"C'mon." Spot took my hand and lead me to his room.
"So whea is it supposed te be?" I asked as he knelt down beside his bed.
Spot moved his bed and underneath there a few of the floor boards were loose. "Right unda hea."
I knelt down beside him. "Dis ain't something dats gonna get ye in trouble?"
"Whudd ye take me foa? A fool!?"
"Yer right, ye ain't me." I smiled momentarily.
"Its jus a parta me life I like te keep secret." He gave a great sigh then moved the floor boards.
I was amazed at first by what I saw, a small antique box. Nothing like I expected. It was about the size of a jewelry box. I was glad I didn't see anything such as a weapon or a body. Not like one would fit under the floor boards. The box looked harmless, but what was inside was what counted.
"Can I borra dis fer a minute?" Spot asked taking the key from around my neck.
He slowly placed the key in the hole and turned it. I still didn't understand what was so bad that he was scared to show anyone. He slowly opened the box. I found that in the box contained many clippings from newspapers, some money he obviously was saving, a necklace, and another key, but this one looked like it went to a regular door.
After he opened the box he placed the key back around my neck.I looked at what the contents of the box. Slowly I reached for a clipping. As I pulled out one of the clippings I noticed they were all about murder. I saw one that had a boy that resembled Spot. Yet he was younger, a lot younger. Two girls, one a mother I guess and the other looked to be a little older than the boy. There was another picture of a boy, this one was defiantly Spot. And to the left of the pictures was a man was obviously Spots father.
"Spot? Exactly whudds wid all de clippins?" I held one up and looked at the picture on it.
"Read em. Derre about me."
"Conlon Children Left in Orphanage." I picked up another one. "Man Murda's Wife an Daughta." And yet another. "Conlon, Rich Man Left te Rot in Jail. It makes sense. Why ye waned me te meet me fatha. Ye hoped he didn't toin out like yers." I looked at Spot before picking up another clipping. "Oldest Son of Murdera, Conlon, Leaves Orphanage."
"Yeah dat was bout five yeas ago." Spot gave a weak smile. "Me pops still in jail. I visit I'm from time te time. Dun like im but I'm all he's got. Well almost. Me youngest brodda dunno whea I am er anythin."
I looked at Spot and couldn't help but feel remorse. "Dats why ye was late de odda day. Ye know ye coulda told me. Seein yer fatha. Whudd bout yer brodda, ye eva see im?"
"Only a few times. I see im on de street sometimes. I dunno how I'd eva break de news te im. Not te mention dat foition we gots is sittin in a bank. I put money in it every so often."
"Why dun ye use it?"
"Its fer me brodda. He's still not bein adopted er anythin so I figuaed when he's prolly Kevin's age I'll tell im who I really am an give im de money."
"Spot, Ye know I'm really proud of ye. But I think before ye make a mistake, tell yer brodda who ye are. I'm surre he wants te see ye. Whudd if he's hopin yer gonna come get im. Its only been five yeas. Whudd if he hasn forgotten bout ye? How old is he now?"
"Hes about ten yeas old. An his names Chris."
I smiled. "Chris eh? I'm bout te have a brodda in law dat dunn even know me."
"Angel I think it's a bad idea."
"So! When ye left im derre, whudd was de last thing ye two said te each odda?"
Spot looked at me then turned away. "I can't. I dunno whudd I'd say te im. Besides I only seem im sometimes when I go te de Bronx. He don even live round hea."
"SPOT CONLON!" I gave him my best disappointed look. "Dats neva stopped ye before. Dun think dat fer a second ima let dis excuse keep ye away from yer family." I grabbed the clippings. "Dis isn't how I want ye te rememba yer family. Even I got parta me life back afta whudd happened te me mudda." I helped Spot put the clippings away. As we did I picked up the necklace and held it out for Spot to see. "Whudds dis?"
"Dat was me mudda's. I was gonna give it te ye on yer next boithday." Spot snached the necklace. "Dats somethin me mudda gave me sista. He smiled.
"I'm sorry. Whudd happened?' I asked hoping he was ok to talk about it.
"Me sista was only six when it happened. I was eleven. Me fadda came home an he was drunk. I could smell it on im. Came in an was mumbling somethin. Had a bad day at woik, even dough he was einin lots a money, he still hated his job. De next thing I knew he was grabbin me sista an hittin her. Sayin she was good fer nothing." Spot's face was calm. "I grabbed her an covad her. He threw me off an hoid me sista an brodda cryin. He hit em both te shut em up. I did de best I could te keep im offa dem but I was weak an a kid. When I called im a good fer nuttin drunk he threw me against a wall. Said I was de man o de house an I gotta loin me place when he's home. He grabbed for de nearest object te hit me wid. Dat was when me mudda finally told im te stop." Spot paused an looked at me. I didn't know what to say so I reached for his hand. He smiled and took it.
"He always hated people tellin im whudd te do. Whudd he didn't realize was he grabbed a metal statue me mudda bought. He struck her wid it. And she feel. He hit her jus once. I can still rememba de look he gave when he realized whudd he did. Ye'd think he'da been sad since he loved her so much. Instead he jus hit me wid it, but I ran. I was a cowad."
"Spot youse was only a kid. If ye didn't leave ye coulda been killed.
"If I didn I coulda saved me sista. By de time de bulls got derre, he beat me sista te death an was woikin on me brudda. I only visit im three times a month. I figuaed since he had te need te kill me sista, den he dun really need any of us. Told im I'd neva let im see Chris. Nona dat stuff started till afta Chris was born so Chris had de woist memories of im."
Spot closed the box, he left only the key out and put everything else back in the small box. He placed the box back into the hol in the floor and carefully placed the boards on top. Making it look as if nothing had been moved. He also moved the bed back in place.
"One last thing te do." Spot sighed as he knelt down and picked up the key. He held it in his hand for a moment then looked at me.
"Whudds de key go te?" I questioned. "Me mudda. Everyone thought she was dead, especially me fadda, but he didn kill her. I found out de day afta I got outta de orphanage. Caught by de bulls. Shes alive as alive as she can be. Shes, well. I'll take ye derre. Lets go."