Darry's perspective. Dalton

Outsiders

Dalton Morris

“Soda, where could he be?”

“I don’t know Darry, I’m sure he’s OK. You don’t always have to be so hard on him all the time either.”

“I’m just so worried about him.”

“I’m going to sleep.”

“Good night Soda.”

I wonder where that boy could be. He knows he can’t do that; they could be put in a boy’s home so fast. Even after all the work I’ve done to keep this family together and Pony still does stupid things. That boy never thinks, he’s probably out there without a coat on or anything. I just don’t see how a boy that smart could be so dumb sometimes. One of these times he’s gonna really get hurt. Just look at when those Soc’s jumped him, he was out there all alone with no blade or nothing. Pony got lucky last time, but next time he aint gonna be so lucky. I can’t call the cops either, that would for sure get us separated. Wait, I hear him coming up the steps! Finally, that boy is home, at least he’s safe. “Ponyboy Curtis, Where the heck have been?! You had us worried sick! Do you know what time it is boy?”

“No I don’t”

“Well it’s two in the morning, where could you have possibly been this late?”

“I fell asleep in the lot with Johnny.” Pony said quietly.

“You what?!” I screamed at him.

“You heard me, I fell asleep talking to Johnny in the lot.”

“Do you know how fast that would separate us?”

“I’m sorry Darry, I didn’t mean to”

“You didn’t mean to?”

“That’s what you always say, I didn’t mean to, I forgot, you gotta think Ponyboy, use your head!” I said, and now I was really mad at him.

“Darry, just leave the kid alone, we’ll talk about in the morning.” Soda mumbled to me.

“Soda, I’ve had enough of you sticking up for this kid.” I yelled at him.

Then I did something I truly regretted the moment after it happened. I hit Ponyboy right in the chest and he fell to the ground. My emotions just got the best of me. Pony ran out, crying.

“Pony, wait, I’m sorry!” I hollered at him.

He was running down the street like the wind, no way of catching him now. Where could he possibly go? I hope he’s okay, I feel terrible.

“C’mon Soda, were going after him.”

We searched everywhere, the lot, the drug store, the school, but we never found him. We probably searched ‘till about 5:00 am. By that time I was filled with fear, panic over came me and I flipped out inside.

I was a mess those few days Pony was gone. We asked everyone in the gang if they knew where Pony had gone. Dally said he had seen them, but wouldn’t tell me where they were going. I almost had to beat it outta him, but I decided I was too tired to get in any sorta fight, especially against Dally. Soda did give Dally a note to give to Pony, hopefully he gets it.

I kept expecting Pony to just come walking up the steps and come in and say with a smile on his face, “Hey, Darry!” By the second full day he was gone though, I knew that it wasn’t gonna happen. Also, by the end of the second day, I was worried sick and was balling like a baby too. Me and Soda thought we’d lost him like mom and dad. I was like that for the next couple of days, neither of us slept for almost that whole week.

We got some news that lifted my spirits, but also made me even more sick to my stomach, I had heard from the cops that Pony, Johnny, and Dally, were in the hospital. The cops told me the whole story, how they had saved the kids lives at the church. I was proud of Pony being a hero and all, but I was still half worried sick, and half angry at him. This is still another time where he needs to use his head this could us split up.

Anyway, me and Soda high-tailed down there to hospital, we learned Pony was fine; he only had some slight burns. When I saw Pony, I ran up there hugged him so hard I could of killed him.

“I’m happy your fine kiddo, you had me worried sick, I thought I’d lost you like we did mom and dad. And I’m awfully sorry I hit you like that Pony.”

By that time, I was already balling. I never cry, not even at mom and dad’s funeral, but this time I couldn’t help it.

Pony told us everything, how he and Johnny were at the church and how Dally had given them the heater and the money, and how they had saved those little kids. He also said that Johnny was in poor condition, he’d be paralyzed from the waist down if he lived.

“Darry, Johnny might die, it’s crazy, we can’t lose Johnny he means so much to us.” Pony said, almost crying.

Then he told us bout Dally, he was gonna be fine, a couple of weeks and he’ll have full movement is his burnt arm again. We knew good ol’ Dally would make it through; he can make it through anything. Its Johnny we’re worried about.

Johnny's Story

Becky

Ponyboy and I stepped into the park. He was looking mighty cold, but he didn’t mention it. I didn’t know why we were running away, just that we were running away. He was looking at the fountain, which was starting to freeze. The sight of it gave me a chill, like a warning, that something bad was about to happen.
Right then and there, I realized what it was. The blue mustang pulled up, and they honked the horn. I swore under my breath, but that wouldn’t help us. I wished that it would though. We couldn’t run for it, we would have no chance with our already tired legs. They would catch up no sweat with their tuff car. I tried to stay cool, but nothing came out except, “This is our territory, you better watch it.”
I have to admit, it wasn’t the most threatening thing to say. Then they really did it. Those Socs knew what was coming next could only cause trouble.
“You know what greasers are? White trash with long, greasy hair.”
Pony’s face went wild, and I could tell he couldn’t stand much more of them. I was too terrified of them to think of anything to say. Then I saw them. The rings on the one Soc’s hand. It was the same guy that beat me up. I took grasp of my blade, I was ready this time. Ponyboy stepped up to them to say something, and it was then that I got scared out of my wits. Nothing could be worse than being alone at the park, two against five or six. Then he said it.
“You know what a Soc is? White trash with mustangs and madras.” Then he spit at them. Pure instinct told me to run as hard and fast as I could, but that wasn’t anywhere near enough. They caught up to me and kicked me in the gut. The wind was knocked out of me, but I rolled over to see how Pony was doing. They were drowning him, they would kill him. I couldn’t sit there and watch a friend die. I gathered up all of my energy, which wasn’t much, and without a second thought, took out my blade. I stabbed him, the one with the rings.
I couldn’t believe it. I had killed a kid. The rest of the Socs had run away, but I think that I was the most scared person in the world. I didn’t know what to do. The only thing that did come was a vision blurred by tears. I sat down on the bench and cried. I cried I cried like a baby with no one to hold it. I could barely take breaths between sobs. It was too hard to hold the tears back, so I just let them roll one by one, hot and salty, down my cheeks.
Pony came to his senses, and I bet you my face was wetter than his. “I killed him. I killed that boy.”
“You really killed him, huh, Johnny?”
“Yeah. I had to. They were drowning you, Pony. They might have killed you.”
Ponyboy yelled at me, which I probably deserved, but just made me feel lousier. I never meant to kill him. I only meant to get them away from Pony. I couldn’t stand to watch them kill Ponyboy.
Even though Pony kept flipping out at me, I was glad he was there. They would’ve killed me if I was alone. We headed over to see Dally for some help, and I realized that I was glad that Pony was the one who was going to help me through this. He could understand me better than anyone else in the gang, even more than Dally. The only way that I wasn’t going to turn myself in was if Pony was next to me the whole way.

Matt Levitan

From Johnny’s perspective at the fountain

I was sleeping until hit me I the ribs, no, fell on me.
” Johnny, it’s me Pony, we’re runnin’ away.”
When I finally got my bearings, I saw Ponyboy running across the far side of the lot. When I finally caught up with him he was hanging of the jungle gym at the park.
“Pony, why we runnin’?” I asked.
“ It’s Darry, he hit me.” He said in between sobs.
I heard the roar of an engine and a tuff blue mustang pulled up. The engine stopped and Bob, Randy, and three other socs climbed out.
“Hey, whatta ya know?” Bob said a little unsteadily, “Here’s the little greasers that picked up our girls. Hey, greasers.”
“You’re outta your territory,” I warned in a low voice.” You’d better watch it.”
Randy swore at us and they stepped in closer. Bob was eyeing me. “Nup, pal, you're the ones who’d better watch it. Next time you want a broad, pick up one of your own kind-dirt.”
I could sense Ponyboy was angry. Sometimes the socs really got inside Pony’s head.
“You know what a greaser is?” Bob asked. “White trash with long hair.”
I looked over at pony, his face was as white as paper. Then again my hands had just started twitching. We’ve been cussed out and sworn at, but that really pissed me off. I got this strange feeling all over. It felt like I was full of fire and wanted beat the tar outta them socs.
I heard pony start to talk, I could feel the anger emanating from what he said. “You know what a soc is?” He growled.” White trash with mustangs and madras.” He then spit at them. It landed on Bob’s loafer.
Bob shook his head, smiling slowly. “You could use a bath, greaser. And a good working over. And we’ve got all night to do it. Give the kid a bath, David.”
A burly looking soc lunged at Pony and started wrestling him towards the fountain. They’re going to drown I thought. I balled my fists and ran toward the one they call David. One of the socs that I didn’t know lunged and caught me be my waist before I could reach him. He spun me around and my head hit the fountain. I came to a few moments later, I think. I saw shadow on the other side of the fountain. It looked like three guys holding a guy that was shaking and twisting. I also heard a gurgling sound. Oh my god-they was drowning Ponyboy. Those no good, rotten, son-of-a-gun socs they were drowning Pony.
I got up and ran as fast as I could toward them, knife outstretched. On saw me coming and hoped out of the way. Bob wasn’t so lucky; the knife sank right into his chest, just below the ribs.
Immediately the other socs stopped what they were doing looked at Bob, the red flower blossoming on his chest, looked at the blood dripping of my knife and ran as fast as they could towards that mustang.
When I saw that Ponyboy was still breathing I past out not caring about anything else in this world. I heard the pitter patter of water and realized where I was. Oh, shit, I thought when I realized I was at the park, I just killed that soc, and what the heck am I going to do now.
Ponyboy started came to and started coughing.
“I killed him,” I said slowly, refusing to accept it. “ I killed that boy.
I felt sick, I told Pony. He said, ” Go ahead”. I walked over to the tree and threw up, it didn’t make me feel less sick.
As I was walking back my vision started to blur. Everything happened so quickly and I couldn’t control my own body, I was on autopilot. I saw Darry, and then I was on a hill in front of a burning building. Everything started to slow down, I could see and hear but I still wasn’t in control. I jumped into the window and heard terrified screams, it was a buncha kids. I kicked down a wall and found them huddled in the corner. I started passing them out the window. It made me feel so happy helping these kids. It felt like I finally had a purpose and had a reason to be in this world. As I was about to climb out I heard a CRACK. Something fell on me and I blacked out.
All of a sudden I was lying on my front. I was in so much pain that it felt like I was on fire and being crushed by a train. Something popped into my head as I saw Ponyboy, Stay gold.
“Stay gold Ponyboy” I said, even though each syllable was like being’ stabbed in the throat. I died.

Dally's view

Griffin Unger

Dally’s View

Tim Shepard and I were in a rumble, punching and kicking and banging and yelling. We were socking each other so hard I thought one of us was gonna croak. I dodged one of his left hooks and watched as his momentum took him to the ground. Seeing an opportunity, I jumped in the air and elbowed him right in the stomach. Just by looking at his pail, sweaty, and bloody face, I could tell the fight was over. I walked upstairs to an empty bedroom and plopped myself down to doze off for a while; sleep off the pain. I was just dreaming about some tuff looking girls when that no good Buck had to come in and disturb me. He through a pillow at my head.
“ What’s your problem? Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep! Some people are just total bozos.”
“Sorry to wake you sleeping beauty but 2 of your seven dwarfs are at the door. They say you know them, Johnny and Pony was it? Whatever I can’t remember.”
I slowly inched out of bed, aching with every step I took. Man did I take a beating. As I opened the front door I realized that something was wrong. Pony was soaking wet and Johnny looked like a ghost had just chased him.
“Jesus Pony, what happened?”
“J-J-Johnny, he k-k-k-killed a soc. It all happened s-s-s-so fast. D-d-d-didn’t know where t-t-t-to go.”
“Well come on, get inside, you’ll catch pneumonia and die before the cops ever get here.” I said.
I led them upstairs. We maneuvered ourselves through the seemingly endless trail of drinks, cigarettes, and vomit. When we got to the room I’d been napping in I gave Pony a dry shirt. I reached into the drawer and felt a cold and hard object. It was a gun. I slowly pulled it out and loaded it. Pointing the gun away from myself I handed it to Johnny. He looked so innocent, so untainted. I didn’t know what I was doing giving him a gun, he would never use it. Or maybe… judging on the circumstances, things will be different.
“Stow away on the 315 freight train outta here tonight, and ride along till you get to Windrixville. Buy a week’s supply of food and hide out at the old abandoned church on Jay Mountain. I’ll head up there when things look like their cooling down.”
“Thanks Dal, you’re a true friend.” Said Johnny.
I ruffled Johnny’s hair and just like that, they were gone. They were outlaws, vigilantes, criminals, and enemies of the law. Deep inside I kind of wished I was the one who was on the run. With the wind in my hair and the excitement of being free, I could do anything. I’d run forever if I had to. I began thinking about what I was gonna tell the guys. I wouldn’t tell them about where they were. Darry would probably rip me to shreds for helping them escape. Darry cared so much about Pony, if anything happened to him, he might just lay down and die. I guess I kind of feel that way about Johnny. If something happened to him I don’t know what I’d do with myself. Maybe I should go with them, just to make sure everything goes according to plan. And then I realized something, I truly cared about Johnny. I mean to most people it’s probably not a big deal to care about someone, but for me, this was huge. I had thought my heart had left years ago, back in the big apple. On those streets it was different. You can’t love anything when you’re a hood. The more you have, the more you have to lose.

The Broken Bond

Irina
03-12-2008

Period 3/4
I was under a lot of pressure. My parents were forcing me to stay away from Soda, saying he wasn’t worth it. They were saying that he was a hood and wasn’t right for a girl like me. Hoods weren’t what my family wanted to be associated with or wanted me to be associated with. Hoods were thought to be lower than us. I wanted to stay with Soda because of the position I was in. You see, I was having a baby; I was pregnant, and it might have been Soda’s. On the other hand, it might have been someone else’s, but I don’t want Soda to know that I was sneaking around with another guy, cheating on him. I would have married Soda if I got the chance, I loved him, but I guess he didn’t love me enough and wasn’t ready to ask me to marry him. I could understand why. We were too young, but even though we were in love, but we still needed to learn how to live our lives and how to take responsibility for ourselves.
My choices were either stay and never make contact with Soda or go live with my grandparents in Florida. Of course, I had to go to Florida because I could never live with having to avoid Soda’s dreamy eyes and his dazzling smile and his greasy, slick movie star hair without talking to him. I had to let him go and forget all the wonderful times we had and could have had.
When I had just arrived in Florida, I wrote a letter in secrecy trying to explain what happened.

Dear Soda,
My one true love, I have terrible news for you. I am now in Florida living with my grandparents because I was forbidden to continue seeing you, so I couldn’t bear to know you were near, but have to avoid you and break your heart by not being able to say hi to you. I chose the path my parents were slowly luring me into taking. I will probably never be able to see you again, but I just wanted you to know that it wasn’t your fault. I have to tell you something else though…. I am pregnant, but I don’t know whose it is. Now I know you might be asking who else the baby’s father could be other than you. I betrayed you by sneaking around with other guys, two to be exact. Their names are Labron and Damien. I know this is very disappointing to hear, but I wasn’t aware of how badly it would have hurt you, but I am sorry.
All My Forbidden Love,
Sandy Crenshaw
I was sickened by how my dear Soda would feel. I was disappointed that I had to end it this way, but maybe he understood because he was a nice, sweet guy whom I loved. The next week someone had called me in the middle of the night.
“Hello?” I asked pondering who it could possibly be.
“Hello? I-h-h-s S-S-Sandy there I-I-I gotta talk to her.” Soda cried.
“This is she, and who might this be?” I politely answered.
“It’s Soda, Sandy, and I want you to tell me how you could do that to me especially with all the worry about having the possibility of being separated from my brothers and going into a boy’s home.” Soda said crying for my explanation.
“Well I’m sorry, Soda, but I thought you weren’t ready to go to the next level so I left, but then Pony called me and told me how sad you were without me. Then I felt really bad for what I had done, so I ended my flings with the other boys.” I clarified.
“Well, I guess that makes sense, but I still really miss you, Sandy.” Soda agreed.
“So do I, Soda, but I just wish I could come back, but it’s impossible now…” I regretfully confirmed.
“Why not you could run away and we could be together again; forever.” Soda suggested.
“But I can’t, how would I? I don’t have the wits or the dough to do it. I’m sorry it has to be like this.” I sobbed.
“I could give you the money and you’re the smartest gal I know. I’ve got the hots for you Sandy and it’s not possible for me to forget you.” He offered.
“That really means a lot to me Soda, it really does, but I can’t, I couldn’t do that to you at your time of need. I would be betraying my family.” I tried to explain with tears starting to fall down my freckled cheeks.
“So it’s ok to betray me, but not your family?” He asked.
“No! You don’t understand it’s different. I love you, but you could move on with out me, but I could never live without my family. “I’m sorry it had to end this way Soda… I love you.” I sighed.
“If you really loved me you would come back for me.” He called to me.
“I’m really sorry Soda. “Look Soda I gotta go, maybe I’ll talk to you later. I love you.” I lied because I could never talk to him again. It would be too hard on me.
“Huhhhhhhh…. Well I guess this is goodbye then Sandy. I love you too. Goodbye…” He sighed.
“Goodbye.” I said as my last words to Soda, forever.
That night really made me remember all the wonderful interactions we had with each other, and the love that we shared. That was when I finally realized that all those memories were done, and I would never see Soda again.

Alternate Perspective Story

The Outsiders
Perspective Story

by Laura
I am sitting in the back seat, taking a sip of the beer that Randy just handed to me, trying to relax after the tough day. Suddenly, I hear Bob call out
“It’s the greasers, the two that picked up Marcia and Cherry at the movies, lets go jump ‘em” in a wobbly voice because he had too much to drink, like always. I am in no mood for a fight, but I know that if I won’t join them, I am going to be pretty bad off myself.
As we were pulling up, the greasers showed no fear and continued on walking with a steady pace, however one of them, I think the one that we jumped once, almost killed him to death, looked back at us with fear in his eyes and whispered something to the other greaser. I don’t know the other greaser’s name, but I know his two other brothers: Sodapop and Darry. Darry used to be best buds with Paul until his parents died and he took on a job instead of going to college (he was a good quarterback). As for Sodapop, I have to admit, he looks like a movie star in the middle of nowhere. I never really liked jumping anyone, but there is not much else I could do for fun so I go along with it anyway. Bob, Randy, Paul and I got out of the car. Bob went on calling the greaser’s white trash, and the greaser’s went on calling him something I didn’t quite catch on to. All of this was just buzzing by me and I didn’t feel very good, the last thing I knew was Bob was ordering me to dunk the kid in the water and keep him there, but then something snapped, I just couldn’t take it anymore, I yelled “STOP!” Bob gave me a confused look and said
“Since he ain’t gonna do it, Paul you dunk him while I have a little chat with Dave”
Bob pulled me aside and said
“What the heck are you doing, I know you don’t like that white trash anymore than I do.” That is when something just snapped again and I couldn’t hold it in, I said,
“Leave them alone for once, just because they aren’t rich it doesn’t mean that you can abuse them. Also, look how unfair this is; four against two, when you get drunk you just don’t think about the reality Bob, you have to wake up sometimes and look at what your doing from a different angle.” As soon as I finished Bob just stared at me in shock when words came back to him he started cursing and telling me all the bad things about me, but nothing really mattered anymore, I said it and I can’t reverse what just happened so I just walked on home. However, my words didn’t change anything. Bob went back to the gang and continued on dunking the poor kid in to the fountain. Although I changed nothing, I know that I was not part of this whole mess and this is good for a start.
Next Chapter
When I woke up, the first thing I could think of is call Bob, but then I remembered what happened last night and I know I that I can’t call Bob after that incident. So I decided to go out and get the newspaper. I put on my wine colored sweater, my cream colored jeans and my leather jacket (not my best one.) I slipped out of the house without telling my parents (not like I ever do) because it was 8:00 am and I didn’t want them yelling at me at this hour. I got in my dad’s red mustang and drove to the super market right down the block.
When I entered, all over the walls were newspapers with “Shocking News” as their headline. I walked up to one of them and it said, “Robert Sheldon was killed last night by two greasers, we don’t know what there names are yet but some say that they are heading toward Texas….”
Every single bone and muscle in my body was numb, I knew that things wouldn’t end too well for Bob but I didn’t think that he would die, and that if he did die, not this soon, seventeen years is not enough to live, he could have changed. It’s too late to think about this anyway. I pity him, but he deserves it. I can’t believe I am saying this, I would not have said it a day ago, but I think that I finally woke up from this terrible dream that all of us have been dreaming- Bob, Randy, Paul, Joe, Ron, Zack, Me, and all the rest of the Socs.
The work is done, and I can’t do anything about it. As much as I hated what Bob did for fun, he did not deserve what he got. I want to find out more about what happened last night so I sat back into my dad’s mustang and drove off to Paul’s house. When I got to Paul’s house he wasn’t there and his mom told me that he just left. I was pretty sure that he went to Randy’s and I was right. He and the rest of the gang were trying to convince Randy to go to the rumble which is in a week because Randy refused to go. I am not planning on going to the rumble myself but I want to keep it private or else Paul and the rest will torture me the way that they are torturing Randy right now. I know that they are in no mood to tell me right now what happened last night so I just left unnoticed.

The Witness of the Killing

by Andrew (the pessimistic one)

One night, I was on my nightly stroll through the park when the unthinkable happened.

It all began with two boys, running into the park. They both seemed like they were in a hurry to get somewhere past the park, but only the rate of their footsteps implied that.

They ran right by me, oblivious of my presence. Since I was curious, I followed them with my quiet footsteps I once used for stalking someone.

They finally came to a wide, open area with a fountain in the middle. I admit that it was a calming sight until a bit later.

A blue Mustang appeared out of nowhere. I still remember it clearly, the lights shining on the boys, the wheels tearing up grass, and the five boys in the car. After the car arrived, the five boys, two leaders and three followers, stepped out of the leather covered seats in the Mustang. The two boys with greasy hair were in shock. I don’t think they expected to be ganged up on in a park with no roads.

The newly arrived boys attacked the other two boys after exchanging a few words. They pushed the smaller one on the ground first. At first I thought he was out cold, but I was proven wrong later. Afterward, they went for the other one. The cruelty of this attack was appalling, but my curiosity of what would happen next rooted me to the spot. All the rich kids from the blue Mustang shoved the poor boy’s head in the water until he was coughing up water and gasping for air. I wish that I could have done something to help him at the time, but that probably would have jeopardized my safety. As the boy was getting tortured by the people in fancy jackets, the other boy on the ground slowly got up. I saw a blade reflecting the light from the car as it was drawn. It was a sharp, metal knife.

He lunged at one of the kids from the car with the dagger’s tip facing him. It all happened so fast. I closed my eyes to avoid seeing the moment the victim died from his attack. When I opened my eyes, the fountain water was tinted red with blood. All the other attackers ran afterward.

I was rooted to my spot by the grip of fear. I was staring at a murderer and his half-drowned friend. I didn’t know what to do.

I think I fainted because once I looked around again, the two boys were gone and the body was left to rot. Either that or my memory problems are becoming more severe. Both ways, I was a witness to a murder and an attack. Without thinking, I fled the scene of the crime.

As I ran home, the siren of a police car rang furiously. Luckily, the police didn’t notice my panicked pace and my breathless breathing.

In the distance, I saw my house, that white, old countryside house. As I entered, I realized something. What if someone saw me? I could be accused of murder. After pondering this for a few moments, I realized that if I never report my findings, then I won’t be accused. Then there is still the issue of a possible second witness though. I discarded the thought and continued into my house.

It was messy as always. Papers on the floor, old bread squished on the carpet, and boxes limiting my breathing space. I’m always too lazy to clean up my home so I’ve gotten used to the mice and cockroaches.

As I scanned the floor to see what else is in a state of extreme dirtiness I noticed a newspaper with a picture of a boy. From a distance he looked familiar but at a closer view he was different. It was a picture of a greasy-haired, tough-looking, troublemaking kid who had a caption all to himself.

“Dallas Winston, known to be part of the ‘greasers’ from the east side of town. Wanted dead or alive”, it said.

I found it hard to believe that his greasy hair made him look similar to one of the boys at the fountain area. Hopefully, I’ll never see either of them again. Seriously, nobody is inclined to meet a murder or any of his friends.

After some closer inspection of the picture, I realized that there was nothing else to see. I threw the newspaper into a rusty metal sink. When the newspaper was out of my mind, I continued up to the excessively messy second story.

It was messy like the rest of my house, only with more spider webs and skittering rats. About five rats passed by me as I started to walk towards my room.

When I tried turning my bedroom doorknob, it got torn out of the door. The shock of the event threw me backwards… either that or I was getting too weak to handle a doorknob. Both ways, I was on the floor. Also, I made a mental note to go down to the local Home Depot and buy a new door. Actually, maybe I should just buy that house next door. I realized that I was pondering things that I couldn’t afford so I rid myself of useless thoughts picked up a hammer from a nearby toolbox. With it, I started smashing the door to bits.

I arrived at the inside of my room after destroying my ancient door. As I looked around, I realized something. I actually had a job! As I tried recollecting any memories of this job of mine, it became obvious that I was suffering from memory loss (as always). Oh, by the way, this job of mine was a writer… of something. Well, the only clue I had was a typewriter.

This new job of mine inspired me to write about my encounter with a greasy murderer and his friend.

My story started with this, “One night, I was on my nightly stroll through the park when the unthinkable happened…”

When I finished my story, I figured out that it was the worst piece of writing ever written.

“Well, maybe I could trick a few people into buying this horrid paper with ink on it”, I said to myself.

ﾠ

ﾠ

Isabella Korfmann
March 6th
Periods 3 and 4

David

We had been riding up and down the streets in Bob's Mustang looking for something to do. Everyone in the car was completely drunk except me, I don't dig that kind of stuff. On top of their being drunk, Bob was all riled up from those greasers hitting on his girl, and he was just looking for trouble. I was getting anxious, we were down in greaser territory and I had a bad feeling about it. I have never been the kind who liked to fight or drink, or do anything illegal, really.

We were driving by the park and we saw the shadows of two boys walking. Immediately, Bob pulled over and we all got out. When I saw their faces I knew that there was going to be trouble, because they were the same two guys who had been with his girl. Now let me explain something quick. Bob is the man. What Bob wants Bob gets, and that's just how it is, and how its always been. Everyone who is anyone knows Bob and if your not with him, well, your against him. And trust me, you do not want to be on Bob's bad side

Back to the situation at hand. Bob started to yell something about white trash at the two greasers and then one of them yelled something about white trash back at Bob. Next thing I know we were all over at the fountain. I heard someone shout "Give the kid a bath, David" so dutifully I grabbed the taller one by his collar and dunked his head under the water. You might be asking your self why I would be doing something like this if I claim to be such a good kid. Well, its not how I want to be, its just that this is the way I have to be, if I want to be someone. Anyway, we were dunking the kid in the fountain and all of a sudden Bob's body went limp. I let go of the kid and looked over to where Bob is lying. All I saw was this dark haired greaser sitting there with a bloody knife in his hands, and a growing pool of red around Bobs body. After that image had imprinted itself in my mind I beat it out of there quick and I just keep running and running.

had no idea where I was or where I was going or how to get home. Finally, I slowed to a walk and finally sat down. And I just started crying. I could not hold it back any longer, it just came pouring out like a waterfall. I knew I was not just crying for Bob, I was crying for everything I never cried about before. I cried about my parents getting a divorce, about how my grandma, the only one who ever paid any real attention to me, passed away, about almost drowning that kid. I realized how much I had changed just to fit in, how far away I have strayed from who I actually was. And for what? So that I could be in situations like this? It's not a game anymore, somebody died, and the truth is, I was part of what made that happened. I was determined to turn back and become who I used to be.

I got up and started to collect my thoughts. First off I had to find a way home. I dug through the pockets of my khaki pants until I had gathered enough change to take the bus home. I stepped on to the bus and walked to the back, my shoes slightly sticking to the isle as I walked. As I sat on the rough seats waiting for the bus to reach my stop, I tried to figure out what to do. How I was going to handle this whole situation? Should I tell my parents right away? Should I go to the police? Should I tell the story so it seemed like the greasers fault or our fault? What would Bob do...There I went again thinking about what Bob would want. Obviously Bob didn't make very good choices or he wouldn't be dead. No. I needed to start making choices for myself.

So I decided that I would tell me parents the REAL story and see what they thought should be done about it. Unlike some of the Socs parents who lived around here, my parents were pretty down to Earth. I mean I wouldn't say that they were strict, I just mean that they knew what they were doing, and they had at least some sense of values. The bus ride home seemed to take forever. I don't think it had really kicked in that Bob was dead. I `almost expecting to go home and see him waving to me from across the street. Finally the bus ride ended, and I began the long walk home, pondering how to explain things.



Outsiders scene: the story of Bob's Death

This is Pony’s track coach’s point of view when the story about the death of Bob got out…

The smell of bacon greeted me when I got up that day. After taking a quick shower, I went down the stairs, grabbed a plate of food and went into the family room. After placing the plate on a small table in front of the burgundy couch, I went back to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of orange juice. I returned to the family room, put down my cup, and turned on the TV. It wouldn’t be long before I had to get to work today. I turned to the news station and began eating my breakfast. At 5:15 sharp, they always reported the traffic, and I wasn’t about to be late today.

The reporter looked up from his sheaf of papers, and with a grim face, began speaking, “Breaking News. A 16 year old boy, Robert Sheldon, was found, dead in a public park this morning. Police investigating the crime scene have released that the stabbing happened between 2 and 3 o’clock this morning. Police have also questioned the victim’s friends, who claim that Johnny Cade and Ponyboy Curtis were the cause of this.”

I lurched and choked on a mouthful of egg. Ponyboy? As in Ponyboy my track star? He would never kill another human being! Saying that is saying… is saying the sun is green! Ponyboy was… no is a dreamer. He would never do something like this, never…

“Police advise people who have seen these boys to keep their distance and not approach. One of the two is armed and dangerous. I repeat, one of the two is armed and dangerous.”

I couldn’t think. Pony wouldn’t hurt a fly. Well… he would, but he’s a Greaser. They were brought up doing this kind of thing, and Pony was no hood. Pony is no hood. There is absolutely no way that he could have killed somebody. Absolutely no way. The newscasters are lying. They’re lying. Pony would never do something like this. Or would he? As a Greaser, he had the crimes committed by the Socs blamed on him or his friends. I’d seen it with my own eyes before. It was unlike Pony… but he, he might have wanted revenge. I turned off the TV and got up. There was one way to verify things. Pony lived in a house on my way from home to the school. I could check there. Better yet, was the fact that I pass the park just before I pass his house.

I picked up still full plates and returned them to the kitchen. When I reached my car, I paused for a moment and took out a small picture. It was of Ponyboy at our last track meet. We had won, and Pony was gleefully being hoisted into the air by his family and friends. The small trophy that he had won for the school was in the care of his brother, Darrel. If I remember correctly, Darrel had played football before he graduated. I frowned. According to Mr. Steignburg, Darrel had loved being out on the field. Why had he quit?

I shook my head, clearing it of distraction. I was driving, and if I wasn’t paying attention, then I would crash. I slowed as I came up on the park. The police had put up bright yellow tapes, and there were still emergency vehicles at the curb, but if I held my head just so…

There was no body, but I could see the coppery red stain left by the blood. Bob obviously had been killed, but it couldn’t have been Pony. Pony couldn’t have been there. He wouldn’t stand for such things…

I saw Darrel and Sodapop, Pony’s brothers, standing nearby, and headed over to them. “Hey Darrel. Hi Sodapop.”

“Good morning Coach Rhead,” came the dispirited reply. I frowned. From what I remembered of the dropout, Soda had always been excitable and carefree. Something was up.

“Where’s Pony?”

“Missing.” Darrel’s answer was short and curt. But… Ponyboy was missing. There was a dead body in a hearse going to one of the graveyards in West Side. The victim’s friends claimed it was Pony and one of his friends… There was only one conclusion that could be drawn from all this. Ponyboy had been part of this murder. Maybe he hadn’t done it, but he was still there, watching. I was in shock. I wasn’t up to teaching in the morning, but people would be bad-mouthing Pony and Johnny. I would show them the good side to these “Greasers.” Maybe then they would understand. Maybe I would understand. By helping others know of what Greasers got would perhaps help me understand why Pony had stood by and let another do such horrendous things…

Finite

Written by Kim

Wesley D

Wesley Dickson

3/5/08

Period 3-4

The Outsiders from a Background Socs Point of View

“Bob! Let’s head over to greaser territory and beat the tar out of em’,” I said. If anyone was going to make the decision, it would be Bob because he is the leader and we are the followers. All six of us were drunk out of our heads. Bo’s Tavern had supplied us with enough beer for a college football game, and none was left over.

“Well who’s the designated driver? No, just kidding, I’ll drive,” declared Bob. We all hopped into my tuff, cool blue convertible with flames on the sides. It usually takes about 15 minutes to ride to the other side of town, but because the streets were deserted and we were going 60 miles per hour, it only took five. Along the way, some mailboxes somehow got in our way, but I’m sure no one will mind. At the local park, we spotted some nice, juicy prey to play with. A couple more trash cans were taken out before we even got to the kids.

“Hey grease, you were the ones who tried to pick up our chicks, right? Well we’ll show you how we feel about that.” Again, Bob did all the talking. After the statement, every one around him chirped in with “oh yeahs” and “you’re gettin’ it nows”.

I’ve always wondered why Bob was the “so called” leader, he wasn’t that much different than anyone else. The problem was that I was the only one who ever asked that question, even in my mind. If I didn’t follow him, and broke off onto a different path, I’d be all alone. The only people I knew that really hated the greasers were Bob and a couple other kids at school. Everyone else (like me) didn’t want to be “out of trend”, so we chased right after them, and here we are, drunk and ready to kick some butt.

Joe flipped up his knife and charged like a wild animal. Everyone else did the same. In my mind, this idea was crazy, beating up kids and all, but I just couldn’t stop myself. It was like some sort of power was taking hold of me by the ears and dragging me across the floor.

No one ever told me to be different, they told me to follow the crowd and everything will fall in place. This is what they wanted right? Well, I hope so, but it just doesn’t feel right.

Bob got hold of one kid and started drowning him in the fountain. The power took hold of me again and I leaped to help hold him under. Meanwhile the rest of our gang had smashed the other boy face first on the ground, and he stayed down. No one talked, they just grunted and made strange sounds; so did I. Now all the attention was turned to the kid in the fountain. For the third time, I backed away from the action and thought about why we were doing this. But nothing came to mind other than how we all followed Bob. Socs don’t think like me, they act. I’m always the one who comes up with ideas. Bob takes those ideas and makes it sound like it was his idea. I don’t care even if I am a pushover. I’m grateful for what I have, a big house, money, and an education.

“What th…” Someone at the fountain crumpled like an old, used up piece of paper. Then the screams came. Bodies were flying in every direction, into the fountain, on the ground, up to the sky, and I was right in the middle of it.

“What just happened?!?!” I screeched. No one answered. My instincts popped right in, follow the crowd. We were back in the car and onto the road before I blinked. “What just happened?!?!” I repeated.

Billy answered; he was a quiet kid, not used to public speaking. “That greaser… the, the one on the ground… he… he stabbed Bob… no one saw him coming, it was quick… and silent….”

Maybe now I can be different.

Alternate Perspective from Dally

By Leah

I slammed down on the breaks hard. The whole church was on fire! Ponyboy suggested we go see what happened. “That’s stupid, I said “Johnny Pony get your butts back in this car!” They had jumped out and were running towards the church where a group of kids stood.

“Get back here.” I shouted. They didn’t hear me; if they did they ignored me. Those stupid kids will never learn. I decided I might as well go after them seeing as there wasn’t anything else to do. I ran up the hill just in time to see Johnny and Ponyboy clamber into the church through a broken window. “Hey,” I yelled, “what are they going in there for?”

“Some of our kids are stuck inside; they went in to rescue them, such brave boys.” The woman replied with a look of terror.

“Are they mad? They’ll get themselves killed. Boy when I get a hold of them I’m going to beat them so hard…” I stopped suddenly, aware that the woman was looking at me as though I’d just killed someone. I sniggered quietly at the look on her face then waited with everyone else. In no time at all, a window busted open towards the back of the church. I could see kids being let down gently onto the grass. If it was me, I would have just darn dumped them out the window and beat it out of there. At the same time, I could here the wood cracking with the weight of the fire. I ran towards the window. As I looked through I could see Pony’s face struck with ashes staring back out at me. I was so mad at him. “ For Pete’s sake get outa there! The roof’s gonna cave in any minute. Forget those blasted kids!” I hollered. He ignored me which only made me get madder. I realized with a sudden panic that the roof was about to cave in. All of the kids were out and Ponyboy soared out the window. Oh my God, I thought. His back was on fire and he had some burns. I clobbered him so hard on the back, to put the fire out of course. He dropped to the ground like a ton of lead so fast I was worried I’d killed him. I could hear Johnny’s screams by now.

“Don’t worry Johnny I’ll get you out.” I reached into the window. A searing pain sped up through my arm. It was on fire. I jumped inside. My only thought was that I had to save Johnny. I had to. The roof of the church was giving in, I knew that in any second Johnny Cade and I would be lost to the fire. I pushed Johnnycake out the window with the strength that was left in my free arm. I clambered back on out just as the whole church hit the ground. Johnny was lying on the ground with burns all over his scarred face. He was out cold. I cussed my arm trying to put the fire out.

After everything cooled down I remember being hoisted in an ambulance with all these medical guys running around me to see if I was ok. Shoot, I thought, why would anyone care how I was? I was wheeled into the hospital. As they rushed me by the waiting room I could see Ponyboy sitting in one of the chairs. “If you ever pull a stunt like that again I will beat the tar out of you,” I said. Into another room they rolled me. Johnny’s moans could be heard wheeling down the hall into the extensive care. I could still smell the smoke.

I was sure bored at that hospital. They kept doing stuff to me when I just wanted to get right out of there. I was even more worried about Johnny. Last I saw him he looked pretty busted up. It sent a twang of panic through my heart. He might never get better…

One day Time Shepard came to see me. Boy was I surprised. “Hey Dal.” He said.

“What are you doin’ here?” I asked

“Thought I might as well come and see you. You’re in the paper as some sort of hero. I was sure surprised when I didn’t see the ‘wanted dead or alive under it’ O’ course it don’t matter.”

“How are things going back up your way?”

“Well the big rumble is set for tonight. Shame you’re not going to be there; we could really use you.”

“Aw shoot. I would give anything to be in that rumble and smash those Socs’ faces to the ground.”

“Too bad.” He left after we talked about what had happened with the fire. I could tell he was surprised that I went back in to save Johnny. I wished the nurse would tell me something about Johnny. She didn’t say nothing even after I threatened to pull a blade on her. O’ course I wouldn’t have used it.

A few hours later Ponyboy and Two-Bit came to see me while the doctor was here. I grinned up at them as they walked in. “Hey y’all. Boy am I glad to see you, this hospital is a dump. This man won’t even let me smoke a pack. What’s wrong with these people?”

“Same old Dally,” Two-bit said with a grin. He sat down as though this was his home or something. The doctor left us and I asked Two-Bit for a pack of smokes. He handed it over. I lit the cigarette and in a more concerned voice I said, “So uh, uh how’s the kid?” I tried to sound casual but I was sure Ponyboy caught the note of panic in my voice.

“He didn’t look too good, passed out cold right before we left.” Two-Bit answered.

“Hey Pony, are you gonna come in and sit down or just stand in the doorway like a post?” He sat down awkwardly. I knew something was bugging him. It must have been old Johnnycake. “You know Tim Shepard came by, rubbed the rumble in my face. Boy I wish I could be in it.” I sat there thinking for a bit. “Hey Two-Bit, you still got that black-handled switchblade?”

“Yeah” He whipped it out of his back pocket. That switchblade was his prize possession. It was one tuff knife. He never missed a chance to threaten a Soc with that thing. I’ve never actually seen him use it. “Hand it here,” I said. He gave it to me without hesitating. I put it under my pillow for later. “I need to be at that rumble tonight. We’ll do It for Johnny.” I said my eyes blazing with anger. Anger specially reserved for the Socs. Ponyboy and Two-Bit left after that and I was left all alone to think things over. If I’m gonna make this work, I thought, I have to time it right.

The Outsiders from Johnny's point of view

The Outsiders (From Johnny’s Point of View)
By: Preeya
“Oh, glory!” Dally whispered. The church was on fire.
“Let’s go see what the deal is,” Ponyboy said. He hopped out of the car and I followed. Dally was yelling at us about how we had better get back into the car or he was going to bang our heads together, but all that I was worried about was that maybe Pony and I had started the flame.
As Ponyboy and I approached the crowd around the fire, we heard a lady talking about how some kids had gone missing half an hour ago and she couldn’t find them. Then we heard a faint cry of distress that seemed to be coming from the burning church. Quickly, Ponyboy and I ran up to the side of the church. Though many people were trying to stop us, we were determined to save those kids.
Ponyboy threw a rock at the window to make an entrance for us. The smoke was overwhelming. It seeped into my lungs, choking me. My eyes watered and it made it difficult to see, but Ponyboy and I weren’t going to give up. Racing, we speed down the hall until we found a group of four or five, eight year olds huddled in a corner.
“Help, help us, please save us!” one of the children screamed.
“Shut up!” I yelled, “We’re goin’ to help y’all!” Ponyboy grabbed the closest kid at gently dropped him out the window. Hastily, but gently, Ponyboy and I tossed the rest kids out of the window.
Right as the last little girl was out I heard the ceiling start to give way. I shoved Ponyboy through the window into the safety of outside. Suddenly I heard a beam from the ceiling creak loose from the nails that held it in place. I tried to move but I realized that my foot was caught between two floorboards that had separated during the fire.
That moment, as a watched the beam fall, seemed to last forever. Slowly it released itself from the ceiling and fell. At a snail's pace, it fell, slowly until finally it knocked me over. The pain was excruciating, and I screamed. Then everything went black.
When I woke up in the hospital, I was numb, but for only a moment. Suddenly pain pierced my body. Scars all around my body burned like the fire I had just been in. I cried out in pain. Nurses and doctors flooded into the room. One nurse pressed a button which slowly relieved my body form the unbearable pain it was in. The others rushed to pour pain reliving medicines into my mouth and onto my scars. Finally I was able to relax. At last I was able to ask the question that had been bothering me for a while. “What’s happened?” I managed to get out before I my lungs seemed to collapse, and I was overthrown with need of air.
After I overcame my coughing, chocking fit, a doctor said “Don’t worry kid, you’re in the hospital. You were in a fire and a burning beam fell on top of you and broke you’re spine, and paralyzed you from the middle of you’re back down.”
“What happened to Ponyboy, and Dally” I asked, careful not to speak to fast or to loud for fear I would have another heart attack, “Are the kids alright, am I gonna go to jail?”
“Calm down, calm down,” a nurse said,” everything is going to be just fine. And why in the world would you go to jail? Your friends are going to be just fine. And every single one of the children who were in the church are fine because you and your friend saved their lives. You should be very proud of yourself.”
After a couple of hours I sort of got used to the pain strikes. Suddenly I noticed that every nurse and doctor that came in wore a look of pain, grief, and sorrow. They looked at me like I was going to die or something. Then I realized what if I did die. The doctor said that I had some really bad third degree burns, and that the beam broke my back really badly. I could barely speak for a minute with out having to gasp for air. I immediately pressed the call button next to my bed. The doctor that head been treating me the most came to my side and asked me if anything hurt and if I needed pain medicine. “No.” I said, “But I do have a question. Am I going to die?”
The doctor looked at me, with big sorrowful eyes and said “Johnny, I’m going to tell you the truth because you deserve the truth. Not many people get serious burn like yours, along with a broken back. Really, not many people survive this kind of injury.” He paused, and the room fell silent.
“Okay,” I said “Thanks for helping me so much, and telling me the truth.” The doctor left the room without another word. I was stunned. Before, when I was home, I had always thought of killing myself, I hated the life I lived and I wanted it to end. But now that I am dying I feel that sixteen years isn’t enough. I hadn’t gotten to do the things I wanted to in such a short time. It’s amazing what some experiences can do to you.
The next morning, I was visited by a little girl, the last little girl to escape from the fire. She seemed a little scared to come in and see me, but thanks to a little coaxing from her parents, who waited outside, she came in.
She came up to me and, speaking softly, said “Hello mister.”
“Hey.” I croaked.
“Ummm…well…I just wanted to thank you for saving my life…” she quietly spoke. I was stunned, no one had ever spoken to me so nicely, and with so much love.
“Gee…you’re welcome…I guess.” I said. Not quite sure how to respond.
“Are you a super hero, mister?” ‘Cause ya sure do seem like one.” She said, breaking the awkward silence.
“Uhhh… no, I’m a greaser.” I said. The little girl had a really confused look on her face, but not wanting to talk much more she didn’t ask. Then she waved her little hand and walked back to her parents, leaving me shocked.
Because of her, I know that it’s alright if I die. Those kids’ lives are worth more than mine. I was thought of as a superhero. I may not have gotten what I wanted to, or lived as long as I wanted, but at least, because of me, other kids will.

Paul's Perspective

Meredith
March 13, 2008
Period # ¾


Paul’s Perspective

The night of the rumble was exceptionally clear. The stars were shining brighter than anyone had ever seen them, a thousand diamonds strewn across a dark, silky blanket. I think it was like that for a reason, so we could find our way. Oh gosh, now I’m sounding like one of those Greasers.
As I walked out the door, I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. I looked the same as always; clean-cut blonde hair, freshly shaved, and neatly dressed. I wore my best jacket because I wanted to put those Greasers in their place. Some of the guys wear big rings on their fingers, but I don’t. I think that’s too flashy. I pretty much look the same as most of the guys, and no one would ever say it, but that’s part of what makes us a group. My evaluation ended as I heard the unmistakable honk of the Mustang.
“Hey, hurry up Paul! Those hoods are already at the lot,” I heard one of the guys, I think it was David, yell.
“I’m comin’,” I hollered back, and I walked out the door, towards the blue car.
Sliding into the back seat, I gave my buddies a nod. We didn’t talk the whole way to the lot. I think it was cause we were all thinking about what was going to happen. I was thinking about more, though.
How did it get this way? When did we start skipping Friday night movies with the girls to fight? Why are we even fighting? The truth is, I didn’t know. I had always done it because that’s what the guys always did. I didn’t really feel anything, though. I couldn’t feel anything, anymore.
A playful punch in the ribs shook me out of my deep thoughts.
“Come on, Paul. We’re here. Get ready, man.”
I looked out the freshly cleaned window, and into the lot. A group of Greasers stood in the far edge, casually leaning on each other while having a smoke. They looked tough, standing there, lit by the glowing moonlight. But I could see right through them. They were scared as heck. Just like me.
We straightened out our jackets, and began to stride over, trying to look casual and intimidating at the same time. I couldn’t really tell if David, Matt, John and the rest of the guys were scared like me. Funny, isn’t it; how I could tell that the Greasers were terrified, but not my own buddies.
There wasn’t much talking. I could hear the hushed murmurs of some kid-Grease in the back of the group, but other than that, the night was silent.
We stood there, two entirely different worlds facing each other, ready to fight. But fight for what? For brags? For territory? For pride? For Bob?
After an intense silence, a large, broad shouldered Grease emerged from the darkness. He was muscled, and he wore a tight black T-shirt. Gosh, he looked like he could take out any one of us. He walked into the moonlit circle, and I realized who he was.
“I’ll take on anyone,” he said. His voice was steady and confident. No one stepped forward.
Darry Curtis. It was Darry Curtis, the quarterback. A sharp pang of sadness shot through me. Darry and me had been on the team together, had been buddies.
I remembered that one football season. Darry had always been quiet, but we were pals, before the world divided, that is. After practice, we would stay on the muddy field and pass. We had nowhere to go. We just loved the crisp autumn air, and the rough feel of the football. He ended school with a full-ride to college, he was good at football, and I had always envied him. He didn’t go. Something about his parents, and he needed to be at home with his kid brothers. Darry dropped the chance of a lifetime for his family. I envied him for that, too. I had never had someone care that much about me. I mean, sure Pop was paying for college (and just about everything else), but that wasn’t enough. He didn’t care about me like Darry cared about his brothers. For the first time since that season, I missed him.
Then the anger came. He was a Greaser, and some of his hood buddies had killed Bob. I could never forgive him. He was nothing but a violent, no-good hood. All of my fear drained, I felt nothing but rage. I stepped forward.
“Hello, Darrel,” I said, almost subconsciously. My emotions had taken over. Right then I could see the ice and hate he had in his cool blue eyes. It was directed at the guys. It was directed at me.
“Hello, Paul,” he responded, a threatening tone coming over in his voice. We both glared at each other, not saying a word.
That football season went by my eyes; the feeling of friendship I had once felt was gone. It was replaced with hatred.
I guess I can’t name what I was feeling at that moment. I wanted to hate Darrel Curtis. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t do it.
I heard a good-looking hood gasp, and whisper to the kid. Everyone gathered around, closing us off. It was at that moment that I realized we were closed off from the rest of the world. It was all about the Socs and the Greasers, about fighting and hatred. Nothing else mattered anymore. It was this realization that almost made me step back and walk away, but before I knew it, Darry was moving.
He was slowly circling around the ring of light, a vicious look on his face. I began to circle, too.
Everything else just stopped. No one else was there. It was just Darry and me. We were buddies again, just goofing around….
And then there was a hard, rugged punch to my head, and I was back. I was back and ready to fight.

Socy Kid At the Fountain (sry about the other one i messed up)

They took our girls. Or rather, they took their girls: Bob’s and Randy’s. They were just sitting there, all calm and peaceful. They didn’t notice us, and I could see them there, minding their own business.

Our car horn blasted. Oh what a tuff sound from such a tuff car. Bob had a blue Mustang and it’s the coolest car I’ve ever seen. We started circling them, but our car wasn’t in control. Bob was driving. He was drunk. He always got drunk, had no sense of control. Bob always took things too far, and I can never tell why.

“Why are we doing this?” I didn’t mean to say it, but it came, without warning.

“Shut yer trap.”

I received a smack on the head for that one, but I deserved it. We deserved everything Bob gave to us. He was the greatest. Our leader. I was a follower. I don’t see why we do what we do, but it’s how things work. I’ve never been hurt by what we do, and I probably never will. I trust Bob because he’s my pal and he’s smarter than me.

We hopped out of the car making sure to slam the doors. It sounds tuffer, but they were too far away, and I knew that they couldn’t hear us. They looked fourteen, and we were all seventeen. There were five of us, two of them. It wasn’t fair. It’d take you an awful long time to find someone who said that five on two is a fair fight.

I staggered like I was drunk. I wasn’t, in fact I had never even tasted alcohol before. The gang didn’t know it though, and it makes you look cooler if you look like you’re drunk. That’s the thing about us. We do what the gang does, and don’t question it. I feel weird, different. I feel like what we do is wrong. I wonder if other people question it as well, but I don’t think they do. I don’t like feeling different, so I just go along with what Bob does.

Maybe they could take us if they had weapons. You know, switches, bottles, belts, whatever they could get their hands on. The smaller of the two looked scared sick. Maybe he’d never been jumped before, or maybe had seen too much violence for his own good. I couldn’t tell. The other one didn’t look scared at all. He took out a weed and started smoking it, and it only made him look tuffer.

“Hey, whatta ya know?” Bob’s voice was slurred. His breath smelled terribly of whisky when he spoke. “Here’s the little greasers that picked up our girls. Hey grease.”

“Y-y-you’re outa your territory,” the scared one said. “You’d better watch it.”

A swear came out from somewhere, sounded like Randy’s voice, and Bob stepped forward.

“Nup, pal, you’re the ones who’d better watch it. Next time you want a broad, pick up your own kind-dirt.”

The cool one started to get angry. He looked like he hated us. But he should hate them, Bob and the rest, not us. I never wanted to hurt anyone, not even come to the park, but it happened and I couldn’t help it.

“You know what a greaser is? White trash with long, greasy hair.” Bob was pushing his luck.

I could see that the kid was mad now. I couldn’t blame him. The small one let out a gasp and the big one talked. “You know what a Soc is? White trash with Mustangs and Madras.”

He was right. I had the breaks in life. It was easy for me.

He spit at us.

All hell broke loose. The kids were running for their lives-literally.

“Give the kid a bath, David,” Bob said almost too calmly.

I knew David would do it. I would've done it if Bob had told me to, but it was Bob in the end that drowned the kid, twisted his arm behind his back and shoved his face into the fountain. He was dying, I thought. I was beating up the other kid, kicking him while he was on the ground. I was on him for the sole reason that I needed something to do. If I hadn’t beaten him up I would’ve been the only one not doing my part, and I would suffer for that later, so I went on kicking him. The kid shook loose from me and pulled a knife. Before I could stop him, Bob was on the ground. The fountain was filled with red.

Bob was dead.

Randy and the rest of them were running towards the car. I just stood there, watching the aftermath of what had happened. I couldn’t stand it. Bob, our leader, our buddy, was dead.

It wasn’t his fault. Don’t blame him. He was as lost as us, just hid it with the alcohol. If anything, blame the alcohol. Not his fault. Not his fault. Not his fault…

But it was.

Two people were dead, my buddy, and the one he killed. They lay there just looking dead, nothing more, nothing less. Just dead. The other kid, the scared one, was just huddled there next to the fountain, rocking back and forth, looking at his shaking hands, gazing at the bloody knife, wishing quietly to himself that he hadn’t killed my friend. He had black eyes, black hair in his face. I wanted to push it back for him, tell him everything was okay. He was one of those kids that you just want to love. That you want to love unconditionally. That you want to love with all your heart. But I knew I couldn’t love him. He’s a greaser, I’m a Soc. Things don’t mix between us. He’s oil, I’m water. We can get close, but never mix.

He hadn’t noticed me, and I decided it was better that way. I walked backwards for a bit, glancing at the scene. I saw three dead kids, three kids that could never come back. I turned away and started at a run.

Socy Kid At the Fountain

DALLY AT THE MOVIES

Christine

Black, white, and grey pictures flickered off the screen, scripted words I heard. Oh, they were like those movies that Ponyboy likes so much. I moved across the grounds, eyeing the many gangs; I even chased a few small junior-high kids, just teasing though, mind you. They’re so small and short. I don’t remember ever being that small. I feel like I’ve been this big, mighty guy all my life.
It was getting late, so it was easy to defy the rules. The sky was all dark, midnight blue, that’s the color. But whether it was dark of not, I didn’t really care. Let me tell you, I never pay for my fares and I always break the laws. I take the illegal train. Tickets and fees and rules are so dang stupid. Every one of those laws- stupid. I always break the rules; I purposely break the rules. It’s downright known that I never follow regulations. Rules make things so much harder and complicated. Besides, it’s fun to break them. I get caught, big deal. Dang it, it don’t affect me no more than mud takes on a pig.
Now Ponyboy and Johnny, they seem to have some holy ghost upon them. They never do anything wild and exciting. Oh sure, they follow us older boys around, but they’re kinda like wimps, if you get what I mean. Ponyboy’s never even held a piece of broken bottle for more than a few minutes. And I know Darry and Soda know that too, well, that Ponyboy’s not much of a gang fighter. Johnny, well he never did like all this fighting too much. He’s not too partial, I suppose, on gangs and all the violence that takes place. But that’s Johnny, and I don’t mind it. He’s like my family, my brother.
So this was one of those drive-in movies around the area. Of course, and I can bet you this, that Ponyboy knew exactly where we were. He’s definitely different than the rest of us Greasers. Well sometimes he is, with his “artsy” emotions and how much he spends just thinking. Anyways, picture me, walking all cool and collective. I’m cool and I am collective, so don’t be messing with that thought. So, I see these mighty fine girls sitting in one of the rows. It’s a pretty nice night out. We meet glances and I stare at them pretty coldly. This was great. Girls are so easy to tease and pick on. Guys, they’re tough and cold. They turn cold. But girls aren’t like that. They show their emotions. Girls are so much fun to play around with. Come one, what can say? They just are.
There was this one girl; she was sitting next to some other girl, who seemed to never shut up. This girl had the truest color of red hair I’d ever seen in my life. Maybe the only person I’d ever seen with red hair. I sat right behind her, taking my butt and sitting it down. I started to talk really loud. I guess you could say I was trying to pick this girl up. She was downright pretty and there was a good chance I could, maybe. Ponyboy had a little doubtful look on his face and Johnny just looked nervous and he quickly got up to get a coke, what a boy.
This girl wouldn’t take any of my nonsense. I mean, I flirted; I even played with her fiery red hair. She just ignored me, kind of sat there, chewing her gum real loud, as if that would cover up my voice. I put my feet up on her chair; maybe this would get her attention. I winked at Ponyboy. I said something I guess I shouldn’t have said and she abruptly turned around, all mad in the face, and said, “Take your feet off my chair and shut your trap.”
That sure got me fired up. I looked at her, just kept on looking. I kept my feet there. They felt quite comfortable there, actually.
“Who’s gonna make me?” I said.
The real annoying girl turned around and told the redhead, “That’s the greaser that jockeys for the Slash J sometimes.” I don’t know about you, but it seemed like she thought I was deaf. I don’t care about them Socs calling me a Greaser. I get that way too much to even care. Turning hard and cold, well, that’s what happened to me. Then it occurred to me.
“I know you two. I’ve seen you around rodeos.”
“It’s a shame you can’t ride bull half as good as you can talk it.” That’s what the redhead one spit out right back at me. I don’t take no bull from anybody and she sure knew how to talk back trash. Maybe that’s why I kept on talking, trying to get her to like me. She got me fired up and I guess I kind of liked that feeling. She could be a keeper, this one.
“You two barrel race, huh?” I said.
“You better leave us alone, or I’ll call the cops.” The redhead said back.
That’s real funny, calling the cops. The cops sure scare the heck out of me now, huh. This girl sure was one to tell jokes.
“Oh, my, my, you’ve got me scared to death. You ought to see my record sometime, baby. Guess what I’ve been in for?” I questioned her. I don’t think she knew I was such the bad boy. Heck, going to jail, being arrested, what’s that mean to me? My goodness, you should’ve seen that redhead’s face when I said that.
“Please leave us alone,” she said. “Why don’t you be nice and leave us alone?” I grinned like a wildcat.
“I’m never nice. Want a coke?” I asked her. By golly, the redhead was mad then. She was fired up so badly now.
“I wouldn’t drink it if I was starving in the desert. Get lost, hood!” she screamed back at me. Then I knew I wasn’t welcome. Whatever- didn’t bother me. Maybe she did have a little thing for me. Certainly hoped she did, since she was mighty cute. I guess I just couldn’t see it. I shrugged, stood up, and walked away to get some cokes.
The coke line was long, so like I always do, I budged and cut. There is point in fussing about being first or last, at least for me.
“Man, let me through, you piles of junk. You let me first, all of you! Move! Are you deaf?!” I shouted, pushing past those people. Dang it, some people just never understand that when people need to get somewhere, they should make a clear pathway.
It was hard enough to push the people aside, but then came the annoying cash register clerk. He said I had to get in the line, and all the way to the back.
“What? Do I look stupid to you, clerk?! I was here first! My god, I’m just buying a couple of cokes for some of my friends!” I shouted some more, saying anything that would make this stupid man listen.
“Kid, you can’t just cut in front of this people. Go to the back of the line. You have to, kid.” The clerk said.
“I ain’t goin’ anywhere. I ain’t standing up for any of this bull you’re giving me. Come on, let me buy the cokes!” I shouted, knocking over some plastic cups. I was feeling fired up and hot in the face. My hands clenched in a fist. I was about to bust this man’s face open.
“Alright, kid. Okay, alright. H-How many cokes?” the man asked. I grinned and paid for the stupid cokes and walked outside. I knew heads were turning as I, the tough Greaser, walked out to the movie. Man, why can’t people just cooperate once in awhile. The world would just work so much smoother.
I think Johnny was looking for me when I got back to the movie. Ponyboy was deep in conversation with the red-head. Johnny looked kind of nervous. I mean, that’s just how the kid is. But I think it’s funny that his biggest chance of ever picking up a girl is right in front of him and he’s just sitting there, fidgeting. God, Johnny.
I came up to them with an armful of cokes and handed one to the redhead. I sat down beside her and said, “This might cool you off.”
She looked at me in disbelief, as if I did some big terrible thing and then she threw the dang coke at me.
“That might cool you off, greaser. After you wash your mouth and learn to talk and act decent, I might cool off, too.”
Oh man, this girl was feisty. She knew how to put up with grease toughness and she sure was adamant about what she wanted and stood by it. I wiped the coke off my face with my sleeve and I grinned.
I think, little red head, it’s time to get a taste of your dirty medicine.
“Fiery, huh? Well, that’s the way I like ‘em.” I said, grinning even more. I tried to make a move, putting my arm around her, getting real close.
“Leave her alone, Dally,” someone said.
It was Johnny. What was up with him? I was trying to have a little fun. Come on, this is fidgety Johnny, we’re talking about. This is poor little Johnny, who don’t know a rock from a pebble, that’s taking sides here.
“Huh?” I said, completely surprised.
Poor Johnny was scared out of his wits, looking like he was about to pee in those pants. He gulped.
“You heard me. Leave her alone.” Johnny repeated.
Nah, I can’t hurt Johnny. Steve, Two-bit, even Soda, I would’ve crushed ‘em right there and then. Man, Johnny. Why does he gotta be like that, being my favorite, “the pet”? I scowled; I knew I definitely wasn’t welcome now. That was twice I’ve been unwelcome. What was up with that? I stood up, and walked off, hands in my pocket. I was frowning or maybe I was scowling, but I sure was unhappy. Johnny finally had the guts to be the hero.


But why did I have to be the bad-guy?