Drawing Gallantry
The phone call was what got my heart racing at a rate I didn't think was humanly possible. Darry didn't have to say much to let us know that we had about half a second to get out of here and save him. Every second counted. A car travelled a whole lot faster than our legs did.
It seemed like forever to reach the lot. There he was, at the top of the hill with a gun pointed at the fuzz. I knew it was a dumb thing to do. He was a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them. Nobody knew that this was what he had wanted after watching Johnny's life end. Pulling a bluff was his way of saying, "I surrender; spare me now!" His wish was their command. And just like that he was a dead delinquent.
His face stained my memory. It was the last thing I saw when I came face to face with the ground and the first thing I saw when I was brought back to reality. When I saw his face again, it was almost like he was standing there in front of me. Instead it was Soda, staring at me with those reckless eyes of his. Darry was there too. He was standing back just watching over us. Soda, though, he cared a lot more than Darry. He cared enough to sit next to me forever if he had to. Soda was relieved to see me awake but I was still half-unconscious. The face that was etched into my brain moved from left to right and my eyes followed his. Sodapop told me to sleep. So I did. I had a dream Mickey Mouse. Why? I couldn't say.
I was back in reality. The day was a mystery. I was completely unaware of everything around me. The face came back though. His icy, blue eyes glared at me and it was like a fire grew inside my heart. "Tell him to look at one… There's still lots of good in the world… Tell him… I don't think he knows." Those words kept repeating itself inside my head. It got louder and louder and the face got more real every second. Next thing I knew, I was standing up trying to grasp his arm. But he wasn't there, not anymore. As much as I hated him, I didn't want to lose him. I stumbled forward when he wasn't there to catch my fall. Soda was staring at me like I was crazy. I just looked at him and hurriedly walked to my room.
I sat down at my desk and pulled out a piece of paper. I grabbed a pencil. To get the face out of my head, I drew it. The whisper of my name and the paling face of the delinquent; it had all been locked up inside. Why would he say my name? He was gonna say something and now I'll never know.
The face I had drawn of Dallas Winston was spot on. Even with his eyes closed, you could still see the anger, the hate, the pain…