Added Author's notes: Okay, I'm really sorry- I originally tried to post this on Wednesday, but QuickEdit flipped out on me, so I took it off. Until I could get to a computer that had it look better (namely, the computers at the library), I had to keep it in document manager. It still said I updated it, though. I'm sorry for any confusion…
Original Author's notes: Sorry… I kind of disappeared for a while there. I was working on my stupid insect collection (which is FINALLY turned in and graded)…
When that was all said and done, I started working on a project for the NML (Newsies Mailing List for those who don't know… I'm Marty on there, and I recommend joining if you haven't already- it's the best place for Newsies fans)- Racetrack Week, which is November 26 to December 3. If you want the rules and information, please e-mail me.
And here's the long awaited chapter… about Brooklyn's best killer, Ford Conlon… bet you can guess who he is…
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except Julia Lattori, Pipes, Pepper, Samuel "Ford" Conlon, and Irene "Saint" Higgins. Everyone else either owns (well, owned… they're long gone) themselves (in the case of Race, Mush, Kid Blink, and other actual newsies) or Disney owns. Not me. And this is the last disclaimer…
Chapter Six: Ford Conlon
Ford sighed. The leaky sink in the washroom was getting on his nerves. He was lying on his bunk, staring at the ceiling, memorizing the cracks. The Brooklyn Lodging House had become rather run-down in the past few years…
Drip, drip, drip.
"Is someone ever gonna fix that thing?" he said to his bunkmate, a newsie named Pepper.
"Maybe someday," Pepper answered back. "Why don't 'cha ask your father?"
Ford chose to ignore him and go back to looking at the ceiling. He sighed again. Pepper, although he was the closest thing to a friend Ford had, would never understand why he couldn't talk to his father. No one would. No one knew why the fifteen-year-old son of one of the most feared men in New York City was afraid of his father. In fact, no one knew he was scared. No one at all.
Drip, drip, drip.
He remembered the good days, before Brooklyn fell apart.
Spot would take Sam with him everywhere; from just selling his newspapers to meetings with the other boroughs. He taught his son to read, to write, to observe, and most importantly (at lease to Spot) how to fight. Spot noticed that Sam, at this young age, had a knack for being fast when fighting. He was a quick thinker- strategies flew through his head like they wouldn't be able to be used again. Soon, Sam was as advanced as the oldest newsies. Sam wasn't a bit intimidated. Of course, why should he have been? He was Spot Conlon's son, after all.
Much like Irene and Race, they were very close. Sam had acquired a nickname during this time- "Ford," due to the fact that he would always scream "Model T!" when he saw one. His father would laugh and explain about the assembly line; how Henry Ford had changed the world. Shortly after Sam's second birthday, the man who ran the Brooklyn lodging house died. He did not leave the lodging house to anyone, but everyone knew that it would be Spot's. Spot now was the richest and most powerful newsie in New York. He was very busy, but he still made time to take care of his son.
All that changed with the death of Kloppman. Irene lost her "grandfather" that day, but gained a new place in society.
Sam, on the other hand, lost his father that day. Spot was furious. Racetrack was now his equal as far as power came. He had to share his title of the most powerful and feared newsie in New York. So now, Spot was a power-hungry gangster, doing anything he could to get more power, more control. And in doing so, forgetting his son.
The only thing that Sam had left of the days when his father was around was the nickname his father gave him- "Ford". Almost no one called him Sam anymore- he was Ford Conlon, heir to Brooklyn. Ford Conlon, Spot's best killer.
Sam now wasn't important to Spot- he was just another newsie. A very important newsie, but he lived and worked with the other newsies just the same. Which suited him just fine- except for the carrying-out-Spot's-every-command-without-a-word part. Spot always taught him to speak his mind- something he always had a problem with. Sam was the type of person who would secretly plan retaliation without saying a word.
He would notice the bad conditions of the lodging house and not say a word to anyone but his friends. He would notice someone getting beat up on the street, find out who they were, and what happened to them- without a word. He would kill whoever his father told him to kill and not say a word, though he would wonder what the poor soul had done to deserve it.
The only time Sam would ever see his father was when he paid to stay at the lodging house, when he was woken up by "Get your ass out of bed!", and when he was sent for, which only happened when Spot wanted somebody dead.
And Spot wasn't kind to his son anymore. A typical conversation with his father would be one-sided. Well, it would be two-sided, but only one had the final word.
"Ford," Spot Conlon would say.
"Hello…" Ford said, not knowing how to reply to the most powerful newsie in New York.
"I'se got a job for you."
Ford would sigh. "Who is it this time?"
Spot would give the name of the unfortunate person who had crossed his path, and where Ford could find him.
"What'd he do?"
"That's none of your business. You'se a smart-ass… Didn't I ever teach you the most important rule of bein' a newsie? Don' ask questions. Not to me. Not to anyone. Pay attention the first time, and just do what you'se are told," Spot would say, giving the same speech he always did.
"Fine," Ford said. He'd walk out the door.
Then, at night when no one could see him, he'd do the dirty deed. And, as all Brooklyn murders these days, he'd dip his finger in the victim's blood, and then traced a "B" for Brooklyn and the letters "F" and "C" on the victim's right hand. A year or two back, Spot made it known that he wanted everyone to know who were the best in New York. So he came up with the system of writing the "B" and then the initials of the killer.
Once everyone figured out that the initials on almost all of the hands were "F" and "C", they put two and two together and figured out that Ford Conlon must be no one to mess with.
Ford had a reputation in New York. Every one knew that the famous killer was Spot Conlon's son- and the heir to Brooklyn. That was the reason Ford had never had many friends in Brooklyn- they were all afraid of him. Everyone did exactly what he said, when he said it. He never took advantage of them, though. The only person who ever genuinely talked to him, as the closest thing to a friend Ford had ever had, was Pepper, who had been a newsie since they were both nine. Pepper had his limits though- sometimes he could see right through Ford.
Everyone expected that one day, Ford would be as cynical as his father and control Brooklyn the same way. But Ford continued to silently protest the way his father treated him, Brooklyn, and New York. All he could do was hope- hope that one day, Brooklyn would go back to being the safe (well, safer) haven it had been when he was younger, and not the mafia it had become.
Brooklyn was his life, his soul, and his future- and it would all fade in an instant if Ford didn't do anything.
Author's notes: I LIVE! It's been a while, hasn't it? Well, I had that stupid project (which I turned in and got a 92 on… better then nothing, I guess, but there goes my 100 in Science)…
Also, this was a really hard chapter to write… I didn't want too many original characters, and Spot and Ford are the only (current- Pipes is dead… more about him later) Brooklyn newsies that we know of… so, I just added Pepper.
Shout-outs (yes, everyone gets a shout-out this time!):
Squanto: Yes, people, this is the Ashley I was referring to before- except she has an account now! Yay! Anyways, I posted the next chapter- are you happy?
christianrockstar: Thanks! By the way, I like your Doogie Howser story- I've never seen the show and I understand it!
Gamble 7: Thanks… I'm hoping Ford's not a Gary Stu…
Silky Conlon: The Newsies Mary Sue Litmus Test is a type of quiz you can take online to tell you if your character is a Mary Sue, using a system of points and percentages. The link is
h t t p / w w w . g e o ci ti e s . c o m / H o l l y w o o d / T r a I l e r / 3 8 5 8 / m s n e w s i e s . h t m l (but take out the spaces…) It's helpful… Oh, and thanks for the review!
madmbutterfly713: There's stuff about the Litmus Test above… And thanks for your compliments!
Pepper's fun to write... you'll see. He's Brooklyn's comic relief... With his wacko thing with purple ties... lol I gave too much info away...