It was still mid-morning, but it was already hot. It was the kind of heat that settled along the ground, cooking you from the feet up.
Scraps had started a card game in the shade of the peeling, white-washed warehouse. Blue was in the water beneath the pier, like many of the other boys. It was one of the only sure-fire ways they knew to beat the heat.
Spot Conlon stared out over the East River from his perch high atop the wooden scaffolding that rose above the dock. He liked to be up high. He liked to see things before they were coming. He was always wary.
"Hey Spot."
"Heya Mitts."
Mitts leaned up against the scaffolding and crossed his arms on his chest. There was something about his attitude, his stance and the smirk on his face. He had the air of a boy cradling a bombshell.
"What'cha got?"
Mitts smirked, putting off the moment of telling Spot from second to second. Mostly, because he knew it annoyed Spot and there was just something about doing it that Mitts liked. Spot never let anyone else get away with it and Mitts knew just how to hold back long enough to irk him, but not make him angry.
"Dere's an old friend comin' ta see ya."
Spot knit his eyebrows at the vague news.
"What d'ya mean, 'old friend'?"
"Well, we only gots a coupla a dem left, don't we?" Mitts said knowing he was further provoking Spot. "See for yaself though."
He pointed. Far out along the dock, three figures were making their way down it.
"Dey're strikin' in 'Hattan. Ain't sellin' pape's. Been talkin' ta newsies all ova New York. Rallyin' dem ta tha cause."
As the three figures moved closer, he recognized the tallest one. Spot shook his head.
"He jus' can't help hisself, can he?"
It seemed as if a few more boys were recognizing him too. Spot could see a few of his boys with knitted eyebrows jerk their chins at the tall boy and ask other boys for confirmation. He could almost hear the name they were whispering to each other.
"Dey recognize him." He said softly to Mitts. "Ain't been dat long."
"Nah, dey think dey do. Dey ain't sure though." Mitts said, astutely.
"Can't have dat." Spot grinned at his friend.
"Well, if it ain't Jack-be-nimble, Jack-be-quick." He called.
He saw Jack's eyes flick up to him, still perched high atop the scaffolding.
"So ya moved up in tha world, Spot. Got a river view and everythin'?"
Spot smirked slightly as he climbed over the rail of the scaffolding and jumped the last few feet onto the pier, landing with a dull thud in front of his old friend. For the space of a second, they stared at each other.
Spot saw the grin that spread slowly across Jack's face. It was good to see that he could smile once again.
Jack saw Spot standing tall, the respect of all of Brooklyn at his back. It was exactly how he had known it would be.
They grinned at each other and shook hands.
A.N. So? What did you think? Please leave me a review and let me know!
