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Brooklyn was in shambles. News boys were running around doing whatever they wanted- stealing each other's selling spots and getting into fights over it. They knew Spot wasn't going to be doing anything about it, and nobody had stepped in to lead them.
Spot was practically impossible to find. Some nights they found him at the lodging house, others just sitting at the pier, other nights he was gone. Only a few people knew why, and hey dared not talk about it to the other boys, or God forbid they try to talk to Spot about it. It was Race.
-
Two weeks ago, Race had been in debt, owing money to quite a few scary people. That was normal though. Nobody thought anything of it when didn't show up at the lodgings, figuring he was out with the Brooklyn boys, and by that they meant hanging out with Spot.
After two days, worry aroused, because he still wasn't back, but Jack had assured them not to worry. Racetrack was a certainly independent guy.
Jack hadn't fully convinced himself though, so he went out looking and brought Davey with him for company. That's when they found Race in an alleyway near the bridge. We was beaten and bloody, and Jack wasn't sure he was alive. When he brought Race to the nearest hospital he could find, they told him there was nothing they could do, that he was gone. Many of his bones were broken, one of his lungs had collapsed.
Fuck, was all Jack could think. He didn't know what to do or what to say. He didn't know how he would tell the boys, who would bury him, if they could even get him buried. Jack wasn't supposed to deal with this. So he did the only thing he knew he could do- he sent Specs and Boots to get Spot.
They didn't tell Spot what they knew out of partially grief, partially not wanting to be the ones to tell him. They knew it would be ugly. After reluctantly agreeing to follow them back over the bridge, Spot started to get a little nervous. Jack always sent Race if he needed to talk to Spot, Race was the only one who ever came willingly. He was nervous, yes, but he dared not show it.
"What does ole Jack need, can't handle the pressure anymore of keeping you all in line?" Spot cracked.
"You're gonna have to talk to Jack. Really I'm not the best person to tell you this," said Boots as Specs nodded in agreement.
"Whatever you say, but I best not have come here for nothin." He said.
When they entered the Manhattan lodging house, a knot formed inside his stomach.
"Jack. What's wrong." No formalities, he knew something was deeply wrong. "Why did you have me come here why not-"
That's when he saw it. All the boys were gathered around one bunk, one of the boys looked like he was sleeping. No not sleeping. They all looked up at him with terrified eyes as he looked at the bunk.
"Race." Was all he could say, before he started to explode. This wasn't allowed to happen. Race can't be hurt. He's just hurt, right? Of course he is. That fucking idiot. He was always getting into things he couldn't handle. He lunged at Race, starting to push the other boys out of the way. They tried to form a wall, to stop him, and he threw a few punches.
"Spot, stop. SPOT!" Jack shouted as a few of the larger boys finally started to restrain him.
"Spot, he got into a fight. Ok. We found him like this, and the docs says there's nothin they can do. He's gone Spot. I'm sorry."
"No. Race, no," Spot pushed the boys off of him and went to the bad way Race was laying. "Race, you idiot, get up," he said as he sat down and out his hands on Racetrack's face. "You've gotta get up. It's gonna be okay. I've got enough, I can pay those guys back for you, I can go out on the streets for a few nights, I'll be okay. But you've gotta get up now. I can't help you if you don't get up. Get up!" He started to pound on Race's chest, tears starting to well up in his eyes as the anger faded. "Please."
He felt a hand reach down and grab his shoulder, but he didn't look up.
"Spot. He's gone. You can't do anything. I'm sorry that you couldn't have helped him, but you know he wouldn't have let you." Jack tried to calm the other boy down.
"Don't tell me what he would have done. Don't. Actually, why don't you tell me why you didn't look for him before now. Why didn't you look for him when he didn't show up at the house last night? How long had he been missing before you all decided to care! Why didn't you get me any sooner? Why didn't he tell me... " His eyes started to fill with tears, and Jack motioned for the rest of the boys to leave the room.
"Spot, there's nothing we could have done. There's nothing you could have done."
"Yeah. I guess so."
Spot leaned down and placed a kiss on Race's cold forehead, then holding his hand for a minute. Why did you have to get into that fight, he thought. Why did you never let me help you with this crap. He knew Race was a smart kid, but he also knew that the world around him was ruthless.
Spot reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of dollars, handing them to Jack as he walked to the door.
"Just... Take care of him for me. I can't do this." And with this he walked out the door, ignoring the stares of the Manhattan news boys.
He didn't know where to go, so he started to run. He ran and ran, stopping only to catch his breath a couple times. When he got to the bridge, he sat down and cried. He had to get this over with before he got back on home turf. Race was gone. He was dead and some assholes had killed him over some lousy bet, and there was nothing Spot could do to save him. Not anymore. No more hanging out around Brooklyn or meeting up at the bridge or taking a swim in the pier or laughing at his ridiculous jokes or trying so hard to protect a kid that really didn't need protecting and didn't want it either. He was gone.
That night he went to the lodging house and didn't look at anyone. He went to bed far earlier than normal, and didn't intend on waking up early.
-
The next few days after the news, Spot tried to make everything normal, to keep business in shape with his Brooklyn boys. It worked, but they all knew something was off. He lacked his usual fervor and attentiveness, and seemed far more forgiving of the boys and their mistakes.
Soon, however, he started to disappear. People didn't know where he went, only that if he wanted to be found, they would find him. Newsies started to take advantage of the disappearances, and he didn't seem to care. His world had turned totally on its side without Race. He couldn't think straight, couldn't laugh, couldn't do a thing. It wasn't fair to Race.
-
After two weeks of this behavior, a couple of boys from Brooklyn decided to search out the only guy who dared to talk to Spot about anything like this, and that was Jack Kelly.
"You know," one of them told Jack as he came down the pier, looking for Spot, "someone said they saw Spot with a body the other day. I don't know what he's up to, but it don't sound good."
Jack nodded, "He's fine. I'll take care of it."
Having been close to Race, Jack thought he'd try some of the spots that Race had mentioned hanging out with Spot at. The last place he tried was the rooftop of one of the buildings by the pier.
"How did you find me, Kelly?" Spot said without moving, laying on his back with host arms crossed under his head, looking up into the twilight sky.
"You know I was friends with Race. He liked to talk about you, so I figured I'd check the places he said you hang out."
"Well here I am. What do you want from me?"
"Well," Jack sat down beside him, " I wanted you to know we buried him, took up a little collection, our kids were happy to do it for him."
"Good."
"And some of the kids here are worried about you. You're not the most obvious person, but not showing up to the lodgings and not selling papes will let them know something's off. You didn't tell them, did you?"
"Why should I?" Spot sat up, getting a little defensive. "They didn't even know him, all they ever cared about was why I let some Manhattan kid sell down here. They wouldn't have cared."
"Yeah, but I think they care about you."
"Yeah well they can stuff it."
"Spot." Jack sat down next to Spot, hoping he wasn't crossing any boundaries. "You can't just pretend this all didn't happen. You gotta talk about it or somethin, cause you're clearly hurtin."
"Yeah, well maybe I really don't care."
"I know you care." Jack looked at Spot, trying to wonder why the kid refused to let down his guard or let anyone in. "Why don't you ever let anyone in? Why don't you let people know you spot? You never let anyone care about you."
"That's not true. I did. I tried that. I tried to let someone in. And do you know what happened? Well, he's dead now."
"Spot-"
"He's dead because I couldn't look after him, because I failed him."
"Spot you know that's not true. You know, he once told me that trying to help you was like trying to help a dinosaur get something out of its teeth- that you would never know when it might just bite your hand off."
"Did he really say that?"
"Yeah."
"That's the worst metaphor I've ever heard."
"I know."
"Jack?"
"Yeah?"
"I think I loved him. Like, really loved him."
"He loved you too, Spot."
Spot stood up and looked at his hands, to the sky, then back to Jack.
"If you ever say that to anyone, I'll snap your neck."
"Well," Jack chucked, "I wouldn't expect any less of you."
"Good." Spot crossed his arms over his chest.
"Spot?"
"Yeah?"
"You gotta get back out there. Those kids seriously need you man. They are falling apart without you. And trust me, I think that's what Race would want you to do, to keep going and moving forward. Really."
"Get outta here before you say something stupid Jack."
"Yeah, alright. Really though, he told me that. That he loved you too. I actually thought that was a scary idea, you two as a couple. I can't tell if you two would destroy New York and become supreme rulers or if you'd just keep trying to hide your feelings about eachother from everyone while we all laughed because we knew."
"Didn't I tell you not to say anything stupid Kelly?" Spot chided. Jack laughed as he climbed the ladder to go back down to the street.
Spot sat up there for a while longer, staring up at the stars and remembering late nights spent doing this with Race. God, he really missed that kid. But now he needed to keep going. He needed to keep all his boys in order and go wreak some havoc. The tracks were now desperately in need of some papes, and he wasn't going to let anyone else do the job.