Okay, so here's the deal. This story goes back and forth between the present and past, indicated by the dates at the beginning of each chapter. I hope it doesn't get too confusing. I don't know how good it is, but the idea hit me, so I hope you like it. Let me know what you think.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders, no matter how much I wish I did. I only own Alex and any other characters not associated with the version S.E. Hinton so gladly left for us to enjoy.
April 5, 1969
"We are here today to honor Dallas Michael Winston. He was born eighteen years ago on August 23, 1950 in Brooklyn, New York."
Do you ever have times where you think you should've noticed something different, something wrong? Those times where you wish you could go back in time and change things? Those times where you know you shouldn't do something, but do it anyway? Those times where you feel split between two things, often the conservative, cautious you and the you that wants excitement and adventure?
I did. That's how it always was with him. If you wanted to be with him, you had to learn how to keep up. And you couldn't just walk up to him one day and expect to hang out with him just for the sake of hanging out. Being around him came with a price. He expected something from everyone. You didn't just get his respect or trust for free. You had to work up to it, you had to earn it. It took a lot of work to earn it, but, once you did, he had your back. He made sure you had everything you needed and he cared, whether he showed you or not.
"Dallas was a caring man, who loved his family and friends. He stuck up for all of them at one point or another. He did what was needed of him and the Lord forgives those who are loyal to him. Dallas didn't live long enough to see the world. He'd never been away from home. But even with his mistakes, he will follow in the path of our Father."
I can't stand this. I wish he'd just stop talking. This guy didn't know him. Everything he's saying about him is thousands of miles away from the truth. I bet these ministers just use the same speeches and prayers at every funeral they happen to be part of. They probably just change the name. Like, "oh, it's not Jack Taylor we're burying today. Let's take that out and put the dead guy's name in." That simple, right?
It's just so frustrating. They didn't know the real Dallas Winston. They didn't know that he had a sweet side. Hell, they didn't know he had any other side other than the one he showed them. Little did they know that that was the side he wanted them to see.
They didn't know that he liked his coffee black. Just like his heart, as he used to say. Of course, he was wrong, but you try arguing with him. He was as stubborn as a mule.
They didn't know that his weak spots were right behind his ears and between his shoulder blades. He used to melt whenever my lips touched those places. That was our little secret. And now it always would be.
They didn't know that he had a never-ending loyalty to his friends. He always had their backs and joked around with them. He took the blame for us when one of us got caught doing something by the cops. He'd already been to jail and we hadn't. He didn't want us ending up like him: cold and uncaring. But even in him, those were only true to a certain extent.
They didn't know that he was smart. Not just street smart, but school smart, too. He knew all kinds of things without even cracking open a book. He never ceased to amaze me with his extensive knowledge. Everyone thought that he wasn't all that great in the school department, but he just chose not to show it.
They didn't know that he hated going home. Not because he disliked his parents in anyway, but because whenever he went home, he got hurt. Not physically, but seeing how little his parents actually cared about him killed him. No one knew about that but me, and maybe Johnny.
"No one knows why Dallas was taken from this world except God. He must need him up there for some holy task. Our Father would not have taken him from those who love him were it not so."
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. This guy needs to stop pretending like he knew Dallas. If there was a God, he wouldn't haven taken Dallas from me when I need him here on Earth. And another thing, if there really was a God, Dallas wasn't going to see him. Come on now, we all know how Dallas was. Would God really want someone like him in Heaven? Yeah, I don't think so either.
I look around at the people standing around the coffin. These are the people who cared about him. Tim Shepard and his crew are standing across from me looking somber. Two-Bit and Darry are on either side of me, tears streaming silently down their cheeks. Steve, Soda, and Pony are standing with us crying. I wish I could do that. Cry, I mean. My eyes are swollen and rimmed with unshed tears.
I think it's a phase I'm going through. Not being able to cry in front of people. Like phase one, I was angry. Pissed off is more like it. I was pretty much angry at the world. I was angry with the police for shooting him. I was angry with Dallas for leaving me. I was angry with Johnny for making Dallas think he was the only one who cared about him. I was angry with the gang for trying to pity me. I was angry with the Socs who caused all these problems. I was angry with my parents for not loving me for who I was instead of who they wanted me to be.
Pretty much anything or anyone I could be angry at, I was.
But as soon as I got home and locked myself in my room, I broke down. I cried for hours. I sobbed so hard and long that my throat hurt, my eyes were puffy and red, I felt like I was going to be sick and my pillow was soaked through with tears. I hadn't left my room until today and the gang sure was glad to see me.
And now, here I am, unable to let loose the tears. It's okay though. Dallas wouldn't have wanted me to cry. He hated when I cried. He said it was like a dark, stormy cloud on sunny, summer's day. He liked it much better when I smiled. He loved poking fun at my dimples.
"As we say our last goodbyes to Dallas, let our prayers go out to his family."
I have to keep myself from laughing and rolling my eyes. His parents aren't even here. That shows how much they care about him. Dal wouldn't have wanted them here anyway. They didn't care about him in life so why should they care about him in death?
The minister says his closing words and people begin to leave. You can tell the gang wants to head home, but they don't want to leave my side. I think they're afraid of what I might do if I'm left here alone with Dallas's coffin. What am I going to do, climb into it with him?
I look over at Darry and catch him wiping his eyes. He looks exhausted. I wonder if he's been up these past few days crying like me. They were awfully close after all. "Darrel, go home," I say to him.
"Yeah, and what about you?"
"I'll meet you at your house in a little while." He eyes me warily. The last time I said that was right after Dallas's body was taken away and I went for a walk to clear my head. I didn't return to the Curtis's afterwards. "I promise," I finally say.
Darry eyes me again, but then gives in. He pulls me into a hug and kisses the top of my head. He lets me go and starts to walk away. The rest of the gang follows, each patting my shoulder as they pass.
Once they're gone, I walk over to Dallas and place my hand on his coffin. My anger comes flooding back to me. Dallas, you idiot! How could you got out and get yourself killed? You fucking son-of-a-bitch! You shouldn't have left like you did! You should've come home with Pony that night! We would've gotten through it together! We were all hurting that night! You should've some home to me! You shouldn't have thought Johnny was the only one that cared about you! You had me! I love you! I thought you loved me! Oh, Dal, I miss you so much. You should be here with me, not getting ready to be six feet under.
About half way through, my anger fades as quickly as it came and pain takes its place. My eyes finally overflow with tears.
"Alex." I wipe at my eyes before turning around.
"Hey Officer Reilly," I say.
"How you holding up?"
"As well as can be expected considering the circumstances."
"It'll get easier over time."
"I hope so."
So you may be wondering why I'm being nice to a cop. But the thing is, I've known Officer Jimmy Reilly for years. Ever since I met Dallas actually. I was at the station almost as much as Dallas was. Not because I'd been arrested, but because Dal had. Officer Reilly was always the one to bring him in and I'd sit and talk with him until they released Dallas. Besides, Officer Reilly hadn't shot Dallas. He'd been off-duty that night and had been home with his family.
"You comin' over the Curtis's for some food?" I ask.
He nods. "I just got to go home and check on Sarah and the kids. She didn't think it'd be a good idea to bring them here."
"Well, bring 'em to Darry's. He won't mind."
We stand there for a minute in a comfortable silence. "You should come by the house more. Sarah would love to have you. Plus, she'd be able to give you some advice with your situation."
My hand involuntarily places itself on my stomach, where a slight bump is protruding from beneath my sweater. "Oh, um…I'm not keeping it. I…I don't think I could handle looking into its face every day and seeing Dallas."
A look of pity comes over his face before it quickly disappears and I hate it. I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me because Dallas left me with a kid in the most physical sense possible. Nor did I want them to feel sorry that I was giving up my baby. If Dallas was still alive, maybe things would've been different. But he's not and I can't raise this baby as a single mother, no matter how much help I get from my friends. Friends aren't exactly the same as having two loving—and fully alive—parents.
"Well, you should go and grab Sarah, Matt, and Jess and I'll see you at Darry's," I say.
"You sure you're alright?"
"Positive. Now go." He looks unsure of whether or not he should go, but I stare him down until he does. Then I turn back to Dallas.
I sigh. "Dal, what am I going to do without you?" I whisper. I stand there like I'm waiting for a response until I'm the only one left. I kiss my fingers and touch Dallas's coffin. "Goodbye for now," I whisper to the lifeless body inside. Then I turn and head away from the cemetery.
I really should head to Darry's but I can't stand to be in a room where I'll be suffocated my misery and pity. Instead I head for the park.
When I arrive, I go to the last swing on the set and start swinging. And as I sit there swinging, tears are falling. This place holds so many memories. It's where Dallas and I had our first kiss, under the moon and stars. He was pushing me on this very swing, and we were talking. He suddenly stopped it and his face was mere inches from mine. He kept getting closer and, finally, he closed the gap. It was pure bliss. As I remember, I could hardly sleep that night I was filled with so much elation.
A smile comes over my face as I wipe the tears away. More come though as I remember I'll never feel that way with him again. The tears come faster now and are more abundant. I'm sobbing uncontrollably.
It starts to rain. No big deal. Just sprinkling, o I stay. But then it starts pouring, coming down so hard I can barely see. I stand up and throw my arms out, looking up at the sky. "Haven't I suffered enough? You gotta kick me when I'm down! Is this how you get your kicks?" I yell to a nonexistent being in the clouds.
"You cause my family to lose everything and we have to move to this side of town! You take away my friends! You let my parents fight over who I should be! And now you take the only good thing in my life away from me! Is this one of your sick jokes? Can't you allow me to be happy for once?"
I sink down to the muddy grass and wrap my arms around myself. I lower my head and gently rock back and forth. I cry for Dallas, and myself, and our unborn baby that'll never see this world because I can't stand the thought of raising it without him.
I begin to lose track of time and I stay until I can't cry anymore. All my tears had been shed. Now, I just feel weak and tired.
I figure I've been gone a while because the sky is growing darker, even with the stormy clouds above. I've worried the gang long enough so it's time to head to the Curtis's.
"Where the hell have you been?" Darry says when I walk in the door.
"Are you all right?" Officer Reilly asks concerned.
"Let's see, which question do you want me to answer first?" They all look at me apprehensive and quiet, waiting for an answer. Even the kids. "Fine, I was at the park having a nice conversation with God and he decided to rain on my parade. And for the second question, what the hell do you think?"
They all stand there, shocked at my outburst. I don't usually do that so of course they're surprised.
"Hey, Lex, why don't we go get you some dry clothes," Soda says, taking my arm.
"Don't call me that!" I say and shrug him off. They're all giving Soda stunned looks. They know that's what Dallas called me. Dallas and no one else. They just can't believe he said it. Hell, I can't even believe he said it.
I look around at them and stalk off to Darry's room to grab some of his clothes that are too small for him and that he just keeps around for me. I change out of my wet clothes and into sweatpants and a sweatshirt. I'm throwing my hair up into a ponytail when I hear a knock on the door.
"It's open."
The door slowly opens and Darry walks in. He closes the door behind him. "Steve and Two-Bit left. Soda and Pony are in their room. Sarah and Jimmy wanted me to tell you not to be afraid to pop in unexpected."
"Thanks." I pause. "I'm sorry for the way I behaved in there. It was uncalled for."
"It's okay. We know what you're going through."
Tears start falling from my eyes. "That's exactly why I shouldn't have acted like that. Y'all are hurting too."
Darry hears my tears as well as sees them. He comes over to me and takes my face in his hands, brushing away my tears with his thumbs. "You're hurting differently than us though. Your love for him separates our pain from yours. You can't help acting the way you are."
I look down and try to keep more tears from falling. I can't help it though. "I just miss him so much."
"Aww, Alex." He pulls me against him and holds my head to his chest.
"Why'd he do it, Darry? He knew he had me. He knew I loved him."
"Shh. He wasn't thinking. You know how he was."
"But why couldn't he be thinking just this once? I need him here with me."
"I know, baby. I know."
He leads me over to the bed and sits us down. I curl up against him and cry into his chest with his arms around me.
I don't really know what is said at funerals, nor do I know much about religion, so forgive me if anything in this chapter isn't exactly correct. I hope you liked it. Review please and let me know.
