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Chapter 6-Anne and Spot

Anne

The boy wrapped his hand around Anne's wrist and gently and quickly led her through the cities winding streets to a small diner. He pushed the door open like he owned the place and led them inside.

Once inside, several young men greeted her and the young man, whose name she now knew was Spot. Several of them approached Spot and asked him how the heck he found such a pretty girl as her. Anne didn't like the way they all assumed that she was Spot's girl. She was kind of glad about it though. If they thought that she was his girl maybe they would leave her alone. She was wrong.

Spot

Spot knew that bringing the girl to the diner would be a bad idea but he had been too dense to realize it when they were out on the street. He had gotten so wrapped up in finding Anne that he had forgotten that they were still in Brooklyn. And being the leader of Brooklyn people were bound to talk about him.

He tried to ignore the fellows as they teased him about Anne. If only what they said about Spot finally having a girl was true. He watched as she blushed and took a step away from him, only to take a step again towards him when one of the other young men approached her.

"Awww, you're too pretty to be hanging around the likes of Spot. Why don't you ditch this weasel and come hang with a real man?" a fellow Newsie asked as he tried to grab Anne's arm.

"Get out of here Rat Face and leave the girl alone before I soak you!" Spot shoved Rat Face back and stood in front of Anne protectively.

"Fine," Rat Face said irritated, "Gosh Spot, I was only foolin around. Since when were you so serious?"

Spot took Anne by the arm and led her to a booth in the back. "Sorry about that," he said apologetically, "Rat Face over there doesn't have enough brains in him to when to leave things alone. He's like that with everything."

Anne nodded her head slowly in understanding. They were silent for a moment both at a loss for words. Finally it was Anne who broke the silence.

"What was my father like?" Anne asked. Spot looked taken aback.

"Well, you would know him better than I did. He was your father." Spot wanted to be able to answer her questions but he wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to offend her at all. That was the last thing he wanted.

"I hadn't seen him for three years. And a person can change a lot in three years. What was he like when you knew him?" Anne asked with questioning eyes.

"Well, he was one of the best men I hope to ever meet in my life. I still remember the day he came to the Boarding House. He bumped into me like you did and I will admit that I gave him a bit of attitude, just like I gave you. He didn't just sit back and take it either. I think the two of you had a lot in common." Anne smiled at that, "Anyway, that day he scolded me about respect and how I wouldn't get anywhere in life with that attitude. He taught me a lot and was the dearest friend and father that I had ever had." Anne smiled a sad but content smile. Then she asked a harder question.

"How did he die?"

"Well, over in Manhattan where he worked as a trolley worker there was a big trolley strike going on. They weren't paying the workers as much as they deserved so a lot of them stopped working and started forming picket lines and stuff. Your father supported the strikers but he wouldn't join them, so they killed him as he tried to cross the picket line." At this Anne looked down.

"He wouldn't join them because he had to send money home right?" Anne asked even though she already knew the answer.

Spot nodded sadly, "It wasn't your fault and your father wouldn't want for you to blame yourself," he took a breath as if to say something else but was interrupted.

"Do you know where my father is buried?" Anne asked quietly.

"Of course."

"Can you take me there?"

Without a word Spot stood up took her wrist and led her from the Diner.