A/N: These characters belong to Disney© Incorporate. (I wish I owned Spot! ) Please do not plagiarize! I do not own any of the characters except for West/Kate Turner, Blue/Aaron Turner, Crest, Snaps/Chris Turner, Trey Turner, Helena Turner, Heath Conlon, Joel Conlon, Tina Conlon, Joel/Spot's mother, Kinks, Leg, Morey, Paw, Spinner, South, Ready, Quickie, and Tinge, Mel's Diner, and Kennedy Shefford/Stripes, Isabel Cabrera/Demure.
Thank you: Thanks to Mister B. who made us watch this movie in music class. Thanks to my family, friends, and many others for supporting me. Thanks to Gabriel Damon for being so darn good looking and for inspiring me to write about this character. Thanks to everyone. Please give me feedback! Also thanks to "Stripes" and "Demure" for letting me use them in my story!
Chapter 7
Spot Conlon spent the next two days sulking in his bedroom at the Brooklyn Newsboys Lodging House. It was Christmas Eve and half of his newsies had left him for Battery, Manhattan, or the other neighboring boroughs-Even his best friend, Snaps Turner, who was West's older brother. Tribeca and Lower East Side were also starting to doubt Spot's reliance and many of their own moved as well.
Spot yawned and stretched his arms over his head.Spot ran a hand through his light brown hair and yawned. He crept stealthily out of bed so he wouldn't wake his girlfriend, Stripes Shefford, and pulled on his suspenders and quickly washed up in the bathroom. He finished getting dressed and put his finishing touches on; his new slingshot from his birthday, a gold-topped wooden cane, and his cap. He looked himself in the mirror and frowned. He always thought he looked intimidating, but he seemed vulnerable nowadays. Spot shrugged it off, staring into his own fierce blue eyes.
Spot finally came out and saw Red, the Lodging House's keeper, staring at him through gray old eyes and steel-rimmed glasses while he was keeping the warm fireplace going.
"'Bout time, Spot," he growled. Red's glasses were on the tip of his nose and his gray grizzly hair was all over. He had come to enjoy the rough, rowdy Brooklyn newsies. Everyone knew them as the tough street kids they were, but Red knew a whole different side of the family-torn, abused, and hurt children. They were loveable and very honest. They only did the things they did to show they held the power. He also knew the burden and pressure of being Brooklyn's leader and pitied Spot's rough situation and circumstances. The first time Red saw West Turner, he knew that she and Spot were meant to be together. "I would've left by now if I didn't own dis joint." Spot glared in return and stalked to the lobby. There, Dante, the Tribeca leader, and Lucio, the Lower Eat Side leader, stood conversing silently. When Spot entered the room, the two looked up and smiled at him - not a nice kind of smile, but a wicked smile. Their smiles contradicted the friendly glittering decorations Spot had allowed to be put up this year. The younger children had begged and begged until he gave in. The blue ornaments on their small tree reminded him of West's eyes. Two boys had also said that, making him think about it every time he passed the ornaments or under the mistletoe.
"Mornin' Spot. I'm shoah ya slept well?" Dante asked. His long black hair shadowed his chocolate eyes and face as he spoke, making him look almost sinister against his tan skin. Dante had come from South America with his brother, now known as Bumlets, when they were children. Dante abandoned his brother at the age of six and Bumlets had ended up in Manhattan's Lodging House and the two no longer acknowledged each other.
"Actually, Dante, I didn't sleep," Spot replied spit-shaking with the leader and faking a laugh to be in good graces.
"You thought dis through den, I suppose?" Lucio asked, shaking hands as well. Lucio, the exact opposite in looks of Dante, was cruel and second most reputable from Spot. He had come from Italy and had been Spot's close friend for a while before there was an issue of trust that came between them. Lucio came from a well-bred family, but rebelled and was left in New York to fend for himself. He had sharp, fine, aristocratic features along with pale skin. Lucio's white-blonde hair was short and left him looking almost nobleman-like. Both leaders were very well built and known for their brutality, savageness, and fierce strategy in gang warfare. Most of their newsies were the same way too; a lot of Spot's boys had come from Tribeca or the Lower East Side, but had become tired of Dante and Lucio's ways.
"Yes, I've thought 'bout it. Listen, dis isnt' such a good idea, Lucio," Spot reasoned. He didn't want to have to see his best friends and love of his life suffer He didn't show it, but the last thing he wanted to do was get in a gang war against Manhattan and its allies. Most all boroughs were frightened of Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Bronx, but with Bronx and Manhattan on one side, the odds were two against one. Tribeca and Lower East Side knew Brooklyn was powerful, but not as much with Manhattan on the other side. Dante and Lucio saw this as a chance to claim Brooklyn.
"Youse tryin ta back out on dis, Conlon?" Dante seethed.
"I ain't backin' outta anythin', boys. Ise just don't wanna git involved in a war, dat's all." The two had heard of the Queens' leader's plan to overthrow Spot and planned to make it there before he did.
"We kin git Jimmy from Queens ta help out," Lucio suggested. Spot looked at him unbelievably.
"Seriously? Are ya tryin' ta git my goil killed? Jimmy's aftah Stripes!" he exclaimed.
"Calm down, Spot. Maybe we can git the two ta talk things out. We're gonna need all de help we kin git." Spot nodded in defeat while Red went upstairs to wake up the remaining Newsies. Stripes was the first to come down, ready for another cold day.
"'Mornin', Spot, Lucio, Dante," she said cheerily while pouring them all a mug of fresh coffee. "What's new?" she asked, kissing Spot on the cheek before sitting next to him on the tattered couch.
"We need ya ta talk it out wit Jimmy," Lucio replied, sipping his drink carefully, waiting to gage Stripe's reaction.
"What? Spot! Jimmy would've expected me ta ovah rule ya by now! What should I say?" Stripes cried, putting her face in her hands, pretending to be distraught. In reality, she was hiding her large grin that threatened to expose her double bluff. She had told Spot a month before that Jimmy had forced her to come to Brooklyn to take over. That built up his trust in her. Then she had told him that she had known his sister, Tina. That made him envy her, wanting to know everything about her. It drove West insane, and Stripes knew it. It was just as she planned. Of course, after 'talking it out with Jimmy' she would, indeed, take over Brooklyn- for Jimmy. Stripes thought it would be no sweat. But something changed her in the little time period – it had actually happened when she first arrived, frozen in the snow. Stripes had heard his voice call out to her. The voice belonged to Jack Kelly. The warmth that radiated from him was one she had never known, and she had liked it. The deceitful brunette had felt it everywhere she went with the Brooklyn and Manhattan Newsies and it had changed her. She found it more difficult everyday to betray these people. She had never felt 'the warmth' from Jimmy, who had told her that he loved her, and she definitely didn't feel it from Spot. Stripes knew that Spot was only going out with her because he wanted to make West jealous. And West was only going out with Jack because she knew it would make Spot jealous. It's for Jimmy, she convinced herself. Jimmy loves me and I'm doing this for Jimmy! The mantra she had used over and over again repeatedly the past few weeks was not going to fail her now. Stripes looked back up at her boyfriend who seemed to sincerely care about her.
"You'll be okay," he said looking into her amber eyes. "Just lie ta him. Tell him ya have me wrapped around your lil' fingah!" he said laughing, trying valiantly to cheer her.
"Okay," she grinned meekly.
"Atta girl!" Dante said, patting her soundly on the back. "Lemme send out a runnah." Dante waved over one of the Brooklyn twins and asked him to do a favor. Most of the younger newsies stayed because they didn't understand what was happening and believe that everyone who had left was on a 'break'. "Hey kid, will ya do me a favah?"
"Shoah, and my name is Ace, not kid." Ace and his twin brother, Spades, were very close with West. They had missed the big Poker Night incident and were worried about her.
"Run out ta Queens and tell Jimmy dat me, Lucio, and Spot wanna see him tomorrow, noon." Ace looked at Spot tentatively.
"Go ta Queens? On me own?" he asked. Lucio looked at Spot disapprovingly.
"Don't ya teach your Newsies anything?" he snapped. Spot snarled and stood up.
"Don't evah tell me how ta raise me Newsies, got it?" Spot growled at the Lower East Side leader. Lucio's face was painted with surprise and terror. "Get Tinge ta go wit ya, Ace." Spot said gently to the ten-year-old who went to get the curly red head in the corner. Tinge nodded as he passed the three and left. "Stop tellin' me how ta run my boys. It's almost like youse tryin' ta take ovah," Spot said carelessly and sarcastically with a chuckle, but the others knew better. Spot would rather die than give up his territory. "Stripes will show ya out, boys. I'll talk ta ya latah." Spot waved and smirked and headed up the stairs. Once he was out of hearing distance, Stripes glared.
"What are ya two tryin' ta pull? If ya think youse is gonna git Brooklyn befoah Queens, den youse is wrong," she said. "Jimmy claimed it befoah youse did, so ya bettah back off!" As they stepped outside into the snow, now becoming slush, Stripes stared them in the eye and brushed her light brown hair out of her face before continuing. "Have a good day, gentlemen," she said huffily and then slammed the door.
While Spot moped, so did West Turner. Almost coincided with Spot's actions. West groaned and stretched her arms above her head. She felt some one rustle behind her and she was surprised to find Jack Kelly with his arm resting on her waist. West mulled for a moment and couldn't remember him being there before. Then she remembered she was crying and he had come in and had just held her in his arms. When she had breathed in, she inhaled Manhattan's scent and felt a pang of homesickness wash over her. She missed Spot and she had caused all this tension between the boroughs. Jack had told her that a gang war might happen and that she'd be safe there in Manhattan.
"Jack?" she poked him gently. She smiled at his consideration for her respect; he had slept on top of the covers and had not changed from his day clothes. "Jack?" she whispered into her ear. Checking the time on the big clock hanging on the wall, it was twenty minutes before Kloppman came upstairs to wake up the newsies. When Jack didn't respond, she got out of bed, careful not to wake him, and tiptoed into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and washed her face. West finished drying off her face and didn't hear her good friend, Racetrack, come in. She was about to pile her hair up on top of her head in a stylish bun when she saw the short Italian standing in the doorway.
"Ya look exhausted," he said concerned. West looked back in the mirror and noticed differences. Her vibrant blue eyes were now duller, she had dark circles under her eyes, and her face seemed more sallow than she remembered it being. West blinked unbelievingly at herself in the mirror. She had no idea what a toll this had taken on her physically and emotionally.
"Nah, jus' didn't sleep well last night," she replied, denying the fact that she hadn't slept well the past weeks either.
"Ya wanna go wit me ta grab a bite before we sell some papes?" Race asked her gently.
"Shoah, be right down," she said. Race walked down the stairs to get his coat and West looked at her self once more in the mirror. She walked out of the bathroom, kissed Jack on the forehead and met Race in the lobby for her own jacket.
"Ready?" Race said, lighting up a newly stolen cigar.
"Yep… As ready as I'll evah be."
They walked down the street talking about themselves and what they would do if they had a lot of money. "A permanent box at Sheepshead Races," Race said dreamily, puffing on his cigar. West laughed at his idea.
"Really? Outta everythin' you could possibly buy, you'd wanna permanent box at da races?" Race nodded enthusiastically.
"Oh, yeah, definitely. It's like, when youse out at da tracks, you don't gotta care about what othah people think o' you, ya just gotta focus on your goal- which horse is gonna win. Ya place your faith and money on one horse that stands out of da ordinary and ya stick wid it, no mattah what da outcome is, 'cause ya know: if dere are losses, dere's gotta be some wins, and this one has gotta be it, ya know?" Race paused to let his words sink in. "Once you find that right horse, ya gotta place dat bet before anythin' happens that ya might regret." West thought over Race's insightful words and nodded.
"Yeah, I get it," she responded.
"So whad 'bout you?" Race asked. West thought. Before, when she was one year younger, she had wanted nothing more than to move to the Western part of the country, far away from her father and to live with Spot happily ever after. Now being older and wiser, she was unsure of her true desires.
"If I had a lot of money… I'd buy all da Newsies a better Lodgin' House, buy me mothah a new house, and buy presents in time for Christmas." West and Race laughed. Neither had bought presents yet for anyone, and they knew spare money was tight.
"You gettin' somethin' fer, umm, ya know who?" Race queried, referring to Spot. West pretended not to hear him and smiled in the other direction.
"Hey, look! Kid Blink an' Mush are headin' ta Tibby's too, Race! Hold up!" she yelled at the two. Race sighed.
"At least I tried," he mumbled under his breath as he followed the three newsies into the warm diner for breakfast. "Coffee, please," he asked the waitress, sitting down at the table and taking off his coat. West smiled at him, but her grin didn't reach her eyes the way they used to.
A/N: Due to requests, I split my current chapter in to two chapters. Hope you like this! Give me lots of feedback. Demure's intro will come soon after this story ends! I promise!
