A/N - Okay there has been some confusion as to Spot's actions in
Chapter Thirteen and I would like to clear them up so people aren't so
confused. Mmkay let's begin. The Brooklyn kids will take a long time to
accept Misery even though she didn't personally do anything to them. It's
like this; if you get into a bad spot with a person the chances of you
running into their family members and being civil are slim to none. Maybe
it's just me, but that's how I am. It's not fair, I know but I know a lot
of people who are that way.
Their friend Cards died not too long ago and they are still very much grieving for him and they want to take it out on anyone in anyway they possibly can. Misery just happens to be the unlucky person at this time. Spot cannot lose face to his gang without having to step down as a leader. He ultimately has to go with whatever the masses want although they do follow his orders, you can't hold back the tide.
So there you have it. I hope that clears things up some? I'll try to explain more in this chapter *hopeful look* -- A/N
Shout Outs
BrkLnLady - I know, aren't cliffhangers annoying? *evil grin* Don't worry I won't stop updating this story, that POTC story is just a side project.
Pokey7 - Yeah I figured you'd get a kick out of your character throwing people around. Heheh.Yeah I will have everything resolved at some point or another, don't you worry! I'm glad you saw where I was going with the Spot thing; it's not that he's trying to be a jackass; he just sort of has to be.
Jocelyn Padoga - What now indeed? You'll have to read and find out!! :D
Erinsailorditz -- *hands you a tissue* Yes you're allowed to cry. I'm sorry I made you cry though..*stands out of your way* You go show Brooklyn who's boss.
Cabby1 - I hope I cleared up why Brooklyn doesn't like Misery. It's more of a what family she belongs to than who she is, but Brooklyn is too blind to pay attention to that right now. They're just out for blood, and they know that she ran with the Finnegan gang most of her life, albeit not because she had a choice. *scratches head* I think I just confused myself...
Luin/BrkLnLady - Suspenders do rock!! I love boys who wear suspenders. Yes I do. Spot is being a jerk but he'll get better.
NaughteeLady - Spot doesn't hate Misery, he's just doing what his newsies expect him to do. He can't really go against all of his boys or else they'll turn on him and that's his life being the leader, sooo he's ordering a 'war' on Manhattan. Don't worry; Spot's smarter than you think. The boys who called her the 'Finnegan whore' were Brooklyn newsies. They're still in Brooklyn. I hope this helps?
BrooklynMyst - Yes cliffhangers do suck but I do so enjoy writing them. I originally wanted Misery and Spot to be together but they didn't really work that well to me so we'll see what happens. *wink*
Chelsea - baaaaahahaha I love the South Park movie. That show is the bomb. You have the Monkees in your closet? That can't be very comfortable for them. Tension and triangles are rockin'. I like this one especially myself..Don't worry I have issues too *twitch*
JustDuck - Brooklyn is mostly boys and as we all know boys are pigheaded. Brooklyn is also not over their friend's death and so they feel they must hurt anybody who was remotely involved. I think I also mentioned in a previous chapter somewhere down the line that they were itching for a fight and any little thing would do. Spot will have to figure out a way to lay the smack down and reassert himself as head dawg, without hurting Manhattan. Yes Race is definitely still a sweetheart. I actually have a book I use for translations, I bought in Nova Scotia. There's also a website that I use, I can email you the link.
Sarah Kate - I don't know Gaelic per say I just use it in my stories. I have a Gaelic translation book that I use and I look it up online. Thank you for reading and reviewing!! I'm trying to hurry... :D
Spot sat in a chair by his window, leaning back his feet resting on the sill. He smoked a cigarette in stony silence, listening to the sounds of the fishermen out on the docks and the shouts and hollers of his boys. It was early evening and the sun was setting, its reds, yellows, oranges and lavenders turning the East River into something that was almost beautiful to behold.
He exhaled a cloud of bluish-black smoke and raised his eyes to the Heavens. He had no clue what he was going to do to make everything right. He had learned earlier that day that his boys had soaked Pie Eater, and then attacked Snitch and Dutchy. He knew Jack wouldn't take much more crap from the Brooklyn kids and no matter how scared Manhattan was of his boys they could get just as riled just as easy.
Spot had tried to talk his boys down from all this nonsense but the blood lust had been upon them and Knuckles had coolly half-challenged him for his leadership position. Spot had seen in the eyes of most of the boys that they didn't want Knuckles as their leader, but he had been uneasy to see acceptance in some of the others gazes. So he had done what he always did in a situation like that. He had beaten the almighty Hell out of Knuckles.
He hadn't stopped until Pokey screamed his name and Knuckles had spit up a mouthful of blood followed by a tooth and gurgled 'Uncle' up at him, his eyes wide and full of fear. Spot flexed his own knuckles gingerly and winced at the pain. They were swollen and he knew they would be black and blue for at least a week. But the pain was good to him somehow; it helped him from the numbness of sending Misery away.
He had seen the betrayal in her eyes and the flash of hurt that had crossed her face when he had told her she couldn't stay there anymore. He remembered how it felt to kiss her and joke with her and he grimaced. It was better this way. She would never have been able to see him until all this shit got dealt with and the spark that existed would undoubtedly have faded away. Besides, Spot wasn't a one woman man. He lifted the corner of his mouth in a weak smile as he tried to convince himself of that.
Spot dropped his cigarette into a brown glass bottle that perched on his window sill and listened to the embers hiss as they were extinguished by the dregs of beer. He watched the last wisps of smoke curl up out of the bottle and frowned in thought. There was no getting around his boys and their single-minded battle against anything Finnegan. He could make a stand, and they would follow, but not willingly. There was sure to be bad feelings and unless he was incredibly lucky, someone would try to usurp his leadership from him. Weaknesses were not tolerated in Brooklyn or in most street kids at that.
Spot couldn't let his feelings for Misery get in the way of his day to day life in Brooklyn. He had to come up with a way to get his boys off of Manhattan's backs. He was fairly certain they wouldn't give her up just to remain allies with Brooklyn. He was almost sure that he had a way to solve everything but he didn't know if Misery would go for it. Ruefully he shook his head and chuckled. He was positive she wouldn't go for it, but she might if he could make her see how important it was.
Standing up, he hitched his suspenders up over his shirt and slapped his cap onto his head. Tucking his cane into his belt loop he patted his rear pocket to make sure his slingshot was there, and lit another cigarette and placed it neatly into his mouth. Lighting it with a match he blew out the stub and exhaled. Time to go to Manhattan and relay his idea to Ms. Finnegan and see what she thought. A shadow crossed his face when he realized that Racetrack would definitely have a problem with it, but he brushed it off. Life wasn't fair, and Race certainly knew that. He'd get over it with time.
I sat on Racetrack's bunk watching people bandage up Pie Eater, Snitch, and Dutchy. There were no poker games, none of the younger kids were shooting marbles in the corner, and there wasn't any laughter. People were talking in hushed whispers and most looked downtrodden. Getting into a scrape with Brooklyn was a big thing. Thankfully I heard many of the kids wondering what the big deal was in the first place. Hadn't Brooklyn read the papers? Didn't they know that my involvement with my brothers wasn't voluntary?
Jack explained to them that it really didn't matter that I hadn't done anything, but that I was who I was. I felt hate curl into a rock in the pit of my stomach. I hated my brothers with a passion for all the hurt and trouble they caused me. For the first time in a week I truly felt like my nickname. I was a miserable person. I curled up resting my head on my knees and tried to blink tears away furiously.
Ladybug and Rags were cuddled by my feet, recognizing the tension in the room but not really understanding it. They knew I was upset and they stuck close to me, worried expressions on their little, thin faces. Rags wore my bowler hat tilted askew on his head. I didn't have the energy to take it away from him, nor did I feel like it.
"So what do we do Jack?" Mush sat astride a chair backwards, his brawny forearms resting on the top of it. Jack was sprawled on the floor, leaning against a bunk bed, Bourbon sitting on his right aimlessly throwing cards into a cap on the floor in front of her. Jack let out a breath, cigarette smoke trailing from his mouth.
"Nothing we can do for now, Mush until Spot comes to his senses or makes his boys do the same. Nobody sells alone, and I know none of ya are cowards, but if you see any Brooklyn kids you hightail it to somewhere safe. No sense in getting bloodied if it can be avoided. You hear me?" His question encompassed all of us and we all said 'Yeah' in a muted tone.
I looked up to see Jack's brown eyes studying me and he spoke up once again.
"Misery isn't to go anywhere without at least one or two of you bigger guys with her either. That's asking for trouble, and we all know it." I held his gaze and tried to look thankful, but inside I felt like the world's biggest nuisance.
The bed sunk down and creaked in protest as Racetrack sat by my side. He held out an apple and I remembered the carefree afternoon we had shared in the park right before I stole a bunch of cigarettes. I took it from him with murmured thanks and with my switchblade began carving it up to share with Rags and Ladybug. The two younger children beamed at me and ate the fruit happily, juice running down their chins.
"I got that for you, ya know," Racetrack admonished me gently. I smiled up at him and he looked away flustered. I wondered how long it would be before he acted on his feelings for me. I knew the kiss we had shared had been spontaneous and he had acted merely on impulse. I wasn't sure if he would ever work up the courage to do it again. Still smiling I shook my head slightly. All wisecracks and swagger on the outside and so much uncertainty on the inside. He nudged me with his elbow and mock glowered at me.
"You laughin' at me toots?" I held up my hands and widened my eyes feigning innocence.
"Why of course not, sir. Why would I ever do that?" Racetrack snorted and we started to laugh, the sound echoing in the unusually subdued bunk room. It was as if that was the moment everyone had been waiting for. Chatter almost immediately sprang up, and the three injured boys were finally done being tended to by Meesh who went to the washroom to clean up. Racetrack winked at me and I was taken aback when he slid his arm around my shoulders.
"Good, now everyone will start acting normal. Too damn strange it being that quiet in here." I nodded and at a loss of what to do, just sat with Racetrack on his bunk watching the rest of the kids begin snapping back from the day's events.
Kid Blink and Mush talked Racetrack into starting a poker game, although I laughed at how much 'convincing' they needed to do. Listening to the boys slapping cards down onto the tabletop lulled me into a comfortable state that I hadn't seen in days. It abruptly was brought to a halt when one Spot Conlon sauntered into the room.
Everything stopped, laughter, talking, Race even paused one of his hands held up in the air, in the act of throwing down a card. Jack met Spot's eyes and they hardened instantly. Spot held up his hands in a placating gesture.
"I'm not here to start any trouble, Jack. I need to talk to Misery." Jack rose and circled around Spot warily, like a stray dog sniffing out an intruder. He finally stopped and stood an inch away from Spot's face. The two boys stood at a standstill for what seemed like an eternity before Jack jerked his head in my direction.
"So talk to her and get your business done. It'll be lights out soon, and some of our boys need extra rest." His barbed tone wasn't missed by Brooklyn's leader who impassively swept his gaze across the room to where Snitch, Pie Eater, and Dutchy lay abed. I was already standing at that point, my knees slightly weak, and my jaw firm as I glared at Spot.
Spot made his way towards me ignoring the glowers and muttered words as he strode through the bunk room. I glanced over at Racetrack and saw him sitting tensed a frown creasing his face. I held a hand up to him briefly, sending him a look that said I would be 'OK'. Spot took my elbow in his hand and with a lifting of his chin indicated that we should go out the window and up onto the roof to talk.
The window was already cracked, it being a nice night outside. Plus with twenty odd boys who smoked cigars and cigarettes, fresh air was a necessity. Spot yanked the sash up the rest of the way and stood aside to let me climb out first. I did so and hooked my arm and leg around the ladder and clambered up onto the rooftop. Kloppman had a rope up there and I almost smiled when I saw some laundry flapping in the breeze.
Night had come to the city, and stars were beginning to shine in the sky. I folded my arms and leaned up against the wall, waiting. Spot finally dropped down and we stood in silence, not saying anything for a few moments.
"So what do you want?" I was surprised at how acidic my tone was. Spot didn't seem troubled by it. I could see the glint of his teeth as he smiled at me. Striking a match he lit a cigarette and handed it to me. I almost threw it away but the craving for nicotine made me inhale the smoke greedily.
"I got a proposition for ya," he said. I blinked at him and was instantly curious. He coughed and spat a gob of spit onto the roof and I made a face. Boys, always making disgusting noises or producing wads of phlegm that would choke a giant.
"My boys won't let me leave you be. They've decided that until their vengeance is satisfied that they've got it out for ya. I don't think they'd kill ya, but we don't want to take the chances of anything else unpleasant happening..again." I shuddered at his meaning and curled in on myself. I felt Spot's hands on my shoulders and I turned blindly into his arms. Realizing suddenly that I was furious with him I threw his hands off of me and stepped away.
"What do you care, you let them hurt those boys because of me." Spot sighed and dropped his head a little bit.
"It wasn't that I let them, Misery. They took it into their own hands. There's only so much I can do to control such a group of boys. Sure, they look to me to lead them and make the important decisions, but Cards was one of ours. They miss him and they don't know how to deal with it. Things will die down eventually and this is where my proposition kicks in." I felt a breeze stir the ends of my unbound hair and lift them away from my shoulders. I faced Spot and raised an eyebrow at him. I didn't know if he could see that or not, but he must have taken my silence as permission to continue.
"I used to see this girl, before she moved to New Hampshire with her Aunt and Uncle. I get letters from her now and again; I guess she's really stuck on me." His tone briefly became smug and I made an impatient noise in my throat. He hurried on, taking a drag off of his cigarette.
"My idea is this, why don't you lay low for awhile. You know, take a vacation. I can telegraph this girl and see what she says, but I bet for me, she'd let you stay with them. I guess her and her Aunt run a boarding house near the ocean, really nice part of the country. I figure if you go and stay out there for awhile, things can die down here and then when all's clear and I can make my boys listen to reason, I'll send for you." I think my mouth must have been touching my knees it was open so wide.
"You want me to run away?" Spot made a frustrated sound and he grasped my shoulders firmly, shaking me slightly in the process.
"No you idiot, I want you to get out of here for your own good, that's what I want. It's perfect, don't deny that. Don't you want a chance to get out of here? See some other part of the country, try something new? That's all any of us are looking for. It's not like you couldn't come back, I wouldn't leave you there."
"I don't have any money," I said flatly turning to rest my hands on the low wall surrounding the rooftop. Spot moved to stand next to me as he chucked his cigarette down towards the sidewalk below making a sound of disappointment when he missed a man scurrying by.
"I'll help you out," he stated quietly. I snorted and would have protested further, but my heart wasn't in it. Spot had planted the seed of an idea that might just work. It would hurt me to leave these kids and especially Racetrack, but if it stopped them from getting hurt then I would have no choice. I looked over to see Spot making his way towards the ladder.
"I have to get back to Brooklyn. I'll put in the telegram tomorrow just in case, but I'll need an answer when I get a response from her. This could be the only way to stop this Misery, so please think about it."
"I will, Spot." He nodded at my words and without saying anything else disappeared down the ladder. I was up on the rooftop for a long time after he left, staring up at the stars, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and erratic thoughts. There seemed to be no other way, but what good would running away do?
"Maybe all the good in the world," I muttered as I started to make my own way back into the lodging house. Tomorrow was another day, and with it came waking up early to sell newspapers. I had a lot of thinking to do and I wouldn't be able to do it if I didn't get any sleep. Sighing, I shook my head and headed down.
Their friend Cards died not too long ago and they are still very much grieving for him and they want to take it out on anyone in anyway they possibly can. Misery just happens to be the unlucky person at this time. Spot cannot lose face to his gang without having to step down as a leader. He ultimately has to go with whatever the masses want although they do follow his orders, you can't hold back the tide.
So there you have it. I hope that clears things up some? I'll try to explain more in this chapter *hopeful look* -- A/N
Shout Outs
BrkLnLady - I know, aren't cliffhangers annoying? *evil grin* Don't worry I won't stop updating this story, that POTC story is just a side project.
Pokey7 - Yeah I figured you'd get a kick out of your character throwing people around. Heheh.Yeah I will have everything resolved at some point or another, don't you worry! I'm glad you saw where I was going with the Spot thing; it's not that he's trying to be a jackass; he just sort of has to be.
Jocelyn Padoga - What now indeed? You'll have to read and find out!! :D
Erinsailorditz -- *hands you a tissue* Yes you're allowed to cry. I'm sorry I made you cry though..*stands out of your way* You go show Brooklyn who's boss.
Cabby1 - I hope I cleared up why Brooklyn doesn't like Misery. It's more of a what family she belongs to than who she is, but Brooklyn is too blind to pay attention to that right now. They're just out for blood, and they know that she ran with the Finnegan gang most of her life, albeit not because she had a choice. *scratches head* I think I just confused myself...
Luin/BrkLnLady - Suspenders do rock!! I love boys who wear suspenders. Yes I do. Spot is being a jerk but he'll get better.
NaughteeLady - Spot doesn't hate Misery, he's just doing what his newsies expect him to do. He can't really go against all of his boys or else they'll turn on him and that's his life being the leader, sooo he's ordering a 'war' on Manhattan. Don't worry; Spot's smarter than you think. The boys who called her the 'Finnegan whore' were Brooklyn newsies. They're still in Brooklyn. I hope this helps?
BrooklynMyst - Yes cliffhangers do suck but I do so enjoy writing them. I originally wanted Misery and Spot to be together but they didn't really work that well to me so we'll see what happens. *wink*
Chelsea - baaaaahahaha I love the South Park movie. That show is the bomb. You have the Monkees in your closet? That can't be very comfortable for them. Tension and triangles are rockin'. I like this one especially myself..Don't worry I have issues too *twitch*
JustDuck - Brooklyn is mostly boys and as we all know boys are pigheaded. Brooklyn is also not over their friend's death and so they feel they must hurt anybody who was remotely involved. I think I also mentioned in a previous chapter somewhere down the line that they were itching for a fight and any little thing would do. Spot will have to figure out a way to lay the smack down and reassert himself as head dawg, without hurting Manhattan. Yes Race is definitely still a sweetheart. I actually have a book I use for translations, I bought in Nova Scotia. There's also a website that I use, I can email you the link.
Sarah Kate - I don't know Gaelic per say I just use it in my stories. I have a Gaelic translation book that I use and I look it up online. Thank you for reading and reviewing!! I'm trying to hurry... :D
Spot sat in a chair by his window, leaning back his feet resting on the sill. He smoked a cigarette in stony silence, listening to the sounds of the fishermen out on the docks and the shouts and hollers of his boys. It was early evening and the sun was setting, its reds, yellows, oranges and lavenders turning the East River into something that was almost beautiful to behold.
He exhaled a cloud of bluish-black smoke and raised his eyes to the Heavens. He had no clue what he was going to do to make everything right. He had learned earlier that day that his boys had soaked Pie Eater, and then attacked Snitch and Dutchy. He knew Jack wouldn't take much more crap from the Brooklyn kids and no matter how scared Manhattan was of his boys they could get just as riled just as easy.
Spot had tried to talk his boys down from all this nonsense but the blood lust had been upon them and Knuckles had coolly half-challenged him for his leadership position. Spot had seen in the eyes of most of the boys that they didn't want Knuckles as their leader, but he had been uneasy to see acceptance in some of the others gazes. So he had done what he always did in a situation like that. He had beaten the almighty Hell out of Knuckles.
He hadn't stopped until Pokey screamed his name and Knuckles had spit up a mouthful of blood followed by a tooth and gurgled 'Uncle' up at him, his eyes wide and full of fear. Spot flexed his own knuckles gingerly and winced at the pain. They were swollen and he knew they would be black and blue for at least a week. But the pain was good to him somehow; it helped him from the numbness of sending Misery away.
He had seen the betrayal in her eyes and the flash of hurt that had crossed her face when he had told her she couldn't stay there anymore. He remembered how it felt to kiss her and joke with her and he grimaced. It was better this way. She would never have been able to see him until all this shit got dealt with and the spark that existed would undoubtedly have faded away. Besides, Spot wasn't a one woman man. He lifted the corner of his mouth in a weak smile as he tried to convince himself of that.
Spot dropped his cigarette into a brown glass bottle that perched on his window sill and listened to the embers hiss as they were extinguished by the dregs of beer. He watched the last wisps of smoke curl up out of the bottle and frowned in thought. There was no getting around his boys and their single-minded battle against anything Finnegan. He could make a stand, and they would follow, but not willingly. There was sure to be bad feelings and unless he was incredibly lucky, someone would try to usurp his leadership from him. Weaknesses were not tolerated in Brooklyn or in most street kids at that.
Spot couldn't let his feelings for Misery get in the way of his day to day life in Brooklyn. He had to come up with a way to get his boys off of Manhattan's backs. He was fairly certain they wouldn't give her up just to remain allies with Brooklyn. He was almost sure that he had a way to solve everything but he didn't know if Misery would go for it. Ruefully he shook his head and chuckled. He was positive she wouldn't go for it, but she might if he could make her see how important it was.
Standing up, he hitched his suspenders up over his shirt and slapped his cap onto his head. Tucking his cane into his belt loop he patted his rear pocket to make sure his slingshot was there, and lit another cigarette and placed it neatly into his mouth. Lighting it with a match he blew out the stub and exhaled. Time to go to Manhattan and relay his idea to Ms. Finnegan and see what she thought. A shadow crossed his face when he realized that Racetrack would definitely have a problem with it, but he brushed it off. Life wasn't fair, and Race certainly knew that. He'd get over it with time.
I sat on Racetrack's bunk watching people bandage up Pie Eater, Snitch, and Dutchy. There were no poker games, none of the younger kids were shooting marbles in the corner, and there wasn't any laughter. People were talking in hushed whispers and most looked downtrodden. Getting into a scrape with Brooklyn was a big thing. Thankfully I heard many of the kids wondering what the big deal was in the first place. Hadn't Brooklyn read the papers? Didn't they know that my involvement with my brothers wasn't voluntary?
Jack explained to them that it really didn't matter that I hadn't done anything, but that I was who I was. I felt hate curl into a rock in the pit of my stomach. I hated my brothers with a passion for all the hurt and trouble they caused me. For the first time in a week I truly felt like my nickname. I was a miserable person. I curled up resting my head on my knees and tried to blink tears away furiously.
Ladybug and Rags were cuddled by my feet, recognizing the tension in the room but not really understanding it. They knew I was upset and they stuck close to me, worried expressions on their little, thin faces. Rags wore my bowler hat tilted askew on his head. I didn't have the energy to take it away from him, nor did I feel like it.
"So what do we do Jack?" Mush sat astride a chair backwards, his brawny forearms resting on the top of it. Jack was sprawled on the floor, leaning against a bunk bed, Bourbon sitting on his right aimlessly throwing cards into a cap on the floor in front of her. Jack let out a breath, cigarette smoke trailing from his mouth.
"Nothing we can do for now, Mush until Spot comes to his senses or makes his boys do the same. Nobody sells alone, and I know none of ya are cowards, but if you see any Brooklyn kids you hightail it to somewhere safe. No sense in getting bloodied if it can be avoided. You hear me?" His question encompassed all of us and we all said 'Yeah' in a muted tone.
I looked up to see Jack's brown eyes studying me and he spoke up once again.
"Misery isn't to go anywhere without at least one or two of you bigger guys with her either. That's asking for trouble, and we all know it." I held his gaze and tried to look thankful, but inside I felt like the world's biggest nuisance.
The bed sunk down and creaked in protest as Racetrack sat by my side. He held out an apple and I remembered the carefree afternoon we had shared in the park right before I stole a bunch of cigarettes. I took it from him with murmured thanks and with my switchblade began carving it up to share with Rags and Ladybug. The two younger children beamed at me and ate the fruit happily, juice running down their chins.
"I got that for you, ya know," Racetrack admonished me gently. I smiled up at him and he looked away flustered. I wondered how long it would be before he acted on his feelings for me. I knew the kiss we had shared had been spontaneous and he had acted merely on impulse. I wasn't sure if he would ever work up the courage to do it again. Still smiling I shook my head slightly. All wisecracks and swagger on the outside and so much uncertainty on the inside. He nudged me with his elbow and mock glowered at me.
"You laughin' at me toots?" I held up my hands and widened my eyes feigning innocence.
"Why of course not, sir. Why would I ever do that?" Racetrack snorted and we started to laugh, the sound echoing in the unusually subdued bunk room. It was as if that was the moment everyone had been waiting for. Chatter almost immediately sprang up, and the three injured boys were finally done being tended to by Meesh who went to the washroom to clean up. Racetrack winked at me and I was taken aback when he slid his arm around my shoulders.
"Good, now everyone will start acting normal. Too damn strange it being that quiet in here." I nodded and at a loss of what to do, just sat with Racetrack on his bunk watching the rest of the kids begin snapping back from the day's events.
Kid Blink and Mush talked Racetrack into starting a poker game, although I laughed at how much 'convincing' they needed to do. Listening to the boys slapping cards down onto the tabletop lulled me into a comfortable state that I hadn't seen in days. It abruptly was brought to a halt when one Spot Conlon sauntered into the room.
Everything stopped, laughter, talking, Race even paused one of his hands held up in the air, in the act of throwing down a card. Jack met Spot's eyes and they hardened instantly. Spot held up his hands in a placating gesture.
"I'm not here to start any trouble, Jack. I need to talk to Misery." Jack rose and circled around Spot warily, like a stray dog sniffing out an intruder. He finally stopped and stood an inch away from Spot's face. The two boys stood at a standstill for what seemed like an eternity before Jack jerked his head in my direction.
"So talk to her and get your business done. It'll be lights out soon, and some of our boys need extra rest." His barbed tone wasn't missed by Brooklyn's leader who impassively swept his gaze across the room to where Snitch, Pie Eater, and Dutchy lay abed. I was already standing at that point, my knees slightly weak, and my jaw firm as I glared at Spot.
Spot made his way towards me ignoring the glowers and muttered words as he strode through the bunk room. I glanced over at Racetrack and saw him sitting tensed a frown creasing his face. I held a hand up to him briefly, sending him a look that said I would be 'OK'. Spot took my elbow in his hand and with a lifting of his chin indicated that we should go out the window and up onto the roof to talk.
The window was already cracked, it being a nice night outside. Plus with twenty odd boys who smoked cigars and cigarettes, fresh air was a necessity. Spot yanked the sash up the rest of the way and stood aside to let me climb out first. I did so and hooked my arm and leg around the ladder and clambered up onto the rooftop. Kloppman had a rope up there and I almost smiled when I saw some laundry flapping in the breeze.
Night had come to the city, and stars were beginning to shine in the sky. I folded my arms and leaned up against the wall, waiting. Spot finally dropped down and we stood in silence, not saying anything for a few moments.
"So what do you want?" I was surprised at how acidic my tone was. Spot didn't seem troubled by it. I could see the glint of his teeth as he smiled at me. Striking a match he lit a cigarette and handed it to me. I almost threw it away but the craving for nicotine made me inhale the smoke greedily.
"I got a proposition for ya," he said. I blinked at him and was instantly curious. He coughed and spat a gob of spit onto the roof and I made a face. Boys, always making disgusting noises or producing wads of phlegm that would choke a giant.
"My boys won't let me leave you be. They've decided that until their vengeance is satisfied that they've got it out for ya. I don't think they'd kill ya, but we don't want to take the chances of anything else unpleasant happening..again." I shuddered at his meaning and curled in on myself. I felt Spot's hands on my shoulders and I turned blindly into his arms. Realizing suddenly that I was furious with him I threw his hands off of me and stepped away.
"What do you care, you let them hurt those boys because of me." Spot sighed and dropped his head a little bit.
"It wasn't that I let them, Misery. They took it into their own hands. There's only so much I can do to control such a group of boys. Sure, they look to me to lead them and make the important decisions, but Cards was one of ours. They miss him and they don't know how to deal with it. Things will die down eventually and this is where my proposition kicks in." I felt a breeze stir the ends of my unbound hair and lift them away from my shoulders. I faced Spot and raised an eyebrow at him. I didn't know if he could see that or not, but he must have taken my silence as permission to continue.
"I used to see this girl, before she moved to New Hampshire with her Aunt and Uncle. I get letters from her now and again; I guess she's really stuck on me." His tone briefly became smug and I made an impatient noise in my throat. He hurried on, taking a drag off of his cigarette.
"My idea is this, why don't you lay low for awhile. You know, take a vacation. I can telegraph this girl and see what she says, but I bet for me, she'd let you stay with them. I guess her and her Aunt run a boarding house near the ocean, really nice part of the country. I figure if you go and stay out there for awhile, things can die down here and then when all's clear and I can make my boys listen to reason, I'll send for you." I think my mouth must have been touching my knees it was open so wide.
"You want me to run away?" Spot made a frustrated sound and he grasped my shoulders firmly, shaking me slightly in the process.
"No you idiot, I want you to get out of here for your own good, that's what I want. It's perfect, don't deny that. Don't you want a chance to get out of here? See some other part of the country, try something new? That's all any of us are looking for. It's not like you couldn't come back, I wouldn't leave you there."
"I don't have any money," I said flatly turning to rest my hands on the low wall surrounding the rooftop. Spot moved to stand next to me as he chucked his cigarette down towards the sidewalk below making a sound of disappointment when he missed a man scurrying by.
"I'll help you out," he stated quietly. I snorted and would have protested further, but my heart wasn't in it. Spot had planted the seed of an idea that might just work. It would hurt me to leave these kids and especially Racetrack, but if it stopped them from getting hurt then I would have no choice. I looked over to see Spot making his way towards the ladder.
"I have to get back to Brooklyn. I'll put in the telegram tomorrow just in case, but I'll need an answer when I get a response from her. This could be the only way to stop this Misery, so please think about it."
"I will, Spot." He nodded at my words and without saying anything else disappeared down the ladder. I was up on the rooftop for a long time after he left, staring up at the stars, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and erratic thoughts. There seemed to be no other way, but what good would running away do?
"Maybe all the good in the world," I muttered as I started to make my own way back into the lodging house. Tomorrow was another day, and with it came waking up early to sell newspapers. I had a lot of thinking to do and I wouldn't be able to do it if I didn't get any sleep. Sighing, I shook my head and headed down.