An hour to sunset in Tulsa, Oklahoma, April of 1964. There were some clouds in the sky, signaling possible rain, though they hung in the sky as uncertainly as anything. It was beautiful, really. The spring flowers had begun to grow, the trees lush and green before the real heat of the summer could dry them and turn them the same yellow-brown as the earth and the grass and the dusty pavement of the streets. People were free to walk in town without needing to seek refuge in the shade, but still able to enjoy the fresh air as much as anyone. In a small, two-story house on a street corner, there was a ruckus.
"Diane, sweetie? Are you going out? Don't forget a jacket!"
"I will mom, calm down."
"Don't have an attitude young lady!"
"Yes mother."
"Diane."
The head of a young woman, brunette hair in a flipped bob held back with a headband peeped her head around the door frame, raising an eyebrow. "Yes?"
Her mother, Ms. Shirley Carter looked her daughter over, nervous. She'd always been a cautious woman, though the events of the last month had her on a constant edge. "Are you sure you're confident walking around?" She asked. "We're not in the best area, you know. I've told you this, there's hooligans and gang wars all around and I don't want to see you caught up in that."
Diane, stepping fully into her mother's view, shook her head, smiling a little. "I promise, I'm gonna be alright. I won't go into alleys, I won't talk to strange men, I'll stay away from the wrong crowd. You can trust me."
"Still." Ms. Carter wrung her hands in her dress, sneaking glances at the clock. "I'm scared for you. You remember your curfew?"
"An hour after sunset. I have our phone number written down in my pocket, I know our address in case I get lost and need to ask for directions." She reassured. "I love you."
"I love you too sweetie. I wish we didn't have to be here, I know you didn't want to move here, but I'm glad you want to get out of the house before you have to start at school." Her lips pressed into a thin smile, though she avoided eye contact. "You'll get used to it, I loved spending my summers here when I was your age."
Diane nodded, kissing her forehead as a gesture of trust. "I know you did. Promise me you won't fuss over the bills too much tonight? And promise not to down a whole bottle of wine again."
Her mother blushed a little in indignation, but she nodded. Her daughter had a point. "Alright. Remember, your curfew is an hour-"
"After sunset!" She finished, saying the final 'goodbye' before running out the screen door into the late evening sun.
She made it to the corner before she slowed to a walk. Her fists clenched, her jaw locked, she held back hot tears of anger and sadness. She wanted to go home, not to the little house that her mother's cousins lived in and she had to stay in because her mother fell into debt. She wanted her father. She wanted her hometown, all her friends, even her old teachers at this point. She wasn't going to get anything she wanted any time soon, of course. Fate had other plans for her, of course.
It wasn't uncommon for workers at automotive factories like the one her father worked in to come home with scrapes and such, it was a normal occurrence, occupational hazard, understandable. But one Tuesday night call from her father's boss made those little bruises and cute small change. He offered consoling words, explanations, and later, fake looking smiles and the smell of sweat masked with cheap cologne. It was a accident, he had said. The odds of scaffolding falling on someone like that was minuscule. There would be family compensation. Don't press charges, there would be a bad rap for the company. He said a lot of things.
Four people died that day.
Three hundred dollars was given to them as condolences. It barely covered the closed-casket funeral and funeral plot. He didn't even come to the funeral.
Two people were left in her immediate family- her mother and herself.
One month was all it took for them to move out and down south for a new start. Her mother had grown up in Oklahoma and spent many summers in Tulsa where her aunt and uncle were, causing all levels of trouble with her cousins. Diane's great aunt and uncle had passed away, leaving the home to her cousin, his wife, and their child. And now they were taking the two remaining Carters in.
There were arguments. Bitter things said. Regretted words. But at the age of sixteen, they had no effect. So there were suitcases and trunks packed, and train rides across the country.
Tulsa wasn't home. Not yet.
She finally arrived in a small park, not a soul present. There was a swimming pool that wasn't open for the season, but there were also swings, a slide, etcetera. She decided to sit on one of the swings, idly kicking at the dirt with her toes.
Diane shivered. She didn't actually follow her mother's advice on taking a jacket. She didn't like to follow her advice often, though often admitted to herself that she was right a lot of the time. She rubbed the bottoms of her arms, looking around. She was alone.
However, she wouldn't be alone for long, because to her left, a group of boys were approaching. She had absolutely no idea who they were, and they looked like trouble. She tensed. Her family had warned her about these sorts of kids.
They were the kids labeled as greasers, hoods, criminals. The idea wasn't too odd. Back in Detroit, it was seen as common by the rest of the country, especially now. She tried to stay out of groups. Then again, they tended to stay away from her. The boys, probably six of them, stopped at the other end of the swing set eyeing her like a pack of vultures. One of them lit a cigarette. Diane sat up a bit straighter.
"So what's a nice looking broad like yourself doing all alone at night?" One of the taller ones asked. Diane rolled her eyes, huffing in annoyance.
"Minding my own business, thank you very much. I'd like if you did too." She responded, hoping they'd get the message.
"Alright blondie, I see you're a challenge. We here like challenges, I know Two here does, he loves them even."
"I've had my fair share there, Dallas."
"You could add another to that list, if you try."
"I might just-"
She spun her head to face them directly. "I'm right here you know. I'm not a pretty face to debate about and try and impress. You won't be doing anything to me at all."
"Really now? What's your name then, if you're not just a face?" The one that she took to be Two asked. He had rusty hair, a face full of freckles, and a shit-eating, crooked-toothed grin plastered across his face.
"Diane. Diane Carter. Also known as not interested." She replied, looking away.
He looked a bit crestfallen.
"And you all are?" She continued. "My mom told me not to talk to boys like you. You're delinquents."
"Two-Bit Mathews, at your service. This is my gang." He gestured to the others, who continued to watch intently. "Ponyboy, our resident babyface and trainee crook," The youngest looking one, who had lit the cigarette, raised his hand, though shot Two-Bit a glare after being called a babyface.
"Johnny," A small, darker skinned boy nodded.
"Dally," The tough looking blonde that had struck up the conversation waved a little.
"Sodapop," Another blonde, though much kinder looking, smiled as he put his arm around Ponyboy's shoulders.
"And Steve."
"Pleasure." Diane said, obviously disinterested. "I have to say, your parents are interesting if they name you things like Two-Bit and Sodapop and Ponyboy."
Sodapop chuckled. "Well, Two-Bit isn't his real name, it's actually Kei-"
Two-Bit interrupted him. "It doesn't matter, everyone calls me Two-Bit, and that's what matters."
He was playfully hit in the arm. "As I was saying… His real name is Keith, but he's always got to get his two-bits, so the name stuck. As for Ponyboy and I… We have interesting parents."
"I saw the resemblance." Diane mused.
He beamed, seeming proud of it. Ponyboy stayed quiet, he couldn't have been more than thirteen in Diane's eyes. He really did have a baby face. Unlike everyone else, he didn't have the remnants of the morning's shave or a cracking voice. He shouldn't be in a place like this, thought Diane. He was too young and had too much intelligence in his eyes to flourish here. He should be somewhere safer, but like the rest of them, he was stuck.
"So," Dallas asked. "Where are you from, gorgeous?"
She disregarded the comment. "I'm from Michigan, the Detroit area. You all hear the news about… Everything going on up there. At least you don't seem to have that down here. It's quiet."
"It's not that quiet, you know. Plenty of stuff goes on around here." Steve butted in.
"Like?" She asked.
"Just ask Dally, he causes half of it."
Dallas almost looked offended. "I do not. You guys do just as much… But, there's the usual theft, stores held up, rumbles, the occasional jumping and murder. Old hat." He explained, as nonchalant as if he were discussing the weather.
Diane shrugged. "I… Guess?" She ignored the cool, wet drop on her head. "I mean, we had that at home, but Jesus, you kill people?"
"We don't. Just rough em up a bit." Answered Dallas. Another few drops hit the ground, causing tiny explosions in the dust. "If I had to kill someone, though, I would. Never know what could happen if you're cornered."
She kicked her toes in the dirt again. They seemed to be showing off, but not really flirting anymore to her relief. She supposed they appreciated a fresh face, probably tried it with every girl in town by now. She wasn't that pretty in her opinion, and definitely not in the opinion of boys back home. Secretly, she enjoyed the attention.
"I know I'd kill someone." Steve added. "I always carry a blade just in case. Actually, I think Johnny and Pony here are the only greasers in town who wouldn't wanna take out someone."
The two aforementioned boys looked embarrassed, but nodded in agreement. They were as innocent as they looked. Diane shivered at the thought.
"You know," Steve continued. "You really shouldn't be walking through either side of Tulsa without this." He handed her, to her mortification, a small blade. A small drizzle started, nothing too bad. "It's my spare. You look too nice to be a full grease, but not quite an uppity up. Treading that line ain't safe."
She slowly took it, slipping it into her pocket. "Thanks… I guess. Suppose you're right."
He offered a toothy grin. "Any time, m'lady."
There was a small silence within the group, and within those few minutes, the drizzle became a downpour.