As the soft breeze swirled around them gently, Spot recalled selective events from the past few months to tell Gabby. He left out all the gory details, like battles and confidential meetings, and avoided memories that were just too damn painful to talk about. Mostly he mentioned the generality of the war and its depressing outcome, including the reasons that had brought him to where he was now. Gabby rested her temple on her hand as she watched him through saddened and sympathetic eyes.
"You poor thing…" she said softly and rubbed his hand that rested on his knee.
Spot looked down at their hands strangely and back up at her. For someone he had just met, she was very at ease.
"But dealing with a loss like that…I know where you're coming from. Well, not exactly, but I understand."
"Really?" Spot wasn't sure if he wanted to get into the story of this girl's life. On the other hand, it was nice to talk about it without someone telling him that he needed to move on and kill Tyce in cold blood.
Gabby nodded and sighed. "Yeah, both my parents just died not too long ago. Got really sick and now I'm all by myself."
For a moment Spot thought she was going to break down and start sobbing uncontrollably, and he definitely wasn't up for that. He would put his best moves on a girl if they were upset in order to "comfort" them, but Spot was neither in the mood to be fake or in the mood to get up this girl's skirt; although it would have been nice, seeing as how she was reasonably attractive.
But that didn't happen. True fact: besides her baby days, there had only been two times in which Gabrielle Lawrence really cried in her life; once for her father's death and once for her mother's. It wasn't that she possessed a cold heart or any rubbish of that sort; it simply took a lot to move Gabrielle to tears and she was particularly hard to crack.
"So, ya got no one?" Spot asked.
"I got no one," she repeated.
Gabby and Spot looked at one another for a moment in time and connected at an unexplainable level. Then the moment was gone.
"Well," Spot stood up, "nice chattin' with ya, Gabby. But I gotta go see if I can still sell some papes." He held out his hand as she shook it politely.
"You too." A charming smile grew to her face. "I'll you see around. Maybe even right here again!"
Spot let out an amused laugh. "If luck'll have it, I'll see ya later right here at this bench." He waved goodbye and trotted to the distribution place.
Gabby sighed contently to herself and went back to reading her newspaper. Her big, almond-shaped eyes scanned over various stories that really didn't interest her. Secretly she just thought it would give her an excuse to sit next that handsome newsboy and possibly strike up a conversation. Her plan was successful.
After twenty minutes or so of picking apart certain articles, she folded up the paper and got to her feet. The sun now peeked through tall buildings on occasion and showered parts of the streets with a rich, golden coating of light. Gabby wobbled about aimlessly in no rush at all. In fact, she was scooting around town out of sheer boredom. It had been exactly nine days since she was left completely alone. Before her parents fell ill with a disease unknown to her, she attended school every day and if she wasn't doing that, she was helping around the apartment. Fortunately, they had left Gabby a large sum of money that was just enough for her to live on for a month in case anything should happen.
After nine days of getting more familiar with Brooklyn, Gabby had nothing to do. She could get a job. Scratch that; she had to get a job. But where to work? One of the factories would be a definite cure for boredom. Then again, she liked the fact that all four of her limbs were still intact. Perhaps a maid? But she truly detested having to clean up her own things, let alone somebody else's. And then there was the option of becoming a showgirl! In fact, while she walked past a bar or club one day, a greasy man asked if she would be interested in being a showgirl for him. According to him she had all the required equipment (a decent-sized rack and a slender body). Gabby simply declined his offer as politely as she could with a disgusted slap across his greasy face. There was no way Gabby would parade around in some corset while middle-aged men chucked spare change at her.
As she strolled along the streets she came upon a bookstore. She hadn't been in one of those in a while and a satisfied comfort came to her. The small shop was quiet as a stout old man dusted the large wooden shelves. Gabby wandered up and down the few aisles slowly, browsing the books' spines and occasionally flipping through some. At the end of the last aisle, the book Huckleberry Finn came to her attention. A short gasp sprang to her lips and she held the hard green cover in front of her face.
Huckleberry Finn was a book her mom always insisted on reading. However, when Gabby left her home all she took with her was a suitcase packed with clothes, a family photo, and her baby blanket. The hike back home to another part of New York City was both arduous and emotional. Without hesitation, she purchased the book and left.
To please her growling stomach, Gabby stopped in at a restaurant she passed quite frequently while trekking around Brooklyn: Sonny's. Never had she been there but she had heard many newsies had their meals there and she hoped the food was all right. Being late morning, the restaurant wasn't too crowded and noisy. People ate quietly at their tables here and there and lone diners consumed their food silently by themselves. Gabby, being a lone diner, sat down at a small wooden table and soon enough a waiter came around for her order. Not long did she have to wait until he returned with her sandwich and glass of water. She flipped to the first page of her book and drowned out her surroundings in the piece of literature.
Almost an hour had passed and a nearly finished sandwich lay in a smile pile of crumbs on her plate. Her concentration was interrupted as waves of newsies began to come into Sonny's. Gabby furrowed her eyebrows at the pages and eventually had to trace her finger along the text to follow along. Just as she flipped the page, a skinny boy of fifteen sat down in the chair across from her.
"God, I'm starvin'," the boy said and finished Gabby's half-empty glass.
"Good morning, Ace," Gabby greeted without turning away from the book.
Ace grunted something back in response and took it upon himself to finish off her sandwich.
"I was going to finish that, you know," she said, slightly irritated and brought the book closer to her face.
"All right," Ace replied through a mouthful of food and continued to eat. "Should you be doin' that now? When ya go stuff to do?"
Gabby looked up and stared at his messed face and winced. "Rough morning, I take it. What else did you expect?" Her eyes flicked back down. "You ran and now you're paying the price."
"You shut up," Ace said defensively. "Ain't that easy gettin' back into the swing 'a things."
"Right. But you never got the shit kicked out of you much before," she smiled teasingly.
"I did not get the shit kicked outta me!" Ace's voice level rose suddenly as Gabby laughed. He reached across the table and snatched the book with his grubby little hands. Squinting at the cover, he read the title to himself. "Ya shouldn't be wastin' your valuable time with these things. Not now at least." He simply tossed the book to the ground and looked away.
Gabby scoffed and punched his arm. "Pick it up!" she shouted. "I beat your ass when I was eight and I think I can do it again."
"'Scuse me, I won that fight, okay? Past is in the past, so let's not go rewritin' history." Ace reluctantly bent down and retrieved the heavy book. He dug around for money, which was not a whole lot, inside his dark blue pockets and sprawled it onto the table, totaling a mere sixty-nine cents.
Gabby raised her eyebrows and said sarcastically, "Impressive."
"Let's see you sell papes," Ace challenged.
"Sorry, I've got my own priorities." Gabby collected her book and rose from the table. She said goodbye to Ace and exited Sonny's Restaurant.