The summer was rough. There was a huge disruption to our lives as Spot and his boys went on strike. We didn't see much of them, and from the sound of things, it got a bit hairy. Spot was even arrested, along with numerous boys from the East Side newsboys. He came back with a bigger smirk and a darker look than ever, but that dark look never stuck with him for long. I wanted to ask him about the whole thing, but Papa said it was best to let him tell me about it in his own time and way. He told me a bit-mostly we talked about why they joined in, what they fought for, and about how the police came in and broke up a rally. That was when he got arrested. I got the feeling that there were some things he left out about the whole arrest thing, and I heard there were some fights. Knowing Spot, he was probably in them, but he didn't say anything about that part.
It was a late summer evening when things changed and a bit of my innocence disappeared. Jimmy had indicated that he needed to out, and I called to Papa as I headed outside. While I don't generally go out for long walks that late at night, I do need to take Jimmy out, and he was getting big enough that his presence was protection enough, especially since I don't go far. The night was cooler, with the promise of autumn on it even as the day's stifling heat had not yet dissipated. I rounded the corner and headed out into the twilight when a man blocked my path.
"Excuse me," I said shyly, trying to move around the man to the empty street. I knew this looking down habit was to blame for my almost running into him.
"Oh, sweetheart, you're excused," he said, and I blushed. He stepped back in front of me. "What's the rush, doll?"
"I was just walking my dog," I mumbled, trying to get around him again. He grabbed my waist, and suddenly I realized he wasn't alone. Two more men had walked up behind him while I'd been looking at the sidewalk, and I found myself being pulled into the alley between the buildings.
"Let me go," I said, but my voice was shaking so badly that there was no power behind the words. Jimmy, however, was barking madly—his puppy yip sounded feeble in comparison to the rough laughter of the man holding onto me. Jimmy jumped forward with a puppy growl. One of the other two men suddenly grabbed a pallet of wood from the alley and swung it at Jimmy, who rolled sideways into the street. He yelped in fear and pain, and I began struggling against the iron grip on my waist and the hand that had now clamped over my mouth, trying to get to my dog. The third man laughed as he reached out and ran his hand from my shoulder down the front of my body to my waist, and my fear morphed into absolute terror as I realized their intention.
Suddenly there was a steely voice nearby that I had heard once before. "Let her go," Spot said calmly, and I saw him climbing down the fire escape from a nearby rooftop. My relief at his voice was momentary as I realized that Spot was alone. There were three of them. I struggled through the fog of fear as Spot continued, "I told you to stop."
"Oh, and who's askin'?" one of the men sneered.
"Spot Conlon" came the growled response.
The three men glanced at one another. "Always figured you would be a bit bigger," the spokesman spat back, glaring. Spot just shrugged, but his eyes stayed on the three men. There was an almost eager gleam in them. He looked like a bird of prey sizing up a rabbit except for the smirk on his lips. And before I could think why Spot was smirking, the man let go of me, and all three men jumped Spot.
I should rephrase that. They tried to jump him. Spot simply dodged them. I had never seen anything so graceful, so fast, and so terrifying. He landed blows on each of them before taking a single hit, and one man was completely unconscious before the second fist made contact with him. Within three minutes the whole thing was over, and Spot had crossed over to me. I just stood there shaking as he reached out a tentative hand toward my arm.
"Cat," he said, and I collapsed into him. He just stood there, holding me while I cried into his chest. After a minute or two I calmed down and he released me, searched my face, and, apparently satisfied that I was okay, took a step back, nodding. It was only when he picked them up off the fire escape that I realized he had never used his cane or his slingshot. They would have simply been in the way. I gasped for breath as my fear and awe overwhelmed me. Jimmy, who had picked himself up, was limping toward me, whimpering.
"Good boy," I whispered, stooping to hug the dog gingerly. He licked my face.
"What are you doing out here? You—" The anger in his voice threw me off balance. Spot had never spoken to me like that, and I had heard that tone so rarely that it made my breath catch, and the tears I had just managed to stop began to flow again. Jimmy was instantly on high alert at my tension, and he whined in confusion as his face moved from mine to Spot's and back. Spot took a deep breath, then pulled me gently to my feet. "Sorry," he said. "Let's get you both home."
Spot's jaw was set, his body tense, and his eyes roaming the streets as we headed back home.
"How did you know where I—" I said tremulously.
"It's my job to know," he interrupted. "Cat, you scared the bejeezus out of me. What are you doing out?" His voice was no longer angry, but he was clearly still frustrated.
"Those men—they were going to—if you hadn't—I didn't mean to-" I stammered. My mind was still racing. How could men be so cruel? What had I done wrong? Why would they do such a thing? What would have happened if Spot hadn't been there? My mind was going so fast that I didn't realize Spot was speaking to me again until he grabbed both of my hands in his, pulled me in front of him, and gave a little shake. I stopped and tried to look at him, but all of a sudden he pulled me into another hug. After a few moments my breathing settled, and Spot pulled away, looked me in the eye, and stepped back, nodding to himself again, though he kept my hands clasped in his.
"Easy, Katja. It's okay. Nothing happened."
"How can people do something like that? Did I do something to those men? Why would they come after me? Oh my gosh, are you hurt?" The questions tumbled out before I had any control over them.
Spot chuckled in spite of himself, but his tone remained serious. "Nah, I ain't hurt. This was an easy one. Those guys just didn't like being interrupted in their game. And no, you didn't do anything wrong." Here he looked back at me earnestly, and his eyes remained hard, even if his voice was soft. "Some people are just bad, and sometimes bad things happen to good people. I'm just glad that I was able to be here this time. But Cat, ya gotta understand that I can't always be there. Ya can't just go out at night. Have yer pa take Jimmy out, at least until he's fully grown. Now c'mon. Let's get you home. We both need our rest."
A game? I was a game to them? That, more than anything, was what stuck with me that night and kept me on edge.
In later years I would wonder how Spot managed to be there that night. But my mind was too busy that night, and somehow I never worked up the courage to ask.
I headed inside, but not before Spot pulled me into another hug and whispered "good night" into my hair.