Author's Note: Thank you so very much for the reviews on the first chapter. I wasn't sure if people were going to like it, but the comments you guys left made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside :) So, here is the following chapter. I decided to marry of Spot to an original character I created for the purposes of this story. But, as the summary says, he gets married on a whim. And, as Spot is a womanizer, he is definitely not going to just settle down with one woman. He just thinks he will right now. This chapter is still setting the stage for what will happen. I haven't really gotten to the story yet. But it's coming... and I'll either need characters or just throw them in (coughRaecough). More information on that in the next chapter, though.
Disclaimer: Spot Conlon, as he is a character from the 1992 live action musical, Newsies, is the property of Disney. Anyone else mentioned in this fiction will be the creative property of me.
--
Ballad of the Street Rat
06.29.06
Spot Conlon is the most notorious street rat in all of New York. A womanizer, a thief, a murderer, Conlon can do no wrong.
That is, until he, on a whim, marries and begins a cycle of events that will change the city forever.
--
The most terrible poverty is loneliness, and the feeling of being unloved. – Mother Teresa
--
Part I
If you did not know Spot Conlon personally, odds are that you would never recognize him if you, by chance, met him on the street. He was handsome – God, yes, was he handsome – but not every good looking man was Spot Conlon. He was shorter than the normal man, with smoother features than one would suggest a street rat possessed. When he was celebrating his twenty-third birthday early that spring, one would assume the young man – if they didn't know any better – was still in his teens.
Despite his young appearance – or maybe because of it – Spot Conlon normally went unnoticed when he patrolled the streets of Brooklyn. He knew better than to dress in his expensive and flashy clothes; as much as he adored the attention, his own sense of self-preservation curtailed his extravagance. And, as long as he kept his fair head down – hair bleached from too many hours sitting outside in the New York sun – and hid his eyes, no one noticed that he was, indeed, the infamous Spot Conlon.
It was his eyes, a beautiful set of cyan eyes that seemed to pierce straight through to the heart of anyone who made contact with them, which marked his as known to anyone who knew the lore. It was said, amongst the rabble and the thieves of the city, that one look into Spot Conlon's notable eyes and you belonged to him. Needless to say, many of the women desired one glimpse, if only to have some tie to the man. It was no wonder that the he kept his eyes shielded by pulling a worn grey cap down.
And it was his eyes that, accidentally, garnered the attention of Katie White, youngest child of the scoundrel, Harold White. Harold White was a lawyer with a substantial fortune; he was, however, notorious for running after young girls and getting into fights with men half his age. He had two children: Katherine, aged nineteen, and Walt, aged twenty-six, with Marie Marshall-White, a banker's daughter who died following Katie's birth. He never remarried, preferring to accompany himself with whores and, when feeling respectable, actresses.
After finishing her last year in a Massachusetts boarding school, Miss Norville's School for Young Women, Katie White returned to live with her father and older brother in their house in Brooklyn. With her long dark blonde hair done up in pin-curls, her slender body fit inside a fancily embroidered white gown, and her bright green eyes, Katie appeared to be an angel descending among the hustle and bustle of the city.
Katie's train rolled in on the first of June, in the year 1906. The conductor, a young man who had eagerly tried to catch her eye during the long ride south, offered his arm to her; Katie graciously accepted his offer, taking his arm with her right, while carrying her small bag with her left. The rest of her luggage would be sent separately at the school's leisure. But that was alright, the clothes one wore in Massachusetts was quite different from the sort one wore in Brooklyn.
With a demure smile, Katie thanked the young man for his help. He didn't seem to want to leave her side but, when the whistle blew, he bowed his head and, sadly, retook his post just inside the train.
"Kate? Katie! Over here!"
Shielding her eyes, Katie had looked around for the source of the voice that called for her. She knew right away it would be her brother coming to call for her; he had sent her a telegram early last week that he would be retrieving her from the train station on the first of June. She was quite excited to see her older brother. She had missed Walt something awful during the school term.
But, before she saw the form of her tall and dark brother, her eyes made contact with a shorter man. It was a chance meeting and for just one second, it was as if they were the only two people in the world. His eyes were just that powerful. And, in that second, the man, leaning nonchalantly against a pillar off to her right, smirked; he had seen her, too.
Then Walt appeared, calling out to her again. "Katie White!" This time his sister saw him and hurried to his side. Once the strong arms of her brother were wrapped around her trim waist, swinging her around gaily, all thoughts of the enchanting stranger fled from her mind.
--
Spot Conlon had gone down to the train yards to intercept a package that day, the first of June, in 1906. He had assumed that it would be an easy score; some big shot would be carrying a case full of crisp one-hundred dollar bills. A quick bump and one of his boys would grab the bag. Easy pickings.
That was before he saw her. He was off to the side, waiting for his target, when he spied her coming off of the train. She was pretty – very pretty – but it wasn't her looks that caught his attention. He was Spot Conlon; he had had every girl inside his bed, many much more beautiful than this girl. It was the way she carried herself that drew his gaze.
She was on the average size for a girl, though Spot assumed much of her height was due to fancy heeled shoes that were the fashion. Her back was straight, and her head was held high; she walked as if she belonged in Brooklyn, yet kept her eyes down in a sign of timidity. There was a singular word that he felt described this girl: innocence.
He was looking her up and down when, all of a sudden, she glanced his way. Their eyes locked and he could almost feel the blush that stained her porcelain cheeks. He did what Spot Conlon normally did in such a situation – he smirked.
Then a tall, broad man, a few years older than Spot, came hurrying towards her. "Katie White!" he hollered and Spot, immediately, tucked that bit of information away. The girl had a name. He let his eyes follow her for another moment before, out of the corner of his right eye, he spied his target. He slowly raised one hand to scratch his nose. A small boy on the other side of the yard mimicked the gesture. And then they were off.
--
Later that night, long after he had given his helper a three percent cut of his profits from the earlier job, Spot turned his thoughts back to the girl he had seen at the yards. Now, he knew he could have any women in the city: married, single or widowed. Most never knew his name; they only regarded him as their 'knight in shining armor' come to carry them away from a dull and hard life. And he did – until he ventured onward to another conquest.
But, lately, Spot wasn't sure that was enough. He wanted someone to share his bed with and not only for one night. He wanted a wife.
And he was sure that this Katie White would make a fine wife.
It was a lot easier than one would guess to find the girl; there were not too many White's living in Brooklyn and, since she had a man waiting for him at the station, he figured he would start in Brooklyn. Spot had no worries about the man he saw at the station. Competition or not, rival suitor or no, Spot knew he would be victorious.
Spot sent one of his younger runners to scout out any of the White's they knew of. The first one happened to be the lawyer, Harold White. When Scotty arrived at the White's house, he spied a girl sitting on the front porch that matched Spot's description perfectly. She was alone and when Scotty, sneaking up quietly beside her so that she wouldn't run in the house, appeared by her side, she confirmed his suspicion by saying that her name was Katherine White. She looked confused that the street urchin had come to her house; most liked to holler obscenities from across the street, never daring to get too close in case a cop was nearby.
Scotty had removed his hat then, in a sign of good intentions. He told the girl that there was a man he knew who was interested in her; would she agree to a meeting? Katie laughed him away before escaping inside her home.
Spot, now that he knew where to find the girl, rewarded Scotty with a dollar before heading down to the White's house himself. Arrogantly, he knocked on the door and was surprised when the girl herself opened the door. He could tell that she recognized him; at the very least, she opened the door.
So, it was on the first of June, of 1906, that Spot Conlon began to court Katie White. The pair was secretive; no one was aware that they were seeing each other except them. Spot insisted that it was exciting this way. Katie knew it was because the fling would never last.
But, on the third of July, of 1906, amidst two witnesses – a pair of bums they offered a quarter apiece to – and a bribed judge, Liam 'Spot' Conlon took Katherine 'Katie' White to be his wife. When the girl, at last, gave her new husband his first kiss from her chaste lips, Spot felt that the long courting time would be worth it.
He took her gloved hand in his callused one as he left City Hall and began to lead her back to their now-shared home in Brooklyn. He spied one of his boys rolling dice on a corner alley and winked. He mouthed the single word: "wife" before turning his attention solely on Katie. He was eager to get her into his bed at last. Or, at least, that's what his he told himself. Now that he had made her his legal wife, he denied his earlier wants and desires of finding a suitable one.
It was later, as Spot Conlon led his new bride, Mrs. Katie Conlon, inside his apartment, he knew that as long as she was by his side, he would never be poor again.
