Disclaimer: I don't own the Outsiders.
June 28, 1992
Dallas is in the bathroom down the hall. There's a master bath in their bedroom, but he can't be in there right now, so he's in the one down the hall, and he's staring blankly at his reflection in the mirror. A look inside his head would show how he's stressing about how he's gonna tell everybody she's gone, especially when he can barely process it himself. Then he thinks of something else.
"No promises" was always her thing to say, sneaking it into the conversation when she agreed to something she didn't like.
He can picture her saying it now, because she told him a lie last night. And before that, she had told him a terrible thing.
"I hope you're asleep when it happens."
"Huh?" he was already drifting off.
"When I die, I hope you're asleep."
He sat up a bit. "Why the hell would you wish something like that?"
"Because I want you here, with me, but I don't want you to see it happen. You've seen too many people die in your life."
"Well wish not fucking granted, Hope," he hissed, rubbing furiously at his eyes. "Because I'm wide awake now."
She had scoffed at him. "Relax. I'm not planning on dying tonight."
Despite the scowl on his tired face, he was relaxed by her words, but he still insensitively said, "Good, and for the record, I've been watching you die slowly for a while now."
She giggled at his blunt words like they were sharing dirty secrets and not talking about death. Then she sobered. "I know, but it's not the same as watching the breath leave somebody."
He conceded on that point. "Fine, but it's still not happening. I'm gonna be there for you, awake and alert. You're not dying tonight." He swallowed thickly. "Right?"
"Of course not. Goodnight, Dallas." Then she murmured something he couldn't quite catch.
Now he realizes what she had said was, "No promises," and he can picture her impish grin, a little sad this time. He's so pissed off at her, he can't even speak, and that's enough of an energy boost to get him to momentarily pull himself together. As he turns to go, however, his foot hits something. For whatever reason, there's a jar of pennies on the bathroom floor, and the scattered coins take him once again to that November 4th.
Patty, the waitress, is patient with Dallas as he counts out in pennies the exact change for the meal. She seems used to people being meticulous. He's not, at least, he's not used to being so obvious about it, and he wouldn't be so careful if he didn't have to be.
"There any jobs around here?" he asks, not even hoping there are but not finding the harm in inquiring.
She smiles. "Well, Lulu was looking for a permanent repair guy at her hotel. In her words, 'one I can nickel and dime with the costs of room and board so I don't get conned out of an arm and a leg.'"
He's too busy thinking to smile at her joke. He can do repair work. It was a brief but educational job he held just on the Texas/Oklahoma border. The job is not a favorite of his, and he's not keen on working at the same place Miss. Chatterbox said she was employed, but he doesn't have a lot of options spread before him.
"Where is this hotel?"
"Like Hope said, it's just across the street and down a ways, to the right. The place is named after Lulu, so it's easy enough to find."
He nods. "Thanks."
"No problem."
Patty is right about it being easy to find. It's a nice place, if you like old-fashioned looking styles. The porch is the length of the first floor, just about littered in rocking chairs, and it's covered by the balcony of the second floor. It's just the sort of cutesy place he would never be caught dead in, much less work in, but things change.
"What are you doing here?" asks the girl, Hope, from behind the counter.
"Looking for a job."
"Is that so?" asks the woman standing next to her.
The woman is holding an extremely overweight, black and white cat in her thin yet muscled arms. She looks to be about seventy, but it's hard to tell for sure.
"Are you Lulu?" Dallas asks.
"I am. You're Dallas Winston, the dangerous drifter. Hope told me all about you."
Dallas curses himself for ever saying a word to the little shit. He suddenly remembers why he hates kids. They're all nosy brats who ruin things, and they're useless too, always needing defending and protecting and whatnot.
"That so?" he says guardedly
Lulu grins then. "Oh yes, she said you were nice for all you claimed to be dangerous. What do you say, Hope, is he qualified to work here?"
Hope stops what she's doing, which is petting the huge cat between the ears. "If he can fix the leaky faucet in the office restroom, then sure. Oh, and one more thing." She gets very serious and looks Dallas straight in the eye. "Tuxedo won't be a problem, will he?"
As far as names go, Tuxedo isn't the strangest he's heard, but it throws him for a loop all the same "Who?"
Lulu snickers and jostles the cat. "She's talking about this old tomcat, who refuses to die by the way."
"He thinks life is precious," Hope defends him. "Even if he does have nine."
"I swear, child," Lulu says, rolling her eyes, "some days you're a very educated, articulate young lady, and others you're a nonsensical idiot."
Hope shrugs. "I live to be complex."
"Idiots aren't complex, they're just too dumb to make any sense."
"Yes, but part-time idiots are a different story."
If he wasn't so tired, he might find her amusing, but he is, so he does. All she does is remind him of Two-bit and Ponyboy, like a whimsical cross of their personalities. Dally sees Lulu is amused, more so than she lets on, but she's Hope's boss, so Dallas figures she can only let her guard down every now and then.
"Where is this faucet?" he asks, interrupting his own thoughts.
Lulu lets Tuxedo go. "Right there."
It's directly across the front desk. The restroom is a small space, and Dallas will need to work alone. He tells Lulu so.
"Fine," she says. "I'm assuming you'll be needing tools?"
"Yeah."
Lulu grimaces. "Don't say yeah. It's an uneducated response in the affirmative generated by lazy people to replace a good old fashion 'yes'. You could even say 'yes ma'am', if you're so inclined. Just don't say the other 'y' word."
He could tell her off, but he's not in the mood to do so, and he needs this job. "Yes, ma'am."
Lulu is satisfied and leaves Dally to fetch him his tools as he inspects the sink. Meanwhile, he wonders how it is he's being so docile lately. He's even being polite now. His best friend just died a while ago, and he's remembering his fucking manners. What the hell is wrong with him? As he asks these questions though, he's still too tired to be encased in his usual shell of fury. He wonders if he'll ever finally revert back to his old self.
It's Hope who brings him his tools. "Here you are. Lulu said you'd need these, but she got tied up with a few new guests."
Dallas nods. "Okay."
Hope also has a stool, and from it she watches him as he works. It should be uncomfortable, but he really doesn't care what she does. She seems to just be content to be silent.
"You never answered my first question," she says suddenly. "You know, about where you're from?"
He guesses the quiet doesn't keep her content for long. "Oh?"
"Yes, you only admitted in a round about way to being a drifter and told me what your name is."
"That so?"
She scoots her stool closer to the doorway. "Yes sir, so I'll ask it again, and then you can ask me a question, and we'll do the same tomorrow. Sound good?"
"It sounds fucking pointless is what," he says without any real bite, although he is being honest, because it sounds like a dumb, boring yet invasive game.
Hope giggles a bit. "Careful Lulu doesn't hear you swear. She'll wash your mouth out with soap."
That makes Dallas snort. "I wouldn't let her."
"Well, it's your funeral, because no matter how much she looks like a sweet old lady, you better believe she has the strength of ten men. She'd get you one way or another."
"Like hell."
Hope laughs again, harder this time. "Stop, you're getting off topic. I have a question to ask. Where are you from?"
"Tulsa" he answers quickly, because he doesn't want to think too long about where he's from, although he remembers too late he could've just told her to scram. "We're not really playing this tomorrow, are we?"
"I make no promises," she warns him. "Now, ask me a real question."
He sighs and pulls something from his pocket. "Wanna see a switchblade?"
He's hoping it scares her, but all it does is remind him that Two-bit gave him that blade, which makes it one of his last connections to his old life, and all Hope does is grin at him in a way he doesn't understand. "No, but thanks for offering. I think we'll be great friends, Dallas Winston."
By the way, there really is a place called the Fort Davis Drug Store Hotel and Restaurant. Also, Lulu's Hotel is based off of a real hotel in Ft. Davis called Hotel Limpia, and when my mom stayed there once, she said there was a cat named Tuxedo. Just thought I'd include him.
