"I gotta warn ya," Spot said, stopping just outside the Duane Street
lodging house. "Jack runs Manhattan a bit differently than Brooklyn."
"How so?" she asked, momentarily nervous about going in.
"You'll see." He winked before pulling her inside.
As soon as they were inside, Ingrid understood Spot's warning. They stood unnoticed near the door, watching the group joke and dance to the music from a small Italian boy playing the harmonica in the corner. Spot was right; things were definitely different in Manhattan. The air of seriousness that hung over Brooklyn didn't exist here. While a few of the boys were well built, most seemed smaller and weaker than the newsies that she was accustomed to. Ingrid immediately felt at ease among them.
The harmonica suddenly stopped and the Italian called across the room. "Ey Jack, Brooklyn's here!"
Jack and Pokey sat in the corner, holding a hushed conversation, the only somber members of the group. Jack's head shot up, and he smiled when he saw the couple standing in the doorway.
"Spot, where ya been?" Pokey reprimanded. "I was beginnin to think that Striker'd gotten the best of ya."
"You know better than that, Pokey. We just had to make a little stop on our way over."
"This beautiful lady must be Ingrid," Jack said, eyeing her as he crossed the room. "Jack Kelley at your service."
Spot shook his head, snaking an arm around Ingrid's waist. For a moment, he began to reconsider his decision to leave Ingrid with Jack. He was a womanizer, make no mistake, but he trusted him. "Watch yourself, boyo."
Jack laughed. "Just checking, Conlon. Come on, Gunnar's asleep upstairs."
A few stray newsies lazed around the bunkroom, eyeing the group curiously as they entered. Ingrid breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Gunnar sleeping peacefully on a bunk in the corner. She moved across the room, taking a seat on the bunk beside his sleeping form. Jack cleared the other boys out of the room.
Spot pulled Pokey aside. "Get yourself back to Brooklyn, boyo. I need ya to watch over the boys. You get them goin in the morning. No one goes out alone, sell in pairs."
"You got it, Spot."
"Pokey." Spot pulled him closer. "You know what to do if you see Striker?"
"We've got it covered." Pokey nodded and headed for the stairs.
"Be careful, Pokey."
Spot hung his head, nervous for Pokey's journey back to Brooklyn. Jack's hand settled on his shoulder and Spot sighed. "Don't say it Jacky Boy."
"Say what?" Jack asked innocently.
Spot looked him in the eye. "I told you so?"
"I wasn't sayin a word," Jack replied with a smirk.
They stood in silence for a moment, watching Ingrid running a hand over Gunnar's hair.
"I saw Stella today," Spot said softly. "I finally found her."
"Good for you, Spot. It's about time."
"Jack, I'm thinking about leaving."
Jack furrowed his brow in confusion. "You heading back to Brooklyn?"
"Not leaving here," Spot said with a smile, returning his eyes to Jack's. "Leavin the newsies."
Jack stared at him incredulously. "You're kiddin, right? How can you give this up?"
"Jack, I'm nineteen and I have a daughter to be concerned with." He took a deep breath. "They're never gonna let me keep Stella as long as I'm livin this way."
"Who ya gonna leave in charge?"
Spot smirked. "I was thinking Pokey, though with all the time that he spends with your boys, there's a good chance Brooklyn'll turn into a madhouse like this place."
"Watch yourself, Conlon. You ain't in Brooklyn right now," Jack teased, pleased to see the softer side of Spot reemerging after years of somber coolness. "When ya leavin?"
"Leaving?"
Spot spun around to find Ingrid standing directly behind him, her eyes narrowed in confusion.
"Why don't you two talk? I'll be waiting downstairs." Jack tipped his hat and disappeared down the stairs.
"You're leaving?" Ingrid asked again when they were alone.
"No," he said quickly, but shook his head. "Well, yes, but-"
"Which is it, yes or no?"
Spot took her hands in his and led her to an empty bunk. "I am not going anywhere."
"But you just told Jack-"
"I am leaving the newsies... So that I can get Stella back."
Ingrid smiled and leaned up to kiss him lightly. Spot caught her lips, pulling him into a deeper kiss. The softness of her lips on his made him melt. She began to lean closer to him, but he pulled back slightly.
"I'm not goin anywhere," he repeated. "I love you."
"How so?" she asked, momentarily nervous about going in.
"You'll see." He winked before pulling her inside.
As soon as they were inside, Ingrid understood Spot's warning. They stood unnoticed near the door, watching the group joke and dance to the music from a small Italian boy playing the harmonica in the corner. Spot was right; things were definitely different in Manhattan. The air of seriousness that hung over Brooklyn didn't exist here. While a few of the boys were well built, most seemed smaller and weaker than the newsies that she was accustomed to. Ingrid immediately felt at ease among them.
The harmonica suddenly stopped and the Italian called across the room. "Ey Jack, Brooklyn's here!"
Jack and Pokey sat in the corner, holding a hushed conversation, the only somber members of the group. Jack's head shot up, and he smiled when he saw the couple standing in the doorway.
"Spot, where ya been?" Pokey reprimanded. "I was beginnin to think that Striker'd gotten the best of ya."
"You know better than that, Pokey. We just had to make a little stop on our way over."
"This beautiful lady must be Ingrid," Jack said, eyeing her as he crossed the room. "Jack Kelley at your service."
Spot shook his head, snaking an arm around Ingrid's waist. For a moment, he began to reconsider his decision to leave Ingrid with Jack. He was a womanizer, make no mistake, but he trusted him. "Watch yourself, boyo."
Jack laughed. "Just checking, Conlon. Come on, Gunnar's asleep upstairs."
A few stray newsies lazed around the bunkroom, eyeing the group curiously as they entered. Ingrid breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Gunnar sleeping peacefully on a bunk in the corner. She moved across the room, taking a seat on the bunk beside his sleeping form. Jack cleared the other boys out of the room.
Spot pulled Pokey aside. "Get yourself back to Brooklyn, boyo. I need ya to watch over the boys. You get them goin in the morning. No one goes out alone, sell in pairs."
"You got it, Spot."
"Pokey." Spot pulled him closer. "You know what to do if you see Striker?"
"We've got it covered." Pokey nodded and headed for the stairs.
"Be careful, Pokey."
Spot hung his head, nervous for Pokey's journey back to Brooklyn. Jack's hand settled on his shoulder and Spot sighed. "Don't say it Jacky Boy."
"Say what?" Jack asked innocently.
Spot looked him in the eye. "I told you so?"
"I wasn't sayin a word," Jack replied with a smirk.
They stood in silence for a moment, watching Ingrid running a hand over Gunnar's hair.
"I saw Stella today," Spot said softly. "I finally found her."
"Good for you, Spot. It's about time."
"Jack, I'm thinking about leaving."
Jack furrowed his brow in confusion. "You heading back to Brooklyn?"
"Not leaving here," Spot said with a smile, returning his eyes to Jack's. "Leavin the newsies."
Jack stared at him incredulously. "You're kiddin, right? How can you give this up?"
"Jack, I'm nineteen and I have a daughter to be concerned with." He took a deep breath. "They're never gonna let me keep Stella as long as I'm livin this way."
"Who ya gonna leave in charge?"
Spot smirked. "I was thinking Pokey, though with all the time that he spends with your boys, there's a good chance Brooklyn'll turn into a madhouse like this place."
"Watch yourself, Conlon. You ain't in Brooklyn right now," Jack teased, pleased to see the softer side of Spot reemerging after years of somber coolness. "When ya leavin?"
"Leaving?"
Spot spun around to find Ingrid standing directly behind him, her eyes narrowed in confusion.
"Why don't you two talk? I'll be waiting downstairs." Jack tipped his hat and disappeared down the stairs.
"You're leaving?" Ingrid asked again when they were alone.
"No," he said quickly, but shook his head. "Well, yes, but-"
"Which is it, yes or no?"
Spot took her hands in his and led her to an empty bunk. "I am not going anywhere."
"But you just told Jack-"
"I am leaving the newsies... So that I can get Stella back."
Ingrid smiled and leaned up to kiss him lightly. Spot caught her lips, pulling him into a deeper kiss. The softness of her lips on his made him melt. She began to lean closer to him, but he pulled back slightly.
"I'm not goin anywhere," he repeated. "I love you."