Chapter 4

Concerning Item #3: The Gray Hat 1

-

It didn't hurt too badly. Plenty of scrapes and bruises, but after the dust settled, and his breath was caught, Spot was actually able to stand with some effort. He stood with the others, staring at the building being consumed by flame. He looked at Mrs. Barrenger and Cat, bawling on one another, while Red comforted them. Spot frowned at his own cruel fate. He had lost another father, but this time, against his control.

-

"I'm sorry, dears," Mrs. Barrenger bawled when dawn finally came. "But this is where our life together ends. I'm afraid (sniff) you'll have to go on your own. I can barely afford myself now, having no home and no (sniff) husband to support me."

"We understand, Mrs. Barrenger," Spot said, fearing more water works. "Don't worry about us. We all smart kids. We'll manage."

"Please," she said, pulling out her coin purse. "Accept some money here, and at least some bread for breakfast, there you are…"

Spot took one look at her money in his hand and shook his head.

"Naw, take it back," he said. "It's the least I can do, for all you done for me."

"Then do me one more favor," she said, leaning close. "Look after Cat. Red can make do, but I don't want to see that poor dear selling more than flowers again on the streets."

Spot frowned at Cat, but swore anyway.

"Yeah, sure thing."

She gave them each a hug and kiss, then they parted ways. Red said something about going to Midtown, and Mrs. Barrenger went to look for work on the harbor. Spot looked at Cat, and walked off.

"Well, come on!" he called over his shoulder.

"We're you going?" she said, jogging to catch up.

"Upper Manhattan," he replied. "We'll find us a home and go find woik as newspaper sellers."

"Newsies? But--"

"You like eatin'?"

"Well, yes…"

"And ya like sleepin' unner a roof and in a bed?"

"Of course, but--"

"Then ya have to trust me on this, it's our best bet."

"Well, you don't have to be so rude about it."

Spot stopped and faced her.

"I'm your only protection from going back to how I met you, ready to be some guy's whore soon as he was drunk enough. If ya don't want that, which I get the strong feelin' that ya don't, then I say I can do whatever the hell I want, sweetface."

She shut her mouth abruptly.

"You're a good man, Spot, saving me twice now and all… but you're really mean."

"So sue me."

"You know, I don't need you."

"Yeah, you do," he said decidedly. "You just a little girl."

-

They walked until the twilight came, then took a moment to buy food and rest.

"Sleep a bit," Spot said sitting down and leaning his back against the brick building wall. "I'll watch ya."

She responded by sitting next to him and making herself at home on his shoulder.

"Hey, hey," Spot said, shoving her off. "None a' that, com'on…"

"Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"No, I just don't want ya gettin' all snuggles with me, I ain't your boyfriend. I'm just here until can drop ya somewhere on your feet, den we ain't never seein' each odder again, hear me?"

So she leaned away from him, laying in a ball on the ground.

Spot rolled his eyes at his own conscience. She never mentioned anything about wanting him to be her boyfriend. He didn't even know for sure that she even liked him like that. And here he was, assuming all these things that he didn't even know, snapping at her all over the place. Why did he jump to that conclusion so fast? Wasn't like he had romance on the brain…
Well, now that he thought about it, as he looked at her laying on the ground… He put that thought aside. Such bad timing.

"Sorry," he said to her at length, trying to mend the uncomfortable situation. She looked up at him and blinked in surprise.

"It's okay. I can take a gentle hint."

"You don't need to take no hints," Spot said. "I didn't mean it."

"I'm upset about the fire too."

"Yeah." That sounded like a good excuse to him.

"Come here," he said motioning her back up. He patted his shoulder. "Go ahead, sleep."

She smiled, and obeyed.

-

He didn't realize he fell asleep too, until the sun blazed mercilessly on his face. He pried open his eyes an groaned at the rude awakening. He looked at Cat on his shoulder, then remembered where he was. She hadn't moved.

"Hey," he said, shaking her gently. "Time to go."

She hugged him closer like a stuffed bear.

"Just a little longer," she begged, still half asleep. Spot looked around in embarrassment, wondering if anyone was watching. They weren't.

"Come on, Cat," he said, pushing her away as gingerly as possible. "Look, you stay here. I'm going to go get us breakfast, alright?"

"Mmmm…" she replied. Spot frowned, not wanting to leave her by herself, but figured he was only going to be gone for a few moments.

He got up and went to a bakery around the corner. He could smell it from where they slept. He carefully scanned the breads for the perfect one for Cat and himself, and the best buy, and finally selected a small loaf for them to share. He even paid the man extra to top it with honey, just to make Cat's morning. He didn't know why he was trying so hard to please her, but he figured she was his only friend at the moment, so why the hell not?

With a broad smile he made his way back around the corner, eager to present breakfast to Cat.

But his smile vanished as soon as he stepped around the wall. He saw just soon enough to see the tail of Cat's dress enter a carriage, followed by a tall thin woman, closing the door after herself.

"We're doing you good," the old woman said as the door closed.

"CAT!" Spot called in fear.

He saw Cat poke her head out the carriage for just a moment.

"Spot!"

Spot dropped the bread to the ground, running at top speed to catch the carriage, but the horses were too fast.

"No!" Spot called. "She's with me! Stop the carriage! STOP!"

Spot slowed to a stop as the carriage turned the corner and out of sight. She was gone.

But not fully.

Spot saw something white flutter to the ground in the distance. A white clothe.

Spot jogged over, and picked it up tenderly. It was a handkerchief, probably torn from the woman in Cat's struggle, but it was his saving grace, probably tossed out the window just for him. It had initials on it in cursive, scrawly letters.

A. G.

It was all he needed. Spot gripped it in his hand determinedly. How stupid it was to just leave Cat all alone to be taken by just any old charitable fool. It was a mistake he swore never to make, but now he had. But he would do everything in his power to fix it.

So he set on down the way he figured the carriage had gone, following the tracks in the muddy road, but all too soon, they ended and he was left without a path.

So he resorted to asking around for people that recognized the name, but no one could think of some old skinny lady with those initials.

Nightfall came too soon, and he still was no closer to her. He was without direction, no place to even begin. Maybe the lady didn't even live in this city, or worse, country! The thought made Spot shudder, but he knew he had to listen to that inner voice. He had to let her go for now. Maybe these people wouldn't treat her so bad. Maybe she was better off.

Spot shook the thoughts away. He'd never know until he found her, and that was that. But he couldn't wander aimlessly, that was also truth. He was out of cash, and he couldn't keep sleeping in the streets.

Man, he reeked. He needed a nice hot bath to get this smoke smell away from him too.

So the next morning, he awoke early, and set out to find a lodging house. Under the direction of some lovely fruit salesladies, he found it in no time. Kids were just pouring from its doors, which had a sign above that said:

"Newsboys Lodging House"

Just what he was looking for.

He grabbed at the first kid that ran past, who wore a red bandanna around his neck and a black cowboy hat dangling down his neck.

"Hey, hey, Cowboy!" Spot said pulling him to a stop. "You got room in dat place?"

"Sure, I suppose. Youse a newsie, or what?"

"Yeah. What do I look like?"

"Whoa, ease up, hot shot. Youse don't gotta hat, it was an honest mistake."

Spot glanced at the others, and saw that all the boys running out of the building wore hats. So he grabbed a gray one off of a running boy and placed it on his own head.

"Hey!" the boy protested.

"I do now," Spot declared to the cowboy.

"Hey!" The boy still protested.

"Don't you have some papes to sell?" Spot said, nodding him away. "Beat it, ya dope."

The cowboy, who was a head taller than him, stepped up to Spot's face.

"Who you think youse are anyways? Stealing Snoddy's lid and what-not."

Spot glared right back, not afraid of this western style fool in the least.

"I thinks I'm a kid with a new home and a new hat, heah?"

Several newsies gathered around to watch.

"Be thankful it wasn't somethin' of mine in your sticky fingers," the Cowboy said in an angry voice. Spot put up his fists.

"And you be thankful that these sticky fingers ain't knockin' your face in, Cowboy."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, threats are just words. I actually plan on goin' through with it in about five seconds if you don't get outta my face!"

"Sure, I'll get outta your face," he said, backing up. Spot glared for a moment, then turned to go.

"Runt."

The single word made Spot stop in his tracks. Immediately his fury level was at maximum. Too far. He had gone too far.

Spot turned back around slowly.

And lunged.

"Who's bet!" someone in the crowd yelled.

"I want money on the new kid!"

Spot felt no pain when he was in a fight; he only caused it. All feeling disappeared, his anger rendering his senses numb. The cowboy was good, and they fought and fought at equal abilities.

Finally, they stood at either side of their imaginary ring, and paused for a moment to catch their breath. Spot's lip bled; he could taste it. He also saw that damage had been done to his opponent too. The blood from the cowboy's nose was pouring onto the cobblestone street. They stared at each other, both amazed at one another's fighting skill, since both fancied themselves unbeatable.

"Draw?" the cowboy said, wiping the back of his hand under his nostrils. Spot nodded.

"Sure."

The crowd around them groaned.

So the Cowboy walked over and put out his hand.

"Name's Jack Kelly."

Spot, as a last insult to this man for calling him runt, spit into his hand before shaking Cowboy's.

"Spot Conlon," Spot said with an antagonizing grin. The Cowboy only grinned back.

"Com'on, Jack," a kid in a plaid vest and plaid pants said through the cigar in his mouth. "Let's go get some papes while they still sellin' 'em, eh?"

"Sure, Race."

Jack put his arm around Spot, and they walked to the distribution office together.

"So how'd you loin to fight like that, huh?" Jack said as they passed through the gates. Spot laughed.

"It's all talent, Cowboy," Spot said, straightening his new gray hat.

-

Spot waited in line like the rest of the newsboys, waiting for his turn to get his papers. This place was sure slow, and the boys around lingered to read the paper for useful headlines, only making the line slower. Spot grew impatient, but tried his best to keep it to himself.

That when he saw them. The Delancey brothers.

They were walking all smug and casual-like in their little suits, not a care in the world. They probably didn't even remember burning down the bar that night. Or killing Mr. Barrenger. Spot hesitated for a moment, then decided it was worth losing his place in line if it meant getting a punch or two in with those fellows.

"And you, you go in back, you lousy little shrimp."

Oscar was pointing at Spot. It was the last straw.

Spot took them by surprise, flying from the landing and tackling Morris completely to the ground.

"Spot! What're ya doin'?" he heard someone yell. Sounded like Racetrack, maybe.

"You dirty rat!" Spot yelled, hitting him again and again, not even realizing that there were two. Oscar grabbed at Spot and punched him once, before Jack joined in and socked Oscar square in the nose.

Weasel, the office man, yelled and screamed, trying to get them to stop, but that was all it took, then hell broke loose between the Delancey's and several more of the newsboys. The brothers were outnumbered, and it was all they could do to get inside the distribution office without being killed.

When the dust settled, Jack pulled Spot aside, handing Race their money to buy their papes for them.

"They'll think twice before sending the little ones in back, huh?" Racetrack laughed.

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "Especially this here Spot. He ain't good for their health."

With that Jack focused his attention on Spot.

"What was that 'bout, huh?"

"I don't need to answer you, Cowboy," Spot snarled. "It's personal, and it's none of your business. But consider those men dead meat."

"Already do, but sure," Jack replied.

-

Please review, if you have a moment.
Signed,
--RedRogue