He got directions and babbled on about it, and that funny gold left the sky. It was just the ordinary white light of day.
Even though Pony's parents were dead and he was just as dirt poor as me I envied him. He was smart. He could talk to people. He was kind of shy but that was only at first. He could talk to people. Me, I couldn't say noth in'.
We were getting closer, I could see the mountain in the distance. Leave it to Dally to send us to some crazy place like this.
Walking forever, we'd been going all night. I saw that damn dead kid every time I closed my eyes. Those rings on his hands. That day in the lot, that day all four of them socs ganged up on me, all I could see was the damn sun flashing off those rings.
Pony was looking pretty tired, bags under his eyes and all. I must not look any better. I felt so tired, out of my mind tired, out of my mind scared.
The church up ahead, all old looking, the paint coming off it. Deserted. We tore the boards off the door to get in. I felt too tired to pull 'em off, the old rusty nails creaking away.
It was so dusty inside, the plaster falling right off the walls in some spots. I coughed after breathing in some of it.
Suicide had always been hanging over my head, ever since I realized my parents didn't care about me. It wasn't just them. It was this whole greaser/soc thing. I couldn't take it. I wasn't like Dal and Two-bit and Steve and Soda, they all liked fighting. It wasn't the same for them. Two-bit's father took off, Soda's old man had been so normal. Nice and all. If they had to put up with getting hit all the time at home they wouldn't like fights so much. So suicide was there, like a friend waiting for me. But I'd never come so close to it as I did in that field just now. I still don't know what stopped me.
I folded up my jean jacket for a pillow and slept, a sleep too deep for dreams, or at least I couldn't remember any.