Spot Conlon's Daughter

Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Newsies or any characters from Newsies. I only own Jessabelle. Please don’t sue me. J

Spot’s POV

“Hi. I’m Jessabelle Belcher.” I turned towards where the voice was coming from. There stood a little girl who couldn’t be any older than 12. She had striking blue eyes and long, straight brown hair. She looks so familiar, I just don’t understand why.

“Why hello dere Jessabelle. I’se Jack Kelly,” Jack spoke up. “What is ya doin’ out here without your muddah?”

“Well, actually I was hoping that I could become a newsie.”

“Okay Jessabelle. Let’s head ovah to da lodgin’ house and get ya set up wid Kloppmann.”

“Sounds great!” We started to walk from Central Park to the Manhattan lodging house to get Jessabelle a bed and everything. While we were walking Jack and Jessabelle were chatting and I was thinking about where I recognized her from when suddenly part of their conversation caught my attention.

 “So Jessabelle, why is you thinkin’ a’ becomin’ a newsie?” Jack inquired.

“I have no one left for me in my life. My father walked out on my mom and me when I was 2 or 3. Then just last week, my mom…um…died.” Jessabelle started to tear up. Her dad walked out on her when she was 2 or 3. Gosh, this reminded me of 10 years ago. Just then we arrived at the lodging house.  

            “Hey Spot. Do you wanna come in? You could help me introduce the guys.”

            “Shoah. Nobody is expectin’ me till latah.” We start up the steps to lodging house. Jessabelle looks like she’s about to throw up. Jack has a protective arm around her as if to say nobody can touch her. When we walk in all the guys look up to greet Jack but all fall silent once they see Jessabelle.

            “Hiya boys. Dis here is Jessabelle. Jessabelle, dese are da boys. Dis is David, his little bruddah Les, Racetrack, Crutchie, Mush, Kid Blink, Boots, Snitch, Jake, Itey, Snipeshooter, Dutchy and Specs,” Jack says as he points to all of them. “But don’t ya worry if ya can’t remembah all a’ der names. Anyways, it’s late. I’ll pay foah your foist night. Let’s getcha a bed.”