I thought Dal could save us. He was the only one I thought could help us and so we went to Buck's. I just hoped he would be there. He had said something earlier about some party there or something, but that didn't mean he was there. But it was my only starting point. Ponyboy was freaking out, and I was, too, really. But I was trying to stay cool. Pony was kind of yelling at me, saying they put you in the electric chair and shit. I knew that. I didn't need him screaming it at me.
That dead kid, the soc, he was lying still in the moonlight. It was like a horror movie. I couldn't describe the feeling I had. I felt so cold. I did this. I took this kid's life away from him. I mean, they were drowning Pony and they weren't going to stop, and they might have killed him. Then they were gonna beat me up, and they beat me up before.
Dal didn't look all that worried, but he got it together fast. Money, a gun, a hide-out, the works. It probably would've worked, too, but somehow the cops got to us. We were on our way to the train yard and then there's the light from a flashlight in my face and I see Pony's eyes big as a deer's and I think, 'oh jesus we're screwed,'
I hate cops, man, I hate 'em. They were screaming at us, "Get down, on your knees, down on the ground, don't look at us! Hands behind your head!" Ponyboy was nearly crying and I always forget he's so young, like only 13. I just did what they said or else they'd shoot me or something. I glance over and see them handcuff Pony and at the same time I feel them handcuff me, I feel the cold steel from the handcuffs. I ain't never been arrested before. Dal and Two-bit have, and maybe Steve. That's it. Poor Ponyboy. I was feeling so bad for him. He was so good at school and everything and trying so hard to stay outta trouble and now look.
We were thrown into the back of a squad car and the lights are going and Pony is crying. I'm not. I feel kind of numb. I killed someone. That was like this unreal piece of information. I couldn't quite get it. I did that? I saw him, too, I still saw him, lying still and doubled up on that cement in front of the fountain. The blood just spreading under him.
We get to the police station and they drag us out of the car and push us toward the door, and we both stumble and almost fall. I knew just what these cops were thinking. We killed this soc, this good kid and we were the delinquents, it was all our fault. They would never believe how the socs terrorized us, how they were on our side of town and looking for us. Of course the cops wouldn't believe that. But I did kill him. I couldn't believe I did that. I never should have. I never should have. I looked up at the police station right before we went in, and it seemed like that whole building was looming in front of us, over us. It was all weighing down on us.
Dally always said if you get arrested don't say nothing to the cops, they'll use it against you. And you don't have to talk to them anyways. That would be fine if it was just me, not that it would help, but what would Pony say? He'd probably spill the whole thing.
I was brought into this interrogation room, still handcuffed. It was starting to hurt, my arms forced into this position behind my back, but I sat there with the bored and cool look on my face that we use for cops and strangers. Inside I was a mess, I kept thinking, shit, I killed someone! But I wouldn't let them see. I kept thinking how that kid, that soc, how he'll never do anything ever again and even though he was gonna hurt us real bad it still wasn't right.
"Alright, kid, what happened?" one of the cops said to me. He was old and kind of fat, and he was smoking a cigarette and man could I go for one. But I wouldn't ask and I wouldn't say nothing. I shrugged.
"There's a dead kid at the park and the witnesses say you killed him, you knifed him to death. Is that true?"
I was in a world of trouble. Witnesses. They knew I done it. So why did I have to say anything? Nothing I said would help. I could feel the despair kind of slipping over me. This was it, everything was over. How did you ever recover from something like this? I'd go to jail for the rest of my life or maybe get the electric chair and there wasn't anything anybody could do about it. Maybe I deserved that. I was a murderer, after all.
