So, I've kinda been upset about things lately, mainly writer's block for my other story "Love Without End" and I decided to post this, although I had been wanting to hold off on it until later, but it demanded otherwise in my head. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders.
If by some chance people ever remember June 28, 1992, they'll likely recall an earthquake in California. The earthquake leaves at least three dead and more than four hundred injured. A very heartbroken man in different part of the country doesn't care much when he later hears the news about California. In his mind, it's already a sad day, the saddest one yet. To him, it's known as the day yet another part of him died.
It's early in the morning when it happens. He's only just woken up, but he knows right away it's happened, because he can't hear her breathe anymore. She's nothing more than an empty body next to him now, and as the horrifying truth sinks in, he can almost hear her say it's okay to cry over her. He wishes she was still alive so he could tell her not to flatter herself, because like hell he would ever… Like hell…
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he does the very last thing he wants to and gets out of bed. There's people to inform, and the phone doesn't dial numbers by itself. He has to remind himself not to worry about leaving her. She's not going anywhere.
As he stands, he starts asking the questions. Why did she have to go before him? Why couldn't someone mourn him first for a change? It's not fair to give a man a something so good and then take her away. It's not right! Ugh, he almost lets out a laugh. Listen to him. If she was still there she'd be telling him to stop feeling sorry for himself. People expect things from him now, and he can't let them down. He needs to be stronger than ever.
He still can't help it when a sob escapes his throat. He remembers once wondering whether it'd dull the pain, if a person anticipated something like this.. Now he knows. It doesn't. Pain is pain, loss is loss, and time gone by stays gone, especially when a person wants it back the most.
"November 4, 1965," he groans into his hands. He'd claim he's not praying, but he is. "Please let me have that one day back, and leave me there to live it all over again."
Nov. 4, 1965
He's never liked silence. It's why he was always the loudest troublemaker of all the boys. It's also why he constantly stayed at Buck's, under a noisy bridge, or even jail, only using the Curtis's as a last resort. Their house is always quiet at night, always was, and he wonders how they never go insane from the lack of sound. Isn't it maddening to have nothing but their own thoughts buzzing around in their heads? It must be, but maybe they just knew something he didn't about the quiet. It doesn't matter. He won't ever see them again, and they can shove their peaceful evenings up their asses.
Lately though, he doesn't mind the quiet. That's probably because there's absolutely nothing going through his mind other than, 'time to eat,' or 'you should sleep,' and maybe 'this car might give you a ride'. Other than the occasional odd job, nothing in his world exists besides walking and breathing, one foot, then the other, in, then out.
All his fire is gone, snuffed out only minutes after running out of that hospital. If he could feel anything, he'd feel more pathetic than he ever has in his seventeen years of life. As it is, he's numb, but not that true kind of numb of blissful nothing that almost feels like a buzz or a high. No, he's stuck with the kind of numb that makes you come face to face with what the anger masks, like the sadness, the despair, the desperation, and any other negative emotion people cover up with anger.
So he walks, and one lazy, fall afternoon, he walks straight into a small ass town in the northern part of Texas. The sign he passed on the way in says it's called Fort Davis. It means absolutely nothing to him.
Two bucks in change is all he has in his pockets. He'll need to get some dough soon, preferably using legal means. He ain't afraid of jail, but he's not in his right mind to be dealing with the penal system. To get hauled in might as well be a death sentence. He wonders why he cares.
A grumbling in his stomach signals the need for food, and he stops in a place that says Fort Davis Drug Store Hotel and Restaurant. It's a quiet place. Hardly anyone's there except this little girl with mousy brown hair and a cute, blonde waitress. One month and twenty seven days ago, he would've been hitting on that waitress, making her blush with crude as hell comments, but that was one month and twenty seven days ago. Now he only nods politely as he sits down and waits for her to come over.
"What would you like, sir?" she asks sweetly but not in a flirty way. The "sir" throws him a little. He's been referred to as "grease", "hood", "boy", and even occasionally "sonny" for a while now, but never "sir".
"Water," he says. "And a burger. No fries."
"Fries aren't extra."
He nods. "Okay, I'll have them then."
She smiles kindly at him and goes to tell the order to cook in the back. The girl, the one with brown hair comes over and sits down without an invitation.
"Where are you from?" she asks.
He blinks. No one talks to him. Ever. At all. For any reason. Everywhere he's gone they know to stay clear of him, and that's without knowing for sure they have good reason to.
"Ain't you ever heard that drifters are dangerous?"
She tilts her head to the side, and damn if she don't look like a puppy. "Are you a drifter?"
"I just said I was."
She shakes her head. "No, you asked a question in which you inquired whether or not I'd ever heard about the danger of drifters. However, you never said if you were one or not."
He stares at her. What the hell? Is she being smart with him? Back in Tulsa no one would've dared. She seems to notice his confusion and she grins cheekily at him. He'll learn she does that a lot.
"Sorry if I bothered you, but our town gets a lot of visitors, and when I have the chance, I ask them where they are from."
He raises an eyebrow. "How the hell do you get a lot of visitors?"
Her grin widens. "I know, right? We don't seem like we do, but it's true. It's mainly because of the McDonald's Observatory."
"The what?"
She sips her coke. "It sounds weird, doesn't it? It's to do with looking at the stars, like a big telescope. Anyway, it brings a bunch of nerdy people out here who also drag their families along. They stay here in town and see the observatory in the following days. Another source of tourism around here is the historical sites, but it's mainly the observatory that brings people."
She talks fast, and he has to listen closely to understand what she's saying. He's still unraveling all the information when the waitress comes back with his food.
"Miss. Hyland, are you being a bother again?"
The girl rolls her eyes. "I don't know, Patty, ask Mr., uh…" She looks back at him. "What's your name?"
It's been a while since he's introduced himself to anyone. The name won't have the same meaning to these two as it did back home, and the two words, four syllables in total, that make up the damn thing feel awkward on his tongue.
"Dallas Winston."
"Right." The girl faces Patty again. "Ask Mr. Winston." She drains the last of her coke. "I gotta get to work."
"Tell Lulu hi."
The girl rolls her eyes again. "Tell her yourself. We're only across the street and down a ways."
"Yeah, but she's the competition."
"True, but you've got an edge. Lulu doesn't provide cokes."
Patty laughs and waves her away. The girl turns to go but stops before looking over her shoulder at Dallas.
"I'm Hope by the way. Hope Hyland. It was nice talking to you, Dallas Winston."
So, I know Dallas is out of character, but that's because he's still grieving. Slowly Dallas will return to being a bit of a jerk, but I hope to make him grow as a character as he tries to work through his feelings of loss. I think this will be a challenge, and I hope I meet it.
By the way, if I get anything wrong about Ft. Davis as far as facts, it's just an honest mistake, or it's me taking liberties because this is fiction and I need to make my story work, okay? All the same, I hope not to offend anybody who is from the town or knows more about it, and if I do, then I apologize. I just wanted to use the name of an actual town. Thanks.