Lets not forget the disclaimer, I do not own any of The Outsiders! All the rights go to S.E. Hinton!
I only own Miranda, Rosemary, Jude, James, Mike and Max!
The Song Rosemary's Granddaughter belongs to Jessica Andrews and her record label and all that! Anything to add boys?
Two-bit: yeah you all should definitely read this story!
Me: See! Even more reason to read this!
Miranda POV
It's hard to say when I really considered the fact that my life could've ended. Sure I've been on the chopping block a few times, mostly working on getting Jack out of tight spots…but that Friday night…nothing seemed as surreal as that. It's a week later and I still can't think of it as happening to me. Rather it was a movie. That cold metal placed in my hands, the rain pouring down in sheets so thick that I was soaked just seconds after leaving the house. None of my senses by fear seemed to be working, and after that, just numbness; though that could have been attributed to the fact that I had gotten pneumonia. I'd been sick before with mono, so pneumonia wasn't that different. I still had a few traces. Fatigue mostly.
Mom and dad had been so scared and sobbing because they thought they had children that were out dealing drugs, slumming around. I'm sure they thought I would be telling them any minute how I was pregnant with Hank Anderson's kid. Max had tried to tell them the story of what had really happened, but they wouldn't listen to him. They'd wanted to send him down to Tulsa with us, but he had walked out of that small apartment and never looked back. So they packed up James, Jude, Mike and myself and dropped us off at the bus station. And just like that, we left New York City, headed straight for Tulsa Oklahoma, to live with our grandmother. She was my dad's mom, and because of the massive distance between us, the last time I'd ever seen her was when I was six.
I don't remember much about her, but before Max left, he told me all he could. She was kind, caring, but wouldn't put up with any of our shit. She was firm, but gentle. And she lived with only a dog for company since grandpa had passed away. Oh, and her name. Rosemary.
I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I feel Jude stir next to me. He's only ten, and he hasn't stopped crying since we left. I know mom and dad would have taken us were they able to, but gas money was tight, our only car was how dad got to work, and neither he nor mom could miss even an hour at their jobs that they held onto by just a string. He looks just like mom, but with dad's dark brown hair. With pale skin, and wide, warm green eyes that reminded you of a meadow at sunset; I knew he was goin' to be a real looker when he got older.
He curls up closer to me, using my arm for a pillow. We share a patchwork wool blanket that's seen much better days. Mike, at fifteen years old, is in the seat next to Jude. He faces away from both of us though, unlike Jude, he's bitter and angry. At Max, our parents, and James; he knows it was partially James's fault this happened, that Max abandoned us – but he's over eighteen, technically he doesn't have to listen – and that our parents gave up on us. I crane my neck and see James spread out on three seats behind us. I frown looking at my twin's black eye. Hank gave him that, but his broken nose…that was from me.
I stare back out the window. It must be around 2 a.m. I look up at the star though. It's odd, but I've never seen them before. The New York lights keep them from ever showing. I have reservations about going to Tulsa, but not like the others. I want to meet my grandmother, get away from the drugs, fights, gang wars, murder and screams of the city. No, my reservations come from the pit of my stomach, hoping this will be different.
There are only a few things I know going into this though. My name is Miranda Auliffe. I'm seventeen years old. I have four brothers. And I am Rosemary's granddaughter, the spittin' image of my father.
Ponyboy POV
"Ponyboy! You gotta get up!" Darry yells from the kitchen. I can hear him and Sodapop both making so much noise they could wake the dead. I groan and force myself out of the warm bed. Sunlight is pouring into the room. It's almost peaceful. But just like that, it's gone when Steve and Dally come barging into the house, slamming the door as they do.
I go through the motions of getting ready and when I get into the living room Johnny is already here along with Two-bit. Soda and Steve barely say anything as they hurry to get to work.
"Mornin' Pony." Soda says as he looks for his shoes.
"You're gonna be late." I say, but it's a waste 'cause he's already gone.
Darry comes around the corner. "You know you have to go over to Mrs. Auliffe's today. She needs help moving some stuff around what with her grandkids coming today and all." I nod; Mrs. Auliffe has lived in the same house all her life, I think she was even born there. She lives just a few houses down and she was one of the scariest old women I knew. She wasn't scary cause she looked bad like most. Actually she was petite and had long silver hair. Two-bit says she probably really beautiful once. But she stood at about five foot zero, and could probably kick Dally's ass without much trouble.
She'd been out of town for six months, she got back around early spring and ever since she's gone back to being the grandma of the whole block. One time she caught Johnny sleeping in the lot when she was on her way home from the store, so she made him help her carry her groceries and when they got to her house she made him hot chocolate and let him sleep on her couch.
I wish she'd been there when my parents had passed away. She had always been close with my mother. For how scary she was when you crossed her, that exactly how nice and motherly she was too.
"Yeah Darry, don't worry. Johnny's comin' too."
"Yeah, it's the least I could do. She's always helpin' all us out." Johnny says quietly. "In fact Dally, it wouldn't kill you to help too."
"Yeah right. She's a nice old woman, but I have better things to do." He huffs as he lights a cigarette.
"And what would that be?" Darry asks, pulling on his toolbelt.
"Shoot, don't bother with him, I'll come help, she helped my mom outta a tough spot last month." Two-bit chimes in.
When we get to Mrs. Auliffe's, she's out on the front porch in her rocking chair, with a big book in her lap, and her border collie, Charlie, at her feet. As soon as he sees us he gets up and runs to greet us.
"Well if it isn't the nicest boys on my street." Mrs. Auliffe says, putting down her book and getting up. She doesn't need a cane or anything to help her walk. She says it's 'cause she's going out with a bang.
"Hello Mrs. Auliffe." Johnny says politely to her. She frowns.
"Mrs. Auliffe was my mother in law, I'm Rosemary." She throws back at him. She's told us repeatedly not to call her Mrs. Auliffe, but it feels so odd not addressing her that way. She knows we mean it respectfully. But Mrs. Auliffe was from way up north, Ohio I think. She grew up a lot differently than people down here. Her son Robert lived in New York, and her daughter Maria lived in California. It was kinda sad actually. That her kids wouldn't live near her, or come home to see her.
"Well…Rosemary, we came to help." I say, but it doesn't roll off my tongue. Darry doesn't want us to call her Rosemary because it seems too casual, but she doesn't want us to call her Mrs. Auliffe because she thinks it's boring.
"So what do you need us to do?" Two-bit asks with a smile.
"I gotta get some of these rooms put together. Get things cleared out, get stuff out of the attic." She looked off in the distance. It was easy to tell she was miles away. I really got a look at her face. She had some wrinkles around her mouth and eyes, but none on her forehead, or her cheekbones. And her face was still slender and shaped like it must have been in her youth. Her hair was silver and seemed to reflect blue. But her eyes always stood out, dark brown and almost cold looking, no matter how much she smiled, or laughed. I guess the color there was just too much for her soul.
We spent a good part of the day putting together some bed frames, clearing out her children's room, and mostly goofing off. Rosemary went out to get us lunch since she said she didn't have the time to cook. When she got back, she brought us burgers, fries, and milkshakes. Two-bit would have preferred beer, but she once yelled at him for drinking so much in a lady's presence that now he won't ever show up drunk when he knows she'll be around. Like I said, she was just a bit scary.
"How many grankids you got Rosemary?" Two-bit asks, his mouth full of fries.
"Chew your food before you speak Keith." She doesn't always call him by his real name, but when she's trying to make a point she always does.
"M'Sorry." He says, still with a full mouth. Rosemary just rolls her eyes.
"I got five. Max, he's the oldest, then the twins, Miranda and James, Mike, the middles one, and Jude, the youngest. But those are only Robert's children. Maria has four of her own. All girls though. A handful too."
"Why they comin' to live with you? Somethin' happen to their parents?" Johnny asks. Eyes wide. Everyone knows Rosemary's kids were these perfect children. So no doubt they were great parents.
"No, no, nothin' like that, I think their daddy just realized New York wasn't a place to be raisin' children. Especially where they'd been livin'. I think one of the kids got in some bad fight and got hit on real bad." She seems saddened, but also angered by the thought of it. Whether she's angry at her grandkids or the people who beat them I can't tell.
"When're they getting' here?" I finally ask.
"Late today, maybe early tomorrow." She says it with some finality that clearly means she's done with this conversation. That only makes me more curious. But I respect her privacy on this and keep my mouth shut.
Aaannnnnnndddddddddd, this lovely first chapter is finally done. So yeah...took a while
This is my first fanfic ever, so please let me know what you think and please don't tear me down.
I really hope you guys will like this. I would love to hear what you think and I hope you guys like it.
Please review and I will continue this story.