"LESTER STREET!" I see the million year old, beat up sign and do a little victory dance in my seat. Okay, focus! I still need the house...642, Lester Street. 648, 646, 644, 642!! HAHAHAH! I found it! I found it! And it look's…uh, crappy. Actually, this whole side of town does. But, oh well, I must get over my past life style and accept my new role as a Tulsa greaser.
I grab my old backpack that always holds the most important stuff; money, birth certificate, fake ID, journals, some pictures, my baby blanket, and locket. Everything in the trunk can wait for now.
I stroll casually through the patchy grass, up to the front door and make three short knocks. It's not like me to be nervous and I'm totally not! But my heart's racing a little faster then usual and when I heard footsteps as they neared the door, I bit my lip, like I always tend to do in times like this. I silently pray to whoever will listen. Please let me stay. please be nice. please...this is the only shot I got. The door creaked open and before me stood an aging woman with wiry black hair, beaming down at me. Before I could open my mouth to say something, she was straddling me in her arms, taking the air out of me, like a little girl would do to a brand new teddy bear.
She let me go and looked back at me. I noticed her grey eyes were filling with tears and she smiled at me like I was a lost puppy. "Oh Hazel honey, it's been too long!" She hugged me again and I could see the tear fall from her eye. She led me inside and ushered me into a moth eaten armchair, and began with what you would expect your granny to say to you. "You've grown so much!" (not really) "Look how beautiful you are now!" (The nice way of saying 'holy shit! How the hell did you loose your baby fat?') And then we get the questions. Of course, there's the "How've you been?" "Are you hungry? Really dear I can whip something up for you." And then we get into "the family." Apparently, she hasn't heard the stories since we left Tulsa. Well, I can't say I wasn't expecting it. I decided she deserved to know about the split and me living with Jess now, but of course she wanted to know why I was here. My response? "Well, Jess had to go to France for two months to do some clothing work and we couldn't quite afford for me to go, what with school and all. So I thought, where oh where could I go and then I remembered...Tulsa!" I knew it was a stretch, although she ate it up and I'd have to think of what to do after my two months here, but, we'll save that for later...
After WAY too much time spent talking, she showed me my room. I wasn't expecting much, but what I got was even less then I thought. There was a fifty-cent lumpy futon on the floor and a small window that faced the back of the park, which I could tell looked like bum heaven. Then I spotted a closet that I guessed would fit maybe a third of my clothes, minus costumes and one lamp with a broken light bulb, that sat on top of a foot long bookcase, that was growing God knows what inside of it. I spotted three cobwebs on the ceiling and a trail of ants around the window. "I know it's not much," she stated, looking around, "but I think it should do." I faked a gratified smile and shook my head. It's not like I wasn't grateful; in fact, I was tempted to do a dance and buy this woman a whole new house and hug her to death; but...I'm just not used to this.
"If you need anything the bathrooms right across the hall and Keith's room is just the door to the left. Although I'm not sure how much help he'll be..." she trailed off, shaking her head. I could already tell good old "Keith" turned to be more of a disappointment to her then we all had expected.
I turned to thank her, but when I opened I opened my mouth to speak, a door slammed and in walked a guy, probably a couple years older then me, with long, rusty colored, ridiculously hilarious, side burns. He was at least a good seven inches taller then me and his outfit, completed with tight jeans, mucky shoes, and a Mickey Mouse T-shirt, made me smile slightly. His dark hair was combed back with much grease and his mischievous grey eyes gave him a look of light-hearted, trouble making fun.
He looked me up and down for a moment, and I saw his brow furrow as he thought how and why I was here, in his house, with a bag of stuff in this room and where the hell he knew me. I smiled as his gaze wandered back up into my eyes. "Heya Two-Bit! Remember me?" He still looked highly confused, so I faked disappointment and whined, "Aw, don't tell me you forgot about your old best buddy?" His eyes widened in shock and I could see the wheels turning in his head, replaying old memories.
"Ha-Hazel?" He eyed up and down again, as if disbelieving that this girl in front of him, all grown up, could've possibly ever been his old childhood bud. I've seen the stare he was giving me a million times before. It was the one that said, "holy shit! Since when did little chubby Hazel turn into a hottie?!"
It always makes me laugh. "So what now, genius? You gonna stand there all day and stare or come over here and give me a hug?" His moment of shock ended suddenly as he gave me the same toothy grin he did when we were little and cheerily crossed the room in two quick strides, only to pick me up around the waist and swing me around in his mighty strong arms, laughing the whole time. "Hazel baby, you're back!!" When I was released from the dizzy grip, I wrapped my arms around him, giving him the biggest hug of my life. "I missed you!" I squealed letting my old 6-yr-old self out again after a long wait. He laughed and grabbed my face gently, pressing his forehead to mine and grinning like a total fool. I let out another giggle and kissed his cheek…then another hug.
Mrs. Mathews coughed and I snapped my head so hard back at her, I had to rub it after, I think we both forgot she was there. She gave us a look halfway somewhere between concern, an eye roll, disapproval, and tearful affection. "Keith, hun, are you gonna help Hazel with her bags or leave the poor girl to do it herself?"
I answered before he could, with a little chuckle. "Oh, it's going to take more then just Two-Bit here to help me unload."
He grinned slyly and declared, "I think that there is a job for the gang." Then, after swiftly throwing me over his shoulder, announced, "To the gang!"
I heard his mom sigh heavily from behind us, probably thinking the classic parental line, 'when will they learn?'
I let Two-Bit carry me like this to wherever we were going only because seeing everyone stare at us was hysterical. I saw both socs and greasers, watch Two-Bit fly by with me on his shoulder, with wide, open eyes and dumb-struck faces. I guess this wasn't an everyday sight…they'll get used to it.