface's voice brought me back, and I relented to let her soak and shampoo my hair clean. At least she wasn't talking, and my mind was free to wander. But I kept wandering right back to that stare Spot had given me after he had awakened, and it made my cheeks feel strangely warm again. "You're startin' to feel warmer, maybe you've got a fever." Sure Fishface, I had a fever. I was content to let the girl think whatever she wanted, as long as she wasn't going to ask me any questions. We can't always get what we want, though. "So... has Spot got you cleaning the place for the party?"
Great, now I had to have a conversation with her. "What party?"
"You know, the party tomorrow night! For me birthday?"
"A birthday party? Here? For you?" Oh, wonderful. Now she had ME asking the questions.
"Yeah, Spot was nice enough to offer to throw me a party tomorrow, right here at his place. Ain't that nice?"
"That is nice." Is THAT why he was making me clean his stupid clubhouse? So he could give this girl a birthday party? How typical of him.
She was almost done with my hair. "Are ya gonna be there?"
"I don't know... I may still be sick tomorrow night..." there had to be a way to get myself out of this.
"Aw, I'd love if you were there. We could talk some more, get to know each other better, huh?"
I sighed, "I guess I can try."
"Wonderful!" Her cheerfulness was aggravating me at the moment, I still didn't know why though.
"So... how old will you be?" I might as well at least have pretended to be interested.
"Sixteen, can ya believe it?"
I looked disbelievingly at her. "You're only gonna be sixteen?" She gave a smiling nod and finished with my hair. I couldn't believe she was younger than me, even if only by a few days. She seemed so much older, just the way she carried herself and with what seemed to be natural maturity. I had thought she was at least seventeen, like the Cowboy.
The next day I was feeling considerably better. Fishface had brought me more suitable clothing, a calico skirt and a dark red blouse that buttoned up all the way to the top, and I had to admit, I liked the way she had braided my hair, although her excessive cheer was quite annoying in itself, I couldn't help but like her... just a little bit.
I had almost finished cleaning the downstairs for Fishface's birthday party to be held later that night when the one and only Spot Conlon came waltzing in, mud on his shoes and rapping that cane against the ground as he crossed the barrier, not even having the common decency to wipe his feet.
I gave a silent groan then turned from wiping off the top of one of the corner crates from cobwebs and looked back at the floor he had crossed, mud tracked all the way across it. I picked up the bucket, which I had luckily not yet emptied, and the scrub brush and silently started scrubbing the floor again. I swear, he must have thought I had gone completely off my trolley.
The next words that escaped him were, "What are you doing?" He looked, almost bewildered. I was almost glad that I had started cleaning the floor he had dirtied up.
"I'm cleaning up the mess on the floor Spot, what are you doing?" I said curtly, pushing the brush across the floor briskly, finishing cleaning the mud and going back to the crate I'd been dusting a moment before.
Spot was silent for a moment, I turned around and stared at him, he was gazing at me, I couldn't read the look in his eyes anymore. I could only hope to God that he wasn't thinking I was garbage. Why? I'm not entirely sure.
I stared at him briefly, "What?" I demanded, "I'm just cleaning up the stupid mess you and your lot left around here!"
"Nothing.." Spot trailed off and picked up a cigarette. He turned and looked at me one last time, as if he were confused, I gave him a 'What the hell are you staring at?' look and he turned and walked out of the clubhouse, once again, leaving bits of mud across the floor.
When I emerged from the upstairs portion of the clubhouse, I felt completely refreshed. I had dumped my cleaning water from scrubbing the floor out the window (but I did not get the pleasure of mauling Spot Conlon with the bucket this time) and filled it with clean water, which I used to wash my face. I used the window as a mirror as I braided my hair back into two French braids down the side of my head. I checked the mirror in the stairwell before I went down into what I could already hear was quite a party, from the loud Irish music to the stomping of some dancing feet, I had to admit, This was the best I had looked the entire time I had been staying in Brooklyn, and I was going to make sure that I rubbed it right into Spot Conlon's nose.
When I finally made my way down into the room, I was taken in by a big bear hug. It took me a moment to realize that it was only Patrick. Of course he was coming to Fishface's party. They WERE good friends after all. I smiled, "Hi Patrick," I said softly, still feeling a little bit weak from being ill, but I didn't let him know that.
"Listen, I brought somethin' for ya," he said, smiling and reaching into his pocket. I watched curiously as he pulled out a folded handkerchief and handed it to me. It felt heavy, indicating that something was folded inside. Looking up at him and raising an eyebrow playfully, I carefully unwrapped it. Upon unfolding it, I found a beautiful turquoise necklace with intricately decorated beads, tied together by a satin blue ribbon. I looked back up at him, shocked that he was giving me something like this. How did he ever get this? How in the world did he pay for it? As I stood there with my mouth open in wonder, he just grinned and said softly, "Happy Birthday, Shortstack."
I felt like crying, he'd gotten a beautiful gift for me, and I hadn't been able to get him anything for our birthday. I smiled at him and said guiltily, "I didn't get you anything..."
"It's okay," he put his arm on my shoulder. "I've got my baby sister back." I smiled again, if he only knew how unhappy I was in Brooklyn. But I didn't have the heart to tell him that what he was trying to do for me made me miserable.
After a few minutes of talking with my brother, we were interrupted as a quick dance started, and someone softly touched my arm, I looked up at Kerry as he extended his arm to me, asking, "May I have this dance?" as politely as he could. I smiled and nodded, leaving Patrick by his self and joining Kerry on the dance floor.
To be completely honest, I had never danced this way before, So I let Kerry totally take the lead. I was a bit uncomfortable at first, because at all the church dances I'd ever been to (there had been quite a few too), not even the most risqué of the couples had danced as close as Kerry and I were dancing. After the first few dances I shared with him however, I started to get used to it. In fact I rather enjoyed this risqué sort of dancing.
Around the fifth dance, my eye suddenly caught something. Spot Conlon was standing in the back corner, all alone. We turned with the music, and I caught his eye. He seemed to be watching someone, I followed the direction of his eyes. Fishface. She was dancing with Jack, like she had been the entire night. Spot took another swig of his drink and turned around, once again, I lost his eyes in the crowd.
*Shortstack waves to everyone*
* * * *
I didn't awake the next morning with the rising sun or with the jabbing of Spot Conlon's cane. In fact, I do believe that I only awoke because some clod came into the upstairs room during the middle of the day and tripped over the bucket. I groaned as I turned over. Whatever Spot Conlon was feeding me, I decided, was making me quite ill. For a moment I mused with the thought that he was trying to poison me, but it came back to the reality that he had eaten some of that mush himself, and I was probably just allergic. Either way, I wasn't feeling up to moving... at all. For a few brief seconds, the sun stung my eyes and the air clotted up in my lungs, I rolled over and buried my face in the mattress, trying to gather up the energy to go downstairs and clean, but alas, I fell back to sleep.
When I awoke, the light outside was dimming. I started to roll over but I realized that somebody else's soft hand was on my face. They were breathing steadily, as if they were asleep themselves. I opened my eyes. I almost jumped I was so surprised at who it was. Spot Conlon had fallen asleep, stretched out by my bed with his hand softly placed on the side of my face. All the contempt I had for him disappeared whilst he was sleeping. A peaceful look had come across his face, and he almost looked human with his eyes closed. I put my tiny hand on top of his, then closed my eyes, for some reason, not wanting to fall back to sleep.
My hand must have disturbed his sleep, because I felt him moving slightly on the floor. I opened my eyes, just in time to see his begin to flutter open. His hand moved under mine as he awoke, and I felt a twinge of unexplained regret. His eyes opened, and immediately met mine. For some reason I didn't tear mine away. I just stared into those deep pools of green, happy that for once they weren't laughing at me. He didn't look away either, and I wondered what he was thinking. Suddenly it occurred to me what he must have thought I was thinking, and I jumped up, throwing his own hand at him.
"What are you doin' up here?" Sitting up on my mattress, I tried to shout at him angrily, but only half-managed.
He only rubbed his eyes, sitting up like me. "Well, I WAS sleeping."
"What the hell was your hand doing on my face?" I did much better at faking anger that time, and I was really curious as to why he had been laying on the floor next to me.
He didn't flinch at all, and his face was still calm even after waking up. "What the hell was your hand doing on my hand on your face?" His sarcasm deeply annoyed me, I demanded to know what he had been thinking coming up here and just stretching out next to me.
I decided to challenge him back. "Well..." I gulped, "why did you look at me like that?"
Those fierce eyes stared right into mine, making my cheeks feel warm. "Why did you look back?"
I tried to reconcile myself with a cool glare, but turned bright red in the middle, "What time is it?" I managed to salvage, trying to break the awkward silence that had settled over the almost empty room.
"Near eight," he said sleepily, "And you didn't get any work done today." He said curtly. I would have near slapped him if I hadn't been bedridden. He was so arrogant that I wanted to take him by the neck and strangle him right on the spot. I silently prayed for forgiveness for those thoughts.. again. If I kept around Spot Conlon too often, I'd be praying all the time.
There was a light knock at the door, Spot looked up as it opened, and I laid down and rolled over when I realized who it was.
Fishface. I hadn't wanted to see her, but she had a large tub in tow and there seemed to be some clothes inside it. I looked over at her, letting out a little groan and then rolling back over.
I heard her voice quietly say, "Spot, could you give us some privacy? I mean, lock the door and all, I don't want none of your boys coming up here while I'm doing this for her." I wondered what Fishface was talking about but I didn't move or even make an attempt to ask.
I heard Spot get up and start to walk out the door, the step, step, clunk of his feet and his cane bothered me, it wasn't as if he couldn't walk without it. I felt something cold on my arms. It took me a moment to realize that it was just Fishface, gently rolling me over.
"Come on you, Mush made me come all the way down here to give you a bath, and I know you've got it in you to move a little bit, I heard you snapping at Conlon a moment ago," The sound of her voice made me want to be sick, I wasn't quite sure why though.
I really didn't want her around if I was going to take a much needed bath, and tried my best to convince her to leave. "You don't have to do that, I can do it by myself." She continued to try and pull me off of the mattress, and I slapped her hand gently like a spoiled child. Fishface just kept trying to drag me. If I'd had the energy, I'd have pushed her away and sent her flying across the floor. "NO!" I was almost screaming at her, attempting to roll back over. In my tired and sickly state, she had almost twice as much strength as I did and got me to sit up. I just kept slapping at her arms, as if beating off weeds or vines all around the convent garden.
"Now, now, why are you actin' like this?" This girl had a lot of patience, and I had none.
Sighing, I gave in. "I don't know, honestly." I slouched over tiredly, as she began to pull my shirt up.
A few minutes later, I was submerged in the tub, now filled with water instead of clothing. I hated having Fishface in the room, but I was deeply grateful to finally get a bath. Maybe I'd have been in a better mood if the water wasn't ice cold. I closed my eyes and just sat there soaking for a moment. The iciness of the water brought those green eyes into my mind, since they seemed so much alike. I remembered when he had lay there staring at me, his eyes didn't seem cold then. I couldn't put my finger on what they had been, but it certainly wasn't cold.
"All right, let's wash your hair," Fishface's voice brought me back, and I relented to let her soak and shampoo my hair clean. At least she wasn't talking, and my mind was free to wander. But I kept wandering right back to that stare Spot had given me after he had awakened, and it made my cheeks feel strangely warm again. "You're startin' to feel warmer, maybe you've got a fever." Sure Fishface, I had a fever. I was content to let the girl think whatever she wanted, as long as she wasn't going to ask me any questions. We can't always get what we want, though. "So... has Spot got you cleaning the place for the party?"
Great, now I had to have a conversation with her. "What party?"
"You know, the party tomorrow night! For me birthday?"
"A birthday party? Here? For you?" Oh, wonderful. Now she had ME asking the questions.
"Yeah, Spot was nice enough to offer to throw me a party tomorrow, right here at his place. Ain't that nice?"
"That is nice." Is THAT why he was making me clean his stupid clubhouse? So he could give this girl a birthday party? How typical of him.
She was almost done with my hair. "Are ya gonna be there?"
"I don't know... I may still be sick tomorrow night..." there had to be a way to get myself out of this.
"Aw, I'd love if you were there. We could talk some more, get to know each other better, huh?"
I sighed, "I guess I can try."
"Wonderful!" Her cheerfulness was aggravating me at the moment, I still didn't know why though.
"So... how old will you be?" I might as well at least have pretended to be interested.
"Sixteen, can ya believe it?"
I looked disbelievingly at her. "You're only gonna be sixteen?" She gave a smiling nod and finished with my hair. I couldn't believe she was younger than me, even if only by a few days. She seemed so much older, just the way she carried herself and with what seemed to be natural maturity. I had thought she was at least seventeen, like the Cowboy.
The next day I was feeling considerably better. Fishface had brought me more suitable clothing, a calico skirt and a dark red blouse that buttoned up all the way to the top, and I had to admit, I liked the way she had braided my hair, although her excessive cheer was quite annoying in itself, I couldn't help but like her... just a little bit.
I had almost finished cleaning the downstairs for Fishface's birthday party to be held later that night when the one and only Spot Conlon came waltzing in, mud on his shoes and rapping that cane against the ground as he crossed the barrier, not even having the common decency to wipe his feet.
I gave a silent groan then turned from wiping off the top of one of the corner crates from cobwebs and looked back at the floor he had crossed, mud tracked all the way across it. I picked up the bucket, which I had luckily not yet emptied, and the scrub brush and silently started scrubbing the floor again. I swear, he must have thought I had gone completely off my trolley.
The next words that escaped him were, "What are you doing?" He looked, almost bewildered. I was almost glad that I had started cleaning the floor he had dirtied up.
"I'm cleaning up the mess on the floor Spot, what are you doing?" I said curtly, pushing the brush across the floor briskly, finishing cleaning the mud and going back to the crate I'd been dusting a moment before.
Spot was silent for a moment, I turned around and stared at him, he was gazing at me, I couldn't read the look in his eyes anymore. I could only hope to God that he wasn't thinking I was garbage. Why? I'm not entirely sure.
I stared at him briefly, "What?" I demanded, "I'm just cleaning up the stupid mess you and your lot left around here!"
"Nothing.." Spot trailed off and picked up a cigarette. He turned and looked at me one last time, as if he were confused, I gave him a 'What the hell are you staring at?' look and he turned and walked out of the clubhouse, once again, leaving bits of mud across the floor.
When I emerged from the upstairs portion of the clubhouse, I felt completely refreshed. I had dumped my cleaning water from scrubbing the floor out the window (but I did not get the pleasure of mauling Spot Conlon with the bucket this time) and filled it with clean water, which I used to wash my face. I used the window as a mirror as I braided my hair back into two French braids down the side of my head. I checked the mirror in the stairwell before I went down into what I could already hear was quite a party, from the loud Irish music to the stomping of some dancing feet, I had to admit, This was the best I had looked the entire time I had been staying in Brooklyn, and I was going to make sure that I rubbed it right into Spot Conlon's nose.
When I finally made my way down into the room, I was taken in by a big bear hug. It took me a moment to realize that it was only Patrick. Of course he was coming to Fishface's party. They WERE good friends after all. I smiled, "Hi Patrick," I said softly, still feeling a little bit weak from being ill, but I didn't let him know that.
"Listen, I brought somethin' for ya," he said, smiling and reaching into his pocket. I watched curiously as he pulled out a folded handkerchief and handed it to me. It felt heavy, indicating that something was folded inside. Looking up at him and raising an eyebrow playfully, I carefully unwrapped it. Upon unfolding it, I found a beautiful turquoise necklace with intricately decorated beads, tied together by a satin blue ribbon. I looked back up at him, shocked that he was giving me something like this. How did he ever get this? How in the world did he pay for it? As I stood there with my mouth open in wonder, he just grinned and said softly, "Happy Birthday, Shortstack."
I felt like crying, he'd gotten a beautiful gift for me, and I hadn't been able to get him anything for our birthday. I smiled at him and said guiltily, "I didn't get you anything..."
"It's okay," he put his arm on my shoulder. "I've got my baby sister back." I smiled again, if he only knew how unhappy I was in Brooklyn. But I didn't have the heart to tell him that what he was trying to do for me made me miserable.
After a few minutes of talking with my brother, we were interrupted as a quick dance started, and someone softly touched my arm, I looked up at Kerry as he extended his arm to me, asking, "May I have this dance?" as politely as he could. I smiled and nodded, leaving Patrick by his self and joining Kerry on the dance floor.
To be completely honest, I had never danced this way before, So I let Kerry totally take the lead. I was a bit uncomfortable at first, because at all the church dances I'd ever been to (there had been quite a few too), not even the most risqué of the couples had danced as close as Kerry and I were dancing. After the first few dances I shared with him however, I started to get used to it. In fact I rather enjoyed this risqué sort of dancing.
Around the fifth dance, my eye suddenly caught something. Spot Conlon was standing in the back corner, all alone. We turned with the music, and I caught his eye. He seemed to be watching someone, I followed the direction of his eyes. Fishface. She was dancing with Jack, like she had been the entire night. Spot took another swig of his drink and turned around, once again, I lost his eyes in the crowd.