Brooklyn Baby | Spot Conlon ¹

Chp. 8: Rally

Third Person Pov

"Yo, Kenna, is ya fully-clothed?" Skiddy says, leaning against the door of the newsies' room at the lodge. When she was with him in Harlem once, he walked in while she was in only a towel.

"Sure am," She called back. He nodded and opened the door, finding her brushing her hair with a small, old comb.

"You ready to head ova' to tha theater?"

"Yeah, sure," She replies, putting the comb down. She pulled on her cap, and followed him outside. They walked together across the streets, coming to the front theater entrance. It was weird for her, she usually entered from Medda's backstage rooms.

"How's it rollin', Kenny and Skiddy?" Race greeted them. He was on the watch for Bulls at the moment, and watched as several newsies filed into the theater.

"Howdy, Race." She said before the pair walked inside. Kenny was wearing her best jeans, and an over-sized button down shirt that was tucked in with the sleeves rolled up. The buttons were slightly unbuttoned at the top, but not too far down, or Jack would have a fit.

"Nice ta' see ya, Spot." Race says, grinning.

"How are ya, Race?"

"Fine 'n dandy, you?"

"Peachy,"

"I know what this is," Race says, smirking, and balancing on the balls of his feet. He'd get a good kick out of this.

"I dunno whatcha talkin' bout," Spot says, a hard expression playing on his face.

"You's seein' Ken 'n Skiddy walkin' in togetha,"

"I see 'em, but I don't care,"

"If ya wonderin', what she says is true. They only friends," Race starts, waving at Boots, who walked in. "They got a complicated history togetha."

"Don't we all have complicated histories," Spot commented.

"Not sure how much I can tell ya, Spotty, but I do know this: She lived in Harlem for a couple of months. Can't tell ya why, but he took her in when she needed it. He was her shoulder 'ta cry on, and that's that. Nuthin' more, nuthin' less. After that, she always was ova' there. They became better friends than they were before she went to Harlem the first time."

"I remember da first time we sent her ova' there," Race continued. "Jack needed Skiddy's consent 'fa somethin, don't remember what. She went for him, and she instantly liked Skiddy. She thought he was funny. He invited her to come back a couple times, then it became a matta' of droppin' in whenever she pleased."

"Jack just lets her roam around?" Spot asked.

"Nah, he don't. He doesn't like her travelling. She gets on tha' short train, and rides it 'til she gets bored. Ends up in Staten Island, maybe Queens. She was just in Jersey, and Jack wasn't a happy campa'."

"Why does she just leave?"

"She is definitely Jack's sista," Race laughed. "They both want a taste of adventure. Jack wants to leave the state and go out West, but she ain't so keen on that. She'd much rather roam around, but have a definite home to return to every night."

"I think tha' rally's gonna start." Spot says, going inside with Race.

Spot was somewhat glad to hear that Kenny didn't want to go out West. He wasn't sure why, but she excited him. She was a thrill ride, that Kenny Kelly. He wanted her to stick around for a while.

Kenny's Pov

I was standing on Medda's stage with Jack and David.

"Now, I know all the Harlem boys know me little sista," Jack says. Harlem yells and waves from scattered spots in the crowd. "But, I don't believe all the boys from Queens 'n Brooklyn know her."