Idea for this chapter inspired by Aerosmith's song "Janie's Got a Gun".
Janie was hiding in the basement. Ma and Pa were fighting again. They fought before, but now that Johnny was gone they had one less person to take their anger out on. They usually couldn't find her down here, so they would go at it for hours.
When Johnny was alive, he would always let them beat him before he would let them find her. Janie told him she could take it, but he wouldn't listen. He told her to always stay out of sight, and maybe they would forget her. They both knew it wouldn't happen, but it was the only hope they had.
Janie hadn't been outside in seven years. She was thirteen now, she must have been about six last time.
It was like being stuck in a birdcage. Light could seep in, but she couldn't go out. The only food she got was what someone put in. Anyone could poke at her or shake the cage. And the door was always locked.
She wished they would just have paid the phone bill once more. Johnny helped her memorize the number to reach his friends. The Curtis boys, or something like that. But their line didn't work anymore, and she had no way to get to a payphone, let alone afford the cost of the call.
There was a loud bang upstairs. The yelling stopped. She could hear Pa coming down.
"Janie, where are you hiding you worthless little bitch?"
Janie froze, her heart pounded. Pa stumbled around, he was drunk again. He gave up quickly.
"I'll find you eventually. You gotta eat sometime."
She exhaled sharply after he left. A silent tear worked its way down her cheek. She needed to get out.
Janie searched the entire basement for a weapon. Buried deep in a corner was Grandaddy's old revolver. She loaded it with shaking hands and crept upstairs.
Ma was on the floor. Her hair had matted with blood, and her chest didn't move. It looked like Pa pushed her and she hit her head. One thing was clear though. Ma was dead as a doornail. Janie should have been relieved. Ma would never yell at her again. Instead, she felt cold dread. She was the only one Pa could go after now.
Something inside Janie had been coiled too tightly for too long. Seeing Ma dead gave the final twist needed to make her snap.
Pa made it so easy. He fell asleep on the couch with his back to the basement door. His head was on the armrest.
Janie lifted the revolver and put it to his temple. Pa opened his eyes, and she saw the change from confusion to horror right before she pulled the trigger.
The shot was the loudest noise she had ever heard, and the silence after the quietest. The recoil had made her drop the gun. Pa's blood stained her clothes and some got in her hair and on her face.
She worked on mental autopilot. Her dirty black hair gathered sweat as she retrieved the gun and dragged Pa to the car.
She could hear sirens in the distance. It was a common sound in the neighborhood, but Janie was spooked. She shoved Pa under the seat and jammed the keys in the ignition. Johnny had always said that if she had to get away and he wasn't there that she had to go to the lot. She remembered his directions, and she floored the gas to get there.
It wasn't long before the flashing lights appeared in her rearview mirror. But she was almost there, oh God, she was almost there. She didn't care what happened after; if she made it that meant she got out.
The sirens got louder. There were three cars behind her.
Tires squealing, she turned sharply and parked. A group of boys stopped playing football to watch curiously as the police vehicles parked to prevent her from driving off again.
Janie didn't notice. She was bawling. She never would have thought she could ever feel so relieved.
She climbed out of the car, ignoring the police yelling at her to drop the gun.
A gentle breeze ran through her tangled black locks. Her eyes closed as she tipped her head back. She felt serene; the first time she ever remembered feeling at peace.
The dark eyes opened as she looked wildly at the sky.
"I made it Johnny! I made it! Pa killed Ma and I shot him! I shot him Johnny! After every time he ever hit you, he got what was coming to him! I tried to call that 555-1976 number, but the bills weren't paid. I made it to the lot though, it's just where you said it is! Oh Johnny, I wish you could be here with me. This is the first time I've been outside since that time you took me to the park. I-"
"PUT THE GUN DOWN OR WE WILL SHOOT!"
Janie turned startled eyes to the cops. All of them had guns pointed at her. She was frozen, she couldn't respond.
"PUT IT DOWN NOW!"
Her hand slipped and a bullet fired into the concrete.
There were so many loud noises. The sirens still screamed. Six guns discharged, multiple times. The boys that had played football earlier were all yelling. There was a clatter of the revolver falling, and the girl fell on the ground.
The football guys bent over her in a circle, through the narrow gap between their heads, she gazed at the sky with a shining tear running down her cheek.
"See you real soon big brother. I love you Johnny."
Two-Bit, Steve, and the Curtis brothers stared down at the girl on the pavement. It was like seeing a younger, female Johnny. They had the same black hair and eyes. Her skin sharply contrasted, closer to the porcelain than flesh. Her pink shirt and white skirt were both dirty, with violent red stains. Some of it dried, but more was fresh from seeping gun wounds. There was an ugly smear of it across her cheek. Behind them, the police opened the car door and a body tumbled out. The boys jumped, recognizing the features of Mr. Cade.
After a long silence, Darry reached out and closed her eyes.
"Rest in peace, Little Cade."
The newspapers were ablaze for weeks with the story.
They all took different narrators, but each told the heart breaking story. The story of the neglectful who mother, murdered in a fight with her husband. The story of the abusive father, who drove his daughter to desperation. The story of the son that gave his life to save children from a burning church two years ago, leaving his hard life behind. The story of the sister that had to fight her own way out because everyone forgot her. The story of the police officers that cut a young girl's life short because of their trigger happy fingers.
Newspapers get thrown away; articles forgotten. But one thing always remains. In a small cemetery, a double headstone rests under a big willow tree. Every month, a group of teenage boys visit to pay their respects.
Jonathan "Johnny" Cade Janice "Janie" Cade
March 1, 1949-June 16, 1966 November 8,1952-February 28, 1967
Both brother and sister showed the world the true meaning of bravery.
May their reunited souls rest in peace.
Sleep well, darlings.
