The Runaway
Ponyboy
I didn't know where else to go. They'd ask my brothers first. I couldn't get my family involved in this, no matter how much I missed them. I missed them so much...no matter how I tried not to think about Darry and Soda, they always snuck their way in. It was coming upon a year...only a few more months. But thinking about that day just made me want to start bawling again, so I did my best not to. Three more years until I was eighteen and maybe then I could go home... Of course, that wasn't looking as likely now. Who knew if I could ever go back after this.
Johnny wouldn't know what to do...heck he'd just suggest this. This was always his answer. Had always been his answer. I hadn't seen Johnny in so long. I missed my best friend. Steve...well I hadn't talked to Steve in quite a while so he might have helped but I couldn't be sure anymore, and I couldn't get Two-Bit involved either. No...when it came to things like this, Dallas Winston was my best bet. Not that I'd seen him in at least three months. For all I knew, he didn't even work here anymore. But I would chance it. I needed help. I had to get out. I'd used the last bit of money I'd stolen to get here. Dallas had to be here. He could help me.
Dally had looked me up a few months ago, and even though he'd waited almost six months to do it, I guess I was just glad he'd come at all. Four months in a boys home, and then a little over three more in the hellhole they called a foster home and I'd been overjoyed to see him standing outside my school. He'd looked kind of concerned when he saw me though, and I guess that was because I'd lost weight and had a black eye. No one else seemed to care so I had been surprised that he did. I'd kind of forgotten what that felt like.
I'd almost hugged him. It had been a close thing. I'd been about to start the too-short walk home, and I'd spotted him leaning against a car I guess he'd borrowed. His jaw had gotten tight when I'd run up to him, and his eyes had raked over me, narrow and almost worried. "Hey kid." He'd greeted me simply, like I'd just seen him yesterday. In fact, the last time I had seen him was the day the social worker had shown up in our living room, ordering me to pack. Darry had had a fit. Soda had started bawling. But Dally had just sat there, glaring holes in the back of the social worker's back. Then he'd met my eyes, pulling me out of my panic. 'Toughen up, kid.' His eyes had told me. I'd tried. Ever since that day, I'd been trying so hard. Glory it was hard.
I wanted my brothers so bad. But I'd only spoken to Soda three times since that day, and I hadn't talked to Darry at all. No visitation rights. No contact for at least six months after what had happened with Bob...those were the rules. And then, a month after we'd supposedly been allowed to see each other...still nothing. I had to wonder...had Darry and Soda forgotten me? No way. No matter how Darry and I had fought before I'd been taken away, I knew he didn't really hate me.
"Need a ride back to your house?" Those words from Dal a few months ago had almost made me start bawling right there in the middle of the parking lot, and I'd nodded, eyes hot, climbing carefully into the car. The asshole had snapped a few days ago and the black eye had been the least of my troubles at the time. If Dally noticed how stiff I seemed, he sure hadn't let on. I was just glad the long sleeved shirt covered my entire upper body.
"I had Tim and his gang scouting around...one of 'em finally spotted you." He'd told me from the driver's seat. Apparently he knew where I lived. By car, it had only taken a few minutes. On foot, if I walked slowly enough, I could stretch it out to thirty. I didn't run track here, so they didn't suspect I could move any faster. Dally hadn't asked me any questions, and I'd bitten back every single one I had for him. Was Soda okay? Did Darry miss me? What about Johnny and Two-Bit? Heck, I'd even wanted to know how Steve was doing. But more than anything, I hadn't wanted Dally to leave me there again. Of course, I couldn't have said any of that to him. Or maybe I could have. He'd seen some bad things. No doubt he would have believed me.
Instead of exchanging stories we'd sat outside the hellhole for a little while, him handing me a cigarette and me glancing at the house before taking it. Of course he didn't miss that. "They don't want you smoking?" He'd asked, his voice betraying no interest.
"They don't like it." I'd told him simply, leaving out stories of the times the asshole had caught me and put the lit cigarettes out on my skin. No need for him to know that. He'd tried it on the youngest of us, my foster sister, just a few days ago. The girl was new, a year younger than me and already tougher, but she dug okay. She'd lit up before I could warn her, and when the man had tried that shit with her, I'd grabbed the cigarette and thrown it out the window. It was how I'd gotten that black eye...and the bruises on my stomach Dally hadn't seen.
"Darry's trying to get a court date. Hell, he's been trying since day 1, kid." Dal had told me, puffing hard on his stick. I inhaled deeply, holding the cigarette limply between my first two fingers and staring out the window instead of at him...I didn't want to cry in front of Dally. "They're still giving him the runaround." I'd figured that. I couldn't believe that Darry would willingly let me stay here. When they'd all but dragged me out of my house, he'd grabbed me back, wrapping his arms real tight around me and putting his cheek on my hair.
"I ain't gonna let this happen, Pony. We're gonna get you out, you hear me, kiddo?" I'd nodded, truly believing it. Then a few months had passed...then I'd been put in a foster home a few towns over and my hope was pretty much all used up. They hadn't bothered taking Soda...he had been just over a year from eighteen, so he was still a minor, but he hadn't been involved with the stuff with Bob, so I guess he wasn't in trouble. I'd made him a card on his seventeenth birthday. Inside was the best picture of him I could draw, and even I had to admit, it looked just like him, laughing eyes and all as he stood beside Steve. I could remember them perfectly, leaning against Steve's truck...it had taken me three weeks at the boy's home where, thankfully, I'd mostly been left alone.
Darry, too, had gotten a homemade card for his birthday, this one a picture of him with a fishing pole, turning and grinning at me. I remembered that too. I'd gotten a bite that day...he'd turned with a smile for me as Dad had helped me reel it in, only a few months before our dad was gone. "There you go, Pony!" He'd said, grinning at my excitement as Dad had put a hand on my shoulder.
I kept both cards under my mattress at the hellhole, tucked up above the box spring. It was the only safe place. It was also where I kept my switch. Thankfully, I had all three things on me now.
Outside of that hellhole, parked out on the street, I'd turned to Dallas. "Don't tell them. Please." I'd asked. He'd regarded me coolly.
"Tell 'em what? That I found you, or that the asshole you live with beats on you." Both were true. I'd shrugged, not trying to deny it, nor was I surprised that he and I had the same nickname for Richard.
"Either. Why worry 'em?" I had known what he was thinking. Why didn't I just tell the social workers or someone what was really going on? The answer, of course, was that I had. What I hadn't known was that my word didn't count for much since Johnny and I had nearly killed a soc in the park, and the social worker and the asshole were seeing each other on the side anyway. He'd made himself real clear that night that I had better not ever open my mouth again.
Instead of answering me, Dally had jerked his chin to something behind me, and I'd turned to find Lianne with a new black eye that matched mine. There were five of us foster kids crammed in that place, with two older guys sharing a room with me, and a seventeen year old girl sharing a room with Lianne. Thankfully the other guys never messed with me...well, not after that first night when I'd held my own against them. Apparently they'd respected that. The oldest girl ignored all of us. No one minded much. "Hey Li." I had no problem with any of my new 'siblings.' I just wanted to go home. "Lianne, this is Dallas." I had held off on the last names. If I'd learned anything over the last few months, it was that less was more. "Dally, this is Lianne. She just got here a few days ago."
He'd nodded to her, a relatively polite smile on her face. "Nice to meet ya." He'd said, using the voice he always used around girlfriends and family. Not too nice but friendly enough.
"Likewise." She hadn't been scared of him that was for sure. She was pretty, I guess, but at only just thirteen, she wasn't old enough to interest Dally much. "You best get inside. We've got about twenty minutes." I'd nodded, and she'd headed back into the house. Turning back to Dal, I'd asked him again.
"Don't tell them. Please, Dal?" I rarely asked Dally for anything…of course now, I would have to ask him something big.
He'd stared at me for a minute, then shrugged. "Whatever you say, kid." I'd paused before jumping out of the car.
"They alright? Soda and Darry?" He'd shaken his head, a mirthless smile on his face.
"Naw, kid. They ain't." He'd pulled out his wallet, then, holding out a dollar that I took after a second of hesitation. "Get yourself something to eat, kid." And that had been the last time I'd seen him. Until now. I had to see him now.
Buck answered the door. He didn't know me, thankfully, and he couldn't get word to anyone that I had been here. The asshole would be forced to report me missing by tomorrow night at the latest, and I had to be far away by then. I had to get out. And not to another foster home. Not back to the boys' home. I had to get out. "I need to talk to Dallas Winston." I told him, making my voice low and tough.
He shook his head, probably about to tell me that Dally was busy, and I took a threatening step forward. I knew I was taller, and the new ragged cut running from my temple to my mouth made me look pretty tough. I was sure my eyes were still red from crying, one already swelling from the black eye, but there was a chance he'd think I was on drugs or something. I was still thin...thinner than before. I was always hungry but the asshole never bought food, at least not for us. It was best not to be caught eating anything from the pantry, and when the asshole's wife did cook, it wasn't much. The older guys, while they didn't look out for me or nothing, sometimes gave me some change to buy lunch at school. "I need to talk to Dallas Winston right now." I snarled, getting up in his face. I knew I looked mean, especially with that new cut on my face. I'd perfected that look over the last few months. It worked at school, since there were no real greasers or socs in that town, and it would work now...I hoped. I really didn't want to give my name. Then an idea occurred to me. "Tell him Tim sent me."
I hadn't spoken to Tim Shephard since the night at the movies when Johnny and I had nearly killed Bob. I wondered if he was even still around, but Dally had told me that Tim had looked for me, probably as a favor to Dal. I don't know why Dallas had wanted to find me, but I sure was grateful. It was kind of good to be back in Tulsa, even if I couldn't stay long. Buck nodded, hands up as he took a step back, and left me on the porch.
Dally came to the door a minute later, lifting a startled eyebrow at me. I knew he could tell I had been crying, and that the cut was new...it was still seeping blood, even though I'd gotten it almost two hours ago. He had to know I wouldn't be crying in front of him unless it was bad. It was bad. "Come on in, kid." He told me, jerking his head sideway and having me follow him inside. I did, sniffing a little and trying to hide it. He led me up the stairs to his room, which I'd never entered before and he shut the door behind us. Darry and Soda hadn't wanted me coming here. Just thinking of my brothers made me want to cry again, so I sat down on his bed, dropping my head in my hands and sniffling, the tough act gone now that it was just me and him. Heck, Dally knew I wasn't tough.
"What's going on, kid?" He asked quietly, pulling up an old folding chair and sitting across from me, holding out a clean rag that I pressed to my face, wincing a bit. "What the hell happened to you?" I didn't want to answer that. If I had a choice, I'd never answer that...but I doubted I'd have a choice. Dally always got what he wanted.
"I need your help, Dal." My voice sounded weak and strangled, even to me, and I tried not to start crying again like I had on the bus ride over. "You gotta help me. I gotta get out." I didn't know how long I had until the asshole and his buddies came looking for me here. I figured they were still looking around the town, but they hadn't known I'd have change for the bus, or that the last ones ran this late, apparently. I'd been lucky to lose them on the streets, and I'd run for what felt like an hour before chancing to stop long enough to catch a bus.
"Calm down." He told me sternly, his voice not to be argued with. I remembered that voice. I'd missed that voice. "Tell me what happened, kid."
"I can't." I whispered, meeting his eyes with my own desperate ones. I could feel hot water dripping down my cheek, stinging the cut, but I didn't care. Pain was relative these days. "I can't. I just...I gotta get away. Far away. Please. Please help me." I was shaking like a leaf, my throat tight as I cried, and he watched me for a minute before standing, reaching into a pile of clothes and tossing me a jacket. I put it on gratefully, even though it dwarfed me. I really was skinnier than before.
"Who'd you piss off, kid?" He asked, looking ready to fight. I knew he would. If it was just that man, Dally could take him. The asshole was a big coward, beating on kids that didn't dare fight back...except for Li. She'd fought hard, and look where she'd ended up. No, it was his friends who were dangerous. They were connected, better than Tim even, with buddies everywhere from the police department to the seediest bars in town. I couldn't answer him though. I wouldn't risk him getting killed too. "How long you need to hide?" He asked when it was apparent I wasn't going to answer.
I thought for a minute, then sighed, wiping at my eyes. "Till I'm eighteen, I guess." When the social worker was out of the picture, I could go back to my brothers and try to explain...maybe the gang would be able to protect me. Or maybe he'd have forgotten about me by then. Until then, the State had the authority to send me back to the foster parents who got glowing reviews from the community for taking in so many troubled, violence-prone youths. The others sure weren't going to vouch for me...they knew the score. Dal nodded, jaw tight as he watched me. I wondered if he thought I looked like Johnny with a new black eye and a cut on my face. My knuckles were bleeding too...I hadn't noticed. I suppose the bus driver had, but he hadn't seemed to care.
"Pull your sleeves up." He suddenly demanded, standing over me.
"Why?" I asked, startled and unwilling to cooperate. I should have known better. I'd been wearing them the last time he'd seen me too. I was copying Johnny's favorite trick. Long sleeves hide everything, but it was almost June and hot, so there was really only one reason I'd be wearing them.
"Cause I said so, that's why!" He snapped, reaching down and grabbing my wrist. I didn't bother fighting him as he pulled up my sleeve and exposed long rows of cigarette burns and old and new bruises. He swore loudly, holding my wrist up like a display and shaking his head, then lowering his voice. "If you just show the social worker this…"
"I did!" I finally snapped, jerking away, ashamed that I was crying again. He frowned at that, sitting in the chair again, his elbows on his knees as he looked closely at me, letting me have my arm back. When he spoke, his voice was almost gentle.
"You showed them that? They're using you as an ashtray kid. That's gotta be abuse. Even I know that."
"He's sleeping with her." I whispered, closing my eyes. "I took the bus to her office to show her...and she called him and told him what I'd said. Then she drove me back. He was waiting…told me if I ever did something stupid like that again, he'd kill me."
"We ain't gonna let that happen." His voice was cold and fierce, outrage dripping from his words. "I'll get Tim and his gang to teach him a lesson...your brothers won't put up with this shit, and you know it. We'll have those assholes arrested." It was a bleak day when Dallas Winston was talking about going to the fuzz.
"He's got friends everywhere, Dal. The police love him. We can't fight them. I ain't got a choice...I gotta get out." I made my voice soft, hoping he'd believe me.
"Your brother will kill me if he finds out. You know that right? He's finally got a court date." That made my eyes hot again, and I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, hoping to stop that before it started.
"Dal." I was whispering now, my voice tight. "If I don't get away from here...far away, I won't make it to the court date." I looked him straight in the eye, hoping he got it.
"All this ain't about just being his foster kid and pissing him off." He spoke just as quiet, his voice hard. "What happened? What did you see?" Dally wasn't dumb, I'd give him that. I had to tell him.
"He killed her." I finally whispered, my face crumpling. "Lianne. They took her out...out behind the bar." I sobbed, my breaths coming in harsh gasps as I tried to get the words out. "They...I gotta get out. They saw me...they know that I know. I almost didn't get away...they had me. He ain't gonna let me live." I knew what I was doing. By telling him, I was getting him involved in this. It was a shitty thing to do, but I didn't have anywhere else to turn. "He was gonna say she ran away...but I saw…" A hand landed on my shoulder while I cried, and I knew it was the best comfort Dally was capable of giving. I appreciated it nonetheless. Still, I missed Sodapop and Darry something fierce.
I'd been hiding out behind the bar, desperate to get away from the asshole and away from that house. I usually found myself hanging around the bar about a mile away from the high school I went to now, a spot I hadn't seen him at yet. No one bugged me, so I would take my books there sometimes and sit around out back until it was too dark to read, my switchblade in my back pocket. That afternoon at the house, the asshole had caught me smoking on the porch and I had a fresh burn on my forearm. He'd left me on the floor of the bedroom I shared with two other guys, and I'd grabbed the cards I'd made for my brothers and my switch, hurrying out the door before he came back for me.
At the bar, I'd hung around until it was dark, sneaking in and ordering a coke I paid for with change I'd stolen from the asshole's pants pocket. I didn't dare ask for anything stronger. The last thing I needed was attention. That asshole had friends everywhere, even if I hadn't seen him in this bar, I knew he hung out in the rougher ones. He'd brought bartenders and thugs and police officers alike into the house for dinner, and they all looked at his foster kids suspiciously, telling him he was a better man than they were...they'd never take someone else's juvenile delinquent kid under their roof. So I kept away from the house as often as I could, but yesterday, I'd seen him and a few buddies, at least one a police officer, and Lianne all pull up in three cars that parked out behind the bar, almost too far for me to realize who they were until I'd heard her start screaming. They'd already dug a hole out there. And while bar itself was packed by that hour, there were no windows on the back wall, and I'd been alone, sitting under the dim lights mounted by the back door.
After a long minute, Dally stood, grabbing something from his table. I didn't look up. I was crying too hard, and I was ashamed of that. I wasn't tough like my brothers or the gang...heck, Li had been tougher than me. She'd fought to the end...up until he'd pulled out that knife. Sick, monster, asshole. I hated him. But I'd been a coward. I'd stayed hidden beside the bar, not stepping forward until it was too late. I couldn't forgive myself for that.
"Here." I didn't move. "Kid! Take this." He ordered, pushing something into my hands. I looked down to find a piece of paper with something he'd just scribbled. "Stay here. I gotta go get something." And then he'd been gone, shutting the door behind him. I didn't bother reading the paper in my hand. Whatever it was, I was sure Darry would explain soon enough. For now, I just dropped my head into my hands, the paper balanced on my leg, and wished my brothers were with me.
Thank you so much for reading!