Chapter Four: Things've Changed
A lone person in a bowler hat and glasses stood on the corner of 1st Street, which, to some, was known as Newsies Street or Lodging House Street because of the large newsboys (and newsgirls) lodging house that stood directly in the center of the street.
If you were to talk to the lone person, you would find a few things about him quite peculiar. For one, he was not from around Colorado Springs, nor was he even from Colorado. Another odd thing you'd find was his accent. Most people wouldn't be able to place it, as they hadn't been far enough east, but it was from New York. However, no one stopped to talk to the stranger, and so he stood quietly in his own thoughts as he awaited an old friend.
A clock off in the distance struck 10, and he looked up, hoping to see her walking towards him, but she was nowhere in sight. He sighed and looked down at his feet, scuffing his boots in the dirt. He'd wait for a few more minutes, but if she didn't show soon, then it meant she wasn't coming at all.
As the clock struck the quarter hour, he decided to give up. She wasn't going to meet him. Probley best... he thought. Folding up the article he had been holding, he stuck it in his pocket and began to walk away.
"Wells, dat's a little rude if yas ask me... Not even a 'hello' foah da poisen ya asked ta meet ya heah?" a voice said over his shoulder. Spinning around, he came face-to-face with the grin of Criss-Cross Kat Conlon. The younger girl spat into her palm and held her hand out to him, saying, "Wells, if I'se gonna pick one a da Manhattan boys ta be out heah in da west, you'se'd be da last one on me list...Wells, second ta last. Crutchy'd be last."
Specs laughed, spat into his own palm, and then shook her hand. "I'se never thought about dat," he responded.
"Ya t'ink about da strangest t'ings when you'se in a new place all on yer own," Criss-Cross said a little sadly.
"I'se wouldn't know..." Specs said, his tone apologetic.
"Wells, what's we'se waitin' foah? Yer note said yas had somethin' ta tells me."
Specs suddenly felt bad about what he was about to say. Criss-Cross seemed to be already a little sad, but it looked like she was doing good in Colorado. But what he had to say would completely upset both her and her current good life. "Ah, it's can wait. So'se, how's ya likin' it heah?"
"Specs...Please...Jus' go ahead an' tell me..." Criss-Cross said sternly. She perched herself on a barrel that sat on the edge of the road and gave him a look that he'd only ever seen once before, on the face ofthe Brooklyn newsie, Spot Conlon, who was also her brother. For a second Specs swore he was seeing the ghost of Spot, the two looked so alike, and then he became depressed when he noticed she had the cane with her.
"Wells...It's a good thing you'se already sittin' down, cuz what I'se gots ta tell ya is upsettin'. See's things've changed in New Yawk, an' well, Triggah Jones's taken ovah Queens."
"I'se already know dat. 'E took ovah Queens back when I'se ten. Dat's why I'se been runnin' foah 4 yeahs."
"It's not jus' Queens. 'E's taken ovah Brooklyn."
"What! Spot'd nevah give up Brooklyn! 'E'd nevah loose 'is pride an' joy ta Triggah. 'E'd fight 'til 'e died foah dat little piece a heaven. You'se gotta be lyin'!"
"Dat's jus' it d'ough. Spot an' da Brooklyn boys put up a good fight. But da Bronx was fightin' wit' Queens, an' Jack refused ta bring Manhattan inta it. An', wells..."
"Wells what?"
"Spot's dead..."
Criss-Cross's eyes grew wide in disbelief, and a look of pure grief passed over her face. "D-d-dead?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. Specs nodded and gave her a sympathetic look. "H-how?" she asked, her voice cracking with sorrow. She'd loved Spot, even though he'd run her out of New York. He'd always been her brother. And now he was dead? A coise... she thought, that's why I'se got 'is cane now. 'E nevah woulda pawted wit' it in life...
"Triggah's hand we'se thinkin'," Specs replied, his voice sympathetic, yet there was anger at Trigger Jones in it too.
Criss-Cross nodded and looked down at the ground, fighting back both a scream, and tears. How could dis have happened? she thought, How could 'e be dead? How could everythin' have changed so drastically? And why did dey send Specs out heah ta tell me'se? It jus' doesn' make sense...
"Why'd ya come out heah an' tell me'se?" she asked, voicing her thoughts.
"Wells..." Specs wasn't exactly sure why he'd been sent to tell Kat. Other than to let her know, and to try to persuade her to come back to New York. It'd been Jack who had sent him out here, and Specs had just figured it was because he cared about Criss-Cross being Spot's younger sister and wanted her to know. "I'se jus' came ta let ya know. An', wells, ta ask yas ta come back ta New Yawk with me. Jack wants ta see yas, an' talk with yas. 'E wants ta make shoah yer okay. 'E cares about yas a lot."
Criss-Cross nodded. She'd been expecting that response. But all she said in response was, "I'se got ta get back ta da lodgin' house. Night." And with that she got off the barrel and walked back to the lodging house, tears in her eyes, and a heavy heart and mind.
A/N: Hey. Okay. This is all I'm gonna post for today. Though, I've already gotten up through chapter 10 written up. Anyway, please review!