Come Sail Away * Spot Conlon Love Story *

Chapter 17: Trouble

"GUYS! HELP! JACK!" I yelled as I kicked the door of the Manhattan lodging house down. I stumbled inside with an unconscious Racetrack leaning on me with his arm around my shoulder so I could carry his weight.

I heard the footsteps of every newsies come pounding down the steps, Jack being the first one down. He jumped the last three steps and rushed over immediately. He took Race off of me and picked him up with ease. He ran back up the steps at lightning speed, me following behind him even though I was ready to fall over.

I watched Jack place Race down on the bed and Specs rush over to examine him. I stood at the end of the bed with my hand over my mouth, trying to muffle my sobs. Jack got out of Specs way and came over to stand beside me with his arm around my shoulder. Specs got to work immediately as more newsies came back upstairs. He ripped Race's shirt off to reveal a horrifying sight.

"Shit. He was stabbed. BOOTS! Go grab me da thread, needle, and whiskey dat Skittery hides under his bed. Boots nodded immediately and Skittery looked at Specs confused.

"How did he know 'bout dat?" I would've laughed if Race wasn't bleeding on his bunk right now. Boots retrieved the things Specs needed and backed up to stand next to Jack. Jack grabbed him by the shoulder and whispered in his ear.

"Run ta Brooklyn and get Spot. We might need him fa dis one." Boots nodded and ran out the door. I looked at Jack confused because I didn't know why we needed Spot.

"Why did you'se say we'se needed Spot?" I asked quietly. Jack gulped and stared back at Racetrack lying on the bed as Specs stitched his wound.

"Spot is da most powerful newsie in New York. I'se afraid another newsie did dis to Race, and if dat's true...den we'se got a fight on our hands. Spot's da only one who can help us."

Another burrow did this to Race? No, that can't be true. We just fought a strike with every burrow 6 months ago! There's no way we could be turning on each other now...right?

I watched Specs finish up with Race and walk over to Jack and I.

"I'se think he's ok. Da stab wasn't deep, he got lucky on dat. He'll be in pain fa a few weeks, but he'll heal." Jack nodded and patted him on the back.

"Thanks man."

"Thank you'se, Specs." Specs nodded at the both of us, then turned to the washroom to clean Race's blood off of his hands. I shuddered thinking about Race's blood on him, then I realized his blood was also soaked through my shirt. I just stared at it, completely scarred. Jack looked at me worriedly.

"Maybe you'se should wash up, sis." I nodded slowly, barely hearing what he said. I slowly walked over to my bed, grabbed a shirt, then walked in to the washing room. As I was going through the door, Specs passed me.

"You'se saved him." I stopped in my tracks. I turned my head to see Specs talking to me. "If you'se didn't find him, he'd be dead right now." And with that he was gone.

I emotionlessly took my clothes off and sat down in our only tub. I hugged my knees to my chest as I thought about about what I saw. I couldn't get the picture of Race lying on the ground, lifeless out of my head. That's my best friend. My best friend who was always talking my ear off, was laying on the ground barely breathing.

The thought that this could be another newsie burrow attack was even more frightening. The burrows have gotten in to fights before, but ever since the strike we haven't had one argument. I remember when Hattan almost got in to a fight with the Bronx. During that time, there were several fist fights between us and someone always stayed up at night on watch. Our dispute was settled though. That was a long time ago though. Others burrows fought then too, but the Bronx was one for starting trouble. Could they be at it again?

I'll have to see what Spot thinks. He probably knows just as much as the rest of us though because if he knew something, he would've told us. Maybe I'll talk to Strike tomorrow. He might know something. And if we have a fight on our hands, we're gonna need more people on our side.

I slowly got out of the tub. I grabbed one of our only towels and dried myself off. I slipped on one of Jack's shirts along with my pants, hat, and suspenders. I untied my hair that I kept up during my bath and let it fall down in to it's natural curls. I stepped out of the washroom to see that no one was up in the bunkroom. Well, except an unconscious Race.

I stepped closer to his cot as I examined him. He was so still. It was scary, seeing him be so still. I moved towards him and sat down on his cot next to him. I picked up his cold, limp hand and interlaced my fingers with his even though he couldn't return the gesture. His face was battered and bruised and the stab wound was definitely going to be painful for him when he woke up.

"You'se can't leave me Race," I said with tears in my eyes. "You'se are my best friend. It's always been me and you'se. Do you'se remember a couple years ago when we snuck in to dat party dat Midtown was having? Jack was so mad." I laughed at the fond memory, before I remembered Race wasn't laughing with me. "You'se gotta wake up soon Race." I stood up and pressed a kiss to his forehead. I backed away and stepped in to the hallway. I took a deep breathe and wiped my tears.

"You'se think it's dat bad, Spot?" I heard Jack say. Wait, Spot is here?

Quietly, I snuck down the hallways and halfway down the steps. I peaked out to see Jack and Spot talking at the bottom of the stairs, alone.

"Maybe. We'se can't know fa sure yet. Not until dey strike again."

"So we'se are just supposed ta wait until dey hoit anoda newsie!" I yelled while scampering down the stairs. I stood between Jack and Spot, looking between the both of them. Spot turned angry when I looked at him. He took a step closer to me and gave me his infamous death glare.

"We'se don't have a choice. We'se can't just go around blaming all da burrows. Whetha you'se like it or not, ya betta keep your mouth shut." I gasped silently at how Spot spoke to me. He has never spoken to me like this before, as if he owned me. No one was going to tell me what to do.

"You'se are telling ME what ta do, huh? Well, guess what? You'se are not my fada or my babysitta." I got up close to him and stood my ground, giving him a death glare. This only made him angrier.

"Keep talkin' ta me like dat, and I'se won't be ya boyfriend either." My face went slack. I stared at Spot's stone facial expression. I could feel Jack's breath in his throat. I could hear my own heart beat. Then, Spot's face started to crumble.

"Kat, I'se didn't mean dat-." He was cut off when I shoved pass him, hitting his shoulder as I walked by.

I ran outside and sat down on the front steps of the orphanage. I put my head in my hands and tried to viciously wipe the tears off of my face. I groaned because I was mad at myself for getting so upset. I don't know how Spot and I can just explode so quickly. Last time we had a fight, Race told me it was because "we both have stubborn personalities". Maybe he was right. I am stubborn and so is he. But that doesn't mean he can talk to me as if I am his private property. Like he is above me and I'm just his maid or something. No way.

I looked up from my lap and breathed as I looked at the empty streets. I reminisced about all the memories I've had here. When Jack and I first came to the lodging house, when Race and I would play tag outside, when Mush would tell me about his girlfriend problems, to when the strike happened and when I first met Spot. After my first thought about Spot, all the ones that followed were about him. From the first day we met, to the newsies rally, to now. I should talk to him. I know I really love him, but sometimes we just butt heads. I'll talk to him tomorrow.

I stood up and went to go back inside the lodging house, when I heard a noise down the street. I turned my head and squinted to see through the dark. Standing across and down the road, was the same figure that I saw when leaving Brooklyn. Why would Spot be out here? Maybe he's leaving to get back to Brooklyn.

I waved to him, and again he waited before waving back slowly. He is so weird.

I turned around and went back inside the lodging house. Only the thing is, I didn't expect to see someone still in there talking to Jack.

It was Spot.