No Rooftops...
Author's Note: Due to the dry spell, I am going to be posting this section and one more before the week's end!
Even candlelight flickered peacefully in the vastness of the west and in the quiet darkness of the night a city boy might believe the flames crackled loudly. Spot Conlon laid rigidly still in a tiny cot against the wall, in a room that was cramp enough to remind him of home. His eyes were closed and he was pretending to sleep but anyone who knew the man would know Spot Conlon was restless in his stillness. The burning candle distracted him from sleep as the light danced upon his closed eyelids. He could feel the heavy breathing of Jack Kelly not more than three feet away from him.
Spot was itching to smoke, calm his nerves enough to sleep. But he couldn't smoke inside this tiny room, the store keeper's wife would throw him out so fast it'd remind him of a swift kick from Critter O'Connell himself. For the third time in one evening Spot cursed the western landscape for it's stout buildings without fire escapes and no access to the rooftops. It was a strange thing to miss, rooftops but Spot Conlon itched for the familiarity of standing atop a building. A place above everything else, a place where he could look down upon a city and smoke to his heart content. Spot's hand twitched and he huffed out a loud sigh.
"We could open the window." Jack whispered. Spot let his eyes pop open enough to glare at the back of Jack Kelly's head. After living an entire lifetime with one another, it was hard not to be completely aware of each other's tendencies.
"You making your own flicker picture over there with that infernal candle?" Spot demanded in a harsh whisper. The way Jack's shoulders popped let Spot know the other man was laughing at his annoyance. Only Kelly ever laughed at Spot Conlon, well Kelly and a particular Kai.
"I never thought about how often I escaped up to the roof, to think." Jack shrugged before turning around to stare at his oldest friend.
David Jacobs stifled a half snore before throwing his arm over the side of his cot. David was the only one of the three of them that ever slept peacefully, a byproduct of not growing up on the streets. Jack and Spot could never shake the need to sleep with one eye open and the readiness to run at a moment's notice.
"Why don't you get into bed, close your eyes and pretend to be on the rooftops Kelly." Spot sighed annoyed he had to give such ridiculous advice.
"Trying to write a letter." Jack shrugged sheepishly.
"Do you think they missed us at the wedding?" Spot asked careful to stare at the ceiling and not at the distorted hope on Jack's face.
"Yes." Jack nodded turning away from Spot again. They were never ones to need to have heart to heart discussions facing each other. It was easier to protect themselves from potential threats if they were looking away from each other when speaking.
"You know, Critter might not be letting her get your letters." Spot commented nonchalantly. It was am attempt to make his friend feel better about the lack of communication from the girl that held his heart. In the four months since they had left New York, Jack had written Laces a letter every two weeks. He had received only two in return. Two shared letters to him and Spot. It was easy to blame the few letters on the lack of a permanent location as the longest place the men had stayed was in the town on the border of New Mexico and Oklahoma. Both letters Laces had sent arrived in the small town where Jack Kelly had left a broken-hearted schoolgirl with a crush behind. Adding to his sense of villainous, it had been Samantha Timbers who had forwarded his second letter from Laces to the tiny train stop in Texas where the men had stopped for two weeks.
"That's why I send them to different people." Jack sighed knowingly. Jack was well aware of Critter O'Connell's methods and had anticipated his communications being blocked. He sent letters to several friends throughout the city. Sometimes to Racetrack Higgins at Irving Hall, other times to Skittery at the Hudson Theater, or still other times to Peach in Midtown. Rarely did Jack address a letter to the same place. Fortunately he still had many friends. Old acquaintances would find ways to deliver his letters. There was no doubt his thoughts would reach the hands of his girl.
"What have you been writing to her?" Spot rested his hand over his mouth, breathing through his fingers in an attempt to trick his mind into believing a cigarette laid between them.
"Just telling her what the west is like…" Jack started tapping the clunky pencil against the desk.
"Telling her a tale are you, Kelly?" Spot mocked.
"Sometimes I tell her it's nothing like Western Jim made me believe it would be." Jack defended.
"Don't want her to think you're too happy." Spot suggested.
"I am sure to tell her how grumpy you are about everything. Whine is all Conlon does." Jack playfully pretended to write down the phrase.
"You tell her we miss her?" Spot demanded.
"I tell her we'll come back sooner than she knows." Jack sighed, feeling guilty about his improving of the truth.
"Maybe all those dime novels were useful after all." Spot yawned.
"We are going to be here for at least a few months." Jack stated decisively.
"We will get to Santa Fe sooner than you know." Spot chuckled as he closed his eyes. There was silence again between the two men but the light still danced.
"Ask her to tell us about the wedding, and ask her if that idiot Matt has made sure Brooklyn is still the toughest." Spot grumbled before flipping around to have his back to the light. Not long after, the pencil scratching started and Spot found himself wishing Laces would be over her resentment enough to finally write them a proper response.
Jack began writing about his encounter with the newsboy of Silver City from the day before. Glancing up every other sentence to lament the lack of a rooftop escape again. Never once guessing how much he had in common with the lady of society Audrey Alexander Kai.