Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders.
Reposted due to editing...just little grammatical changes.
Anything on Wheels
Steve's specialty was cars.
Steve smiled at what Ponyboy wrote about him and read on.
He could lift a hubcap quicker and more quietly than anyone in the neighborhood, but he also knew cars upside down and backward, and he could drive anything on wheels.
He raised his eyebrows at the compound sentence. It was true that he was an expert at lifting hubcaps. He knew everything about cars, including what's in them. He could drive a bunch of things on wheels, but anything? Steve realized he was pondering on it too hard. He was about to pick up the book Ponyboy wrote for English class again, but thought about the last words he read instead.
"Watch this, Soda," Steve said happily and put his feet on the bottom of the cart he was driving. They were at a grocery store and Sodapop's mom had given him and Pony a list of groceries to buy. She trusted her 10 year old son and his best friend in buying the food needed and watching over the youngest Curtis boy.
Now, Steve looked like he was about to race. He squeezed the bar of the cart like somebody would to start their motorcycle. His feet were in a position like he was about to run a track meet. Then, whoosh…the cart with Steve on it slid down the aisle. Steve steered it to turn right.
Then, Soda and Pony ran after the boy. He was driving around the whole store until he was about to crash into a lady. He jumped off the cart, but held on tight. His feet glued themselves to the ground and he pulled back the cart before it bumped into her.
Ponyboy and Sodapop sighed in relief behind him. Steve was grinning from ear to ear.
"That was fun! Anyone wants to try?" he had exclaimed.
Steve smiled at the memory. Well, at ten years old, he could drive a …shopping cart. Then, he remembered something else.
"Here you go, son. It's a tricycle. You think you can drive it? Just put your feet on the flat things, the pedals," Mr. Randle advised his three-old son. He watched him attempt to put his feet on the pedals and looked up back at his father for help.
"Now…uh…push with your feet," Mr. Randle said. Steve started pushing with his feet while his father put his son's hands on the handles and then helped him by pushing the tricycle from behind.
"Daddy! I'm doin' it!" Steve squealed in his yet-toddler high-pitched voice.
"Yes, you are and soon, you're goin' to be racin' down this street super-fast. You're gonna be the best, right Steve?" Mr. Randle asked. Steve nodded his head in determination. He wanted to make his father proud.
Steve snorted at the determination he had to make his father proud. He still wanted to make his father proud of him, but it was something nobody, sometimes not even he, realized.
Then, he remembered he didn't stop at a tricycle, he went on.
"Hey, Steve, after you're finished eating your birthday cake, come outside," Mr. Randle said. Steve beamed with his mouth full of chocolate cake. His mom smiled thoughtfully, knowing something her son didn't. He gobbled up the rest of his cake and ran outside.
"What is it, Daddy?" Steve asked, and received an unspoken reply. A shiny new bike with training wheels stood in the middle of the pavement in front of his house. His dad smiled broadly, standing behind it.
"How about you try it out?" Mr. Randle asked. Steve nodded his head in awe and ran up to the bike. He seated himself on it and positioned his feet on the pedals. This time his father didn't need to place the boy's hand on the handles nor inform him how to drive the bicycle. Steve did it by himself but it did take time to race super-fast down the street. He was proud of himself, and his father seemed to be, too.
At five years old, he could drive only a bike with training wheels, but at six, his father made him take another step.
"Steve!" his father hollered from across the street. He could seem him walking his way home. Steve went wide-eyed and ran as fast as he could to reach home. He was panting heavily when he reached his dadr.
"You didn't have to run…just…never mind…," his father muttered.
"You wanted me?" Steve asked.
"Oh, yeah, remember the tricycle and that bike with the trainin' wheels?" his father asked. Steve nodded his head, he remembered. He still rode his bicycle around sometimes.
"Well, today, I removed those lil' ol' wheels, so you can learn to drive a two-wheeler," his dad told him joyfully. Steve gulped, but told himself he could do it.
So, by the time was ten years old, I could drive a bike, a shopping cart, and… Steve thought. There was something missing and he dug hard and deep to find what it was.
"Hey, Steve! Look!" Sodapop pointed at a race track.
"It's a go-cart track!" Sodapop yelled and dragged his best friend to the line.
"You've been on one before?" Steve asked.
"Sure, you ain't?" Steve shook his head.
"You'll like it," Soda said and gave his friend an encouraging smile. Steve had no choice, but to trust his friend.
"Ya'll ready?" the instructor yelled. Steve was pumped up as he pushed down on the pedal and heard the some-what car vroom. He felt ready and any fear he had before had now vanished.
"Whooh!" Soda yelled behind him as everybody's go-karts raced around the track. They raced around three times until the red light finally signaled everybody to stop.
"So, did ya' like it?" Sodapop asked. Steve didn't answer, but this time it was him dragging his best friend to the line, he urged, "Let's go again."
He had come third in his first race, but aimed to be first in every race after that. Being cocky, tough Steve Randle, he often got his wish.
"Go-carts, bikes, shopping carts…"Steve murmured while lying on the couch. He remembered that Sodapop had taken him to the bumper cars to the same park where he had first driven the go-karts.
"Ya' still pumped up?" Sodapop asked. Steve nodded his head. A huge grin was on his face.
"How 'bout we go a round on the bumper cars?" Soda asked. Steve stood in front of the place. He was considering it. He soon shrugged and they both seated themselves on separate cars. They would bump each other, bump others, or race around the oval. The whole time, they were laughing.
Steve was chuckling to himself while remembering that night. They had both bumped into some tall, muscular guy. He looked really angry when they did. They had both yelled their apologies and drove away from him. The guy didn't take the apologies as enough though. He drove around bumping into them, and then when they had all gotten out of the cars, he walked around looking for them.
Steve and Soda thought he was going to beat them up; they went from booth to booth at the amusement park, hiding behind each counter and stealing a few goodies along the way. The hollering they had received from Darry at the exit was brutal when he saw all the goodies stashed up in their arms. Now, all he could do was laugh at him and his buddy, but he forced himself to concentrate on the reason he looked back at the memory.
"What else is there?" he asked himself. He didn't feel like counting the skateboard…but it was something on wheels that he could drive…or ride. It was when he was eleven years old…
"Hey, Steve! Look what I got!" Two-Bit came rolling down the sidewalk where Steve was sitting on the curb in front of his house.
"You mean stole," Steve corrected. Two-Bit shrugged and hopped off the skateboard.
"I was thinking whether you maybe could ride it or not, since you're so into stuff with wheels," he explained.
"You did something for someone other than yourself?" Steve disbelieved.
"Sure, I ain't completely selfish," Two-Bit admitted. Steve smirked and slid the skateboard across the hot pavement. It was the middle of the summer and the temperatures were still rising. He stood up and walked to it. He began rolling it back and forth with the tip of his shoe.
"I think I'll try it," Steve said. His rusty-haired friend cocked an eyebrow and sat down on the grass to watch. Steve was positioning himself on it. One foot was ready to give him a lift while the other was firmly on the board. He held the stance for a moment until his foot finally jumped off the sidewalk and placed itself on the skateboard. He tried to steer forward and was doing well for about a minute. Then, he lost balance and fell onto the grass a few feet away from Two-Bit. His friend was laughing like a good friend wouldn't do when his friend seemed to be wounded.
"Stop laughing," Steve ordered helplessly. He spit some dirt that had reached into his mouth. Two-Bit only laughed more.
Then, Steve took the skateboard and tried again. He kept repeating what he first did until the sun was setting and nighttime was approaching. Two-Bit left after Steve's continuous falls had turned boring to him.
Steve wondered if he could still skateboard as well as he did after a month of practice from that day. He didn't care anymore though. He had no need or desire to skateboard. It was a waste of time now-just as trying out a scooter was.
"A scooter?" Steve chocked out. His best friend had received a scooter as one of his birthday presents. Steve preferred his bike though.
"How much could my parents afford?" Sodapop defended. Steve couldn't say anything to that. He had recently mastered skateboarding. So, he was still thinking about whether he should help Soda learn to drive the scooter or go drive his bike instead.
"Well…can you ride it?" Steve asked. Sodapop grinned and nodded his head, "Darry helped me, it's real easy."
"Looks it, too," Steve murmured and positioned himself on it. He turned his head towards Soda first to see if he had permission.
"Whatever."
Steve's foot gave the scooter a push and he was driving it with ease. Soda and he went to Soda's house everyday to take turns with it, but soon enough, it lost their interest.
"Damn scooter," Steve cursed. He wasted a bunch of afternoons with it, but he wouldn't admit he enjoyed them anyways. He lifted himself off the couch and stretched. The door was slammed open and Ponyboy walked in.
"Hi, Pony," Steve greeted.
"Uh…hi, Steve," Pony replied.
"Did you finish my book?" he asked.
"No…I got till 'He could drive anything on wheels.' And stopped," Steve said.
"Was it that boring?" Pony asked. Steve shook his head and reassured him, "I stupidly started wondering if I really could drive anything on wheels."
"You said you could," Pony said quietly.
"Yeah… I probably did." Steve stretched some more.
"Well, you can drive a car," he stated.
"Naw," Steve denied sarcastically. He started thinking again. There was one thing he never tried to drive.
"You wanna come with me to look for a motorcycle?" Steve offered thoughtfully. Pony studied him.
"I ain't kidding. I can't believe I just offered either, but I think it'll be fun learning how to drive one. Maybe you could try, too," Steve suggested.
"Yeah, sure," Pony agreed sarcastically. He stood up, as did Steve.
"I'm goin' anyways. See ya' around, Pony. I'll come back for the book though," Steve said and pointed at it lying on the side-table. Ponyboy hesitated, "Hey, I think I'll go with you."
"I'll show you I can drive a car, too," Steve said and laughed. They walked out and jumped into his car. Steve stepped onto the gas pedal and the car vroomed down the street. He believed he could drive anything on wheels, as long as it had wheels.
What'd ya'll think?