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The next morning, Birdie was last to wake. Even Spot was up before she was. He had walked, rather, been helped over to the washroom. Birdie awoke to Jack shaking her.
"Hunh? What?" she mumbled, still not awake.
"Time ta git up, Kathryn," Jack said.
Birdie opened her eyes fully and looked where she was. She was still sitting on the floor next to Spot's bed. She stretched and looked over at Spot's bed. He was gone! She quickly looked around the rest of the room and finally spotted him in the washroom with most everyone else.
She slowly stood up and said, "Thanks, Jack." Then she walked over to the washroom where Spot was. "I sees yer feelin' bettah," she said to Spot as she leaned against the archway to the washroom.
Spot nodded and said, "Yeah. I'se is." He said it in his usual way and gave her his trademark smirk. The other newsies laughed and continued about their business. "Ya think yer up ta sellin' papes wit' me taday?" Spot asked Birdie.
"Spot, I don't think yer up ta it yerself. You need yer rest....." she said. "Aftah what happened last night," she added after a short pause.
"It was woith a try, Spot, sorry," Race said.
Birdie laughed and went back into the bunkroom. She began to pick up all the sheets that had blood on them. It would be almost impossible to get the blood stains out, but maybe if she used lye soap, or maybe bleach.
Spot walked slowly back into the bunkroom, leaning heavily on his cane. He had made it most of the way across the room on his own, but he tripped, and Birdie got there just in time to catch him. She wasn't going to let him hurt himself any more than he already was. Birdie helped him over to a bunk, and he sat down.
"Thanks," he said quietly. He heard her say yer welcome, but she didn't say it. This confused him. Spot watched her pick up the sheets and bring them downstairs. He assumed she brought them down to Kloppman to ask where she could wash them up.
Just then, the guys walked back through the bunk room ready to go to work. A few of them stopped by Spot to talk. Among them were Mush, Race, Bumlets, Blink, Specs, Skittery, and Jack. Spot looked up at all of them and laughed for a second. He held his side; it hurt to laugh.
"Ya want us ta bring ya a pape ta read in heah?" Specs asked. "Seein' as how Birdie ain't gonna let ya leave any time soon."
"Yeah, sounds good," Spot answered with a nod.
The group talked for a few more minutes before they had to be at the circulation office. Jack always had to be first in line, to peruse the merchindise for everone else. The group bid Spot goodbye and left the lodging house. Birdie walked back upstairs with some breakfast.
"Here, Spot. Ya hungry?" Birdie asked.
Spot nodded. "Shoa; what is it?" he said.
"A muffin from 'cross da street 'n' some milk." Spot made a face at the milk. "Don't give me dat. Ya need some milk in dat body a yers. It'll do ya good. I've drinkin' milk ever' day fer me whole life. Ya kin savive it fer a day er two." She was mocking him.
Spot gave in and accepted the glass of milk. He thought to himself, "Well, I guess milk really does do a body good." He was checking her out; she had a great body. Birdie shot him a will-ya jist-eat-yer-breakfast look. He imediatly began eating.
"Thanks fer da food," Spot said after a few minutes.
Birdie nodded. "Say, Spot. I've been meanin' ta ask ya. Who did dat ta ya yesterday?" Birdie asked.
"I don't really know. It was real quick dat dey did it. One minute I was walkin' down 57th, da next I was bein' soaked. Den, latah dat day. I remembah somethin' real strange. Like a glow a pain er somethin' like dat. I felt like I was bein' pulled back here. It hoit, but I was happy dat it happened aftawoids. Ya know what I'se tawkin' bout?" Spot said.
Throughout what Spot had been saying, Birdie was rubbing her bandaged hand. She wondered if it had finally stopped bleeding. She thought about what exactly Spot had said before answering him. She looked into his eyes and began. "Yeah, I know what yer tawkin' bout."
"Ya do!? Ya know what it is?" Spot asked.
"Unfortunately, I do." Spot looked at her confused. Birdie began to slowly unwrap her hand.
Just then Specs and Boots walked in, each carrying papers. "We got yer pape, Spot," Specs said cheerily.
Boots nodded and said, "I got some real good shooters, too."
Birdie laughed and hid her hand, which was now unbandaged. Spot put his hand out to receive them. They were real nice colorful marbles. They would do very nicely when Spot could use his slingshot again. Spot looked them over and stuck them into his pocket.
"Yeah. Thanks, Boots. Tanks fer da pape, too, Specs," he said. He wasn't really too fond of Specs, and Specs knew it. But Spot would be nice to Specs if he really had to. Spot also knew that if he didn't thank him for it, Birdie would reprimand him severely.
"See you'se two latah," Specs and Boots both said, leaving the room.
"So, what 'bout dat thing ya was tellin' me 'bout," Spot said, referring to their previous conversation. Birdie hoped he would forget, she really wasn't up to explaining it.
Birdie looked at the palms of both her hands and then showed them to Spot. He was rather confused. On her left hand was a gash that looked like it had been recent, and on her right hand was a burn mark. Spot studied her palms and then looked at her. He was still confused. Spot's thoughts began to churn. Then he looked at his own hands. His right was bandaged. He unwrapped it and looked at his palm. He, too, had a gash across his palm. He looked at his other hand. A burn mark was there, too. He looked up at Birdie again.
Birdie sat down next to Spot and took a deep breath. "I found dis amulet, a red stone on a gold back plate. I looked at it fer a long time last night. After a time, I knew exactly what it was. Den, I took one a da razor blades 'n' cut inta both our palms. Den I took da amulet 'n' put it between our odder hands. Den I closed me eyes 'n' was overcome wit' pain. It hoit so much, Spot." She was almost crying. Spot put his arm around her shoulders in comfort. "It hoit so much. I could.... feel a warm glow 'round us. Den da pain became so much I couldn't take it no more. I let go 'n'.... Next thing I knew, I was lyin' on da floor 'n' still holdin' dat blasted amulet. I wrapped up both our hands an' den stood at da window fer da longest time." Spot was looking at Birdie, still somewhat confused. He didn't understand why she was crying.
"Kathryn, why ya cryin'?" Spot asked turning up her face to look at him.
"Because, I did it. Somethin' I thought I'd nevah evah do meself." She began sobbing so much that she just couldn't talk anymore. Spot comforted her and after several minutes she stopped crying. They just sat there, Birdie leaning up against Spot, and Spot with his arms around her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Out on the streets of Manhattan, the newsies were all selling their papers like nothing had ever happened. Jack, Davey, and Les were still selling together. (Geez, you'd think after a year they'd get sick of selling together. Apparently not.)
"Ya think he's gonna be awright, Cowboy?" Les asked.
"Coise he is, Les. Spot Conlon don't let nuthin' git 'im down," Jack answered. Even though he was very worried about Spot.
Spot had never been soaked that badly before, and Jack didn't want him to die. After all, who'd be his best friend if he died. Also, who'd date his sister- well all the newsies wanted to- but who'd she date that she liked nearly as much as she likes Spot? What'd the newsies do without Spot around. They'd never again be revered.
"Ya really think so?" David asked skeptically as Les ran off to sell a few papers by himself.
"I don't now what I think, Dave. I want him ta be betta. It wouldn't be New Yawk wit'out him, ya know," Jack answered. Davey nodded, and they continued selling their papers.
~~~~~~~
In Central Park, Blink and Mush were selling together; something they did sometimes. It was almost lunch time, and their hearts really weren't into selling papers that day.
"Whadda ya think?" Blink asked.
"'Bout what?" Mush asked.
"'Bout Spot. Ya think he'll make it?" Blink answered.
"Coise. Ya saw 'im dis mornin'. He was walkin' 'n' ever'thin'. Why wouldn't 'e git betta?" Mush said.
"I don't know," Blink answered. "It's jist dat I had dis weird dream last night, 'bout Spot 'n' Boidie. Dey was dead but not really. It was weird, 'n' it's been buggin' me," he explained.
"Maybe you should tawk wit' 'er 'bout it. She's real loined 'n' stuff. She could, I dunno, tell ya what it means er somethin'," Mush said. Blink shrugged, and they both went back to selling their papers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In Queens, everyone was worried about Birdie. She usually wasn't gone this long. Maybe the day and she got in late that night, but not one day and half of another day. This was very unusual. Of course they'd all heard about Spot being soaked, but they had no clue that Birdie was sweet on him. They just figured that she enjoyed walking around Brooklyn, which she actually did. Not because of Spot- because Brooklyn was fun to walk around. No one ever tried to hurt her. They knew that if they did, they'd have to deal with pretty much every single person in New York, especially Spot.
"Hey, Doogs," yelled Mac. Doogs stopped and turned around. "Ya seen Boidie?" Mac asked.
"I saw her yestahday, why?" Doogs said.
"She ain't come back yet. I'se worried 'bout 'er. She ain't nevah gone dis long befoa. Where'd she go last ya know?" Mac said.
"Uh, she went ta Manhattan afta I told her 'bout Spot. She's pro'ably still dere, tendin' ta 'im er somethin'," Doogs answered.
"Could'ja go check 'n' see if she is? I'd go meself, but I gots a date wit' Caroline," Mac explained. Caroline was his girl.
Doogs nodded and said, "Shoa, I'll see ya latah." With that, the two boys parted. Doogs to Manhattan and Mac to the Queens Lodging House to clean up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the lodging house in Manhattan, Spot was sitting on a bunk reading the days paper. Birdie was on the roof putting the sheets up to dry. The news was pretty slow that day; Spot was almost glad he didn't have to try to sell it. A few minutes later Birdie walked in, and Spot looked up.
"Hey ya dere, Dollface," he said as she walked in.
Birdie just smiled and shook her head. "Ya feelin' bettah?" she asked.
"Shoa am. See fer yerself." He folded his paper and layed it on the bed. Then he stood up and walked over to her, without his cane.
Birdie, astonished, chuckled. "Yer right, Spot. Ya do look like yer feelin' bettah," she said as he walked up beside her. "How's yer head? Ya gots a real bad bruise dere."
"Let's find out." Birdie looked confusedly at him. He took her by the waist, dipped her, and kissed her.
A minute later, "Yeah, I'd say yer head's feelin' fine," she said, still astonished that he'd actually kissed her. Of course she'd wanted him to in the first place, but, still. "Awright, Spot, enough fun fer now. Yer gonna rest up da rest a da day 'n', tamorrer, ya kin go back ta Brooklyn. Dat sound good?" she said.
"Sounds great!" Spot exclaimed. Spot went back to reading his paper. He motioned for Birdie to go with him, but she shook her head.
Then she went over to her usual spot, the window, and looked out. She looked down to the street for a minute and saw someone she knew. "Hey, Doogs!" she yelled out the window. Doogs looked up and waved. Birdie smiled, laughed, and waved back. Doogs walked into the lodging house and up the bunk room.
"Heya, Boidie. So dis is where you'se been hidin'," Doogs commented as he entered. "Yer lookin' bettah, Spot," he said as he walked over to where Spot was sitting. He sat down on the opposite bunk.
"Hows it rollin', Doogs?" Spot said as Doogs was sitting down.
"Jist fine, Spot. Thanks fer askin'. Boidie noissin' ya back ta health?" he asked, almost teasing Spot about it.
"She shoah is, Doogs; she shoah is," Spot said, looking up at her.
Birdie smiled and looked over to Doogs. "So, Doogs. What're ya doin' here?" she asked.
"Mac was worried 'bout ya. He woulda come hisself, but he had a lunch date wit' Caroline," Doogs answered with a shrug.
"Speakin' a lunch..." Spot started, hoping they'd get the hint.
"Oh, lunch. Think yer up ta Tibby's?" Birdie directed her question to Spot.
Spot grinned; he really wanted to get out of there. He hated being cooped up in one place for too long. "Absolutely!" he said, jumping up.
"Awright den. Doogs, ya comin'?" Birdie said.
"Shoa, why not. I ain't got nuthin' bettah ta do on such a nice day," he answered, following Spot and Birdie out the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In Tibby's the newsies were all eating lunch. They weren't really in a cheery mood yet. So much had happened in the past two days. They were all just eating and talking- even when someone attempted a joke, all it got was a "yeah, dat was funny" as a respnse. The newsies were really down that day. Then Birdie, Doogs, and Spot entered. All the newsies instantly brightened when they saw him walk in.
"Hey, Doogs!!" a bunch of the younger newsies yelled when he walked in. Doogs just had to laugh at them. They loved his name. It was so much fun to say. Everyone thought the same thing, but they were nicer about it. They just said his name way too often.
"Heya, boys," Birdie said cheerily.
Jack stood up and walked over to his sister. "Did'ja hafta soak 'im dat bad ta git 'im ta come heah? I din't think he hated it dat much." All the newsies started laughing. The younger ones didn't get it. They thought Spot had been soaked by the Delanceys or someone. They were very confused, but they laughed along with everyone else anyway.
"Naw, Jack. All I had to do was ask nicely and do this," she answered and started to pet Jack's head.
Tibby's exploded with laughter again. Jack had as annoyed look on his face. He knew what she was doing though. She was trying to get the guys in better spirits. She was always good at that, whether she was beating them up, or romancing them, or just because she felt like laughing. She could get anyone to laugh at the strangest of times.
"That's great, Boidie," Blink said, still laughing uncontrollably.
"Come on, Spot; let's sit down," Birdie said, somewhat laughing herself. Spot, Doogs, Birdie, and Jack went to sit at a booth. A waiter came over and asked for their orders. "My treat boys," she said as they wondered what to order. They ordered, and the waiter left to fix it up.
"Thanks, Kathryn," Spot said, kissing her on the cheek.
Jack raised an eyebrow and grinned, even though he knew it was bound to happen. "Aww, shut-up," Birdie said as she saw Jack's grin. Jack just started chuckling.
They all ate their lunch and had a grand time at Tibby's that afternoon. They had never had such a good time after something like that had happened. No one expected to have such a good time the day after Spot almost died. Well, actually, he did die.
All the newsies started strolling out of Tibby's around 1:30 or so. Birdie and Spot went back to the lodging house. Jack and Doogs went off to sell their papers together. They hadn't talked in a while, and they were good friends. The rest of them split up and sold their papers with one or two others. Spot stayed in Manhattan the rest of that day, and the next morning Birdie walked with him to Brooklyn. He was really glad to be home.
THE END!!!
* One Tin Soldiar (The Legend of Billy Jack)
words and music by Dennis Lambert and Brian Potter
Copyright 1969 by ABC/Dunhill Music, Inc.
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