Chapter 19
Concerning item #5: The Key Around His Neck 13 (continued)
-
(To tune of Santa Fe)
-
So that's the man
she's meant for
Some money, a suit an' tie…
Guess that
compared to him I must look
Second rate…
So I'm not the man
she's meant for
I know I'll nevah be that way
So why ain't
I glad somebody can bless her with
Good fate?
But when I'm with
her
I am home
There is something warm about her
I will only
scream it louder by the day
But she will soon be
leavin'
And here is where I'll stay
But I can't help
wishin' to go with her
Anyway…
And we'd kiss
In
foreign lands
And we'll hold our hands togethah
In a feeling
time will nevah take away
It was a spell in that piano
and
she had me when she played
I fell for you
that much is true
Now
lady stay
How can I stand to live my life without 'er?
How
can I stand my only heart to break?
Why can't she evah just say
what she's thinkin'?
Why can't she evah swim when she's
sinkin'…?
Do I have to believe it's true love
Even
through that smile
Her eyes keep tellin' me somethin' else in
her
I swear on Heaven a-bove
Even if it ain't my
style
With every step and every breath I swear I'll make it
worth her while…
Interlude…
Now lady
stay
Don't leave me here
I want you near always to me
And
all I have's a city in my way
I ain't hidin' any
longah
And before your weddin' day
Consider me
This broken
man
All I want is just one single chance
Then I can be
Mr.
Romance…
So that's the man she's meant for
Maybe I
can be that way
Maybe I can be the man to
Make her stay…
Spot went into his lodging house that night with a heavy heart. He was lost forever to this woman. Everything around him felt empty and meaningless. He felt like he had no purpose, no future. His life was being taken away.
This little girl from so long ago… he never realized what she meant to him until she was leaving.
He recalled how many times he caught her staring back then. How many times she would blush when he spoke to her. He had his chance, and he missed it, and now she was leaving his life again.
"Spot," Griffin said, running up to him with a worried look and loss of breath. "We've been lookin' all over town for ya. Ya have to come inside; it's bad! Real bad!"
Spot looked up to him with a look of mourning, of wanting nothing better than to be left alone.
"What's bad?" he said with a sigh.
"Word on the street is that someone ratted the rally the other night out to the bulls. Someone from Brooklyn, they say."
Spot's eyes narrowed. A rat in their midst? Someone had picked the wrong night to cause trouble. More bad news for Spot was far from welcome. Griffin backed off when he saw the murder in Spot's eyes.
"I can't deal wit' this tonight," Spot said. "I'll kill the bastard."
"It gets worse," Griffin said cautiously.
"What?"
"Peg-Leg saw a wad of cash in Woods's room. He don't think he got that from sellin' papes neither. I thought I'd tell you first."
With that, Spot shoved past Griffin and stormed inside the lodging house. Now was not the time he wanted to be dealing with Brooklyn matters. He wanted to go drown his sorrow in many, many drinks. His anger rose high in annoyance, and his boys knew it. When Spot entered, it seemed all the boys became immediately alert and on edge. They sensed what was coming, for sure.
"Woods!" Spot called up the stairs. "Oh, Woodsy!" he sang ominously. "We need to chat! You had bettah haul your ass down heah!"
Spot heard a loud thumping noise, and a few more bumps. Spot wasn't stupid, so he raced up the stairs, and into Woodsy's room. He caught him just leaving to the fire escape, a large bag in hand.
"No, ya don't," Spot said as he grabbed him off the fire escape and back through the window. That is, through the window. Glass shattered and went everywhere.
"You're coming with me, Woods," Spot said, dragging him down the stairs. His men just watched in silent fear. Spot headed through the foyer and out the front door, Woodsy howling in pain on every bump.
Down the road they went, with the others following. Short Spot dragged Woodsy's tall body all the way to the docks in his rage.
"It's very unfortunate for ya," Spot explained. "That I find out about this today. I've had a really lousy day, and it's put me in a helluva mood."
"I didn't rat on everyone, I swear!"
"Ah, Woods," Spot said as they neared the end of the pier. "I didn't say what youse were dyin' for yet. But since you now remind me that both of us already know, I guess there's no need for that formality, huh?"
Spot held him over the edge of the pier.
"Luck is just abundant for youse today," Spot said with a mocking smile as he tied a rope around Woodsy's foot. "It's high tide!"
"Don't Spot!" Woodsy begged. "I didn't mean it! I was tricked, you see?"
Spot then tied the rope to a small anchor from a nearby boat.
"Lying is not one of your talents, I'm afraid," Spot admitted, staying eerily calm. "I'll tell your girl where to find ya in the morning. Ya still wit' Susan nowadays? I can't keep track…"
"Please, Spot! I'm beggin' ya! I don't wanna die!"
Woodsy's arms held onto Spot's for his dear life, as Spot held the anchor over the water.
"Just say your last words and die like a man," Spot said angrily. "You are dyin'. You have to accept that, Woods."
"Please!"
"Too late," Spot said, letting the heavy anchor go.
Woodsy clawed at the air as he fell, groping like a blind man for something to save him.
Spot didn't realize it until it was too late, but he saw Woodsy's hand gripped the key around Spot's own neck as his saving grace, but the shoelace broke and he took the key with him in his fall.
Spot's eyes grew wide in surprise. The stinking key!
Without second thought, Spot dived after Woodsy into the water. It was like a punch to the chest, the water was so cold. It hurt to open his eyes, but Spot peeked just long enough to see Woodsy sinking fast, the key still clenched in his fist.
Spot was a powerful swimmer, and caught up to him fast, feeling around for his hand. Woodsy's other hand gripped on Spot's shirt, without a promise to let go if he could help it. Spot finally was able to pry the key from his fist blindly, and relief swelled over him.
But they were still sinking. The world was dark and Spot could already feel that nagging for air. He tried to hit Woodsy, and peel his fingers off, but the grip was firm.
Finally the nagging was too much to ignore. Panic began to set in.
Finally, Spot put his right foot to Woodsy's chest, and pushed off. The white and gray plaid shirt that Mrs. Barrenger had given him so long ago ripped in two. Spot didn't stop to dwell on it, just swam as hard as he could for the surface. He could see the moonlight through the water, and knew he was close. He grew weak in the cold and air became urgent quickly. For a moment he didn't know if he would make it, then his head felt the cool night air and oxygen was taken gluttonously in long breaths.
His boys helped him out of the water and back onto the dock. Spot looked down at his hand, and his prize. The stupid key. He had just risked his life for this damn thing and he didn't even know what it was for.
But even still, he retied the ends of the shoelace together and slipped it back over his head. After all, it had brought him good luck so far…
-
"Ya still mopin', Spot?" Griffin called up to Spot on his perch.
"What do you want?" Spot called downward with annoyance. Griffin was his friend, and an even better one since Woodsy was gone, but he still knew how to try Spot's last nerve. He was probably just still new at the job of second.
Spot looked down at Griffin with wonder. Griffin was green at leading, but he was smart and had a big sense of fairness. Spot couldn't help but think that Brooklyn might be okay in Griffin's hands… A thought that was quickly passed off.
"I wanted t' show ya somethin'," Griffin explained. "Come down."
Spot hopped off, and made his way down to him.
"What is it?"
"This came wit' the papes today. It's all ovah town. Everyone's readin' it."
"Let's see it."
Griffin handed him a single piece of paper, with a large bold print on top bearing the words:
NEWSIES BANNER
Spot read this while Griffin continued to talk.
"All a' Brooklyn's in a huff about it."
"They don't like what Manhattan's doin'?"
"Naw, they don't like what Pulitzer's doin'. They want back in; can ya believe it?"
Spot frowned. This paper was not the Walking Mouth's idea, for sure. Jack was working for the newspaper, and it would only make sense that he had access to a newspaper maker. A printing press. This whole ordeal had his name all over it.
"Jack's back?" Spot asked just to be sure, frowning in deep thought.
"That's what they say," Griffin confirmed. "I told the others I'd take it up with youse."
Spot read the rest of the paper for a moment, then shoved Griffin aside. He climbed back to the top of his perch, which was the highest around, and shouted at his boys.
"You all read this?" he demanded.
They all looked to one another for a moment and mumbled amongst themselves with uncertainty.
"Yeah, Spot!" one shouted.
"You all angry again? Ready to jump back into the fight?"
This time they said it as one.
"Yeah!"
"What is the mattah with you? We's already been beat!"
"But Jack's back!" one named Tidbit shouted. "Maybe he was just spyin' on 'em!"
Spot highly doubted that, but said nothing. He looked at the Newsies Banner once more, and read the powerful words again.
Jack was back in it. Spot supposed he did have a promise to keep: as long as Jack was in this, so was he. But it wasn't so easy to trust him. In fact, going back in this strike was the last thing Spot wanted to do. He didn't need any more grief.
But the looks of firm determination on all of his boy's faces made him reason differently. If they were so willing to trust him again, then he had no choice but to agree.
"I can't believe we're doin' this again," Spot said, shaking his head in submission.
With that, his boys broke out in excited cheers and yells, as if they had already won their victory. Half were already making their way down the road, heading for the lodging house to stock up. Spot simply took up his cane, and followed.
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The good stuff is
coming up in the next chapter… We are so close to the end now, so
keep up! Please review, and give me your opinions, especially what
you think might happen in the end. Will he get Cat? Only time will
tell… What would you like to see happen?
(NOTE: It is very
likely that the opinions stated in reviews concerning ending will not
in fact change the outcome of the story. Like I said, it is already
written… not in stone, but written nonetheless.
Thanks!)
Signed,
--Redrogue
