Kerry softly pushed my hair out of my face as we sat out on the dock again,
staring across the East river at night, the streetlamps flickered with the
wind silently. He seemed so quiet that night. His dark brown hair was
blowing back off his face with the wind, but mine was blowing all into my
face. It was about to storm. There was one of those silent calms, that last
ten minutes, those beautiful calms before the storm, the moment where the
entire city of New York is silent, and then the rain comes down.
"Kerry," I whispered, he looked at me with those big blue eyes, they were so honest and pure, just like him, "How come you live here? I mean, with Conlon and stuff?"
Kerry looked hesitant, his eyes darted back and forth, and he looked away from me, back out onto the river. "My dad died when I was eight. Never knew my ma." He trailed off for a moment. I wasn't sure if he was going to add anything else, "Warrick was leader back then, I never understood why he picked Spot to be leader when he left. He was a good man. Never did wrong by none of his boys."
I nodded, "You like it here though?"
Kerry shifted around nervously, "Yeah, I guess it's alright, you know where I wanta go though?"
I looked up at him and smiled, "Where?"
He smiled, picking up my hand and kissing it, "Back home. to Scotland. I was born there, y'know." I smiled, I could tell by his accent, but it was nice to hear him talk about it, "Lived there 'til I was six, and Bonnie, it was one of the most beautiful places. much better than New York."
"I bet it was," I said softly, wishing I had some place like that to talk about.
"We should go one day, Bonnie," He smiled, "Just you and me." He was just musing with himself of course, but the thought was nice. We sat in silence for a few minutes.
I smiled weakly, but he didn't say anything more about it. He just stared quietly out onto the East River, lightly humming a tune under his breath. "What are you humming?" I asked him quietly. He looked over at me and smiled. He had the nicest smile. It made me. want to smile back at him. And I did.
"Just this song," He said softly, once again, pushing some of my hair out of my face, I almost cursed myself for not braiding it, but I realized how much I liked it when he brushed his calloused fingers across my face so lovingly, He started singing softly, his voice was smooth as butter, but he kept where no one but me could hear him, "By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes; where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond; Oh we two have passed so many blithesome days; On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond; Oh ye'll take the high road, and I'll take the low road; and I'll be in Scotland afore ye; But me and my true love will never meet again; On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond." He blushed and hung his head, laughing and holding his hand up to his forehead embarrassedly, "It's been in my head for weeks now, keep humming it while I'm sellin', when I'm eatin', I bet I even hum it when I'm sleepin'."
He seemed very embarrassed to have just sang to me, "It's pretty," I smiled, touching his hand that he used to prop his muscular body up softly with my tiny fingers.
He smiled, and picked up my hand, "You know," He said softly, his accent soothed me so, "Whenever you feel alone, just look at the spaces between your fingers," He held my delicate fingers apart and stared at me through the spaces, he had this thoughtful look about him, "And just remember, that my fingers are right there, locked with yours forever." He trailed off as he added the last bit, intertwining his fingers with mine. I smiled as he leaned in and brushed his mouth with mine. I remembered the night I'd met him, when he'd pulled me into that alley so that no one could hurt me, scared me into thinking he was going to have his way with me and toss me into the river. I would have chuckled at the thought of Kerry "having his way" with any girl, except for the fact that my mouth had been a little bit occupied at the moment.
In my heart, I knew I didn't deserve him. I knew that Kerry would forever be something that I had at least once had, but never in my life deserved, however, at the moment it didn't matter. I smiled as he released me and softly rested his forehead on mine, and he smiled back. I loved his smile. He had this way of smiling so sweetly, so purely that I didn't think it was possible that he was real, it made me want to smile back at him, and I kept on doing so.
For the next few precious weeks, I received a new bouquet of daisies a day before I woke. Every day I would smile to myself and become consumed in their fragrance, knowing that down in the streets of Brooklyn, there was a newsboy in love with me. Anabeth Meyers. And thinking of him, I would smile to myself and become a-flutter with giggles, leaving a questioning Ruth MacKilligan indifferently staring at me from her usual position staring out the window. I would, in turn, inform her of how wonderful her brother was and she would give me one of her tainted-million-dollar smiles, and nod. She knew it and I knew it: Kerry MacKilligan was the most beautiful person in all of New York.
Suddenly in those weeks, Spot Conlon became almost a thing of the past. I rarely saw him, never talked to him, and I was living in his clubhouse. When I did see him, all we ever did was exchange an awkward glance. I did try my best to forget about him. But he was just always there, in the back of my mind. I avoided the subject of him completely, especially when talking with Kerry. Maybe I could have forgotten about him, if I never had to see him again. But at one time or another, he was unavoidable.
Eventually there came the moment when a conversation with him was inevitable.
It was about a month after that first bouqet of flowers. Kerry was out selling, and it was late morning so I expected him back soon. I'd grown tired of waiting in the hot sun out on the docks, so I decided to wait for him in the clubhouse. Walking in, I didn't see anyone else inside the main room, so I undid the top button on my blouse. If it hadn't been undignified, I'd have taken the whole thing off, it was just too hot to be sitting around in a shirt that covered me completely up to my neck. Closing my eyes, I wiped the sweat off of my forehead as I walked further into the room. When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I saw was a pair of emeralds staring back at me.
I took a step backwards and barely escaped stumbling over my own feet. Why hadn't he told me he was there?
"Hey," he said quietly, as if apprehensive.
"Hey, Spot..." I glanced around nervously, trying to avoid his eyes, once again not laughing at me in that way I detested so much.
"Well it's uh... it's hot today, huh?" As he spoke, I realized that he must have seen me uncover the spot where my blouse covered my neckline, and I tried quickly with one hand to button it up again, also trying not to seem obvious. I didn't succeed at all. "It's okay, you don't have to... you know, cover up, just because of me," he gestured slightly towards my blouse. Even though he seemed to be fine with us being familiar, I still kept my hand over my collar, trying in one respect to seem a bit dignified. It dawned on me that since I had been going with Kerry, I always wanted to appear ladylike to all the other newsboys, as if to let them know that I wasn't just something he occupied time with. Spot seemed to see past that, as if he knew how improper I could really be. But then, after our night upstairs not so long before, he probably did.
"I think I'll stay covered up anyway, if it's all the same to you," I wasn't asking his permission, but he gave a small approving nod anyway. He was just too arrogant sometimes.
The two of us just stood there, and we must have looked incredibly foolish. He shifted his eyes down to his feet, while I pretended to be fascinated with a crate in the corner.
After a moment, I heard his voice, but he didn't look up and I didn't look at him. "I, um..." I heard him take a deep breath, and at a quick corner glance I noticed that hand twitching again. "Look, I've been wanting to say this for awhile, and I guess puttin' it off is just stupid." Looking at him disbelievingly, I couldn't help laughing. His eyes came up to meet mine, "What?"
"I'm sorry... it's just..." I regained my composure a bit and bit my lip to stifle laughter, "Never mind."
His mouth turned a bit into a half-smile, and for some unexplained reason my stomach flipped. "What is it?"
I couldn't hold in my smile, "Well, sorry, but it just... it just sounded like the king of Brooklyn called himself stupid." I shook my head.
"Well, now there you go twistin' my words again," he smiled widely, his green eyes glowing radiantly. "I said that puttin' off sayin' somethin' was stupid, I didn't say that I was stupid."
"All right then," I still had a trace of a smile on my lips. Suddenly I didn't feel like being curt with him. "So, um, what was it you wanted to say?"
Spot's smile faded and his eyes became serious yet again. "I just wanted to give this another try," he paused, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Was I imagining it, or did the mighty Spot Conlon look nervous? "I..." his eyes bore directly into mine, in that strangely unnerving way they had, "I want to say, again, that I'm... I'm sorry."
I had to smile again, amused at how difficult an apology seemed for him. "Sorry for what?"
"I, um, well, I was really kinda rude to ya for awhile, and I just wanted to see if you'd forgive me for it now, since it's been awhile and we haven't talked, so I thought that you might be a little more willin' to let me say I'm sorry or... somethin..." he looked back down at his feet. "I really am sorry that I was such a jerk at first, I don't wanna be like that to ya anymore."
Grinning again, I decided to have a bit of fun. "Well..." I pretended to be considering whether or not I should forgive him completely. Truthfully, I had tried to forget the way he'd treated me. "I suppose I could find it in my heart to forgive you... on one condition."
Looking back up, his face looked almost hopeful. "And that would be?"
I glanced up over at the stairway leading upstairs, feeling a hint of mischief in my smile, and hoping that he noticed. "Help me clean the floor upstairs."
"Kerry," I whispered, he looked at me with those big blue eyes, they were so honest and pure, just like him, "How come you live here? I mean, with Conlon and stuff?"
Kerry looked hesitant, his eyes darted back and forth, and he looked away from me, back out onto the river. "My dad died when I was eight. Never knew my ma." He trailed off for a moment. I wasn't sure if he was going to add anything else, "Warrick was leader back then, I never understood why he picked Spot to be leader when he left. He was a good man. Never did wrong by none of his boys."
I nodded, "You like it here though?"
Kerry shifted around nervously, "Yeah, I guess it's alright, you know where I wanta go though?"
I looked up at him and smiled, "Where?"
He smiled, picking up my hand and kissing it, "Back home. to Scotland. I was born there, y'know." I smiled, I could tell by his accent, but it was nice to hear him talk about it, "Lived there 'til I was six, and Bonnie, it was one of the most beautiful places. much better than New York."
"I bet it was," I said softly, wishing I had some place like that to talk about.
"We should go one day, Bonnie," He smiled, "Just you and me." He was just musing with himself of course, but the thought was nice. We sat in silence for a few minutes.
I smiled weakly, but he didn't say anything more about it. He just stared quietly out onto the East River, lightly humming a tune under his breath. "What are you humming?" I asked him quietly. He looked over at me and smiled. He had the nicest smile. It made me. want to smile back at him. And I did.
"Just this song," He said softly, once again, pushing some of my hair out of my face, I almost cursed myself for not braiding it, but I realized how much I liked it when he brushed his calloused fingers across my face so lovingly, He started singing softly, his voice was smooth as butter, but he kept where no one but me could hear him, "By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes; where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond; Oh we two have passed so many blithesome days; On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond; Oh ye'll take the high road, and I'll take the low road; and I'll be in Scotland afore ye; But me and my true love will never meet again; On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond." He blushed and hung his head, laughing and holding his hand up to his forehead embarrassedly, "It's been in my head for weeks now, keep humming it while I'm sellin', when I'm eatin', I bet I even hum it when I'm sleepin'."
He seemed very embarrassed to have just sang to me, "It's pretty," I smiled, touching his hand that he used to prop his muscular body up softly with my tiny fingers.
He smiled, and picked up my hand, "You know," He said softly, his accent soothed me so, "Whenever you feel alone, just look at the spaces between your fingers," He held my delicate fingers apart and stared at me through the spaces, he had this thoughtful look about him, "And just remember, that my fingers are right there, locked with yours forever." He trailed off as he added the last bit, intertwining his fingers with mine. I smiled as he leaned in and brushed his mouth with mine. I remembered the night I'd met him, when he'd pulled me into that alley so that no one could hurt me, scared me into thinking he was going to have his way with me and toss me into the river. I would have chuckled at the thought of Kerry "having his way" with any girl, except for the fact that my mouth had been a little bit occupied at the moment.
In my heart, I knew I didn't deserve him. I knew that Kerry would forever be something that I had at least once had, but never in my life deserved, however, at the moment it didn't matter. I smiled as he released me and softly rested his forehead on mine, and he smiled back. I loved his smile. He had this way of smiling so sweetly, so purely that I didn't think it was possible that he was real, it made me want to smile back at him, and I kept on doing so.
For the next few precious weeks, I received a new bouquet of daisies a day before I woke. Every day I would smile to myself and become consumed in their fragrance, knowing that down in the streets of Brooklyn, there was a newsboy in love with me. Anabeth Meyers. And thinking of him, I would smile to myself and become a-flutter with giggles, leaving a questioning Ruth MacKilligan indifferently staring at me from her usual position staring out the window. I would, in turn, inform her of how wonderful her brother was and she would give me one of her tainted-million-dollar smiles, and nod. She knew it and I knew it: Kerry MacKilligan was the most beautiful person in all of New York.
Suddenly in those weeks, Spot Conlon became almost a thing of the past. I rarely saw him, never talked to him, and I was living in his clubhouse. When I did see him, all we ever did was exchange an awkward glance. I did try my best to forget about him. But he was just always there, in the back of my mind. I avoided the subject of him completely, especially when talking with Kerry. Maybe I could have forgotten about him, if I never had to see him again. But at one time or another, he was unavoidable.
Eventually there came the moment when a conversation with him was inevitable.
It was about a month after that first bouqet of flowers. Kerry was out selling, and it was late morning so I expected him back soon. I'd grown tired of waiting in the hot sun out on the docks, so I decided to wait for him in the clubhouse. Walking in, I didn't see anyone else inside the main room, so I undid the top button on my blouse. If it hadn't been undignified, I'd have taken the whole thing off, it was just too hot to be sitting around in a shirt that covered me completely up to my neck. Closing my eyes, I wiped the sweat off of my forehead as I walked further into the room. When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I saw was a pair of emeralds staring back at me.
I took a step backwards and barely escaped stumbling over my own feet. Why hadn't he told me he was there?
"Hey," he said quietly, as if apprehensive.
"Hey, Spot..." I glanced around nervously, trying to avoid his eyes, once again not laughing at me in that way I detested so much.
"Well it's uh... it's hot today, huh?" As he spoke, I realized that he must have seen me uncover the spot where my blouse covered my neckline, and I tried quickly with one hand to button it up again, also trying not to seem obvious. I didn't succeed at all. "It's okay, you don't have to... you know, cover up, just because of me," he gestured slightly towards my blouse. Even though he seemed to be fine with us being familiar, I still kept my hand over my collar, trying in one respect to seem a bit dignified. It dawned on me that since I had been going with Kerry, I always wanted to appear ladylike to all the other newsboys, as if to let them know that I wasn't just something he occupied time with. Spot seemed to see past that, as if he knew how improper I could really be. But then, after our night upstairs not so long before, he probably did.
"I think I'll stay covered up anyway, if it's all the same to you," I wasn't asking his permission, but he gave a small approving nod anyway. He was just too arrogant sometimes.
The two of us just stood there, and we must have looked incredibly foolish. He shifted his eyes down to his feet, while I pretended to be fascinated with a crate in the corner.
After a moment, I heard his voice, but he didn't look up and I didn't look at him. "I, um..." I heard him take a deep breath, and at a quick corner glance I noticed that hand twitching again. "Look, I've been wanting to say this for awhile, and I guess puttin' it off is just stupid." Looking at him disbelievingly, I couldn't help laughing. His eyes came up to meet mine, "What?"
"I'm sorry... it's just..." I regained my composure a bit and bit my lip to stifle laughter, "Never mind."
His mouth turned a bit into a half-smile, and for some unexplained reason my stomach flipped. "What is it?"
I couldn't hold in my smile, "Well, sorry, but it just... it just sounded like the king of Brooklyn called himself stupid." I shook my head.
"Well, now there you go twistin' my words again," he smiled widely, his green eyes glowing radiantly. "I said that puttin' off sayin' somethin' was stupid, I didn't say that I was stupid."
"All right then," I still had a trace of a smile on my lips. Suddenly I didn't feel like being curt with him. "So, um, what was it you wanted to say?"
Spot's smile faded and his eyes became serious yet again. "I just wanted to give this another try," he paused, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Was I imagining it, or did the mighty Spot Conlon look nervous? "I..." his eyes bore directly into mine, in that strangely unnerving way they had, "I want to say, again, that I'm... I'm sorry."
I had to smile again, amused at how difficult an apology seemed for him. "Sorry for what?"
"I, um, well, I was really kinda rude to ya for awhile, and I just wanted to see if you'd forgive me for it now, since it's been awhile and we haven't talked, so I thought that you might be a little more willin' to let me say I'm sorry or... somethin..." he looked back down at his feet. "I really am sorry that I was such a jerk at first, I don't wanna be like that to ya anymore."
Grinning again, I decided to have a bit of fun. "Well..." I pretended to be considering whether or not I should forgive him completely. Truthfully, I had tried to forget the way he'd treated me. "I suppose I could find it in my heart to forgive you... on one condition."
Looking back up, his face looked almost hopeful. "And that would be?"
I glanced up over at the stairway leading upstairs, feeling a hint of mischief in my smile, and hoping that he noticed. "Help me clean the floor upstairs."