DISCLAIMER: None of the characters from the movie Newsies belong to the authors, but rather to Disney. Big surprise there, right? Dimples and Dewey own themselves.
A.N: Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed! ^_^ I love you all!
A Tale of Two Families…Trying to Make it as One
Chapter Three
The day Jack's telegram had been received by Spot Conlon was a bittersweet one indeed. Saddening because Spot and Dewey were shelving away their dreams for the livelihood of their children, because their aspirations for a comfortable life were being taken away, and because it seemed as if moving into the home of another would only further tear apart their already divided family. But there were also some tokens of merriment in the news. For one thing, just the fact that Jack had accepted them into his house without hesitation warmed Dewey's heart, and as much as Spot would hide it, she was quite sure it warmed his heart as well. Also, they were assuming the Kelly's would let them stay for as long as was required, and a duration of this sort was indeed convivial, for Spot didn't exactly know how long it'd take him to find new work. Hopefully, it wouldn't take ridiculously long. He had no intentions to overstay his welcome; one because it wasn't the classy way to go about business, and two because he was much too prideful to do anything of the sort anyhow.
In any case, he and Dewey spent the better part of Friday afternoon taking care of domestic affairs. While Spot packed up most of their larger possessions to send to the Kelly's house by carriage ahead of time and tagged off for sale those things they wouldn't be able to take for lack of space, Dewey personally consulted each and every one of their servants and ruefully told them her apologies for having to let them go. Her hardest dialogue passed with Mrs. Becky, for she adored the woman and the prospect of departing from such a kind soul truly broke her heart.
"Don't you worry now," Mrs. Becky said, in that rich southern twang. "I'll be just fine, you hear me? Why, with the last money you've given me, m'am, I'll be able to visit my sons out west."
However enlivening the statement was supposed to have been, it still pained the young woman to be the one delivering the tragic news. When the mansion was at last void of its worker, she aimlessly strolled into one of the many parlours and nearly cried at the sight. The room had been stripped naked; no grand piano, no towering shelf of books, nothing. Her knees grew weak as she searched in vain for the memories she'd been storing up for years. It was like looking into a beautifully designed mirror, only to realize there was no reflection looking back at her. She didn't even want to begin fathoming how hard her children would take it.
Ethan and siblings hadn't come home until dusk, for the eldest had been forced by his parents to take his brothers and sister to the cinema to see a new flick recently released. Of course, he had much rather gone with his newest girlfriend, a Miss Rebecca Winters, then be the ring-leader to an assembly of troublemakers. Much to his surprise, though, the others had been quite civil in their conduct, as if they'd been tranquilized to obey his every word. Even J.P. was being obedient, and that was saying much indeed.
Smiling in accomplishment at having taken well his elder brother duties, he knocked on the front door of their house as the others waited in the front yard either playing tag or throwing pebbles at the birds nested in the branches of the yard's tree (this was J.P.'s mischievous doing). He received no answer the first two times, but assumed the servants simply were busy fixing up the sitting room or the kitchen and thus were out of ear-shot, and so he tried again, and then again, but when he'd received no answer even after these efforts, he stepped back onto the cobblestone path leading to the doorstep and looked up at the house.
For a moment he considered the possibility of having happened unto the wrong house, but no, he hadn't made a mistake in that instance. Had the servants retired early this evening? Had his mother and father gone out to some social ball without leaving behind a spare key? He checked under the doormat, in the pots of the plants lining up the outside window, and even grabbed a chair from the patio upon which he stood to check the gutters above his head for a means by which to enter his house. But he found none. Just as he was about to throw himself against the door and pound onto the structure with clenched fists, it clicked open, Dewey standing in the doorway with a hesitant smile.
"Hey, sweetheart," she said, combing her fingers through his hair. "How was the movie? Did you enjoy it? What's wrong?" She noticed his pale face and his lack of replies, and was immediately thrust into uneasiness. She looked past him to her other children, counting them up with admirable speed, afraid she wouldn't reach the correct number. But they were all there, and for the moment, her heart was at rest once more. "Ethan," she said more softly, "what's the matter?"
"Mom, why didn't anyone answer the door? Where is everybody? I thought…I thought you and Dad had…left…"
She stared at him in astonishment. For him to have thought such a thing! She pulled him close to her for a tight hug and assured him he'd never know the cruel fate he'd imagined. "Everyone come inside," she said, clearing the door way for the others to enter. "J.P. Leave those birds alone and come inside." The boy acted in the manner of the deaf, for he threw one last stone and cursed under his breath when he'd missed his target. "J.P.!"
Within minutes, the Conlon children were ushered through their home straight into the family room, where Spot was already seated at a desk laden with papers, scribbling away hastily on a number of documents. The unusual vacancy of the rooms they'd passed while on their way to this final destination had gone unnoticed by all save Neeko, whose large curious brown eyes never missed a thing. At one point, he was about to pose a question to his mother concerning the whereabouts of all their possessions, but when he saw his siblings remain silent, he figured they knew of something which would later be explained to him. Never did he contribute their lack of inquiries to the fact of it being too dark in the halls to see much of anything, or the possibility that the others were too busy dwelling on personal matters internally.
"Hello, kids," Spot said, without looking up in greeting. He received a number of blank-toned replies distorted with the words "Dad", "Daddy", and one "Father"-the speaker of which was none other than J.P., who refused to call Spot anything else. "How was the motion picture?"
"Oh Daddy!" exclaimed Ruthie as she jumped from her seat and waved her little arms about, not caring to restrain her glee. "It was so good! Me and Andy threw popcorn at the boy in front of us throughout the whole film, and he thought it was J.P. because J.P. kept saying bad words to him, so he went out into the lobby and got a lady from the ticket booth, and the lady asked J.P. to leave but he wouldn't, so then they got the manager man and Ethan said we had to leave early before we got in big trouble, so we went to the ice cream parlour, and Connor bought us all sundaes with the money he'd been saving from his birthday." Satisfied with her reiteration, she resumed her seat beside her twin brother and covered her giggles with two hands.
Dewey looked to Ethan and J.P., fully expecting explanation for such infantile actions. She'd sent them out for quality time because she had believed her two eldest sons could handle the responsibility, but apparently, she would have to re-evaluate those beliefs. Spot only gave the two a cold glare, the same that always served to make them wish they were perfect angels, and then went back to his work. "Listen," he said a minute later, "your mother and I have something very important we want to discuss with you."
"And we want you to be patient as we explain everything in detail," she added, moving to the front of the room where she stood beside Spot. "We know this might be hard for you all to hear, but we need you to cooperate with us."
"Mommy, what's wrong?" asked a worried Andy. He and Ruthie were holding hands to give each other strength. Were Mommy and Daddy selling their big playhouse in the backyard? Switching their rooms to the third story? Canceling their trip to the toy store this weekend?
Ethan noted the serious tone in his parents' speech and sat on the edge of his seat. "Dad, what's wrong? Did all the servants quit or something? Why aren't they here?"
"They didn't quit, Ethan. We had to lay them off."
"Wha…What? I don't understand. Why would you do that? Were they demanding more money?"
Dewey felt the need to interrupt his questionings. Looking at him with a peaceful sadness, she shook her head in reply and laid a hand on Spot's shoulder. "Ethan, sweety, your father lost his job earlier this week." Utter silence engulfed the room. She then diverted her eyes to the other children. "We can no longer afford to live in excess as we've been doing for so long. We need to come back on our budget, and some sacrifices will have to be made."
Connor was entranced by the words as he looked up at her, perplexity striking his features. He was only eight years old, but even from his childish mindset was he able to deduce that something was terribly wrong. "What kind of sacrifices?"
Spot took over from here. He wasn't going to subject Dewey to the bitter opposition that would rise against them after the news was delivered to the children. It had been his miscalculations as a worker that had lost him the job, and though he knew his wife would stand by him through thick and thin, he didn't want the kids to think they'd been deprived of both their parental sources as opposed to just one. "Ethan, J.P., Connor, Andy, Ruthie, Neeko. Your mother and I understand that you've all come to love the city; that you've grown close to your friends, schools, and teachers. We know that Brooklyn has become like a world to you."
"To most of us," J.P. corrected in a blank tone.
"Well then, J.P. You'd be happy to hear that you have the opportunity to start all over again. You see, kids, we can't stay in this house any longer and at the moment, we haven't the financial backing to seek out smaller places in the city. And so a good friend of mine and your mother's has offered us boarding in his own house. He lives out in the country; a great place. We'll be moving there early next week."
The tension in the room finally snapped. Replies tried to be made, but voices choked on the words. Others relied on simply staring off with widened eyes and gaping mouths. The younger ones harbored tear-filled eyes, shaking their heads in denial.
Neeko was the first to speak up. "Daddy, does this mean I can have a puppy now?"
* * * * * * *
"I'm NOT going!" Ethan had declared the exclamation in so vehement a tone that one would think he'd been asked to give away all his possessions and renounce his livelihood. But the sixteen-year old was merely determined to put on a melodrama on the front steps of the house for all the neighborhood to behold. "I don't want to live on a stupid farm! I don't want to leave the city! My whole life is here; my friends…and what about Rebecca?" "And what about the baseball team, mom! I just got pitcher. Pitcher! I can't leave!"
But his mother was too busy labeling the boxes stacked in the front yard with the names of their rightful owner and the contents which they contained. It didn't help that Andy and Ruthie had been playing one last game of chase with their friends, only to now be sobbing with these same friends when the prospect of their moving to another district altogether became a reality.
"Mommy, do we have to go?" they had asked continuously. And though the young woman had tried to explain to them that they simply couldn't afford to live in the city anymore, their naivety just couldn't quite make the connections. After all, couldn't they simply get a loan? Or couldn't Uncle Lucas help them out? In the end, Dewey had answered their questions by telling them to pack up the rest of their toys before lunch came and with a sigh thought that understanding would only come to them through growing up.
Ethan was feeling as if no attention was being paid to him. "Mom!" he called out yet again. "I'm not going! Why can't I just live with Philip's family until you all come back? I'm in the middle of high school; you'd ruin my life if you took me to the country now. I'm not going!"
"Why do you have to have a complaint for every single thing, Ethan? Do you see your little brothers and sister? Not one is complaining as much as you are, and just like you they're leaving behind friends and memories. As the eldest, and the more mature, you should be setting an example, not shouting at the top of yours lungs so that everyone on the block can hear!"
"Let them hear me, I don't care!"
"But I do," she said to him sternly, those motherly eyes firm as they rested onto him. "I won't be the laughing stock of this community, Ethan. And I won't have anyone thinking I've raised uncontrollable circus animals for children. Life's full of highs and lows, and right now we're at our lowest and there's nothing I can do about it. Oh, I'd love to be able to keep you at your school, Ethan, so that you can go on playing baseball and socializing with your friends and girlfriend, but that's beyond my control now. I know it hurts, but it's definitely not a time to be laying blame on anyone as you so carelessly do. Now I advise you to finish up the last of your packing and say all your goodbye's before we set off for the Kelly's." She looked at him one last time, and then continued with her own work.
Spot was nearing the house then, Neeko holding his hand as they crossed a street and then walked onto the front yard of their residence. In his free hand, Spot held a brown paper bag into which was packed bronchitis medication for his youngest son and also anti-depressant drugs for J.P. It would be their last prescription from the city doctor, and so their father had purchased them enough to last 2-3 months, though he doubted they'd be staying in the country for so long. At the most, Spot expected to only need to take Jack up on his offer for a maximum of two weeks.
"Mommy! Guess what! Daddy said I can have a puppy when we move into the country!" Neeko came tottering to the young woman, stopping only once to let out a hoarse cough onto his hand-as he yet had trouble breathing normally, before resuming his run and throwing his hands around his mother's legs in greeting. She hugged him back affectionately, and after talking to him for a few minutes, she sent him into the house to pack.
When the front door closed behind him, Dewey gave Spot an unreadable expression. "You're starting to promise them things already?"
"It's just a puppy," said he in reply, "and I hardly think he'll remember he asked for it once we get settled over there."
"Spot, that's not the point! What happens when he does remember? What then! You can't keep making promises you don't intend on keeping. For all their lives, that's all you've been doing; filling them with promises and then breaking them down when something comes up. The younger ones will forgive you endlessly, but Ethan and J.P. are starting to see it for what it is, Spot."
He threw up his hands, fully annoyed. "And what do you want me to do, Dewey?" he hissed at her. "What am I supposed to say whenever Ruthie asks me for a new dollhouse, or when Connor wants a new microscope kit?"
"They'd respect you more if you're just honest!" She put down the box she was currently labeling and looked at him with saddened eyes. In him she tried to find the man she had married nearly two decades ago. In him she tried to find the passionate husband and father she'd once known. But it seemed as if the ashy residue of the individual she sought was the only thing left behind. "I have work to do," she said at last, for the moment giving up on her attempts to have Spot see it from her side of the family war. "Lunch will be ready at noon."
* * * * * * *
"This is not fair!" Andy cried out, as he dragged his last box of toys to the living room, where several other pieces of luggage and packed items were steadily being accumulated. His cheeks were pouted as he spoke, angry blue eyes sparking like embers. "Why can I only take some of my toys, not all of them?"
Ruthie sat onto the arm of a couch, crying quiet tears as she watched her twin brother protest. Her father had told her earlier that morning that she could only take a few dolls of the vast collection she had built up for the past two years. She'd already given half the collection-which added up to twenty dolls-to charity, and now she looked over the remaining twenty to finalize which ones would join her in the country. "I don't like moving! I can't decide between Isabelle or Charlotte…and what about Susie, Jennifer, and Tanya?"
"And what about my toy ship, and army figurines, and…and the pirate clubhouse in the backyard!" He sniffled, wiping already dried tears from his face.
"You guys are crying over nothing." It was Ethan who spoke as he angrily flipped through the pages of a book forgotten on the floor. He assumed it had fallen out a box from the library, and so he simply tossed it into his own luggage. With hands in his pockets, he turned to address his siblings. All were present in the same room, mourning their having to move in their own ways. Connor cradled his pet grasshopper in his hand, telling it he'd have to leave it behind. Neeko was lying on the floor flat on his stomach, his face propped up onto two little hands as he watched and wondered why it was the older ones were so upset. The twins cried over their toys, and J.P. sat onto a richly upholstered chair apart from the others in a far corner as he read more of his classical gothic literature with a light smirk.
"I had to break up with Rebecca today," Ethan went on, his eyes narrowed in a perfect conveyance of his anger. "I had to tell Coach Williams that I was dropping out of the baseball team; if we ever move back to the city he probably won't ever put me back on the team as pitcher again. My whole life is completely falling to ruins right before my eyes!"
"Why can't we move into an apartment?" Connor asked with a pure sadness. "I was just starting to make friends at my school. I'm going to be all alone when I start this new school."
"Well you can just make new friends, Connor," Neeko replied, in a diction that, though childish, yet pronounced each word in perfect enunciation. For a four year old, he was actually rather intelligent, and it wasn't an unknown fact that his reading level was already at first-grade status. "Mommy and Daddy said we don't have enough money for an apartment."
Ethan scoffed. "Well Mommy and Daddy should've thought of that before they went on a spending rendezvous and decided to have a 14-room mansion when there were only eight of us to worry about. And like Dad cares that he's messing up all of our lives! All he's concerned about is his stupid little job at the law firm. God, I feel like a stranger to him…"
"Doesn't he love us anymore?" Ruthie shed fresh tears as she hugged a doll close to her, her chest heaving up and down in panicked breaths. "Why do you feel like a stranger, Ethan? Doesn't he love us?"
The others fell to silence, neither knowing what to say. J.P. shut his book, still smirking, rose to his feet, and sauntered to the center of the room. So they felt depressed, did they? How infantile they all were. So they felt like outcasts to their own father, did they? It was about time they opened their long-sealed eyes.
"Every last one of you sounds like a whining baby," he spat at them with eyes that looked as if they were brewing a storm. "So what if we have to move in with horses and cows? Get the hell over it already and grow up. It's not like Mom can do anything. We have no money whatsoever; what part of that do you not understand? And so what if you're leaving behind your friends? Boo-hoo, cry me a river. If you think you'll feel so alone, deal with it. If you feel like Dad couldn't even give an accurate description of you should you one day run away because he's only looked at you for 1/8 of your life, grow up and stop reciting your sob stories.
"Congratulations on obtaining a depressive state of mind," he went on. "Now you all know how I feel like every damned day of my life." With one last glare, he threw the book he had been reading into a box that had yet to be sealed, and casually walked up the stairs, his feet slamming onto each step with controlled anger.
* * * * * * *
The Conlon's loaded two carriages after lunch. One would be used for transporting the family, the other for transporting their luggage. The following morning they would start off for the Kelly residence, and it would prove to be quite the long ride. It'd start with plenty of arguing, and would decrescendo into bitter grudges and sidelong glances of hatred. There would almost be a fist-fight between Ethan and J.P., but fortunately Spot would intercede before it became too serious. For the remainder of the journey, they'd retreat into their own thoughts. In some cases, thoughts of hope for the future, of finding something that'd make them happy in the country. But more than anything, the majority of the Conlon children would harbor thoughts of animosity and rage.
Spot, Dewey, and their six children sat in the horse-drawn carriage alongside the road, everyone beholding for one last time the titanic house that had sheltered them for so many years, that had been the birthplace of all their memories and dreams. Andy and Ruthie sighed as they stared at the huge tree in the front yard where they'd many times push each other on the tire swing. Connor's eyes were glued onto the small burrow adjacent to the house's patio, where he knew a grey rabbit resided. Unbeknownst to the others, the rabbit had been his secret pet, and the leftovers no one could quite fine the afternoons following a big dinner always had gone to the small animal.
Neeko was only four and so hadn't too many memories to revel in as he beheld the house, but he knew for a fact that he was going to miss the hammock in the backyard where he'd many times laid in his mother's arms as she read to him of knights and princesses. Ethan watched on with hot tears in his eyes as he focused on the patio swing where he and Rebecca had first kissed. He promised the girl he would write to her three times a week, or even more often than that. It broke his heart having to leave her behind. His relationship with her had been different than the ones he had shared with other girls.
J.P. rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness in the others' behaviors. When he looked at the house, all he saw was a structure of bricks and wood. "Can we go already?" he asked with a groan. "At this rate, it'll take us a week to get there."
"J.P.'s right. We better get a move on, kids. Soon it'll be dusk." Spot picked up the horse reins and urged the beasts on with a light smack against their backs. Ethan and J.P. sat on the second carriage, and when their father had begun to start off for their new home, the eldest son reluctantly followed suit by beckoning his own pair of horses (which they'd borrowed from a friend with vast acreage and a stable upstate) to begin their trot to the country.
"Don't worry, Ethan," said J.P. while opening a book to read. "Rebecca will think about you for a week or two before she finds someone else to warm her bed." He smirked devilishly and acted as if he hadn't noticed Ethan's death glare. It was going to be a long ride indeed.
* * * * * * *
Please Review!