Megan irritably tossed a shirt into a washtub full of dirty sudsy water and wrung it out violently. A smile curved her lips upwards slightly as she imagined that she was choking that vile Conlon boy. Gathering up an armload of sodden clothing, she hefted it out the back door into the narrow yard where she had strung up the rest of the clothing on a clothesline.
Conlon had shown up with two of his henchmen and her grandmother had sent her into the kitchen to begin the wash while she talked to the boys. Muttering underneath her breath, she heard a sudden yowl and looked down to see that she had stepped on the tail of a tiny kitten. Dropping the clothes into a basket underneath the line, she gathered the bundle of fur up into her hands and stroked it softly.
"I'm sorry baby, don't cry, I didn't mean to." The kitten mewed piteously and Megan felt a tug at her heartstrings as she used a dirty finger to nudge around the kitten's ears and nose. It was a ball of gray fluff that matched her eyes, with a blaze of white on its chest. Its eyes were a deep green and it kneaded her hand while setting up a rumbling purr that was rather loud for such a small package.
Megan gave a true smile this time, her face softening as she cradled the baby cat to her chest and cooed to it. A faint cough and chuckle brought her head snapping around, and she held the kitten firmly to her chest as her eyes met Spot Conlon's. He stood leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his sallow face.
Most of the street kids were covered in such a layer of grime that they all looked pale and had a yellowish tinge to their skin from soot and factory air. Spot, like most of the newsies had skin more tan in color than any of the other children in their various occupations; he was one of the lucky and unlucky few who spent his days outside.
"What are you looking at?" Megan snapped, tensing. Spot shrugged, before lighting a cigarette and motioning towards the kitten.
"I didn't think you had it in you, y'know to be nice to anything." Megan sneered, and would have put the kitten down if it hadn't attached itself firmly to the front of her dress, cradled in the crook of her arm. She looked down at it, and it blinked up at her almost trustingly. Megan decided right then and there to keep it.
"Well I can, not that it should make a difference to you." Megan's face flushed when he laughed; smoke trailing out of his mouth and nose. His blue eyes were brilliant in his smudged face and he had such a cocky, sure way about him.
"What'd I ever do to you? As far as I can recall, all I did was save you from some bastard that was beatin' up on ya." Megan rolled her eyes and snorted. Trevor had been one of the least violent out of any of her pimps. Streetwalking was a vile profession; she hated it with all her heart. Honestly she never would have started if she hadn't been taken under the wing of her friend Joanna Shaw who had managed to convince her that it was where the easy money was to be found. Beguiled by Joanna and her lover/pimp Morgan Ripley and all the money that Joanna made, she failed to notice that Joanna had been in the game long enough to have risen to the status of a 'consort'. Her job was to look pretty on the arms of wealthy men and she had the choice at this point in time how her nights with the gentlemen went.
It took a long time and a lot of hard work to get to Joanna's stage. Megan worked for a madam out of Harlem who owned a nightclub. They called her Gypsy Anne, or just Gypsy but Megan knew her as Annabelle Winters. Trevor worked for Gypsy and had complained about getting beaten up although he had changed his version of the story to include at least two-score men all armed with clubs. Megan hadn't been assigned another personal 'body guard' to ensure her safety and that she didn't take home any extra money. In truth, Megan would have leapt for the chance to do something else but she was deeply indebted to the Gypsy for various reasons mainly money wise.
The Gypsy had also provided doctors when Megan's grandmother turned ill, and made sure that the old woman's apartment was paid for if Megan didn't make the money. It was all part of the trade, to ensure that Megan relied on the Gypsy's kindness and charity so that she wouldn't think of turning anywhere else. Fear played a large part of it as well. Megan shuddered as she recalled a time she had tried to leave New York City and being met at the train station by two of Gypsy's men. They hadn't been kind with her and she still tended to limp sometimes when the weather turned suddenly.
Fingers snapping in front of her face brought her out of her thoughts. Glowering up at Spot, she set the kitten gently down, after rubbing its head one more time. The kitten chirped at her briefly before curling up in a patch of sunlight by her feet as she began hanging the wet laundry, snapping it out and then clipping it to the clothesline. Spot sat on a crate, putting his feet straight out in front of himself, watching Megan as she worked studiously, humming a faint tune to herself.
Megan was rather bothered by the fact that this annoying boy was sitting out there with her, watching her. She hated to be watched. Honestly, she had been grateful when he had hurt Trevor for hurting her, but it hadn't been any of his damn business. Gypsy had docked her pay for the doctor's bills to make sure Trevor hadn't been injured seriously and she wasn't grateful for THAT.
"Oh Megan, I didn't mean for you to do ALL of the laundry yourself." Megan looked over to the doorway, clothes pins sticking out of her mouth to see her grandmother leaning against the doorjamb as if for support, the sunlight making her face seem even more wrinkled and worn that it was. Megan frowned for as much as she resented her grandmother for making her do such work; she loved her dearly and didn't want her getting ill again.
"Don't worry Gram, it was nothing. I don't know why these hooligans don't find someone younger to do their chores for them, or learn how themselves." Spot's eyes crinkled slightly and she realized that the kitten had ambled lazily over and leapt up onto his lap, settling itself with a contented yawn.
"Seems like I just did find someone younger." Megan growled in her throat and threw a clothespin at him, which bounced harmlessly off of his forehead but made his eyes snap suddenly in anger. Megan was taken aback to see the instant change, and her eyes widened fearfully. Spot noticed the fear and took a calming breath.
"Relax," he growled gruffly. He was making headway with the difficult girl the last thing he needed was her to tuck tail and run. He had no respect for women who sold their bodies for money. His mother had worked in a factory as had his aunts. He cocked a thoughtful eyebrow and cast his thoughts back towards whomever it was who was following him around. Could it be one of his aunts? He had forgotten about them, in truth they had moved to New Jersey and he had had no desire to live there when his grandmother died.
Megan's grandmother disappeared back into the kitchen muttering something about soup, and Pigeon and Lynch appeared. Pigeon, named for the way his toes turned slightly in giving him an odd gait to his walk, smirked and leered at the sight of Megan. Megan flushed and turned her head away, hiding her face in the curtain of her brown hair. Pigeon was a regular at the brothel she worked at, and although she had never had the 'pleasure' he knew her face well. Spot noticed her discomfort and his lips thinned, brows drawing down.
"We're going to head back
boss," Lynch said lighting a cigar. Spot nodded absently and they left, after
Pigeon blew a kiss in Megan's direction and made an obscene gesture. Megan
finished hanging up the sodden clothing and stood stiffly, arms clasped around
her middle, head hung.
"If you don't like it why do you do it?" Spot's quiet question made her head jerk up and he was taken aback to see tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.
"You think it's so easy to get a job don't you, your Majesty? The 'King of Brooklyn';" she scoffed heatedly.
"I tried to get jobs, nobody would hire me. Said I didn't have enough experience or they could hire someone to do it cheaper. So my friend told me about a woman who could help me, all I'd have to do is lay on my back a few times a night. Easy right?" Spot didn't wince at her crudeness. He was paying more attention to the shaking sound of her voice. She was going to lose her cool, and lose it rather fast.
'I don't know if you've looked around you lately and actually SEEN some of the people who live in Brooklyn but we don't have it easy. And us newsies don't have it any easier than you do by a long shot. I got where I am from scratching my way to the top and making numerous enemies along the way. Don't presume that I've had an easy life until you know me."
Megan's eyes were red-rimmed and she snorted rather unbecomingly, twisting a shank of her hair and shoving it behind one of her ears. Sniffing loudly, she wiped her nose on her sleeve and gave him a sullen look. Spot decided that he had had enough and setting the kitten onto the ground, he rose and stretched.
"I'll be back tomorrow to get those clothes from you. Thank you for doing them, I know it ain't fun." Megan snorted again and looked away. Spot didn't often thank people, and for some odd reason it seemed Megan sensed this for she quirked the corner of her mouth up into a tiny smile of acknowledgement. Spot was blown away by the difference in her features that the tiny gesture made.
Spot shook his head and muttered something about 'crazy broads' before leaving. Honestly after all the trouble he had had with Misery he just didn't relish any other difficult female characters in his life. Not that he regretted Misery in the slightest. He would do it all over again and lose her just to have had a chance to know her. A sudden resolve made him turn down a street towards the tenement where he knew Racetrack and Misery lived. It was time to get over this nonsense and be able to have them both in his life again. He didn't have many that he actually called a friend and it took a toll on him. He needed to keep as many of those people as he had close by.
As he strolled down the sidewalk, twirling his cane, he once again got the feeling that someone was following him. He ignored it this time, waiting for the right moment. He felt someone brush past him, fingers slipping into one of his pockets. He struck like a viper, grabbing their hand and throwing them up against a wall right inside a nearby alleyway.
At first glance he thought he held a girl up against the bricks, the features were so fine. But the short figure was definitely a boy and there was no long hair tucked up underneath the cap he wore askew. Spot was slightly taken aback to see his eyes glaring up at him and the coolness of his smirk directed at him from a stranger's face.
"Who are you?" he rasped out gruffly. The boy struggled then collapsed back against the wall in sullen silence. Spot shook him harder, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the front of the boy's threadbare brown shirt.
"Why are you following me? Do you know who I am?" At this the boy snorted and Spot knew that the boy had an idea of who he was. They started at each other for what seemed like forever before Spot let the boy go. The boy darted off, but not before Spot told him in a menacing voice that this was far from over.
In a slight daze, he continued his walk towards Misery and Race's place his mind in a whirl. Who was that boy? Why did he look alarmingly like he could be Spot's younger brother? Spot shook his head and felt an unsettling weight rest on his shoulders. He didn't like surprises. And he'd be damned if he didn't find out what this was all about. And he vowed he'd do it soon.
Shout Outs!
Smiley Cad – Nah, Riddle can go to bars, Bourbon trusts him. He only has eyes for her. But yes he shouldn't drink so much. I don't like Megan's job either but that's part of the story. Neither her or Spot like it either. I'd definitely be paranoid if someone was following me around, but Spot will solve it.
Spot: Yah darn tootin' I will. ::crosses arms and nods::
Now now Spot it's not nice to want to be up Smiley.
Spot: ::hangs head::
Yeah I wanted to use old characters in this story and others because I liked some of them so much.
Nada Zimri – Yes Monkey is adorable. He's fashioned after a little boy I used to know who reminded me of a monkey and was hysterical with laughter every time I tried to put him into trash cans. Yep that spit was description was meant to be gross. ::wink::
Just Duck – Yes I agree I figured Race was a better fit with Misery too. I've been wicked busy too hence why it took me so long to update this. Fonzie is an awesome name for a dog.
That cracked me the hell up…envisioning Spot doing the Tim Taylor laugh in his head at Millie's news. ::snicker:: I don't mind doing laundry but there's other chores I definitely curse doing. And yeah I know I had him falling asleep to end chapters a bit too much.. :X
Iaintgottaname – Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you liked it, thank again.
The Girl That Never Was – Hahaha…yeah I know I had Spot falling asleep a tad too much. ;D
Emotions – Ewww homework sucks. Don't worry I'd just be happy if you reviewed my story at all, doesn't matter how often. You could be right about the love interest….
Spot: ::perks up:: I get a lady?
Oh lord…
Kays14 – Honestly it was rather hard for me to decide who Misery should end up, which is probably why that story was so long! In the beginning I had initially had her going to end up with Spot, but then partway through I began making her compatible with Racetrack as well. Trust me it was a bit of a dilemma.
Jamie Bell – Hah I'm intrigued as how it's going to work out too. I plan on having it start to move along, I'm afraid this is another filler chapter. Curse me straight to hell. :D