I could hear Spot in the night. He was pacing in his room. The other boys were awake listening as well. Duke mentioned that Spot only paced when he was nervous.
Suddenly his moving feet paused and he groaned in annoyance, then continued pacing.
"Don't you ever try to cheer him up?" I asked feeling helpless.
"What, aw you gonna try? That would be da day. Spot being cheered up by a littul goil."
I narrowed my eyes at Duke and he grinned.
"Well ya'ar!"
Le Maitre sat upright, grinning himself silly.
"Voila!"
Duke rolled his eyes and sighed. "what now Maitre?" Le Maitre grinned and moved over to my bunk. He slyly swung an arm over my shoulder with an excited look.
"I know a wey zat we can cheer Spot up!"
"What?" I asked in excitement.
"A romantique evening wiz a beeyutiful mademoiselle." After a few seconds I figured out what he meant.
"Why do you always come up wid lousy ideas?" Duke spoke annoyed. He playfully smacked Le Maitre in the shoulder.
Le maitre simply grinned at me, making me feel self conscience.
"Spot's in battle mode, he would be interested in girls anyways." Flames notes, sliding onto my bunk as well. I began to feel crowded, but in a friendly way. It was like having my brothers back.
My brothers.
Spot was like a replacement, taking care of me and giving me a home.
I wished I could do something in return.
More boys joined us and began talking around my bed.
"Hey Erin, when aw you'se gonna get a newsie name?" someone asked.
"You mean, a fake name?"
"Yeah."
I began thinking of what a good name would be.
"How about scar?" Flames suggested referring to the stretched scar on my face. "Very mysterious."
"Nah, dat'll make her feel bad!" Duke commented, "what about Dodger? Cuz ya dodge death?"
"Chocolate bon-bon?" Le Maitre suggested innocently, getting smacks on the back of the head. I chuckled. These boys were funny.
"How about sweet face?" A boy said. Everyone silently began cracking up.
"Suah," Duke snickered, "best disguise name eva'! Why don't we also put her in a dress?"
Everyone laughed harder.
"I guess we could still cawl you Erin." Flames sighed disappointedly.
At one point I must have dozed off because I don't remember what happened after that. In the morning I was still curled up snug in bed, with a blanket over me. I felt a cool hand shake my shoulder. A voice was telling me something but it came out weird. I sighed contently. I loved sleeping in. Suddenly the air through my nose stopped. I tried sniffing but began to choke. What?
I sat upright and gasped. I looked up and saw Spot draw his hand away from my nose.
I was about to yell at him but he held up his fingers to signal immediate silence. I frowned but closed my mouth. He motioned for me to follow him in a playful manner. Sighing with a grin, I followed him. He made me follow him all the way back to the docks. He went on the planks and I froze. It was cold this morning and I had no intention of going in the water.
He sensed my resistance and returned grabbing my hand to tow me over. "No, Spot, please!"
"I ain't gonna put ya in da wata'!" Spot informed. "I'se gonna teach ya ta fight propa!"
I looked at him carefully and then willingly followed him.
He stopped and then faced me. "Okay I need ya ta undastand dat even when youh losin' you can't give up. You give up when youh dead, got dat?"
I nodded and he continued.
"Now, this is how you block." He demonstrated with his arms and told to me copy. After I got it down he taught me to punch. " Form a fist like dis-No, not dat way! You'll break youh fingahs! Try like dis."
By the end of the lesson my knowledge and bruises had grown.
"Okay, let get home." Spot began walking and I followed. I wanted to express my gratitude but every time I practiced in my head it sounded bogus.
We stopped at the door.
Oh well, here it goes.
"Thank you, Spot . . . you've done so much for me, so . . . thanks."
His grey blue eyes searched me carefully they were confused and curious. But after a while he smirked and replied, "I'se a gent. I'se ready ta help any goil in need."
I rolled my eyes. "You were helping me before you even knew."
At that he was speechless. His face became thoughtful.
"Well, sometimes I help poor littul kids from Ireland dat don't know da foist ting about bein' a newsie."
I couldn't help but grin. Spot was silent on the walk back. When we got to the door Spot paused.
"Erin, could ya do me a favor."
"Sure, what?"
He looked annoyed for some reason.
"Stand away from da door."
Raising an eyebrow, I complied. Spot sure did a good job at being completely unexplainable.
He quietly turned the door knob and emotionlessly yanked it from its frame.
Suddenly a group of boys tumbled out as if they were leaning against the wood. I laughed, thinking how clever Spot was for hearing them. I would have completely not noticed.
Everyone jumped up and pretended to have no idea what just happened.
"Well wouldn't ya know, da second you two's come in we'se were plannin' ta go out?" Duke chuckled. His voice hinted to his nervousness.
"Shuah, Duke," Spot smirked, "I'se surprised, usually you boys aw bettah at hidin'. Maybe youh outta shape?"
Everyone groaned. I looked up at Spot in confusion again, but he was still grinning at the boys.
"Tonight at ten, be ready for challenge night." Everyone groaned and began blaming each other for this apparent punishment.
"What's challenge night?" I asked Spot.
"Oh you'll see. Maybe you should be in it as well."
I shrugged, getting the feeling I just gave myself a very annoying evening.
"Get ta woik, boys!" Everyone fled, Spot jogging behind them laughing, in an evil amused sort of way. I followed hesitantly watching Spot laugh and challenge people to racing to get papes.
I felt a smile reach my own lips. These boys were like my own family. I loved them so much!
Once I got my hand on papes, I decided to get chancy and took 12. Every made fun of me, for the puny stack.
"Betta hurry up, ya might not sell awl dose in time!" Duke joked, getting snickers from Flames and Le Maitre. Rolling my eyes, I shifted the papers and read the headlines.
"Butcher Claims Thief Stole Best Knives"
"Two Shippers at Brooklyn Docks Vanish in Night"
"Bronx Criminal Activities Skyrockets"
I look over the headlines twice, then three times. Everything connected, but I couldn't figure it out. Missing knives, missing shippers by the docks, Bronx crimes . . . I opened up to the missing shippers page.
"Bernard Mullick and Daniel Penn had not returned from their duties last night after unloading boxes from a ship last night. The crates which were meant to carry gun powder and bullets were found missing as well. There are suspicions that they have fled with the materials for certain crimes. Their families are being interrogated today . . ."
I saw a picture of both the missing men. Nothing about them looked familiar, but I was surprised by this new piece of information. Shipping material for . . . weapons. Suddenly, it all made sense. Spot was still talking to some of the boys, his papers loosely hung in his arm.
"Spot!" I called urgently. His eyes immediately locked with my own. His lips did not move, but his eyes did all of the talking- What was wrong?
"Come here! I found something!" He ran over, getting confused looks from everyone.
"What? What?" He looked serious and ready for action.
I quickly showed him everything I found.
He first took in the information silently, adding everything up.
"Hmm . . ." His voice became deep in thought.
"Well?" I asked impatiently, worried he might just explode from too much thinking. This wouldn't surprise me. Spot probably made his way to the top by thinking through everything. He makes plans that are so foolproof and so unthinkable that nobody cannot predict him.
"I'se tink we'se got a stakeout ta do tonight." His eyes were still somewhere else plotting.
"You mean were going to follow whoever is responsible for this?"
"Exactly." He grinned down at me, giving me the chills. It was a grin that said he had a plan and knew exactly how it would begin and end. It a grin that meant he was ready.
"Boys!" He called, getting everyone's attention. "Challenge nights gonna be anudda time. I'se got impoitant business tanight!"
That evening Spot and I snuck to the docks and hid behind an alley. We waited for what seemed like hours. Spot told me that I couldn't say a word because someone might overhear. So silently we sat, unmoving waiting for someone. The hours rolled along and I was sure that nobody was coming. Maybe Spot didn't think about everything this time. I turned to Spot and instantly put a finger up to his lips without glancing back at me.
I rolled my eyes, and he smirked in response. So he can see?
I tugged on his sleeve gently, and he impatiently turned to me. I made a gesture to show that I thought this was a no show. He shook his head and made a motion to say that there were boxes there. I nodded my understanding but used my hands to draw a big clock in the air and then made a huge circle clockwise to show how much time we've been smirked, rolling his eyes. He raised up his hand holding out 5 fingers.
The message was clear: five more minutes and we leave. I nodded and turned back to the scene in front of us. I could hear approaching the approaching clip-clops of a horse. A black beast stopped in front of the crates with a wagon attached to its harness. Two men leapt from the wagon and began loading crates into it. The darkness made their faces unrecognizable. In the middle of their work one of them quietly spoke up. "Quiet night, eh Eddie?"
"Yup," replied the other in a gruff tone.
"Don't suppose we'se gonna end up like dose guys in da pape yesterday, do ya?" The man tried sounding calm but his voice cracked in the middle.
"We might."
Even from here I could hear a distinct gulp. I watched carefully not moving my eyes or blinking.
"Well, I guess it's worth it. For da money, dat is. Old man Greener is eager ta get dis stuff in da weahhouse."
"Wheah have you been?" Scoffed the other, "He doesn't want more people stealin' his goods for crimes out in da Bronx, a 'corse he's willing ta pay a lot ta get a couple of guys to safety take it down for him!"
The other man gulped loudly.
"Well. It looks like we'se done. Now let's just—" The man never got to finish his sentence because he suddenly choked and crumpled to the floor.
"Eddie!" shouted is friend dropping down to assess the problem. He too, gasped and fell beside the silent Eddie.
"Come on, fellers, we betta hurry!"
"Dat's right, we'se don't want ta alert ta bulls!" Like silent agents, four boys took the crates and bodies loading them into the wagon and steered it away.
Spot grabbed my arm and began pulling me. We followed a good distance behind. The boys made no sound as the passed through Brooklyn into the Bronx.
Spot stopped outside the territory line.
"That explains a lot," Spot whispered. "So dis is awl ta fight me? I ain't da scary, am I?" He spoke in a joking tone, his eyes full of humor.
"Spot!" I hissed in annoyance and fear, "This isn't funny. They could really hurt someone. I think we should do something. Maybe we need help."
"Brooklyn neva asks fo' help, Erin. If anything we'se da ones dat give help."
"Spot, they have guns, and knives, and dangerous weapons. What do you have?"
"Da loyalty a' me boys."
"Are you going to watch them die for you?" I asked in an accusing tone.
"I'se gonna watch dem die wid me ta protect Brooklyn. An' dey would agree wid me."
"Fine," I sighed. "Let's go home."
The walk back was silent. The gears were turning in Spot's brain as he began planning more. I was afraid that all of my newly made friends would die because of this. They were tough, but guns and knives were tougher. Could Spot even think of a good plan for this? I turned to look at him again. His face was blank, his eyes were cold and distant. His battle face. His feet were walking in rhythm to the drums of war in his head. When we got to the lodge house I didn't even notice until Spot's hand reached out to open the door. He mechanically walked up to his room without a word.
This was serious.
When I got back to my own room everyone was in bed, supposedly sleeping. I walked past the rows of bunks noticing heads pop up watching me.
Once I sat down, I rubbed my shoeless feet, and plopped down on the creaky mattress. "I know you're all awake, what do you want?"
In a sudden quiet flurry all the boys were surrounding my bed. Concerned eyes watched me, and whispers of "what's going on, Erin?" tickled my ears.
"I can't tell you what happened or what' going on," I began. "Don't worry about it . . . yet."
There was more pleading and once the boys realized they couldn't get through to me, they gave up and went to bed.
Once everyone was sleeping again, I could hear Spot again. Pacing.
In the morning, I shivered under my sheets. The cold was coming in. I tried to remember warm summer days until I felt someone shaking me. Why was someone shaking me? It was far too early to be shaken.
"Go away," I moaned, holding on to the last moments of sleep.
"Wake up!" The shaker hissed.
"One more minute . . . hour . . ."
I heard a sigh and then the shaking stopped. I think I went back into a dream. I was being carried back into sleep. I felt the gentle rocking of arms and sighed. This was much better.
I was deep asleep.
Suddenly I was freezing and wet and drowning all at once. I tore my eyes open and saw that I was in the water. I began swimming as Spot instructed and climbed up a nearaby wooden beam. Choking and gasping I pulled myself up and lay on the dock breathing heavily.
Spot's face loomed over me seriously.
"Spot!" I spluttered, "You nearly killed me!"
"No, you nearly killed you," he corrected mysteriously, "when I wake you up you should jump out at once."
I shivered in the cold air, while noting this in my brain. "Well, now you have my full attention, what do you want?"
"I'se gonna teach ya ta block an fight wid weapons."
"Okay," I sighed sleepily, "let's go!" my enthusiasm was crushed by a loud yawn.
I could see Spot suppressing a smirk.
First we started with a sling shot. I was supposed to aim for bottles he placed on crates nearby.
Supposed to were key words. I came close but always missed.
"Try keepin' one eye closed," Spot suggested.
I did and this time came closer. "One more time!" I said in excitement. He handed me one more marble. I squeezed one eye shut and pulled back the elastic as far as I could. I aimed, and HIT!
"YES!" I cried in joy! I turned to Spot to see if he was impressed. He merely looked satisfied and then taught me the knife. I felt more comfortable with a weapon that required up close fighting. Spot showed me the proper way to wield it. I learned stabbing, deflecting another blade, and dodging.
"A real fighta' will always go unda', stab, and pull back," Spot taught, "You'se gotta take a step back and to da side." Then he taught me how to move forward and take the knife away.
The gun was last.
Spot wouldn't teach me how to use it. "Brooklyn is faih," he spoke slowly, "We don't use weapons dat kill instantly. Dere's no fight wid guns, just killin'. Brooklyn is more dan killkin'. We want ta win a propa fight."
I was touched my Spot's nobility. He was a good leader. Spot showed me how to time when to jump and dive. It was simple, you see a gun pointed at you run in a zig zag find something to hide behind and don't get hit.
"Da only way ta really know if dis guy is gonna shoot ya is by lookin him in de eyes," Spot's own grey blue eyes were serious and calling my attention. Someone who is scaihd or reluctant ta shoot will show it in de eyes. Someone who will kill you has this look in the eyes that is cold and unafraid. You watch out for dis, okay?" I nodded my understanding.
Spot then tied up the morning learning with a final lesson.
"Is this necessary?" I asked as Spot began tying my hands and and feet together.
"Yes," he replied quickly. Once he finished he stood up and grinned at his handiwork. "Now get out."
"Sure, just untie me!" I said with impatience in my voice.
"You can do it, yerself, Erin. Aw you waitin' fo' prince charmin'?"
I rolled my eyes and began pulling at the knots.
After two minutes of useless work Spot bent down close and smirked.
"So ya wanna know da secret?"
I looked up at him in annoyance. "No Spot," I groaned sarcastically, "I like being tied up helplessly." At this, he roared in laughter. I didn't see what was so funny.
Finally he calmed down and spoke with a wider smirk.
"Use youh teeth ta pull out ta knot. Or if dat don't woik use a corner a sumtin' and rub da rope against it."
I looked down at the knot. It was double tied but maybe . . . I began pulling with my teeth and after a long time I pulled apart the first knot. I began working on the second one.
I was free by the time the sun was almost completely risen.
"Good woik," Spot complimented.
"Thank you."
Spot put all of the weapons and rope into a burlap sack. I felt so different from the first time I met Spot. I felt stronger. A strong hand was held in front of my face. It belonged to Spot.
"Need a hand?" he asked. I smiled a little and took it, allowing him to pull me up.
As we began another walk to the lodge house Spot spoke up.
"By da way, nothin' makes me mornin' like youh sleep tawkin'."
"My sleep— What?" I exclaimed startled, "I sleep talk?" He grinned at me like a child with a secret.
"What aw ya worried about?" He asked slyly, "Sometin' on youh mind ya don't wanna share?"
I felt my face flush. "No!" I spoke quickly. "What have I said?"
"Nuttin' really," he assured me, "ya mostly talk to youh family and yell at me when I wake ya up."
"What do I say?" I asked curiously.
"Ya say stuff like, 'don't die' and 'pick the potato's yourself, lazy'."
"No, I mean what do I yell at you?"
He smirked, looking forward. "You just tell me it's too early, an' say I'm so annoyin' draggin' you out heah to fight." He looked thoughtful and then spoke up again, "why do ya wanna know?"
"I just want to make sure I'm doing a good job at it, even in my sleep."
His laugh following this was chilly. "You know, I should soak ya for sayin' stuff like dat. I soak every newsie dat insult's me."
"You wouldn't be able to lay your hands on me, remember?" I replied, recalling our first fight.
"True," he answered, "but sometin' else holds me back, maybe it's just pity."
"Pity?" I echoed in annoyance, "what's there to pity?"
"Well—youh completely clueless widout me, youh a goil foiced ta pretend ta be a boy, an' you can't sell pape's for youh life."
Humor had once again returned to Spot. How aggravating.
"Spot Conlon I could—"
My threat was interrupted as we neared the lodge house and all the boys came up to us loudly running up.
Spot laughed and went to join the boys, giving me a final smirk. I rolled my eyes as he stopped the lallygagging and sent them all the get papers.
I followed behind noticing Spot slowing down to my pace.
"Erin, a few more tings," he said in a hushed tone, "tanight, I'se gotta tawk wid you about me plan so come home on time, also stay outta trouble and stay away from da Bronx. And lastly, no matta what happens don't let anyone know youh a goil. Dat'll make ya look like an easy target, is dat awl cleah?"
"Crystal."
"Good goil." He rushed back in the front, throwing me one of his famous smirks over his shoulder. Typical Spot.
I took twelve papers and flipped through them. Nothing interesting. Something told me today was going to be a bad day. I unenthusiastically sold my papers, following my favorite group of Duke, Le Maitre, and Flames.
Usually it was worse to sell in groups but these boys didn't mind.
Around noon I had sold seven papers. My stomach began grumbling.
"Do you guys mind if I get something to eat?" I asked.
"Go ahead," Flames answered.
"Yeah, we'll catch up soon," Duke added.
I went off to a nearby bakery and stepped inside. The sweet smell of pastries filled the air.
"Can I help you?" A stout woman who looked really unhelpful frowned down at me.
"Yes, um, how much are the rolls?"
"Three cents," she answered between two thin bloodless lips.
"I'll take one." She put the stalest one on the counter, making a distinct crack against the marble top. I passed her my three cents and took the roll.
"Thank you," I called over my shoulder. She waved in a stern manner while picking up my money.
I began to nibble on the crust because chewing wasn't an option. At least, this way I could savor the taste.
I was sitting outside the bakery directly under the sun. This was pleasant, I thought to myself.
"Hey you!" I looked up and saw three boys walking up to me. They were unfamiliar, dressed in raggedy clothes. Their eyes were cold and suspecting.
"Yeah?" I was worried they wanted my roll, and clung tighter to it.
"Aw you Erin Collins?" I looked at them carefully, Suspicion filled me.
"Why?"
"Hey we asked a question foist!" another boy responded.
"Yes, I'm Erin, why?" I asked impatiently.
The boys looked at each other and then back at me.
"Youh commin' wid us ta meet someone," the first boy answered quietly.
"Says who?" I demanded feeling annoyance rise in my chest.
"Says me," he answered. In his hand was a small hand gun pointed at my stomach.
"I see your point." I put the roll in my pocket and allowed the boys to direct me.
"Do you work for the Bronx, then?" I asked cautiously.
"Just keeping movin'." He prodded me in the back, which pretty much kept me quiet the entire trip. I was held my breath when crossing the territory line.
We made our way through different streets filled with people watching unsuspectingly. The gun was hidden behind my back, everything seemed so innocent.
Finally we turned into the same small bar that Spot took me too. The old man was gone but inside at one seat, sat the infamous Shadow. Across from him was another boy. One that looked very familiar.
"Blink!" I spoke confused. He looked up at me happily and then gave Shadow a satisfactory smile.
"Tanks," he said to Shadow, walking up to me.
"What's going on?" I demanded, eyeing Kid Blink, what was he doing here?
"I'll explain latah," he replied.
"Rememba'," Shadow called, "not a woid."
"Yes," Blink replied darkly, "I'se know."
Once we were outside I glared at Blink. "Are you going to explain yourself?"
"Sh!" he hissed, "wait until we're back in Manhattan!" I looked over my shoulder and noticed some people were watching. I walked fast, forcing him to match my speed.
Once we crossed the bridge I turned and glared at him. "What are you thinking? Do you know what you're doing?"
"I just saved youh life!" He relied in the same tone.
"Why are you working with Shadow?"
"He said if I gave him information on wheah ta get weapons he'd get you back. Did you ever think that maybe he was using the weapons to massacre all the Brooklyn newsies?"
"Spot kidnapped you anyways." Blink looked offended or some reason.
"Spot was good to me, Blink." His eyes dropped. Now I could see he was really hurt. "Listen, I missed you boys, but Spot saved me. I owe him my life. I can't just have what I want all the time and neither can you."
He looked ashamed now, realizing his error.
"I'se sorry, I just felt so bad fo' ya. I couldn't imagine Spot treatin' ya nice, so I'se thought . . ."
"I get it, Blink," I replied.
"Please stay?" his requested was made with desperation.
"I can't, I'm loyal to Spot now."
"I saved youh life too!"
I paused in surprise. He was right, He did save my life.
He could see that this had an effect on me. "Erin, why would ya wanna stay dere? Spot's cold hearted. He saved ya ta use ya! Wid us you have a family."
That was a lie. Brooklyn was my family.
"Blink, you were my first real friend, but Spot has become so much a part of me I can't leave him. He—" I wanted to say he needed me, but that wasn't true. Spot didn't need anyone.
"I owe him so much more." I finished.
"Fine, den," Blink spat, "I can see whose side youh on. It's youh suicide, dough."
I recoiled at his venom but then shrugged.
"Thank you . . . for the thought, that is." I was about to give him a hug, but knew that this was very unboy-like behavior, Instead I patted his shoulder while walking past him.
I began walking back through Brooklyn making a direct path for the lodge house. I had to move quickly, avoiding obvious paths. The Bronx were probably waiting for me to come through.
I could see it up ahead. I was home free. I made a dash for the lodge house, not looking back. I felt something crash into me from the side.
How unexpected, I thought to myself as pain came to my side. I thought an attack would come from behind me. I tried to look up but my attacker shoved my face into the ground.
Something hit me in the head and I was out like a light.
Upon awakening the first thing I was aware of was the throbbing pain in my head.
The second thing I was aware of was that my arms were tied behind me.
And lastly, I noticed I was in a room with someone watching me. Shadow was in the shadows. How fitting.
"Welcome back," he said with absolutely no welcome in his voice.
"Uh-oh."
"You could say sat again." I was tempted to repeat just because he said that but my anger flared up.
"What do you want Shadow?"
He smirked in such a cold manner, he almost put Spot to shame.
"I knew you would come back. I'm usin' you as bait ta get ta Conlon. Once dat Hattan aihhead told me he would help me everytin' was so simple. I would kidnap you ta get Conlon. Gettin' da weapons was merely a way to scahe his friends so dey would eidda stay outta me way or join me once Conlon was dead. Fool proof, no?"
"Who said Conlon would come?" I asked, "I'm nothing special to him."
"But you know things, don't ya? You spend more time wid him, and he doesn't want his littul secrets ta get out, does he?"
"Who said they would?"
"We have ways of makin' people tawk," He whispered cruelly.
"I have ways of staying quiet," I shot back.
"We'll see. In da mean time, we'se waitin' for Conlon."
I clenched my fists. This was not what Spot expected at all.
