Trapped Where There Ain't No Future

4

I'm not going back." I said as firmly as I could. "I can't."

Spot Conlon stepped in.
"She can stay heah."

I nodded once more before sinking down to the hard mattress and closing my eyes. Sleep came quickly.

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Flames licked at the windows, consuming the wooden planks of the house. I stumbled out of the burning building, ash on my clothes. In the distance, the fire engines drew closer. But they were too late. Too late to save the house, and my family with it. I screamed, a long drawn out sound. I crumpled to the ground in a heap, watching the only home I had ever known burn to the ground. Suddenly, a hand on my shoulder. I turned, expecting to see Calico, as I had for years in the dream. But instead I saw the face of Spot Conlon.

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I woke up confused. The dream had never changed before. In all the years I had had it, the few times it had continued until where I saw Calico, it was the same every time. The fire, the sounds, the smell of ash. But this time was different. Instead of Calico, I had seen Spot? What was that all about? Shaking my head to rid myself of the ever-haunting aftermath of the dream, I looked around. There was nobody there. The other girls' bunks were empty. Suddenly a hand pushed the curtain that divided the room aside. Spot stood behind it, one hand expertly twirling his cane.

"Good, you're awake." He said.

I nodded.

He looked at me for a second or two, then said, "Come on den."

"What?"

"Do youse want a job oah not?" Spot asked impatiently.

I nodded again.

"Den we's gotta go find ya one." He said.

"Okay." I said, and twisting my hair into a braid, trailed after Spot all the way out of the Brooklyn Lodging House.

"Come up heah wheah Ise can see ya." he ordered.

"Why?" I asked.

"So's I know you ain't tryin' ta stab me in da back oah somethin'."

I rolled my eyes but came up to walk next to Spot. "This good enough for ya?"

He nodded, then linked his arm in mine. I pulled away and narrowed my eyes at him. He smirked that infuriating smirk again. "What's da mattah sweethaht?"

"Keep your hands to yourself Conlon." I said. "Now, you gonna find me a job or what?"

"Picky picky." Spot shook his head. "Come on den Red, let's find ya some woik."

He led me to a small diner that had the name "Tibby's" marked on the door. Spot pushed open the door and marched to the back.

"Hey, you can't be back here- oh." An older man, probably the owner, caught sight of us.

"Red needs woik. Got any available?" Spot got straight to the point. I stood slightly behind him, unsure what to do.

"One o' my waitresses quit two days ago. I s'pose I could use the extra help. But can she work?" The man looked me up and down. I straightened as tall as I could (which wasn't very tall, Spot was an inch or two taller than me).

"Alright, I'll take her on for a trial day. You don't work, you're out." The man said to me. I nodded.

"The pay'll be $3 a week."