| ~By Sprite The night was cold as frost, and the sky was clear. A perfect night to gaze at the stars. Spot Conlon would never tell anyone, but secretly, he loved the stars. They were permanent beauty, and always there waiting for him. Sometimes, Spot would sit outside recanting his problems to the stars, other times, he would just come out to sit and think, away from his boys, his city. Tonight was one of those thinking nights. Eve Maxwell was running as fast as her legs would take her wincing in pain with every step. The beatings were getting worse each day, as was her mother's insistence of her marriage to David. Tonight had been the final straw. After her father bruised her rib, gave her a black eye, bruised her face, and cut her arms, legs, and stomach, Eve knew she had to run away before he killed her. She packed a small bag consisting of a pair of clothes, and a small picture frame showing herself and another young girl, and climbed out the window using a rope made of bed sheets tied together. Her parents wouldn't notice her until morning when they would fetch her to clean. She had a few hours head start, and wasn't going to waste her precious time sleeping until she was out of the Bronx. Spot looked at his small pocket watch and jumped up. He had been so busy looking at the stars, he hadn't noticed how late it had gotten. The short but tough leader of Brooklyn stood up from his spot near the river and started walking back to the Lodging House. About ten minutes into his journey home, Spot was knocked roughly on the ground. "Hey, watch weah you'se going." Spot said gruffly to the person who had knocked him over. "I'm so sorry." Eve said extending her hand to the young man she had run into. She had been moving so fast and not paying any attention to where she was going that she ran into some one. Spot was so surprised by the quiet voice of his "attacker" that he looked up sharply. His eyes locked onto the most amazing eyes he had ever seen before. They were a deep mix of silver, and green. Spot was captivated by her gaze until she spoke again. "Are you all right?" The young woman asked. "Yeah, I'se fine. Ah you'se okay?" Spot asked, admiring the young woman standing before him. She was about the same height as he was, and dressed like she was running away. She wore dark pants and a dark grey shirt. The pants emphasized her hips slightly, while the shirt gave teasing hints about her chest. Eve didn't notice Spot's roving eyes since she had averted her own before answering. "I'm fine thank you. If you don't mind I'll be..." Eve didn't get to finish what she was saying before she collapsed. Luckily, Spot was in just the right place to catch her before she hit the pavement. Spot instantly picked her up and swore noticing for the first time her deep cuts and bruises. He started carrying her to the safest place he knew, the Manhattan Boarding House. Albert Kloppman, the owner of the Manhattan Boarding House, was just about to go to bed when he heard a soft knocking at the back door. Knowing it could be trouble, Kloppman ran to the door, and threw it open. Standing on the doorstep, was Spot Conlon, leader of the Brooklyn Newsies, carrying what appeared to be a young woman, but he almost couldn't be positive from all the cuts and bruises on her face. "What happened?" Kloppman asked immediately concerned. "I dunno. One minute I'se outside, de next she bahals (barrels) into me like a soul ouddah hell. Den she collapses and I sees all dah bruises on 'a." Spot said hurriedly, still holding onto the girl like she was a precious treasure. "Not to be rude Kloppy, but can you'se tell me wheahs to put 'a so I'se don't drop 'a?" Kloppman's face softened, and he pointed the way to the upstairs guest room used for just such an occasion. "You gonna be needin' some watah and bandages?" Kloppman asked Spot, checking if the young man was indeed going to watch after the girl and stay the night. "O' couhse." Spot said shaking his head. Spot started up the steps before he turned around quickly. "Oh, an' tell Jacky-boy when he wakes up, that I'se upstaihs, but don't tell no one else. Got it?" Kloppman nodded, used to Spot's rather rash actions. Spot carefully carried the young woman's body up the stairs. "What's yoah story goil? Why da you'se gots dem bruises all ovah you'se?" Spot asked the unconscious girl in his arms. Once he reached the guest room, he turned on the lights and lay the girl on the bed, in an effort to examine all of the damage. *She shoah is beautiful,* Spot thought. In the light, Spot could see all of the horrible bruises marring her body, but he could also see the details of her hair and clothing better. The girl wasn't wearing a grey shirt, but a very dirty white one. Her hair which he originally placed to be dark brown, was not completely brown, in actuality, it was a mix looking more like dark auburn than just plain brown. She looked to be around sixteen or seventeen, "too young to be out on the streets of Brooklyn alone." Spot contemplated. Just then, Kloppman entered, tearing Spot out of his thoughts. "Heah's some stuff foah you. Sleep well Spot." Kloppman said before leaving just as quickly as he entered. "T'anks," Spot said to the air, before getting to work on the young woman's cuts. "T'ank god she's asleep so she can't feel this, 'cause it's gotta hoit like hell." Several hours later, Spot was asleep in a chair next to the bed occupied by the mystery girl, who was also sleeping. ~Later that morning~ "Heya Spot!" Cowboy, better known as Jack Kelly shouted before barging into the guest room, waking Spot out of his fitful slumber. Spot rubbed his eyes before opening them to glare at his so called best friend. "Jacky-boy, be quiet will ya, you'se gonna wake..." Before Spot could finish berating Jack, Eve awoke, with no memory of what had transpired much earlier that morning. Eve's eyes widened to take in her surroundings. *Okay,* Eve thought, *I'm in a strange bed, in a strange place, and there are two boys in my room,* so, Eve did what any girl in her place would have done, she screamed. She screamed as loud as she possibly could. "AAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!" Jack and Spot both immediately covered their ears, so as not to damage their eardrums. "Goil! Shuddup!" Spot yelled attempting to shout over the startled girl. By now, every boy in the boarding house had heard the commotion and ran to where the noise was coming from. Eve finally had to stop screaming before she passed out from lack of oxygen, but that didn't make her any less weary or frightened. "So," Jack said to himself, "dis is why Kloppman wouldn't tell de oddahs." Spot looked at him incredulously. Eve pulled the blankets up around her body in a futile attempt to hide from what was happening. "Goil? Goil, you'se remembah me, ya know from last night?" Spot asked softly in an attempt to calm the girl down enough to get her story or at least her name. Eve peeked her still bruised face over the blanket. What she saw nearly made her throw the covers back over her head. In her room, were a hundred boys at least, all dressed in rags. Spot saw the fear in her eyes and calmly but slowly walked over to her. "Hey, it's okay, 'membah last night? You ran into me? 'membah?" Eve searched her mind for the events he spoke of. "I remember." Eve said carefully, she didn't like being the center of attention, it always meant trouble. "What happened? Where am I?" the auburn haired girl asked quietly. Jack with the rest of the Newsies watched the exchange between Spot and the gorgeous young woman in the bed. Jack couldn't be certain, but it looked like her eyes were a mix of silver and green? Her eyes, what ever color they may be, were shining as she was trying hard to remember what had happened to her. "Aftah you'se ran into me, you'se passed out, so I carried you'se heah. Dis heah's da Manhattan Boahding House." Eve looked down, uncertain of what to say or do. "Oh," was all she said. Spot looked at Cowboy, unsure of how to proceed, for the first time in a long while. "Well," Jack said, trying to get the young woman in front of him to open up, "what's yoah name Princess?" Eve continued staring at her bed cover as she spoke. "Eve," was her single answer. "Well," Spot said trying to break the tension, "leas' now I know de name of me attackah." Eve looked up a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "Well, Eve, why don't we introduce ouhselves, I'se Cowboy, but you can call me Jack." Jack said holding out his hand tentatively. Eve eyed his hand for a moment before she shook it. "And dees bums," Jack said motioning to the boys crowded in the doorway, "dees ah de boys. We'll intaduce yah once you'se feelin' bettah." Eve looked at the group of misfits, and decided that there really weren't as many of them as she had originally thought. "And I, I'se Spot, Spot Conlon, pleasah to meet you'se" Spot said taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. Eve looked up and met Spot's gaze. His eyes, were a beautiful ice blue. Full of experience, pain, and a deep hidden sorrow. Spot broke the staring contest first, once he heard Racetrack snickering. "And you'se, you'se got a deat' wish?" Spot asked. Racetrack smirked and shook his head slightly. He wasn't afraid of the leader of Brooklyn. "Well, boys, I t'ink it's time to go sell some papes." The Newsies took the obvious hint and left, except for Jack. "So, Spot, what should we do wid 'a?" Jack asked, in hushed tone so Eve wouldn't hear him. "Don't know 'bout you'se but I'se gonna stay heah and take cah o' Eve. To tell you'se da trute, I'se feel kinda in chahge of 'a, ya know?" Spot said no longer paying attention to Jack, his eyes set on the young woman in the bed. "Yeah, shoah. Well, I godda go sell me papes. I'll come check on you'se latah." Jack turned to go, "hey Spot, what should we call 'a?" Eve looked at the two boys, a confused expression evident on her face. "What I mean is Doll," Jack exclaimed now speaking to Eve, "we'se all got nicknames, and you'se should have one two since you'se stayin' wit us." Eve nodded, *this will be good,* Eve thought, *it'll be harder for them to find me if I don't use my real name.* "So, what should we call 'a?" Spot asked, looking at Eve. "How's 'bouts Silent, oah Gohgeous, oah..." Jack looked to Spot for help. "Tacit," Spot said almost as an afterthought. "How's 'bouts Tacit?" "Tacit? What da hell's Tacit mean?" Jack asked. "I dunno. I read it in a pape yestahday. It sounded like a good woihd." Spot said trying to justify "his name". "It means," Eve said quietly, but with more certainty than before, "silent, or unspoken." Jack and Spot looked at each other, "Poifect!" the two boys said in unison. "See ya latah Tacit," Jack said winking before exiting the room. "So, Tacit, I guess it's just you'se and me. Ah ya feelin' any bettah?" Spot asked trying not to sound too concerned but failing. "Yes, much, thank you." Tacit replied. Tacit knew Eve wasn't gone for good, Eve was in the back of her mind, in her subconscious, never to be completely erased. "Don't worry 'bout it. So, you want sometin' to eat?" Tacit nodded lightly, and waited patiently for Spot to come back with some nourishment. *He is gorgeous,* her heart whispered, *yes, but he's probably taken, or worse a womanizer. I saw that look in his eyes when he tried come onto me all suave and slick.* Her head retaliated. Tacit ended her internal debate when Spot knocked on the door and entered carrying a tray with soup, crackers, and some water. "Hope you'se like chicken noodle. 's all I could make," Spot said partially ashamed at his lack of cooking skills. "It smells wonderful, thank you." Spot blushed slightly, but didn't comment. "So, wheah you'se from?" the dirty blonde asked Tacit, trying his best to make polite conversation. "The Bronx," Tacit said before taking another spoonful of soup. "Whatch you'se doing out heah?" Spot asked. Tacit took another sip of soup before answering, "I'd rather not talk about it, if that's okay?" Spot nodded. He understood better than most about a painful history and how much it hurt just to thinkabout it. She just wasn't ready to talk about it, but he'd be there to listen when she was ready. TBC If I get POSITIVE emails lol :) |
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