Brooklyn Baby | Spot Conlon ¹

Chp. 15: Understandable

"Come on, Kenny, wakey-wakey."

I groan into my pillow, shoving a face away. I knew it was Race's. He always woke up an hour before us to head to the tracks.

"Race, I swear, I will drop kick ya ta Staten if ya don't let me sleep,"

"Aw, you don't mean it. Come ta Sheepshead with me, Ken. It'll be fun!"

I sat up and glared at him. "Don't you remember what happened last time?"

"It was a pure accident--"

"I broke my arm!"

"Like I's said, an accident," He says.

The last time I went to the Sheepshead with Race, I ended up with a broken arm. Let's just say, the crowd favorite won the race, and a lot of people bet on that horse. I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"Fine," I said. I cut him off before he could cheer. "But I ain't goin' with ya to bet. I's gonna watch the horses,"

"It's a done deal," He grins. "Hurry and get dressed,"

I jumped down from the top bunk and walked over to the large dresser. I pulled out my good jeans, rolled them up, and clipped my suspenders to the pockets. I put on a button down, and rolled up the sleeves to my elbows. I buttoned down the top two buttons, higher than I usually wear it. Jack would throw a serious fit if he saw me with more than two buttons unbuttoned.

"To Sheepshead!" Race said excitedly. He always kept a special jar of extra money for betting. God knows why he doesn't use it for food.

"I's goin' ova' there to place some bets," He said pointing to the spot I remembered so well. "You can sit ova' there and watch the warm ups,"

I nod and make my way over to a white fence that separated the stands from the track. I lean on the fence and looked over many horses with their jockeys. I then looked off towards the bet windows, and I saw Race's short stature under his grey cap. He was talking to a man (that looked much older than him) in a somewhat animated conversation.

I laugh to myself before glancing back to the horses. I watch people walk by and notice a familiar face.

"Fetch?"

"Miss Kelly? Hello, I didn't expect to see you here,"

"Same here," I say. "What are ya doin' here so early?"

"Believe it or not, I actually enjoy watching horse races."

"I neva' woulda guessed,"

"What are you doing here, Miss Kelly?" He asks.

"You can call me Kenny, ya know. Or, if ya insist, Miss Sullivan. I guess I don't go by Kelly anymore, since tha' strike." I say as he nods. "Race dragged me here. This ain't really my type a fun, ya know?"

"Yeah, it's not for everyone."

"Not really," I say. "Admit it, Spot sent ya,"

"No, but I heard from someone that you're his girl now," He says. "Congratulations,"

I scoffed with a grin. "I's wouldn't take it for a 'congrats' type,"

"Spot doesn't feel that way often, so this is new."

"Yeah, well I don't want Jack findin' out, or Skiddy for that matter. Just keep ya messenga' mouth shut about it, got it?"

"Got it,"