GUYS! I'M BACK! I MISSED YOU (AND MY COMPUTER) SOOOO MUCH! As not to keep you in suspense, I returned this afternoon and typed this all up for you in like...3 hours. Then I re-read it, and edited everything a final time. Here is the next chapter, and the next will follow (It's really short and a filler, sorry) soon. (Soon as in, about, roughly, two days or less) OH! I'm babbling: READ!
I was about ready to smack someone, my day was terrible. I had only sold eleven of my twenty papes, and it was killing me. I coughed and whimpered and looked as pathetic as I could, next time I'll work a different corner. Being seen in the same place two days in a row is a killer for business. After I finally managed to sell my last few papes, I trundled over to Spot, who had finished selling his fifty an hour ago. "How was your day?" he asked.
"Don't get me started," I held up my pointer finger as a signal for silence, he chuckled and started to walk away.
"Umm, is youse comin or what? Race wants Books to be there afore it gets dark out," Spot called back over his shoulder at me.
"Oh, that's right, she's staying in Manhattan..." the thought of Lizzy being anywhere but by my side frightened and upset me. For sixteen years, since infancy, we had slept in the same room. This would be monumental for me, and her. She would be leaving to go and stay somewhere else, permanently. At least I knew she would be in Race and Blink's capable hands. I trusted them, having never actually met Jack 'Cowboy' Kelley. A tear slid down my cheek, followed by another. I caught up to Spot, who noticed my silent tears.
"You sad Books is leavin?" he asked, patting my shoulder.
"I have never been apart from her, in all my life, she's practically my sister. I'm really going to miss having her around," I said.
"I know how you feel Jane," he used my real name for the first time in weeks. That made me wonder...
"Spot, I know this is pretty random, but what's your name?" I blurted.
"Me name? It's...I don't want to tell youse. You'd laugh," he hung his head.
"Spot, I'll tell you my middle name," I ployed. He looked down at my face.
"Promise?" he asked.
"Promise," I said, spitting in my hand. He did the same and we shook on it.
"Fine, my name, if you must know, is Broghan," he blushed. I knew that name, I had learned about Irish names a long time ago, since my middle name is Irish...
"Do you know what Broghan means?" I asked.
"No," Spot said, "Do youse?"
"It means 'strong'," I smiled. Spot's eyes widened.
"Really? Well dats awfully coincidental ain't it?" he laughed. "Least now I'm not ashamed of it, since it don't mean 'daisy'," then Spot laughed. He just laughed, even I had to dry my tears and join him. "So what's your middle name, we shook on it," he said, stopping after a minute or so.
"Fine, Adelle. My name is Jane Adelle Bently. Adelle means 'noble' dumb I know," I shrugged. My name meant 'she is noble hearted' when said all together. I had learned that doing an assignment for history class.
"It's real pretty Firefly. I must say, your newsie name is much easiah," he smiled and reached for my hand. I just giggled slightly and noticed where we were going.
"What about getting Books and her things?" I asked.
"Books is meetin us at da bridge," Spot said. He was right; when we arrived she was standing there, waiting. She had packed the green dress (which I had given her) along with a nightgown she found. In the bag she carried was also a copy of Pride and Prejudice, which she had found on the floor. Apparently she had fallen asleep holding it the night we had time traveled.
Since the time travelling incident, we had both promised not to wish on any stars. It didn't frighten us very much, coming back to 1899. It just surprised us, we had both wanted to visit since we saw Newsies for the first time... and it was like a permanent vacation back in time. I could tell Spot was glad to be back in Brooklyn as well. I looked up at his face, it hadn't changed at all, still firm but gentle and his eyes were the color of blue tinted steel. It made me happy, just looking at him, he realized I was staring and looked down at me.
"You are beautiful doll, I'se one lucky guy," he smiled. Beautiful? Did he get punched a little too hard when he fought last?
"Are you feeling okay?" I held my hand to his forehead like I was checking for a fever.
"Neva betta," he said. Beautiful? With my slightly wavy blond-almost-brown hair, and plain dark blue eyes? I had freckles sprinkled across the bridge of my nose, and on my cheeks. At the moment I also had a slight sunburn that made me look like I was blushing all the time. Spot tousled my already matted hair.
"Spot, when we get back, could you direct me to a bath and a hairbrush?" I asked.
"No problem Firefly," by now we were next to Books.
"Oh Jane, I'm really going to miss you!" she said. We flung our arms around each other and started crying.
"Liz, I'll make Spot take me to visit soon, let's get you home," I wiped a tear from my eye and bravely, the two sister orphans...stepped into two separate futures.
RACE'S POV
A tall blond girl walked into the lodging house carrying a carpet bag. "So Spot, we ain't gettin Firefly?" I asked, pretending to be disappointed.
"No, youse is getting the talented and smaht Books," Spot said, nodding toward the awed blond.
"Hey Racetrack," the familiar blond-brown head of Firefly said, coming in the door.
"Heya doll, so, dis is Books," I walked over and extended my hand. Instead of shaking it, Books threw her arms around me in a lung crushing hug.
"Heya Race," she said, after releasing me.
"What's up wit youse?" I asked, straightening my hat, not at all surprised by her sudden attack. These two girls, sheesh.
"I'm moving in here, so could you tell me where I'm staying and who I'm supposed to know?" Books asked, gazing around the room.
"Suah, no problem," I turned and showed her up the stairs. With a parting wave, Firefly and Spot left for Brooklyn once more.
BOOK'S POV
I entered the slightly-more-clean-than-Brooklyn-but-not-by-much Manhattan Lodging House. Racetrack was the sole person sitting in the lobby, waiting for me. "So Spot, we ain't gettin Firefly?" he asked, feigning disappointment.
"No, youse is getting the talented and smaht Books," Spot said, nodding toward me, I was staring in awe at my new home. A place I thought was just a Disney set a few weeks ago.
"Hey Racetrack," Firefly said, coming in the door.
"Heya doll, so, dis is Books," Racetrack walked over and extending his hand. Instead of shaking it, I threw her arms around him in a lung crushing hug. I'd already met him; he probably just didn't know my name...
"Heya Race," I said, releasing him so he could take a breath.
"What's up wit youse?" he asked, straightening his black cabby cap.
"I'm moving in here, so could you tell me where I'm staying and who I'm supposed to know?" I asked, looking around the small main room one final time.
"Suah, no problem," Race turned and showed me up the stairs. With a reassuring wave, Firefly and Spot left for Brooklyn, leaving me in this strange new place.
SPOT'S POV
"So, while wese is in Manhattan, wanna meet Medda? She's-" I began.
"A friend of Jack's, I know. And I'd love to meet her," Firefly said. My mind wandered to a night several months before when Firefly, Books, and I sat on their couch and sang 'High Times Hard Times' along with the movie. I felt her put her head on my shoulder, and I casually put my arm around her.
"You really think I'm beautiful?" she asked.
"Youse are da most beautiful goil in New York," I said, smiling down at her. She just looked at me, shock written on her freckled face.
"Are you okay? Have you got ink poisoning or something like that?" she asked. I just kissed her. She pulled away, smiling once more.
"Whoevah says you ain't pretty, is a terrible liah," I said. She just smiled a little wider, and remained silent. Soon, we were standing in front of the back entrance to Irving Hall (also known as the 'Newsie Entrance') Firefly tentatively opened the oak door, and stepped inside. I followed and called out, "You heah Medda?" she knew me as one of Jack's friends. I heard her small, heeled boots clicking on the stairs before her ringed red hair made an appearance.
"Spot? Is that you?" she walked elegantly down the stairs and pinched my cheek. Firefly stifled a giggle and I shot her a look that said 'shut-up'. Medda noticed her and asked me, "Who's this?"
"Dis is me good friend Firefly, she's an actress too," Medda smiled.
"A fellow thespian!" Medda crooned. A what? I thought. Firefly whispered in my ear.
"Thespian, it's a person from the theater...like an actor or actress."
"Do you know any Shakespeare? Can you sing?" she asked Firefly.
"I know a little Shakespeare and I can sing," Firefly beamed.
"Good, come with me," Medda dragged Firefly off and I stepped outside to watch a boxing match nearby.
FIREFLY'S POV
"So, are you coming to my little soirée tomorrow night?" Medda asked me, smiling.
"Yes, but unfortunately, I don't own a decent dress," I frowned.
"Well, let me lend you one, I think I have some that you could even keep," she bounced up the stairs to a dank room filled with dresses, cloaks, capes, and costumes of all sorts. There was small closet like room to one side; I could see all the shoes and jewelry inside it. "Try this on, green is definatly your color," she threw me a grass green dress. I thanked her and walked into a dressing room. The dress was basic, with only one row of lace on the ankle-length skirt. It had lace on the sleeves, and around the throat. It fit perfectly. I stepped out, the material flowing around me; it was like wearing a green cotton cloud. Medda gasped and ran out of the room, was I that hideous? She ran back in carrying a hairbrush and several pins, "Sit here." She motioned me to sit down near a small vanity. She explained how to put my hair up in a seemingly extravagant up do. She finished and ran into another room, she returned with dainty white boots and a pearl necklace. "I have to clean out the stuff that doesn't fit eventually," she said, clasping the necklace and handing me the boots.
"Miss Medda, thank you, I really appreciate everything...but I don't want to ruin it before tomorrow. Could I borrow a bag of some sort to take it all in, I can even redo the hair myself," she smiled.
"No problem, here," she handed me a small bag and I packed everything in it. I thanked her again for her kindness.
"Let's do some acting, shall we?" she surprised me.
"Yeah, no problem!" I smiled and we walked onto the stage. After doing a little improvisation, we sang a couple songs.
"You have the definite makings of an actress darling," Medda smiled.
"Really? Thanks, it's nice to hear that from a professional!" I blushed.
"Yes, you'll be fabulous someday! So, who's arm will you be arriving on tomorrow night?" she asked.
"SpotConlon's" I mumbled.
"Whose darlin'?" she asked again, leaning closer.
"Spot Conlon's," I said more clearly.
"That little Irish spitfire from Brooklyn?" she cocked her head to the side, making the red curls tremble.
"Yes, that one," I smiled inwardly at her description.
"You're walking all the way from Brooklyn? You'll ruin the hem of that pretty dress!" Medda gawked. "I have an idea, I'll send my carriage around for you, it's just small and black, a two person carriage. You two will be the talk of the night! I am so clever," she said mainly to herself. A carriage? Spot and I will arrive in style, and preferably…still clean! I thought to myself. Just then I heard Spot walk into the Hall, "Youse deah Firefly? Wese gotta head home soon," he called.
"Coming," I shouted, and then I turned to face Medda. "Thank you for the dress and the shoes, and for everything! You are truly kind." With that, I left with Spot back to Brooklyn. The only thing I feared was the empty bunkroom waiting for me there, the place where my dear Lizzy should be.
BACK IN BROOKLYN THE NEXT MORNING
"Top o' the mornin Spot," I said in my fake Irish accent.
"Bheannaigh sé dom;" He said.
"Cliste sracadh," I said, not to be outdone.
"You speak Gaelic?" he asked.
"A little," I smiled teasingly before heading to my selling spot with my twenty papes. I had time to sell a few papers, but not too many. I only needed the money for board and food, so I sold them in a hurry. I ran back to the bunkroom and locked the door behind me. It was around noon; seeing as I had stopped on the way back and bought a loaf of bread from a street vendor. I crammed some down my throat before slipping into the abandoned girl's washroom. I located some soap and water, pumping it, cold, into a small metal tub. It made me realize why Spot said, "A porcelain tub wit boilin' watah," in the song 'King Of New York', everything here is cold. I adjusted the door so that no one could open it and surprise me, and I took a short bath. I washed my face, feet, and hair…using a stolen razor to do my armpits and legs (carefully). I hid that razor in the girl's washroom drawer for future use. After my hair was brushed out, I slipped into my old Newsie pajamas and ate some more of the bread. No one was coming in this room until I was ready to go to Medda's party, I wanted to surprise Spot. I could hear the other newsies come in and clean themselves up. I heard Spot's voice demanding to know where I was…"In my room Spotty," I called. I knew he hated it when I called him that in front of his newsies…
"Why?" he asked, now in front of my door. I walked up to it.
"Because, Mr. Overprotective, I need to get ready for this party myself. I'd hope you'd be clean as well," I said in my most haughty 'I'm-An-Important-Lady' voice. Spot's sigh of defeat could be heard through the inch of wood, and the sound of his black shoes retreating to the washroom.
I finished doing up my hair, and got into the green dress and white shoes. I ushered Drop into my room to help with my necklace and any final adjustments to my appearance. I found a small jar of powder in the bottom of the old chest, and dabbed a bit on my face and all down the front of my neckline, (which was only to my collarbones) and some on the back of my hands for good measure. Then I stepped out of the room, Spot was waiting there, dressed in his dark blue flannel shirt and olive green cabby cap. I realized with a blush that it was the same outfit from the 'Riot at Medda's' scene in Newsies…I smiled inwardly at his antics.
"M' lady," he bowed.
"Sir," I giggled, curtsying.
"Spot, dere's a carriage what says its foah youse outside, da drivah says Medda sent him foah Firefly," a small newsie called upstairs.
"Firefly?" Spot looked at me.
"Surprise, Brooklyn is arriving in style tonight, a small two person carriage, compliments of Medda Lakson," I smiled girlishly.
"Youse are one amazin goil," Spot said, then turned to his newsies. "Everyone, follow da carriage to Medda's! Brooklyn's gonna be da talk of da town!" he called. The newsies burst into triumphant cheers and followed Spot and I downstairs, I clutched his arm, to avoid being trampled by his rowdy gang. He handed me up into the sleek black two-horse carriage and said, "To Medda's please," to the driver. Then I sat next to him, hand-in-hand, all the way to Medda's party.
When we pulled up, Manhattan waved and cat-called. I saw Books next to Race and Jack, knowing her in safe hands there. She smiled and flashed me a quick thumbs-up sign. I smiled and flashed her one back.
Once inside, and done giving out hugs, I was pulled onto the dance floor by Spot. We did a little Irish jig to fiddle music and proceeded to dance one song after the other. I danced with Race, Blink, and got the opportunity to talk to Jack. He seemed nice; he was very well mannered and spoke highly of Books. I knew that this would make her absolutely giddy, knowing Jack was her favorite newsie and all.
Soon I was back on the dance floor in Spot's perfect arms. He kept his hands where they should be, and was very respectful. I looked up into his beautiful eyes and stood on my tiptoes, he leaned down and our lips met. After only a few seconds, his head snapped up, and turned towards the door. That's when I heard the commotion.
A word I had learned to fear passed Spot's lips, "Queens."
Oh the suspense! Ha ha, I needed that so much. Back To The Future (pardon the cheesiness) is coming soon.
Translations: Bheannaigh sé dom: 'Good Morning'
Cliste sracadh 'Smark Jerk' (Like Smark Aleck)
I love writing. I need to send a shout out to my special peeps: Lizzy, for watching Newsies with me and putting up with my off-key singing.
Christopher Scott: For all the reviews and support.
Christina Conlon: OMG! GABRIEL DAMON WAS (AND IS) THE JOTTEST THING TO GRACE THIS PLANET! (I wrote my letter did you?) Thanks for all the support and suggestions. I will be sure to update you first on all major changes/plot twists. *begs* Please update The Future Is Calling soon!
Austra: You rock.
cybale: You also rock.
REMINDER: CHECK OUT 'Wish Come True' FOR MY *SPOT ON* CONTEST RULES...I DON'T HAVE ANY SUBMISSIONS YET! :(
LUV YOU GUYS TO BITS -Firefly Conlon