Brooklyn Baby | Spot Conlon ¹

Chp. 6: King of New York

"Kensta, where was you last night? We almost played pok-ah." Kid Blink asks me.

"Probably off in Massachusetts, at the rate she travels." Race says with a grin.

"For ya infah-mation, I was over in Harlem."

"With Skiddy? Again?" Race groans. "Ya know, we startin' ta think--"

"Don't finish that sentence, Race. Skid is just a friend, and always will be a friend. I was just askin' him if he was gonna be here today, helpin' us soak the scabs."

"And?"

"He said he wouldn't miss it," I reply. Race nods excitedly, and we exit the lodge. All of us walk over to the Square, ready to soak some scabbers.

"Let's soak 'em for Crutchy!"

We all charge, and start our battle of sorts. I sock a man in the eye, and look around. Everyone was at action, doing their best to beat the scabbers. Unfortunately, we weren't enough.

As if on cue, we hear a voice yell:

"Never fear, Brooklyn is here!"

"It's Brooklyn!" Mush yells, holding off a scabber.

How heroic. I see the Brooklyn newsies, sure enough, aiming their slingshots at the scabbers. They hit their targets, and shoot a couple more. Jack shouts for Spot, who comes swingin' down on a zip-line. He must plan these things out, I swear.

I see Race kick a man where the sun don't shine, and I laugh. Spot and my brother spit-shake, and he whacks a few guys in the head with that beloved cane of his. He goes over to the gates and yanks them open, letting in another army of newsies.

After fighting, all of us are together in a group, laughing or looking at each other. I see Spot and quickly tug him into the group. My arm was still on his wrist, his other hand reaching to me as if to catch himself. I see a flash, and Denton snapping a picture. I let go of Spot's wrist, and he just grins.

"If it ain't da King a Brooklyn,"

"In the flesh,"

"What made ya come?"

"I did some thinkin' last night, and I decided that you guys are worth gettin' our heads into."

"Wow, you was thinkin'?" I tease.

"I was, look at the affect ya have on me."

~~

"Ken, wake up." Jack shakes me.

"Why? We ain't sellin' papes, we s'pposed ta be sleepin' in." I say groggily.

"We meetin' Denton at Tibby's. He got somethin' ta show us. Meet us there in five," He tugs on his cap and walks out. I groan, get up, and get changed. All the newsies are probably outside, or in the main room of the lodge. I get dressed in five minutes, brush my hair, and pull on my cap.

I walk over to Tibby's with Kid Blink and Race. Inside, the other newsies were sittin' around. They were drinking root beer, which usually, we don't do unless it's a special occasion.

"Don't you look like a million bucks, Ken." Race calls. I roll my eyes.

"It's that kind a sweet talk that motivates me to wake up every mornin', Race." He hands me a glass of root beer, and I sip some of it.

"She ain't a mornin' person, fellas." I hear a familiar voice. I turn to see a smirking .

"Well if ain't my good 'ol Skid." I say, walking over to spit-shake with him. He grins.

"I'd know, anyways. Ya used to stay over in Harlem before you was old enough to come back to 'Hattan durin' night hours. This one used to be terrified of tha dark--"

"That's enough of that, why are we here?" I look around. I see Spot over near the corner, leaning against the wall with his glass of root beer. He holds it up towards me, as to say hello. I tip the brim of my cap, smiling slightly. I pick up my glass, and take another sip, when Denton comes in. He's holding a pape. He slams it down on the table in front of Jack. We all gather around to see the group picture of us. Of course, there's me on the far right, holding Spot's wrist.

"Wouldja get ya hands off me face?" Jack asks.

"Kensta, why is you holdin' hands wit Spot?" Mush asks, grinning.

"He wasn't lookin' at tha camera, so I yanked him in the picture. God knows Spot Conlon would go crazy if he wasn't in tha picture." I say. I glance at Spot, who's smirking and shaking his head.

"You got us on tha front page!" David says.

"You got yourselves on the front page," Denton replies. "You just got to make sure you stay there."

"So, what? You get ya picture in the papes, what does that get ya?" Skittery, the pessimist of the newsies, says.

"What are you talkin' about?" Mush asks.

"Yeah, you's been in a bad mood all day!" I say, shoving Skittery.

"Glum and dumb," Race shoves Skittery's face. "You get ya picture in the papes, you famous. You famous, ya get anything ya want. That's what's so great about New York,"

Everyone cheers in agreement. Mush sits backwards in his chair, staring off dreamily.

"A pair of new shoes with matchin' laces," He says.

"A permanent box at Sheepshead Races," Race says, bumping his fist into his hand.

"A porcelain tub with boilin' wata," Spot sings. His voice isn't that bad, it actually sounds good. He holds his root beer, a smirk on his face. All he wants is a porcelain tub, eh? That boy is a mystery to me.

"A Saturday night with the mayor's daughta!" Kid Blink raves. I scoff.

"Look at me, I'm the King of New York!
Suddenly, I'm respectable,
starin' right at ya,
lousy wit statcha'." Race sings.

"Nobbin' with all the muckety mucks
I'm blowin' my dough and goin' deluxe," Jack sings, leaning back with the pape.

I snatch the pape from his hands with a smug grin. I point to my picture.

"And there I be, ain't I pretty?"

"It's my city, I'm the King of New York!" They all join in.

"A corduroy suit with fitted knickas!" Boot sings.

"A mezzanine seat to see the flickas," Les adds.

"Havana cigars that cost a quarter," Snipeshooter continues.

"An editor's desk for the star reporter!" David says, and Denton sits, unfolding the pape.

"Tip your hat, he's the King of New York!" We all sing, crowding around Denton.

"How 'bout that, I'm the King of New York!" He sings back.

"​In nothing flat,
He'll be covering
Brooklyn to Trenton,
Our man Denton!"

"Makin' a headline out of a hunch!" Kid Blink yells.

"Protecting the weak," Denton says.

"And payin' for lunch," Race adds smugly.

"When I'm at bat, strong men crumble," Denton says, sitting down.

"Proud yet humble," I add.

"He's the King of New York,"

"I gotta be either dead or dreamin',
'Cause look at that pape with my face beamin',
Tomorrow they may wrap fishes in it,
But I was a star for one whole minute!" We all sing.

A couple of boys get up at start tap dancing, and then they clear the way. I run across a table, kick my foot against the wall, and flip off it, landing back on the table. I laugh at Skid, who was clapping with Mush to the music.

"Starting now, I'm the King of New York!"

"Ain't ya heard, I'm the King of New York!" Denton sings.

"Holy cow, it's miracle
Pulitzer's cryin'
Weasel, he's dyin',"

"Flashpots are shootin' bright as the sun,
I'm one highfalutin' son of a gun.
Don't ask me how,
Fortune found me,
Fate just crowned me,
Now I'm King of New York!"

"Look and see,
Once a piker,
Now a striker,
I'm the King of New York,"

"Victory!
Front page story,
Guts and glory,
I'm the King of New York!"

I'm standing next to Skid at the end of the song, leaning on him. I look over at Jack, who's still beaming at himself in the paper. I see Spot leaning against the wall, arms crossed, smirking. I nod at him, and he returns the favor.

A waitress comes over, handing us more root beer.

"To our man, Denton!" We all clink glasses after deciding to organize a rally.

Now, everyone was just chatting like before. I sipped my new root beer, whilst Skid talked to me.

"Ya know, our Jackie boy is bringin' a date to dis rally," Skid said, smirking.

"What?"

"Yeah, David's sista!"

"What?!" I laughed. "David has a sista!?"

"Yeah, goil's name is Sarah,"

"Good for Jackie," I say, still laughing at the thought of my brother on a date.

"Congrats to Jack fer scorin' a date with Davey's sista!" Mush yelled happily, earning a scowl from Jack.

"Wait, we's bringin' dates to tha rally?" Race asked, confused.

"No, we ain't, you fellas couldn't find a goil in that short of notice," I say with a smirk, sipping my drink.

"Well, we know you," Kid Blink says.

"I don't count," I scoff. "Like I'm gonna go on a date with you blockheads,"

"It's a rally, no one's gettin' on a date with me sista," Jack said, so all the newsies heard him. "And that's final,"

"What a shame," Skid laughed.

"How's your goil back in Harlem?" I ask him.

"Eh, I dunno. We ain't been talkin',"

"You sound so devastated," I say sarcastically. I knew his girl in Harlem, her name was Ginny. She was loud. They were on and off a lot. He always told me about it.

"So, we meet at the theat-ah tomorrow night?" I heard Spot ask Jack, who nodded. "Alright, then, I'm outta here."

He started to walk out, and slowed down when he walked past near me. He said something for only me to hear.

"Dock, after dark."

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sorry