Chapter 6:

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It was a rainy night that fateful evening. The piano player was dancing his fingers across the keys in a lively tune, keeping the atmosphere lighthearted. I served drinks to the men as naturally as breathing, smiling at their wandering eyes and winking at their flattery. It was all acting to me, playing the part, all a preparation for the stage… the singing, the drama, and the big finale.

Then he walked in. My 'regular', Mr. Snyder.

Now, since our teahouse had recently upped its social class and status, there was a lot less actual lovemaking involved, which suited me fine. What this regular came to see was the show, and for me to sit beside him and serve him drinks, and to whisper lies into his ear with my now over-accentuated Chinese enunciations.

Soon it was time to perform. I had spent all week learning a particular dance popular with the Americans called the Can-Can, and was all to ready for my first stage performance. I graciously took my leave of the Warden, and went backstage to change.

Tonight was the night. The warden had paid quite a lovely bit of money to claim for the first time. Tonight… was the fateful night. It had been at least a year since I had last been bedded, and I had to admit I was nervous that I was out of practice.

Once in my dress, I checked the storage closet for Mei-Li. She was happily playing inside with a new straw/mop doll creation she had made, a single candle burning on the floor.

My angel. My best friend. I picked her up and gave her a hug, commanding her to stay her like a good girl.

"See mommy dance?" she asked sweetly.

"No, dearest," I said, setting her back down on the floor. "This isn't rehearsal—this is the real thing, so you have to stay here until I say you can come out. Charlotte will be by later to give you supper and play with you while I work. I'll come back later tonight, though, I promise."

She agreed like the perfect child she was. After that, I was called to stage.

The Can-Can was tiring and fast paced, but my kicks were splendid since I was quite limber. My good friend Anne sang a beautiful chorus, a lead role in our play that I vowed to achieve soon. But during the show, something caught my eye.

Or rather, someone.

It was him. The Brooklynite. Spot Conlon himself.

He had just entered through the dark doorway, a cigarette in his lips and his trademark cane slung on his hip. He was dressed differently, more groomed; gone was the newsie hat, and the ratty shirt and in it's place slacks and slicked-back hair. Obviously he had not randomly wandered off the street. He had planned this.

He seemed a little uncertain at first, like he felt out of place, but after a moment or so his stable confidence returned full force, and he helped himself to a seat. One of our girls came and offered him a drink, and he took it, passing her a tip and sending her off without allowing her to thank him properly.

His eyes were fixed on the show, and though I knew he must recognize me up here, he showed no outward indication of this.

I poured my heart out into my performance, dancing and singing like no rehearsal could compare. Head Maid even seemed pleased.

I directed most of my attention through the chaotic dance to Mr. Snyder, who was the one I needed to worry about tonight. He was boosting my career, surely, and I had make sure he knew that his investment was worth it. It was certainly hard to force through my distraction, knowing that the handsome newsie had found his way here and thus plagued my head with questions. Why was he here? Could he really be here to see me? Perhaps he had seen the posters that bragged of tonight's debut. Or perhaps not.

For whatever reason he was here, he was making me lose my focus. Soon even the warden grew curious of what was drawing my attentions away from him.

That's when trouble began to brew. His eyes locked onto the boy's, and he looked at him with narrowed eyes, probably wondering where he had seen him before. Because of Spot's groomed look, he must've looked quite different than how the warden saw him, and so it took several moments for the warden to try and figure it out.

I put two-and-two together before Mr. Snyder could. This man was the Warden of the Refuge. Spot was a notorious leader of Brooklyn. Somehow, I sensed that the two should not co-mingle.

In an act of rescue, I leaned off the small stage to direct the warden's gaze back to me. I winked flirtatiously, and began to ride up my skirt to show him a little more leg. It did the job.

As I danced for the older man, I caught Spot's gaze and motioned with my head to the stairs to the right. Finally sighting the man I was dancing for, he got it quickly, and ducked through the closest door to him, which happened to be the door to backstage.

Soon, the song ended, and I leaned to Mr. Snyder's ear telling him to wait for me upstairs.

"Let me change into something more suiting to the occasion," I said suggestively. "And I'll be along soon."

The man's piercing gaze fell to my chest, then back to my eyes. He hungrily agreed, but strongly hinted that he wasn't the most patient man.

After that I quickly headed backstage, where Spot was waiting by the door, leaning against its frame and playing with a small marble between his fingers. Again, he acted as if it was exactly where he belonged.

"Thanks for the tip, Jia-Li," he said smoothly. The other girls, finally noticing there was a man in their midst, began to squeal and scream. I shushed them immediately.

"He is a friend!" I explained to them.

"Am I?" he said with pleased surprise.

"You know you can't have a man friend in this place!" Anne hissed at me. The other girls seemed to have the same thought in their heads.

"The warden would've arrested him if I didn't," I replied. "I didn't want to make a scene on our debut night, see?"

"Well, get rid of him," Anne insisted.

"Or better yet," said a redhead named Margaret. She was one of us who truly enjoyed her work, and she stepped forward with a swagger, scanning Spot up and down seductively. "Allow me to take care of him."

Spot put his marble back in his pocket and stood up straight. I was about to interfere, but Spot spoke first.

"I don't have any money," Spot informed her.

"Who said anything about money, handsome?" she replied huskily. I found myself immediately enraged by her audacity.

"Meg," I stepped between them. "He has made it very clear to me that he doesn't like whores. Just leave him alone."

"Gee," Spot said. "I wonder what I'm doin' in a whorehouse then. I must be lost."

I turned around and looked at him in wonder and confusion at his change of heart.

Suddenly a hand grabbed me and jerked me back around. It was Charlotte. The same Charlotte who was supposed to me looking after my Mei-Li.

"Charlie—what are you doing here?" I demanded.

"Mei's gone," she said breathlessly.

"What?" I said in shock. "Where is she?"

"I don't know—some guy came in the storage closet and then ran off with her. I'm sorry—I tried to stop him, but--"

I saw Spot grab a hold of his cane.

"Which way did he go?" he demanded. Charlotte, just realizing he was standing there, was startled for a moment.

"Who are--?" she began, but was interrupted once more.

"Which WAY did he GO?" Spot forcefully asked again.

"Out the back door!" she answered fearfully. I grabbed Spot's hand and led him through the girls.

"Come, I'll show you," I said worriedly.

"Jade-- wait!" Anne protested, grabbing my wrist to stop me. "What about the warden?"

I bit my lip, torn between my heart and duty for only a moment.

"This is just little more important, Anne. Cover for me?"

With that I rushed out with Spot, running to the back door, still fully in costume, but I didn't care. There was only one thing on my mind, and that was my little girl.

"Hey, Jia-Li," Spot said as we ran. "How old are you?"

"My name is Jade," I said anxiously as my eyes scanned the empty night streets fruitlessly. "And why do you ask?"

"You seem a little young to have a kid-- I just wondered."

"I'm eighteen, and you?"

"Same," he replied.

My heart was in utter pain, my stomach in knots, fearing for my Mei. My head couldn't wrap around the situation. Why would someone come for Mei? How would they know where I was hiding her?

"Jade!" I heard a voice behind me call. I turned around to see Anne chasing after us. "Wait!"

"Anne, what is it?" I asked breathlessly. "You're supposed to be covering for me!"

"It's no use," Anne explained. "Meg just told us that she tattled on you to Head Maid. They had Mei taken away to a home… She's gone, Jade."

My chest seemed to cave in. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I could barely breathe.

"Jade," Anne went on. "You'd better get back to Snyder, before you get in any more trouble."

I looked to Spot, almost instinctively. He was frowning, as usual, and he put his cane back into his belt loop with a sigh.

"Snyder, huh?" he said haughtily. "Now I'm really glad I didn't have my way with ya. I wouldn't want to touch anythin' that crooked ol' man has."

His words cut deep. He had a way of doing that very easily. It only added to my already harsh pain.

I watched him walk off in large strides into the foggy night. More than anything, I wished he would come back.

Scratch that— more than anything, I wanted to go with him.

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Signed,
--RedRogue