Chapter 6

Concerning Item #2: The Gold-Tipped Cane 3 (continued)

-

"They have about ten around Haze all the time," Spot said to Woodsy, as they hung out on a roof over Haze's new hideout. "So we're gonna hafta make sure the range shooters cover me while I move in on Haze, hear?"

They had a little more spying, and just a little more research to do before they struck.

An auburn haired girl entered then, wearing nice looking clothes of sky blue.

"Who's that?" Spot asked Woodsy.

"Who, the girl?" Woodsy replied. "That's Haze's latest lady, Abigail."

Spot smiled.

"Yeah, I want that too," Spot said decidedly, and headed for the door to the stairs down.

"You want Haze's girl? Youse really suicidal, ya know that, Spot?" Woodsy complained as he followed.

"He'll never know, Woods," Spot replied happily. A new challenge. Something else to set him on danger's dinner table. He liked that. Made the girl even more attractive.

"Youse want a little company?" Woodsy insisted on changing his mind. "I got plenty a' girls who'd be interested. Youse don't need her."

"You're right, Woods," Spot said agreeably. "I don't need her. I ain't half bad to look at."

"--Not bad at all!" Woodsy agreed.

"There are plenty a' women who'd gladly fall at me feet."

"--Of course!"

"But I want that one."

"--Sure! Wait, no… No!"

Spot chuckled at his own cleverness.

"Don't wait up for me tonight, Woods."

"Spot! Youse do this, youse a dead man!"

"Then I'll die a happy man!"

Because what Spot wanted, he got.

-

Spot stood in the dark streets, illuminated under a street lamp like he was in a spotlight. He was leaning against a side wall just outside of a local bar. He had been waiting for about five minutes now, but he wasn't in a hurry. Patience was everything in the new game he played. His timing was planned and flawless.

She came out exactly on schedule. She always left before the others, at this very moment, when they were drunk enough not to miss her. She wore red today, like she was dressed for theatre. God, she looked good and she knew it.

"Heya, sweetface," Spot said gently, as to not startle her any more than he couldn't avoid. He took off his hat in respect. She looked him over quickly.

"What do youse want, kid?"

"How about you makin' a man outta me?"

"Smooth, very smooth, short stuff."

She scanned him down again, this time slower, and more obvious.

"What's your name?"

"Well, it's Spot Conlon, but maybe we can work on a new name latah', huh?"

Abigail smiled.

"If only it were that easy," she replied. "Do you know who I am?"

"Sure I do. Yer Haze's girl."

"And you're still going after me?"

"I'm goin' after everyone workin' with Haze. See, way I figure, you affiliated with him, you need go down. Your gonna need to be… ahem… conquered just like the rest of 'em. Who knows, maybe ya be one a' the strong ones that need to be conquered, two, even three times, maybe."

"That right? Go on…"

"But at the moment you're lookin' like a lady who's feelin' a little ignored. What better way to get attention than demanding it, huh? Or we can keep this between us only, if ya like. I leave that choice up to you."

"Youse got guts, kid, I'll hand ya that.

"I ain't afraid a' nobody."

Spot winced, as if he said something wrong.

"Oh, but there is a little problem I didn't mention."

She took his bait.

"What's that?"

"I've had girls say… what was it? They had a little rhyme… oh yeah--" Spot looked directly into the woman's eyes. "--Once they went Spot, they never forgot. That'll have to be your problem."

She smiled broadly at him, a flicker of mischief coming to her eyes.

"I'll make a note of it."

-

It only took one day, and Haze came looking for him for a change. War was upon Spot and his crew. He had crossed enemy lines, stolen their territory…

Spot smiled at the woman sleeping beside him. She hadn't gone home since that night.

…And the spoils were sweet.

-

"Today's the day, boys!" Spot said to the men he had gathered through the weeks. Spot stood high on his box, just outside Haze's usual assembling place by the docks. "We gonna get 'em?"

"Yeah!"

"We gonna soak 'em?"

"Yeah!"

"Are we gonna take Brooklyn as our own!"

"YEAH!"

"What are we takin'?"

"BROOKLYN!"

"What are we takin'!"

"BROOKLYN!"

An eruption of cheers arose from his small band of fifty or so. But they were a skilled fifty. They were a loyal fifty. And they were about to become more than fifty today.

Spot marched as a general into battle. The strategy was perfect. His spies had done good work for him. Today he was going to start a war… and come out a king.

-

Spot pulled back the slingshot for Haze Dickens's head.

"The cane, Haze," he demanded. "You've been a tyrant around these parts, I've heard. It's time for a new ruler of Brooklyn. Now hand me over that scepter."

"BROOKLYN!" his men shouted all around, calling war cries and doing victory dances. Haze was already beat.

"Ya told me to come find ya if I wanted the stick back," Spot said with a smirk. "And so I have. So it's time for youse to give it over."

"Youse amaze me, little man," Haze said. "How's a runt like youse, manage all a' this?"

Haze looked around in wonder.

"I guess some people are born to conquer, and some to be conquered. Hand over the cane, Dickens."

"Over my dead body," Haze said, kicking Spot in the shin as hard as he could… which was very hard indeed.

"Over your dead body?" Spot grunted in pain. "Alright… if that's what you want…" Spot stood up and ignored the pain, recovering quickly when Haze tried to run.

"Come back here!" Spot yelled, chasing him across the piers. The fog made it hard to see, but Spot just followed the pier on.

It was then he realized where Haze was heading. He was going to the bridge. He heard Woodsy chasing behind him, along with many other steps from the rest of his gang.

Spot had stamina, built up from who knows where, but he was gaining on Haze.

Near the middle of the bridge, he caught Haze's shirt, and dragged him to the ground.

Spot grasped Haze's collar in his hand, and cocked his fist.

"No!" Haze said. "Don't hit me!"

Spot grabbed the cane from Haze grip, and stood up.

"You've been dethroned, ya lazy hotshot. Get outta here."

Haze nodded in fear, so Spot decided his work here was done. He turned back to his men.

"Let's go, fella's. I think we--"

Spot turned and grabbed Haze's fist in midair, catching it before it connected with Spot's head. Haze's eyes bugged in surprise at Spot's reflexes.

"What do ya think you're still doin'?" Spot said, crushing Haze's fist in his grip as Haze whimpered in pain. "You've been beat, idiot. Doncha have enough sense to know that?"

With Haze's free hand, he swung. Spot hadn't seen it coming like he had with the first, and it connected with his temple hard. So hard it knocked him to the ground.

Then Haze proceeded to kick him while he was down. After the third or so time, Spot grabbed his boot and lifted, making him trip.

Then they both stood with clenched fists, ready to face off.

"Heard youse lost that girl youse saved from us," Haze taunted. "Never found her, did ya?"

Spot's heart stopped.

"Where is she?" Spot demanded as they began to circle.

"Like I know, stupid," he replied. "There's plenty a' girls around here to keep me company, so I don't needs to be goin' after the enemy's little tootsie."

"Which is more than I could say for myself…" Spot replied with a fake-apologetic look.

"Abigail's makes a pretty warm bedmate though, if you catch my drift…"

Haze's face fell to rage, which was priceless. But he fought back even harder.

"Then that makes us even then…" Haze said evilly, complete with a harsh glare.

Spot took a moment to realize what Haze was trying to say, and his own expression fell to equal fury once he figured it out. The little piece of slime

In his anger, Spot ran to him suddenly, grabbing his shirt and pulling him close to his face.

"Where is she?"

"I ain't tellin' youse, ya little runt."

Spot yelled in anger, scaring his boys, and charged at Haze. Haze grabbed him easily and kneed him in the stomach. Spot's friend winced in sympathy for him.

Okay, so maybe Haze wasn't as lazy and defenseless as Spot had first thought.

So he tried again.

But this time, he tried going left. Haze was ready for that too. He grabbed Spot's arm and flung his fist for Spot's head again. But Spot ducked under him just in time, and grabbed Haze's calf with his foot and made them both fall to the ground.

Before Haze could recover, Spot had him flipped on his back, and twisted Haze's arm as far as he could put it. Haze howled in pain, and tried hard to duck out of it, but Spot had a firm grip. Spot dragged him over to the bridge's edge, and leaned Haze over just enough to look down at the distant water below.

"Where IS she!"

"Don't kill me, hey! I ain't never done anythin' to youse!"

"Where!"

"Just let me up, I'm beggin' ya!"

"Spot!" Woodsy called as the others caught up to see the end of the fight. "What're ya doin'?"

Spot responded by leaning Haze farther out.

"Answer me!" Spot demanded.

"I don't know, I swear! I just found her one day when she was walking somewhere…"

"Then what rich lady in Manhattan has the initials 'A.G.'?"

Haze looked over his shoulder, and gulped.

"Alright… there's a rich broad in Manhattan, a lady named Agnes Gray."

"Who is she?" Spot demanded more information. A place. He needed a place.

"They say she takes in abandoned goils and smartens them up and stuff. Gives 'em nice clothes and things, treats them real nice then marries 'em off."

Spot took this all in for a moment. His heart lurched with a new hope. Cat was fine. She was being taken care of. Probably better off then she ever would have been with him. It was a comforting thought.

"Where is this place?"

"In Manhattan. Near the World distribution office. That's all I knows, I swear!"

"You go outta Brooklyn," Spot commanded him in a low growl. "I ain't never wanna see your ugly face around these parts again, hear?"

He just howled in pain, and Spot heard something snap in his arm. He had broken it. In an effort to relieve some of the pain, Haze tried to duck out of Spot's hold, and succeeded.

But he didn't realize Spot was the only thing holding him up.

Spot watch the old King fall into the water. The second man Spot had thrown off a bridge. The other Newsies watched in awe as Haze Dickens hit the water, but Spot didn't stick around to watch.

He had to find an old lady to find. And this time, he knew her name.

-

"And then he told me," Jack went on. "'Jack, I'm gonna rule this here town."

The others laughed.

"What's he gonna do," Kid Blink chuckled with them. "Just grab a few hands and storm the kings castle?"

"Heya, Haze," Racetrack chimed in. "Howzit floatin'? By the way, can I have Brooklyn, please?"

Another burst of laughter.

"Heya Jack," Crutchy said, hobbling on over to Jack as fast as he could. "Did ya get a load a' page three?"

"What about it?" Jack wondered, then flipped his own paper he had just bought to the page Crutchy had directed.

"Body Found On Brooklyn Harbor"

"What in the world?" Jack said in disbelief, leaning in with interest.

Yesterday local fisherman recovered the body of a young boy off of the Brooklyn harbor, believed to be a casualty of a riot incited on the Brooklyn Bridge the day before. The body was identified to be Harry "Haze" Dickens, a leader of many local street gangs in the Brooklyn area…

"Looks like the twerp made a name for himself," Jack commented. "Well, I'll be damned."

"Yeah," Mush said with a shudder. "Glad that kid didn't pick a fight with me. Your nose still hurt, Jack?"

"Shut up," Jack snapped.

"Holy new king a' Brooklyn," Racetrack muttered, reading the article in his own paper.

After he spoke those words, all the newsies around took off their hats and placed them on their hearts.

"Long live the king," they said together.

-

Please review… Anything you have to say is appreciated. Thanks!
Signed,
--RedRogue