folklore

- 9 -

Spot felt as if he only served only one purpose and other than that, he was stashed away until he was needed again. The beauty of it was that he never missed; he was reliable which was why they went back for him every time.

Like fine China that was displayed in the cabinets, only used on special occasions. Aside from that, don't touch it and absolutely do not break it for they'll need it again another time.

When? Nobody knows.

But they'll need it again.

He felt as if he was a set of fine China. Like the kaolin plates, the only time where he was needed was on special occasions. When newsies needed his help. When they didn't, he was stashed away in Brooklyn, waiting for a newsie from another borough to grace him with his presence and ask for his assistance.

Even when they didn't need him, you'd find him standing in his highest tiptoes wanting to be seen. To be seen by at least one person, without them needing him first, was all he has ever asked for. He didn't know why, but he still believed that he'd meet one person who would finally see him. Not only when they needed him, but all the time. Though he deemed it impossible, he still tried and tried.

And even when no one was around, he still stood on the tallest pedestal, shining as bright as he could.

Race had brought back a letter for him. From Harley. At the moment, it sat on his bed- unfolded- only a few inches from his feet. On the letter had 6 words that answered Spot's one wish.

I've been thinking of you too.

Obviously there was more than just that. After all, it was Harley who had written it. She wrote on both sides of the paper for heaven's sake! But it was those 6 words that made him think that maybe it was possible for somebody to constantly see him.

Which made him like her even more.

"who's that from?" He was almost glad that Lilly had been so badly hurt, so that he could fold the letter back quickly enough for her not to see the name at the bottom of the letter. With a grunt and Spot's help, she lifted herself onto the bunk and sat across from him.

Albert had joined them, reminding Spot of his constant third wheeling during their time in the Refuge.

"jus' one of tha newsies from Brooklyn." He lied with a shrug.

For the first time in the last few days, Lilly's eyes lit up. "who?"

"uh- Hot Shot."

"what did he say?" Lilly reached out her hand to grab the letter, but Spot had pulled it closer to his chest.

"jus' said he's worried 'bout us an' all. An' they's thinkin' of a plan ta get us out."

She smiled softly. "I miss him... I miss everyone."

Spot sighed. "yeah, I do too." Lilly helped herself off of the bunk and made her way to the window, where she looked down onto the streets at the people passing by.

"that ain't from Hot Shot." Albert pointed out quietly and pointed to the letter.

Here was Spot's mistake. Harley had managed to write on both sides of the paper and he folded it so that the back side- where Harley's name was signed- would show.