Spot's Milkshake
Chapter Eight: Manhattan To The Rescue!
Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, I only own the plot, Troy and Brandie, and Brandie's parents!
"Lookie heah at wha' I found." He grinned the widest grin I had ever seen. All heads turned to me. I contemplated whether I should tell them about what happened an hour ago. Before I could decide, a question popped in my head.
"Wait a second, wha' are you guys doin' at Tibby's dis late at nigh'? I asked.
"Open ta newsies." Mush grinned.
"Da real question is, wha' are ya doin' heah?" Race piped in. He didn't look too happy to see me.
"It jus' happened. I went outside fer some fresh air, an' heah I am." I knew it didn't sound believable. They all stared at me. I drew in a deep breath, preparing to tell them.
"Dere was an attempted moidah tanight."(tonight) I paused. Some mouths fell open, and I could hear whispers.
"Give us da details Mornin' Face." Jack looked rather excited to hear them.
"I don't tell wha' I don't know." I retorted. "Boy named Troy broke through da window. Crept upstairs an' started ta choke an' suffocate anudder boy. I clubbed 'im ova da 'ead wit Spot's cane. Dat knocked 'im out fer awhile. He came to, an' well, a fight broke out, now I'm heah." There were bits and pieces I left out, but they didn't need to know all of that.
"Who was da victim?" Jack asked, smiling, hoping for a big headline, I'm sure.
"Calm down Kelly. Look, dere was nuttin Spot could do, he was jus' sleepin' an' den boom...." Jack cut me off.
"Spot Conlon?" He jumped out of his seat, yelling. "Spot Conlon, da fearless leadah o' Brooklyn? Who in dere righ' mind would try sumtink like dat? He messes with Spot, he messes wit us!" Jack strode to the door, the rest of the Manhattan newsies followed. I knew I shouldn't have told them.
"Stop! You're not supposed ta get involved!" It was no use, Jack kept walking faster every second. "Since when is Spot your best bud?" I demanded. I had no idea why I asked this question, but if they were as close as Jack perceived them, why hadn't Spot mentioned him more often. He didn't answer me. I don't even know if he heard me, I'm almost glad he didn't.
When we approached the Brooklyn Bridge, I got nervous. I didn't know how Spot would take this, I mean, almost every Manhattan newsie was coming to help with something that they shouldn't be helping with. I doubted if he really wanted everyone in the world to know about his little incident. I tugged on Jack's sleeve to get his attention.
"Don't make a big deal bout it, ok?" I pleaded with him. He looked at me, his eyes were filled with anger. I knew that this disturbed him greatly, but, but, I didn't care anymore. I would let Jack do whatever he felt it was necessary to do. With every step, we got closer to the lodging house. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Race staring at me. There was a cold stare in his eye, that I couldn't figure out.
The group of Brooklyn newsies were talking at a small wooden table. Troy was tied and gagged in the corner of the room, struggling against his bonds. Spot looked up as Jack threw open the doors.
"Well, well, well, wha's dis? A midnight snack?" Spot asked, looking Jack up and down.
"Ya call it dat. Actually, I hoid an 'SOS.' Save our Spot." Jack smirked. Spot's smiled faded into a frown. Just what I had feared, he didn't look too happy.
"Look, I don't know wheah ya hoid, and frankly I don't care, but dat's your man." Spot pointed to the corner where Troy was. "Make it good Jacky-boy." Jack focused his attention to that particular corner.
"Nice ta meet cha." He held out his hand, waiting for Troy to shake it. "Not da friendly type I see." Jack withdrew his had, pretending not to notice Troy's restraints. "I suggest you hightail it outta dis city. No. Outta all o' New York, period." Jack spat in his face. I looked over my over my shoulder at the Manhattan newsies. All seemed amused. Next, I glanced over at Spot. His eyes were filled with laughter, and his face expressed pure joy.
"Got anyting ta say fer yaself?" Jack asked. I didn't expect him to take off Troy's gag, but he did. The room was overcome with a hush as Troy spoke.
"You're dead Kelly." He struggled to free himself, but failed miserably.
"Don't talk to my friend dat way." I slapped him across the face.
"I ain't ya friend?" He asked, shocked and disappointed.
"To hell wit ya!" I shouted, retreating to Spot's side. Troy looked hurt and betrayed. Deep down I had felt sorry for him, but after what he attempted, any pity I had felt for him quickly disappeared. Troy was gagged once more, and forgotten in moments.
"I'm assuming you're stayin' heah tonight?" Spot asked Kid Blink.
"I s'pose so. Too late ta go back ain't it?" He looked out the broken window at the blackened sky. "Ya might wanna fix dat." He smiled a toothy smile.
"How do ya reckon I do dat? We barely make money now. I know it was las' summer, but dat act of stupidity dat Jacky-boy pulled off really killed us.
"Not sellin' too good huh?" Mush asked teasingly.
"I doubt dat. Nobody buys em' no more. Da headlines suck, an' dere's less an' less people dat wanna buy em'. But we get by jus' fine. Or at least we did before dat buffoon screwed it all up." He indicated towards Troy, who had given up on escaping.
"I ain't havin' dat problem. Is Conlon losin' his touch?" Jack joked.
"Neva in a million years Cowboy." Spot retorted.
I was laying on Spot's lap, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see Troy glaring at me. Out of nowhere, an idea sparked in my mind.
"Anyone wanna help me? I asked, breaking the blissful silence.
"With what?" Skittery asked me.
"Well, my stuff is over at Tabernak Cigars. I kinda need it."
"An' ya can't get it yaself?" Race asked coldly. I tried to ignore his rudeness.
"Well, ya see, me n' dem are in a disagreement. I ain't jus' gonna walk righ' in dere an' say, 'I want me stuff.' She'll wanna talk, an' I don't wanna listen to gibberish."
"I'm in. Wha' do we gotta do?" Snicker asked. I smiled my appreciation.
"Tomorrow, I jus' need someone ta distract da rents, an' me an' somebody else will get my stuff outta my room."
"I'll help too." Mush declared. "I'll distract dem."
"Fer awhile. Make sure dey don't see me n' Snicker."
"I'll go too." Racetrack spoke again. "Me n' Mush can ask da mister all bout his cigars. Den we need someone ta occupy da miss. I was thinkin' Smalls could do dat." He concluded. I hadn't even noticed that she came in. She looked startled, but agreed.
"Well, I'm gonna turn in now." Pouncher announced to the group. Everyone agreed that it was best to do so as well.
"Will ya show em' wheah dey can stay?" Itch asked me, pointing to the Manhattan newsies.
"I guess I could." I didn't exactly know where I was going to put them, but I managed to find a room that fit them. They were all swished together, but that's what they would get if they wanted to stay.
*** I couldn't sleep. Too many things were on my mind. I stood up and walked down to the clubroom. I was startled to see Spot sitting at the table.
"You ain't sleepin'?" I asked him. He turned around quickly, I must've startled him too.
"Jus' thinkin" He said quietly. "If it wasn't fer you, I'd be dead. I felt like a helpless baby. I had no idea dat he was dere. My senses gave up, leaving me vulnerable. I couldn't stop 'im. He had my arms trapped, an' he was by my head, so me legs were useless." He hung his head. "No need to feel ashamed. It's not like ya cried." My voice trailed off. His words came back to me. 'I felt like a helpless baby.' Most of my childhood flashed before me. I'm not the emotional type, but tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to push them away, but the word 'helpless' kept them there.
I did not bother to try to stop them anymore, they just kept flowing.
"Wha's da mattah?" Spot asked me, as I collapsed into the chair next to him.
"Everything. This life, this world." My voice trailed off again as a new rush of tears burst through my eyes.
"Wha's your story?" He asked suddenly. He continued to stare straight, into what I don't know.
I hesitated. I cared about him, but I didn't want to tell my past. I had never told anyone about anything that has ever happened to me. I dried my eyes, and looked at him.
"Well, it all started when I was born."
~flashback~
"Would ya just feed the brat? I'm busy tonight." My mother's sweet, yet dreaded voice echoed through the poor excuse of a house. I was tow, but she thought I had no clue what she was saying. I knew. I knew that I was a mistake. I doubted that mama and papa really liked each other.
"There's nuttin fer 'er ta 'ave!" My drunken father shouted back to my slutty mom. "'ere kid, 'ave dis." He handed me my first alcoholic beverage. Two years old, and I was holding beer in my fragile hands. He laughed as I spat it out the minute it hit my tongue.
"Wheah ya tink your goin'?" He turned to my mom. While she lied about her destination, I poured the acrid drink on the floor. Unfortunately, this saved my mom's butt.
"Look what your daughter did!" She exclaimed in her southern accent. He spun around and faced me. I watched as mother snuck out the door.
"Ya wasted it! Can anyone be more stupid? Who pours beer on the floor? A 6 month old is smarter than you!"
~end flashback~
"I was used to it." I finished. I felt the tears streaking down my face once more. I didn't dare look at Spot. Instead I continued my tale. "That wasn't the worst."
~flashback~
"I know about ya! How could cha? Don't ya care bout Brandie?" My father raged. He shoved my mother against the wall, and slapped her across the face. I cowered behind our couch. He wasn't drunk, but he was acting like it. Something had to be wrong. What could've provoked him to act this way if it wasn't beer? I heard the word 'prostitute' more than once.
"How can ya live knowing wha' you've done?" He screamed at her.
"I'm livin' jus' fine!" She yelled back. Big mistake. An instant later, there was absolute silence. "Gonna shoot me?" She taunted. I peeked out from my hiding spot. The image was forever engraved in my mind. My father was pointing his gun at my mother. Pure fear was painted on her face. I ducked away just in time. A single gun shot. A ear-splitting scream. Laughter. My father was laughing. Now at five, I already know the seriousness of murder.
"Oh Brandie. Come out heah. Daddy want ya fer jus' a minute." I stayed frozen in place. My muscles refused to move. Even if they could move, I doubted they would.
The next few moments were a blur. He ran around the house, throwing things against the wall, looking for me. For soma random quirk he didn't look behind the couch. Instead he ran into the streets yelling for me. It took me awhile to muster up the courage to come out. When I did, I stared in horror as I saw my mother, lying dead in her own blood.
She had never really showed that she loved me, but those few tender moments appeared in my mind. She had soothed me when I had a bad dream once. Once. But that meant the world to me. Another time, she seemed to care that I was burning up with a fever. She even went to buy me medicine once. She had only told me that she loved me a few times throughout my five-year-old life.
"I love you mama." I sobbed, crying over her dead body.
~end flashback~
By the time I finished, I was heaving with sobs. Spot was hugging me, whispering words of comfort.
"He's out dere den?" Spot looked me in the eye.
"As far as I know." I managed through my tears.
"Damn." I heard him mutter.
~A/N~ I hope you all liked this chapter. Please tell me if you cried during either one of the flashbacks, I did while I was writing it. The part where she said "I love you mama." That made me cry. And I wrote it. Haha! Well thanks to my reviewers, the next chapter is coming soon! PLEASE read and review Vinnie Monfredo's story! It's really good, and she deserves more reviews! GO NOW! Well wait, review this chappie first ;)
Oceanrain- Thanks sooo much for reviewing my story. I do have more then 7 reviews now! I hope you liked this story..Oh and a cookie for you since you are a new reviewer!
Tiggerbaby2430- thanks for coming back to review. Yeah, Troy is really scaring! I have some vague idea what his problem is, but I can safely say that he is NOT mental! I hope you liked this chapter!
Vinnie Monfredo- Welcome back gurlie! My original reviewer! Wonderful! When are you going to update your story? Yeah...I wouldn't say that Troy is sexy, but I do envision him as a cutie. He just has a problem with jealousy! You get the reviewer cookie this chapter!
Pyro- Thankies sooooo much for coming back! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, tell me what you think!
Chapter Eight: Manhattan To The Rescue!
Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, I only own the plot, Troy and Brandie, and Brandie's parents!
"Lookie heah at wha' I found." He grinned the widest grin I had ever seen. All heads turned to me. I contemplated whether I should tell them about what happened an hour ago. Before I could decide, a question popped in my head.
"Wait a second, wha' are you guys doin' at Tibby's dis late at nigh'? I asked.
"Open ta newsies." Mush grinned.
"Da real question is, wha' are ya doin' heah?" Race piped in. He didn't look too happy to see me.
"It jus' happened. I went outside fer some fresh air, an' heah I am." I knew it didn't sound believable. They all stared at me. I drew in a deep breath, preparing to tell them.
"Dere was an attempted moidah tanight."(tonight) I paused. Some mouths fell open, and I could hear whispers.
"Give us da details Mornin' Face." Jack looked rather excited to hear them.
"I don't tell wha' I don't know." I retorted. "Boy named Troy broke through da window. Crept upstairs an' started ta choke an' suffocate anudder boy. I clubbed 'im ova da 'ead wit Spot's cane. Dat knocked 'im out fer awhile. He came to, an' well, a fight broke out, now I'm heah." There were bits and pieces I left out, but they didn't need to know all of that.
"Who was da victim?" Jack asked, smiling, hoping for a big headline, I'm sure.
"Calm down Kelly. Look, dere was nuttin Spot could do, he was jus' sleepin' an' den boom...." Jack cut me off.
"Spot Conlon?" He jumped out of his seat, yelling. "Spot Conlon, da fearless leadah o' Brooklyn? Who in dere righ' mind would try sumtink like dat? He messes with Spot, he messes wit us!" Jack strode to the door, the rest of the Manhattan newsies followed. I knew I shouldn't have told them.
"Stop! You're not supposed ta get involved!" It was no use, Jack kept walking faster every second. "Since when is Spot your best bud?" I demanded. I had no idea why I asked this question, but if they were as close as Jack perceived them, why hadn't Spot mentioned him more often. He didn't answer me. I don't even know if he heard me, I'm almost glad he didn't.
When we approached the Brooklyn Bridge, I got nervous. I didn't know how Spot would take this, I mean, almost every Manhattan newsie was coming to help with something that they shouldn't be helping with. I doubted if he really wanted everyone in the world to know about his little incident. I tugged on Jack's sleeve to get his attention.
"Don't make a big deal bout it, ok?" I pleaded with him. He looked at me, his eyes were filled with anger. I knew that this disturbed him greatly, but, but, I didn't care anymore. I would let Jack do whatever he felt it was necessary to do. With every step, we got closer to the lodging house. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Race staring at me. There was a cold stare in his eye, that I couldn't figure out.
The group of Brooklyn newsies were talking at a small wooden table. Troy was tied and gagged in the corner of the room, struggling against his bonds. Spot looked up as Jack threw open the doors.
"Well, well, well, wha's dis? A midnight snack?" Spot asked, looking Jack up and down.
"Ya call it dat. Actually, I hoid an 'SOS.' Save our Spot." Jack smirked. Spot's smiled faded into a frown. Just what I had feared, he didn't look too happy.
"Look, I don't know wheah ya hoid, and frankly I don't care, but dat's your man." Spot pointed to the corner where Troy was. "Make it good Jacky-boy." Jack focused his attention to that particular corner.
"Nice ta meet cha." He held out his hand, waiting for Troy to shake it. "Not da friendly type I see." Jack withdrew his had, pretending not to notice Troy's restraints. "I suggest you hightail it outta dis city. No. Outta all o' New York, period." Jack spat in his face. I looked over my over my shoulder at the Manhattan newsies. All seemed amused. Next, I glanced over at Spot. His eyes were filled with laughter, and his face expressed pure joy.
"Got anyting ta say fer yaself?" Jack asked. I didn't expect him to take off Troy's gag, but he did. The room was overcome with a hush as Troy spoke.
"You're dead Kelly." He struggled to free himself, but failed miserably.
"Don't talk to my friend dat way." I slapped him across the face.
"I ain't ya friend?" He asked, shocked and disappointed.
"To hell wit ya!" I shouted, retreating to Spot's side. Troy looked hurt and betrayed. Deep down I had felt sorry for him, but after what he attempted, any pity I had felt for him quickly disappeared. Troy was gagged once more, and forgotten in moments.
"I'm assuming you're stayin' heah tonight?" Spot asked Kid Blink.
"I s'pose so. Too late ta go back ain't it?" He looked out the broken window at the blackened sky. "Ya might wanna fix dat." He smiled a toothy smile.
"How do ya reckon I do dat? We barely make money now. I know it was las' summer, but dat act of stupidity dat Jacky-boy pulled off really killed us.
"Not sellin' too good huh?" Mush asked teasingly.
"I doubt dat. Nobody buys em' no more. Da headlines suck, an' dere's less an' less people dat wanna buy em'. But we get by jus' fine. Or at least we did before dat buffoon screwed it all up." He indicated towards Troy, who had given up on escaping.
"I ain't havin' dat problem. Is Conlon losin' his touch?" Jack joked.
"Neva in a million years Cowboy." Spot retorted.
I was laying on Spot's lap, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see Troy glaring at me. Out of nowhere, an idea sparked in my mind.
"Anyone wanna help me? I asked, breaking the blissful silence.
"With what?" Skittery asked me.
"Well, my stuff is over at Tabernak Cigars. I kinda need it."
"An' ya can't get it yaself?" Race asked coldly. I tried to ignore his rudeness.
"Well, ya see, me n' dem are in a disagreement. I ain't jus' gonna walk righ' in dere an' say, 'I want me stuff.' She'll wanna talk, an' I don't wanna listen to gibberish."
"I'm in. Wha' do we gotta do?" Snicker asked. I smiled my appreciation.
"Tomorrow, I jus' need someone ta distract da rents, an' me an' somebody else will get my stuff outta my room."
"I'll help too." Mush declared. "I'll distract dem."
"Fer awhile. Make sure dey don't see me n' Snicker."
"I'll go too." Racetrack spoke again. "Me n' Mush can ask da mister all bout his cigars. Den we need someone ta occupy da miss. I was thinkin' Smalls could do dat." He concluded. I hadn't even noticed that she came in. She looked startled, but agreed.
"Well, I'm gonna turn in now." Pouncher announced to the group. Everyone agreed that it was best to do so as well.
"Will ya show em' wheah dey can stay?" Itch asked me, pointing to the Manhattan newsies.
"I guess I could." I didn't exactly know where I was going to put them, but I managed to find a room that fit them. They were all swished together, but that's what they would get if they wanted to stay.
*** I couldn't sleep. Too many things were on my mind. I stood up and walked down to the clubroom. I was startled to see Spot sitting at the table.
"You ain't sleepin'?" I asked him. He turned around quickly, I must've startled him too.
"Jus' thinkin" He said quietly. "If it wasn't fer you, I'd be dead. I felt like a helpless baby. I had no idea dat he was dere. My senses gave up, leaving me vulnerable. I couldn't stop 'im. He had my arms trapped, an' he was by my head, so me legs were useless." He hung his head. "No need to feel ashamed. It's not like ya cried." My voice trailed off. His words came back to me. 'I felt like a helpless baby.' Most of my childhood flashed before me. I'm not the emotional type, but tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to push them away, but the word 'helpless' kept them there.
I did not bother to try to stop them anymore, they just kept flowing.
"Wha's da mattah?" Spot asked me, as I collapsed into the chair next to him.
"Everything. This life, this world." My voice trailed off again as a new rush of tears burst through my eyes.
"Wha's your story?" He asked suddenly. He continued to stare straight, into what I don't know.
I hesitated. I cared about him, but I didn't want to tell my past. I had never told anyone about anything that has ever happened to me. I dried my eyes, and looked at him.
"Well, it all started when I was born."
~flashback~
"Would ya just feed the brat? I'm busy tonight." My mother's sweet, yet dreaded voice echoed through the poor excuse of a house. I was tow, but she thought I had no clue what she was saying. I knew. I knew that I was a mistake. I doubted that mama and papa really liked each other.
"There's nuttin fer 'er ta 'ave!" My drunken father shouted back to my slutty mom. "'ere kid, 'ave dis." He handed me my first alcoholic beverage. Two years old, and I was holding beer in my fragile hands. He laughed as I spat it out the minute it hit my tongue.
"Wheah ya tink your goin'?" He turned to my mom. While she lied about her destination, I poured the acrid drink on the floor. Unfortunately, this saved my mom's butt.
"Look what your daughter did!" She exclaimed in her southern accent. He spun around and faced me. I watched as mother snuck out the door.
"Ya wasted it! Can anyone be more stupid? Who pours beer on the floor? A 6 month old is smarter than you!"
~end flashback~
"I was used to it." I finished. I felt the tears streaking down my face once more. I didn't dare look at Spot. Instead I continued my tale. "That wasn't the worst."
~flashback~
"I know about ya! How could cha? Don't ya care bout Brandie?" My father raged. He shoved my mother against the wall, and slapped her across the face. I cowered behind our couch. He wasn't drunk, but he was acting like it. Something had to be wrong. What could've provoked him to act this way if it wasn't beer? I heard the word 'prostitute' more than once.
"How can ya live knowing wha' you've done?" He screamed at her.
"I'm livin' jus' fine!" She yelled back. Big mistake. An instant later, there was absolute silence. "Gonna shoot me?" She taunted. I peeked out from my hiding spot. The image was forever engraved in my mind. My father was pointing his gun at my mother. Pure fear was painted on her face. I ducked away just in time. A single gun shot. A ear-splitting scream. Laughter. My father was laughing. Now at five, I already know the seriousness of murder.
"Oh Brandie. Come out heah. Daddy want ya fer jus' a minute." I stayed frozen in place. My muscles refused to move. Even if they could move, I doubted they would.
The next few moments were a blur. He ran around the house, throwing things against the wall, looking for me. For soma random quirk he didn't look behind the couch. Instead he ran into the streets yelling for me. It took me awhile to muster up the courage to come out. When I did, I stared in horror as I saw my mother, lying dead in her own blood.
She had never really showed that she loved me, but those few tender moments appeared in my mind. She had soothed me when I had a bad dream once. Once. But that meant the world to me. Another time, she seemed to care that I was burning up with a fever. She even went to buy me medicine once. She had only told me that she loved me a few times throughout my five-year-old life.
"I love you mama." I sobbed, crying over her dead body.
~end flashback~
By the time I finished, I was heaving with sobs. Spot was hugging me, whispering words of comfort.
"He's out dere den?" Spot looked me in the eye.
"As far as I know." I managed through my tears.
"Damn." I heard him mutter.
~A/N~ I hope you all liked this chapter. Please tell me if you cried during either one of the flashbacks, I did while I was writing it. The part where she said "I love you mama." That made me cry. And I wrote it. Haha! Well thanks to my reviewers, the next chapter is coming soon! PLEASE read and review Vinnie Monfredo's story! It's really good, and she deserves more reviews! GO NOW! Well wait, review this chappie first ;)
Oceanrain- Thanks sooo much for reviewing my story. I do have more then 7 reviews now! I hope you liked this story..Oh and a cookie for you since you are a new reviewer!
Tiggerbaby2430- thanks for coming back to review. Yeah, Troy is really scaring! I have some vague idea what his problem is, but I can safely say that he is NOT mental! I hope you liked this chapter!
Vinnie Monfredo- Welcome back gurlie! My original reviewer! Wonderful! When are you going to update your story? Yeah...I wouldn't say that Troy is sexy, but I do envision him as a cutie. He just has a problem with jealousy! You get the reviewer cookie this chapter!
Pyro- Thankies sooooo much for coming back! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, tell me what you think!