Of All the Things that I Don't Know (Spot Conlon + OC)

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

It had been undeniably apparent to me from almost the first day I could clearly recall my time in Brooklyn, that Mary O'Connell was the very backbone of the lodging house. Of course, Spot was Brooklyn's born leader, so effortless was his charisma and command. But Mary undoubtedly was the glue that held all of them together, even the detached king himself.

She was not a soft woman by any means, but something about Mary made you want to be around her. Having always had an uncanny ability to sense and dissect the deeper rhythms that people unknowingly emanated, I had easily been able to get a feel for what made Mary so dynamic, even from our first conversation. And it was simply that there were no pretenses involved with her actions and feelings toward others. She was genuine and loyal to those she deemed worthy enough, and if you happened to fall within the small circle of her graces, you were a very lucky person indeed.

But, what had been somewhat befuddling to me about Mary was her immediate acceptance of me as one of her own. Even though she knew nothing of who I actually was beneath all of my emotional and physical scarring, she had opened herself to me without hesitation. I was sure that when I had first been presented to Mary as the horrific, broken mess that I was, her pity for me had superceded any other requisite that she might have demanded had I been in my right mind. But, after having finally recovered from my drug-induced stupor several days into my stay, our interactions had led me to think something else was also at play.

Spot's immediate decision to keep me isolated had been quite a hard pill to swallow. I had never done well with long-term physical restraints and the solitude that had been forced upon me so shortly after my traumatic absence had been even more maddening. So, several days after my panicked escape attempt, I had found myself unable to stifle the strangled sobs that forced their way out of my chest, my whole frame completely dissolving into the desolation that so potently boiled within me. And, although Mary had popped in and out momentarily to check on me before, when I had seen her face peek beyond the door frame on that particular morning, I had desperately asked for a moment of her time.

"Mrs. O'Connell! Wait!" I had almost shouted through my sniffling. "Please let me be of some use to you. I cannot spend another hour in this room with nothing to do. I'm skilled at lots of different things and if I don't know how to do something I'll learn quickly. Please."

I had been surprised to see a warm smile spread slowly across her face as she had genially chuckled at me. Her green eyes had squinted indecipherably as she had responded, "It'd be a cold day in hell before any of these boys here would offer to do chores for free. At least not without Thomas threatenin' a lashing first. And here you are beggin' for the chance."

She had laughed again, shaking her head almost disbelievingly, and I had surprisingly felt a tiny portion of the hopelessness within my body subside slightly, giving me a little more room to take in a much-needed breath. I had almost felt a smile break out onto my own face as I had quickly said, "All the more reason to take me up on it."

She had raised her eyebrows, seeming to consider my proposal seriously, and after several silent moments she had shrugged and said matter-of-factly, "Well, come on then. Let's get you dressed and see how helpful you can be."

And even despite being wholly focused on leaving Brooklyn by any means necessary for those first few weeks, I had found a surprising amount of solace and perhaps even joy from spending my days helping Mary with the full load of chores that seemed to keep her busy. She had even commented wryly during our first afternoon together, "It's always amazing to me, what a little space and comfort can do. Gives you just enough room to start feeling like yourself again, eh?" which had managed to secure a gentle chuckle from me in return.