Part III
Brooklyn, New York
If you had asked Spot how he defeated Jinx, how he and his Brooklyn newsies got out of the ambush of Crown Heights, he would not be able to tell you. Bolt would tell you, though. He would tell you right off the bat that they preferred not to talk about it because it began with the capture of five Brooklyn boys and the absence of their leader for three days. But he would tell you they simply got lucky and that they got all of their information through the grapevine of street rats and other allied gangs as to where Crown Heights was operating. It was luck that they arrived at the time they did, when Jinx was caught off-guard.
But for the most part, yes, for the most part, Bolt preferred to focus on the fact that they won. None of the boys thought it a triumphant victory in the least.
Spot could hardly tell you any details. His memory of that night was split into two parts marked off by a single event: the first part was everything that lead up to the point at which he drove Emma away for good. The second part was blocked out. He had blindly fought the Crown Heights boys. He didn't see the point in committing it to his memory.
He did, however, remember one person in particular during the second part of that night: Johnny. As soon as he entered the building again from the fire escape, there was a split-second vision of him holding the door with all his might when the Crown Heights boys were trying to break in to keep Brooklyn from rescuing their leader. Jinx had slammed open the door and immediately pointed his pistol at Bolt, who drew both of his in defense. Jinx took a look at Johnny who stood defenselessly by himself and then noticed the empty room in which Emma and Peter had been kept. When he put two and two together, he pulled the trigger and Johnny backed into the wall after the impact of the bullet hit his stomach. Spot had run to Johnny to catch him from hitting the floor and missed Jinx's bullet by a hair. Yet Jinx lasted not a moment longer after Bolt fired off three bullets into him.
Spot would tell you nothing after that because nothing else really mattered. Bolt would let you know they won that day in Crown Heights and freed the five boys they had originally lost to Jinx. That was where the story of that day ended.
After that, everything in Brooklyn went back to normal. The next day they got up at dawn and went to sell the papers. To pass the time between the afternoon and evening editions, the newsies went to the docks to play cards, swim in the river, and actively get past what had happened. And it wasn't as though it was something itching to get out, like an elephant in the room that someone need to acknowledge. It was simply something to get over. It was resolved.
Spot spent most of his time after that day sitting on his perch of crate boxes at the docks. He was far enough away to hear himself think but close enough to watch over Brooklyn. He didn't walk around with a chip on his shoulder or a scowl in his face. He was quite complacent, actually. When he wasn't keeping to himself, he was talking with the boys and living a normal life again. He still sold his papers at the corner of Pine and 4th Street.
It would be inaccurate to say he was happy, but it would be inaccurate to say he was sad. That isn't to say the experience of losing Emma again wasn't horrible. It was. It was the worst pain you could ever imagine having to open the same wound without healing it. It was resolved, and Spot decided to be a man about it. Any time he felt those intense feelings he reminded himself he had done the right thing. He had done the right thing. He had to repeat it to himself -- that was Spot at his most human. He would grab his hair tightly at the roots or put his hand over his eyes or toy with his key necklace when those feelings plagued him. It was never easy for him to deal with and it never would be.
Even so, it was impossible for Emma to have completely left him. Those type of people in your life never really do, even if they haven't been near you, even if they haven't talked to you in ages; those people hold a place next to your heart. Spot would tell you it's the worst feeling in the world and the best all at the same time.
Time often got the better of him, though, and there were days that he were especially horrible. It would hit him how long she had been away from him and it would hurt. He didn't have his better half. It was painful as hell, but he made himself get through it. He was okay, only because he forced himself to be.
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
What Emma would tell you after the experience in Brooklyn is somewhat contradictory. She would tell you that everything she did was completely wrong but that it was justifiable at the same time. She wrestled with her emotions and how she felt about it afterward. She would tell you she would have laid her life down for Spot -- if that situation so occurred -- but would say his decision to save her made no sense whatsoever.
She would tell you her feelings about Peter varied. She hadn't wanted to be with him, and it was his marriage proposal that sent her running away to Brooklyn in the first place. But there had been a moment between the two of them as they made their way back to Philadelphia.
Bleary-eyed and still wearing the same dress she came to Brooklyn in, Emma followed Peter, her head down, to the two seats he bought for the train ride home. He hadn't hugged her, offered her comfort, nor said a word of support since she stopped fighting him off away from Crown Heights. (He literally carried her away amidst her kicking and screaming back to the inn for the night, where he slept on the floor and she slept for twelve hours in the comfort of his bed). Silently she leaned her head against the window watching the train tracks. Occasionally she eyed Peter, but he was doing the same thing, and she didn't worry about awkward eye contact.
It was when they had left the state of New York that Emma became emotional again. She felt herself choke up and she buried her face in her hands, her head in her lap. After a few brief moments, she became aware of Peter's presence, for he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, excusing employees aboard the train and any other nosy passenger who audibly commented on the sight.
"You need to pay no attention to us, ma'm," he had said quite firmly to one appalled woman across the aisle.
The woman scoffed and turned up her nose. "What a childish and rude thing to do in public!"
Peter then stood upright and walked across the aisle. He placed one hand on the woman's cabin door and said lowly, "Until you're perfect," and slammed the door loudly.
Emma looked up upon his return. He avoided eye contact with her and stared out the window, his face neither angry nor annoyed. She felt a feeling of fondness pass through her. It was by no means love, but it was respect. She wiped her face clean and got up, taking a seat next to him. Though she looked in front of her, he stared at her profile. Closing her eyes slowly, she breathed.
After the train ride, and for a great deal of time later, that's precisely would Peter did: he allowed her to breathe. Without speaking a word about it, he gave Emma what she wanted from him: space, respect. He was in love with her. Despite rational thought and his male dignity, he adored the girl. A while later as he often times pondered that day in Crown Heights, he liked the think he would have done the same thing Spot had done had he ever been in that situation.
On a certain level, though he seldom reached that level, Peter knew he would never be what Spot was to Emma. And it wasn't a matter of Emma loving him the way she did Spot; no matter how much she would let Peter in and respect him or love him for the way he was, there was only room for one person to have her heart. Yes, on that level, Peter knew.
It took longer for Emma to heal than Spot. Perhaps because she hadn't gotten exactly what she wanted, and Spot, in a way, did. She knew he wanted her to leave for her own sake, but deep down she knew it wasn't what he truly wanted. All she had to do was think of they way they were at the inn when she first saw him again. Replaying those memories made everything harder for her to understand and she felt the sting of rejection worse than she had before. She kept telling herself she would be okay. In time, she would be okay. She'll be okay. When she repeated this mantra, she closed her eyes and breathed.
Emma had appreciated Peter's presence more than she thought she would. She never did reach the point at which she truly, madly, deeply wanted to be with him for every second she was alive. But it helped that he was there. (Though his mother was as impossible as ever). Without knowing it, he distracted her from any pain she felt, and it took a while for her to take Spot down from the pedestal she had placed him upon.
They didn't talk about Spot but it was always lingering in the air when they were alone together. And whenever Peter went to express his loving emotions to her, he would look into her eyes, but she would look away. It was important to note that as time wore on, she looked Peter in the eyes whenever such a moment arose, but each knew they would never connect. There wasn't any fire in her eyes when she looked at him. It was why after four years, they had yet to marry.
Nevertheless, Peter Crenshaw, no matter how much he loved her, never walked away, even when he know all along he was doomed to be second best.
Emma never completely moved on and she never really would. You don't just let someone like that go. Too much of Spot was inside her, the way she was inside Spot too. There were times when Peter was asleep that she came close to leaving again. She would pack her suitcase when he was at work and wait until he was fast asleep, but whenever she opened the window she saw Spot's face that night, and it stopped her in her tracks.
Instead she resorted to the place in her heart Spot had claimed years ago. It never failed -- it gave her comfort every time and she felt stronger.
Spot and Emma had always been two of the most stubborn people you could possibly meet. It was a wonder how they each made it work for as long as they had. They fought too much, pushed themselves too far, and hurt each other in several tiny ways. Still, they always came back to each other. Always. Time and time again, no matter how much they hurt each other, they came back and it was if they'd never been apart. Always…
