A New Life

by K.B. Lukes

Due to a series of life changing events in her life, Rebecca moves with her mother and new stepfather and stepbrothers from Waco, Texas to Tulsa, Oklahoma, from upper class to lower. Her new stepbrothers become members of a gang, and she tries to fit in.

4. Chapter 4

I apologize for the delay of years to this next chapter. Thank you for your patience. My life got crazy hectic in my junior and senior years of college. Our two oldest children graduated high school, and we experienced the loss of a baby and a little girl in our lives among the deaths of other family members. Life happens. :) I have been saving this chapter for all those years, and I hope it was worth waiting for. There is a shorter fifth chapter I wrote tonight.

"Rebecca!"

Mother was yelling for me from downstairs.

"What?!"

"Take out the garbage!"

I walked to the top of the stairs and looked down where she was standing at the bottom yelling up at me. I wondered where her rule of walking to the person instead of yelling from another room in the house disappeared to.

"Taking out the garbage isn't my chore," I reminded her, "It's David's."

"David isn't here, and the garbage collection is tomorrow. Stop arguing with me and take it out!"

I sighed dramatically. My stepbrothers were gone more and more and who was stuck doing all their chores? Yep, me. I was so sick of covering for them!

I gathered up all the little wastebaskets my mother insisted every room had, from the two bathrooms, the bedrooms, living room, kitchen...where did all this Kleenex come from? Mother insisted every room had a box of Kleenex...it seemed to be the feathery light bulk of the trash of what looked like unused Kleenex...and put them together in a line like little toy soldiers to dump the contents into the larger city waste can.

I stopped after dumping the first can of little white pieces of fluff...inside the trash can was a black leather jacket. Standing on tiptoe, I reached in and pulled it out. By the size of it, it must have been David's...the little frayed spot on one of the cuffs confirmed it. Why did he throw it away? I stashed it in the bushes, thinking to ask him later as mother called for me to hurry up.

After Jack came home, Mother said they were going to be in the bedroom all night so they were not to be disturbed. I made dinner, but my stepbrothers were again absent, so I just wrapped everything up in cellophane and placed it into the ice box. My homework was done, and even though it was dark out, I wasn't tired enough to go to bed. As I contemplated what to do, I heard loud raucous laughter outside; Harry and David were home. Remembering the leather jacket stashed in the bushes, I went out the back door to retrieve it and circled around to the front. Harry and David were standing in the halo of the street lamp, finishing up their cigarettes before going inside. I had folded up the jacket with reverence to give to David, thinking it being placed in the trash had to have been a mistake, but when I got closer I saw David wearing a new jacket with a silver buckle and shiny silver zippers.

I stared dumbly at the discarded jacket in my hands.

"Oh," I said softly. "I didn't know you got a new one. I found this one in the trash..." my voice sounded weak. Internally, I cringed, hating myself for it.

"Yeah," David grinned. "That one was too small, and Dad bought me this one. Don't tell your mom, though."

"Why'd you throw it in the trash, though?" I wondered out loud, not thinking before I said anything. It was a perfectly good jacket, aside from the flaw on the cuff.

"Try it on, Becky," Harry suggested. "You're not that much smaller than David."

"I am not small!" David protested loudly, his face turning red.

"Can it, David," Harry ordered him mildly, used to his hot tempered younger brother. "Don't worry, you should hit a growth spurt soon enough. Go on, Becky."

Shyly I slipped on the sleeves while David muttered hotly, "I threw it away for a reason!"

While David glared angrily, Harry nodded with approval.

"Looks good, little sister. Stick your arms out, let's see if the sleeves are long enough."

I obeyed silently. Harry held onto his cigarette with his lips while held my wrists in his hands, carefully looking at how the cuffs covered my wrists just below my palms.

"Perfect!" was his final assessment. "Keep it; it's yours, if you want it."

"Sure!" I smiled.

David rolled his eyes.

"Great, just great," David's contempt dripped with sarcasm. "Now I have to see my old favorite jacket being worn by my kid sister? You can't make her into a Greaser, Harry, so stop encouraging her!"

David threw down his half-smoked butt and stalked into the house, slamming the door behind him. I wondered briefly if Mom would come out long enough to yell at him for it or not.

"I can't wear it if it upsets David for me to," I said softly, feeling bad. To the guys, leather jackets were a special status; they were pretty expensive to buy sometimes. I wasn't sure how Jack afforded it, but he seemed to be able to find ways to come up with such things for his sons.

"David doesn't care," Harry assured me. "He likes you, he just doesn't know how to show it. Wear the jacket; it looks good."

Harry winked at me, crushed out the end of his cigarette with his heel, and followed David into the house, the door shutting silently behind him.

I was left standing alone in the halo of the streetlight. I looked up at the lamp. At least we had one on our side of the street that actually worked. Sometimes we had the only working light in the neighborhood. The city didn't come to fix them very often.

Not really thinking about what I was doing, I walked across the street to the park. I didn't have any thoughts, really. I just needed to walk. As I walked I looked down at myself: black and white Oxfords on my feet with white bobby socks, white canvas skirt with yellow butterfly patches, yellow cotton peasant blouse, my arms covered by the sleeves of the black leather jacket, with the frayed right cuff. I put my right arm up to my nose to smell the scent of the well-worn and slightly cracked leather. It was tainted with traces of cigarette smoke and Old Spice that David wore sometimes.

Girls didn't wear their own black leather jackets, not even Greaser girls, unless it was a boyfriend's they were going steady with, which usually came with a ring worn on a necklace because a man's ring was too big for a girls' delicate finger. And I doubted that black leather Greaser jackets were ever worn with homemade skirts and blouses like mine was that I had made in Home Economics.

It was now late September, and there was a cool autumn breeze starting to develop. We had been lucky so far with a mild autumn, with some but not a lot of rain. The elderly couple next door said that last October had been the warmest they had ever known, and even though it was still tornado season, the worst ones were said to come through in May, and the last "killer tornadoes" were 3 years ago. I still dreaded hearing a wailing siren go off in the middle of the night for a tornado warning, which I could almost forget about the possibility of it if there wasn't a testing once a week at noon every week.

I thought back to the conversation I had with my grandmother, her voice coming back to my memory often as if she was deliberately haunting me, the suggestion to dress up like a boy as a way to blend in and be safe. Ridiculous idea! And yet it was hard not to wonder about it...

Why in the world was I walking around alone after dark?

I stopped and froze when I crested the little hill that divided our side of the park across the street from the other side where the gangs all seemed to hang out. Over by the jungle gym was that creepy boy again...no, the "shy kid"according to Harry...Ponyboy Curtis. And he wasn't alone this time. A small black haired boy, still bigger than me, swiveled his head my direction, his long greasy black hair falling into his eyes, which he didn't bother to push away. Ponyboy's eyes squinted as he glared in my direction, as he blew out a lot of smoke from his cigarette. I apparently interrupted something. I stood shock still while they glared at me, also not moving, as if they were daring me to say or do something.

I tried to remember what Harry had told me. I tried to smile, but they only seemed to get more tense. Okay, guys, I thought, I know where I am not wanted. I turned and bolted back for my house, and didn't stop running until I was back inside the house, locking the door behind me, and running back up the stairs, to shut the door to my room. Even when in my room with door shut, I stood there looking at the closed door while I shook. I suddenly realized that my curtains and window were opened, so I yanked the window and drapes closed, and turned on the extra lights. I yanked the jacket off and threw it towards the back of my closet, and then slammed the closet door shut. I grabbed my teddy bear I had had since I was a baby, and hugging it close to my chest, I sat on the bed up against the wall.

I told myself I was a chicken. I also told myself I didn't care.

Mother let me stay home from school the next morning, since I pleaded I had a headache. She kept the house quiet so I could rest after giving me some aspirin. I couldn't fall asleep all night, so I slept most of the day away, and only got up when I was sure school was safely out.

I took a long hot shower, and then stood in front of my closet with my body and hair wrapped up in towels. I suddenly hated every garment in my closet. Biting back tears, I yanked a bathrobe off a hanger and pulled the towel from my hair. I looked in the mirror. I tried not to cry as I realized that I didn't belong here, I didn't fit in, I was an outsider. I sat on the edge of my bed and sobbed silently.

I was startled out of my self-pity and misery when I heard the doorbell ring.

A girl's voice said my name, asking how I was? Since I wasn't at school...

Darn it! It was Janet!

I listened in horrified silence as my mother's muffled voice explained I had a headache, and then invited Janet in to come and check on me, since she had heard the shower and knew I was up.

I took the damp towel I had used for my hair and furiously tried to scrub the tear marks from my face as Janet knocked on the door, and then stepped in.

"Hey, Rebecca, it's Janet. Are you okay?"

I tried to look nonchalant.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Come on in."

She stepped in, took one look at me with a frown, and then shut the door.

"I was worried when you didn't come to school. Are you sick?"

"Headache," I confirmed, nodding slowly.

"Have you been crying?"

"No," oops, I said that too fast. And Janet was too sharp; she noticed.

"Yes, you have been," she smiled knowingly. "It's okay. Monthly curse?"

I considered it for a moment to affirm that, but then sighed and admitted, "No."

A small crease of worry touched her face, and she led me to sit on the bed.

"What then?"

I sighed again.

"I hate my wardrobe!" I blurted it. What a stupid reason to cry! I didn't blame her for laughing.

"Oh, is that all! I wondering when you would realize that Tulsa wasn't Texas. I can help. Come to my house. I have been wanting to update your look. Put on some clothes."

"I've been in bed all day. Mother won't let me go to a friend's house if I have been home sick from school," something about the gleam in Janet's eyes worried me.

She laughed lightly.

"I'll convince her. I am good at making parents do what I want them to."

"I don't know what to wear," I was trying to stall. I don't think I wanted Janet to re-create the new me.

"Let me see..." Janet's head disappeared into my closet. "Oh! Where did you get this!"

She had found the black jacket.

"It was David's."

"Does it fit?!"

"Yeah," my voice was dulled.

"Oh, you are so lucky to have such cute older brothers! They are stepbrothers, right, no relation?"

"How many times have I told you that I am not blood related, only by marriage?"

She came out of the closet with the jacket, her blue eyes rimmed with black kohl gleaming with wicked glee.

"So you and David are...?"

"Glory! No! Eww, Janet!"

"So it is a secret love affair."

I groaned and threw myself backwards on the bed.

"Fine, keep it a secret then!" she pouted and focused back on my closet.

"You're right, there is nothing appropriate in here," she said after a moment. "Stay here, I'll be right back. I am sure your mom has clothes you can borrow."

"What?! No, Janet, don't ask my mom..." but she was out of the room and on her way downstairs.

I contemplated climbing back into bed and prayed I could just die in my sleep.

"Here we are!" Janet said way too cheerily. She was holding one of my mom's mini-dresses she had started to wear. This one was a color that couldn't decide if it was red or brown. "Your mom was more than happy to let you borrow this until we can find you clothes so you can fit in better. It's Friday, so you can have dinner and sleep over at my house!"

"Janet, I have a headache. I don't think I feel up to a sleepover..."

"Pshaw. You are just making excuses. Now get dressed!"

I wanted to punch her in the face.

Instead, went to stand behind my dressing screen to put on...ick...my mom's dress. Despite it had been washed, it still had the faint scent of Emeraude perfume I associated with my mother lingering in the scratchy fabric.

"What are you doing? Don't be so modest!" Janet giggled.

"Nevermind, Janet, I don't want to do this."

"So you want to keep dressing like "happy homemaker?" Your mom has more taste than you, do you realize that? It's sad."

"This garment," I said, shaking the material at her, starting to get mad, "is maybe all of a yard of fabric! This dress is what is immodest!"

"Well, my house is located on Shepard's Turf, and I have to walk by his house, and I don't want you walking by with me in your home ec clothes! Which is why I have never invited you before. Come on, Rebecca! Pretty please? Just give me a chance? Just for one night?"

"Fine!" I conceded, "But I am wearing a sweater!"

"Wear the jacket instead!"

"No!" I yanked it out of her hands, "This stays here!"

My words were final, and I guess she knew it because she didn't protest further. I tossed it back into the dark corner of the closet, and slammed the door shut. I glared at her, daring her to say something. She wisely chose to stay silent, even though she was grinning at me.

Walking with Janet my dark and depressed mood lifted. She caught me up on the gossip at school, not that I cared or knew everyone, but her chatter helped me to take a break from my thoughts. It was a sunny day, though that cool taint of autumn was in the air, making everything smell fresh. The leaves on the trees were starting to turn colors, and brown ones already fallen blew on the streets. I was glad I had worn a sweater, a beige cable knit sweater with big wooden buttons that had long sleeves and hung down to my knees. I had my toothbrush and pajamas in an oversize style purse.

We didn't go through the park, but walked around it, and then crossed the street to cut through an alley way to Janet's house. I had never walked to her house; my mother usually had Jack drive me home from her house. I had only been there a couple of times after school when the bus dropped us off.

"I don't know why you want to hide the shape of your body," Janet was saying. "You could get the boys to look at you more than once if you wore clothes more like I do."

I just shrugged. I don't think I would want to attract more attention to myself, especially from Greaser boys.

"It's good your hair is long. Boys like long hair...but those curls need to go. First thing I am going to do is iron out your hair."

"You ain't touching my hair, Janet," I told her.

I started slightly at the words I heard myself use. If I wasn't careful, I was going to end up being tainted by the riff raff. Grandmother warned me about such things, how one bad apple can spoil the barrel. This neighborhood was starting to show me what she meant by that.

"Yes, I am!" Janet insisted. "It needs to be straighter, and I will trim it a little shorter. It is almost too long."

"You ain't touching my hair!"

"Fine," she pouted. "Can I do your make-up?"

"Make-up?! I thought I was coming over for clothes!"

"You are! But you need make-up, too! Oh, come on! It's just for one night, remember?"

I sighed. How bad could one night be? So I will let Janet have her fun, and then I will figure out how I would re-create myself for this new life.

My consent had Janet back in her cheerful mood where she actually started skipping.

I hesitated for a moment as we exited from the alleyway onto her street. The Shepard Gang was hanging out. I knew Janet lived on the same street, but every time I had gone to Janet's house they were absent so I never really gave it much thought. I also chided myself that my brother's were part of the gang, and how many times had I walked up to them to tell my brothers to go home? Why was I nervous? Maybe because I was suddenly aware of how exposed my legs were...

"Come on, chicken," Janet smiled. "They don't bite...much!"

Harry said to smile. Smile, Rebecca! Smile! Be friendly. Say hi!

Glory! Could I just go home and die now?

I smiled as best as I could, but tried to not make eye contact. Janet grabbed my hand and pulled me towards her house. Angela Shepard was lounging on her steps.

"Took you long enough, Janet," Angela's voice was tough but had a softer element to it, one I couldn't describe. "I've been waiting for hours."

"Sorry," Janet said blithely, even as I wondered why Angela would wait at all, much less "for hours."

"Angela, you know Rebecca, right?"
Angela tossed her dark hair back and looked sideways at me.

"Yeah. Harry's little sister," her smile was sort of predatory. I had never seen her so close before. I think I hated her, even though she was actually very pretty.

"She's staying the night, too! A slumber party," Janet giggled. "We get to make her up."

"Really?" Angela's eyes brightened.

"Do you have any clothes to donate to a charity case?" Janet asked with a smile, loving her new role in our friendship. "We can make her one of us!"

"Umm...I'll be right back. I think I have a few things."
And then she smiled at me. Actually smiled at me!

Great! So I was a "charity case" now? The goal: make me into a new Greaser Girl. I could feel an anger starting to boil in me so hot it felt cold, and so intense I had no way of knowing how to acknowledge or express it. I felt my face go blank of expression.

Janet, the dummy, said it in front of the guys in Shepard's Gang who were still hanging out. I knew they were laughing at me, and for the first time I didn't feel embarrassed. Where were David and Harry, anyway? Weren't they part of the gang?

"Can we go inside?" I asked Janet.

"Yeah, come on!" she said brightly, grabbing my hand and pulling me where she wanted me to go again, and she didn't notice the change in my mood. "Let's get started right away!"

I let Janet and Angela treat me like a doll. I decided as long as they didn't hurt me I would let them have their fun. This one night, and one night only. They brushed out my hair straight, but I wouldn't let them iron or cut it. They had me try on one tight and short outfit after another. They settled on a miniskirt that had been made out of cut off jean shorts with a green boys' t-shirt they had cut the neck out of and cut off the sleeves so it hung off of one shoulder showing the bra strap. They had me change out of my own brassiere into one of Angela's black ones. I felt like a harlot. I was definitely going to go to church on Sunday and pray for understanding and forgiveness. I resisted the urge to speak the Lord's Prayer out-loud; I bit my tongue.

Then they did my make up with black kohl liquid eyeliner around the eyes, adding some rouge to my cheeks, and bright pink lipstick.

They declared me "perfect!" And then took me outside to show me off the the gang still waiting around outside. Apparently news had traveled fast through the neighborhood and everyone wanted to see the "new me."

Janet had me step onto the porch and said, "Ta da!"

Everyone started laughing. For the first time I was smiling for real and laughing, too. I was realizing how ridiculous the whole thing was, and how not only was I not "one of them" and never would be, nor did I want to be.

I did as Janet and Angela directed, twirling, pouting, and being their little puppet acting upon their direction and cue. I could play the good little puppy just this once, and only this once.

A boy from the gang broke away from the crowd and asked me to dance with him, and Janet pushed me toward him so hard I fell onto his chest. He twirled me around once, and then passed me off to the guys behind him. They were actually being nice, their smiles were genuine, but there was another dangerous element that hinted they wanted and expected more from me...and soon.

But I was Harry's little sister, and I suddenly understood what that meant.

I tossed my hair back, and lifted my chin. I smiled as flirtatiously and as suggestively as I could because I saw Harry and David running towards us. My brothers had arrived. My grin widened.

David was faster than Harry and skidded up towards me.

"What the...Becky?" his shock was replaced with a grin, "Wow, Becky!"

I laughed.

Harry's reaction was different. He didn't stop in his stride, a long-legged lope more than a run, and scooped me up in his arms, taking me around the house into the shadows. He set me down gently.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, concerned.

I laughed, "Oh, Harry! This is definitely not me!"

He didn't even smile.

"No, it's not. I know you want to fit in, but..." he shook his head. "Whose idea was this? Was it yours?"

"Not mine! Dummy Janet over there convinced mom to let me sleep over, and had already planned for Angela to be there."

Harry rubbed a hand over his face.

"I should take you home."

"Don't you dare, Harrison Reed! You already showed brotherly protection by scooping me up and lecturing me. I'll get myself out of this mess, not you."

He looked at me closer. Maybe he sensed the change in me I had yet to completely identify.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! I'm stronger than I look, and there is no way I am going to let Janet and Angela get away with mocking me or making me into some trashy Greaser girl. I'll find my own way to fit in."

"Now, Becky, I don't know what you have planned, but be careful, okay?"

"Don't worry, big brother, I ain't going to damage your reputation."

"You just said "ain't," didn't you?"

"Don't look so shocked, Harry. Now stop protecting me and let me fight my own battles."

"Well, alright," his voice took on some of the old Texan drawl, "but you let me know if you need me to step in and help, okay?"

"Sure!" I smiled up at him. "You know what? I think I am really angry."

Harry smiled back.

"I don't blame ya. I just hope you ain't in over your head."

"Me, too!" and I meant it.

Harry let me go back into the yard first, but followed close behind. He announced, "Okay, everyone, shows over...no more gawking at my little sis."

Summoning as much of the snobby and arrogant air of nobility as I could, pretending I was ascending the stairs to a glamorous ball in an expensive gown fit for a princess instead of being in Greaser clothes and stepping onto disintegrating wooden steps to a porch falling apart, I went back inside Janet's house and went to the chair to retrieve my sweater. I kicked off the ridiculous heels and put back on my beige and sensible flats, and then grabbed my purse. I stuffed my mother's dress into my over-sized purse, and forced my arms through the sleeves of the sweater harder than was necessary.

Janet came in, her grin evaporating into another emotion as she watched me getting read to leave.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going home."

"No, you ain't. You are to sleep over, remember? Let me create the new you."

I slipped into my grandmother's teachings of acting the Southern Belle.

"Janet, dear. Thank you for such a lovely time," my voice was a mixture of tight anger, sarcasm, and honeyed Texan sweetness. I forced my mouth into a broad smile. "But I am afraid that the life and style of a tramp is more fitting for you than it is for me. I mean, it fits YOU sooo well, darling! I just can't pull it off as nicely as you do. I thank you for your...ahem...hospitality. I must be going now. Tata."

Janet stood there in white-faced shock as I glided around her in the doorway.

"Wait...did you just call me a "tramp?!" Janet finally burst out, unbelieving.

I exaggerated my pause as I pretended to think about it.

"Is that what I said? Hmm...I don't remember. Oh, well! Goodbye then."

I turned to leave, but I was stopped by some inhuman, wordless scream as Janet jumped on me and started pounding with her fists on my back and pulling my hair. I was shocked by her violent reaction to my insult, but I was even more taken aback by my own reaction as I managed to grab a fistful of her hair with my right hand, and then yanked her over my shoulder to get her off my back. I held onto my own hair with my left hand to keep her from yanking it out further as it was pulled out of her hands as she fell. She hit the ground hard onto her bottom, and then with a sob came at me with her long fingernails out as if to scratch my face like an alley cat. Instead, I stepped aside and punched her in the stomach. As she once again fell onto her bottom, I punched her in the face.

She didn't try to get up, but instead sobbed with her hands over her face hidden by her disheveled dark hair, mussed by the fight. She called me every dirty name I think she knew, maybe making up some new ones.

I felt sorry for her at that point, knowing that what I had said in anger hit too close to home for her, revealing what every woman fears to be, and the realization that that may be the type of woman she would ever be allowed to be. And I never could.

I silently walked out of the house, smoothing the lingering stinging hurt of my head where she had pulled my hair, feeling where she had hit me on the back, marveling at even though I had never been involved in violence, I had just won my first fight.

Outside, it seemed no one had heard our fight. The gang hung together, continuing with their harsh voices and laughter, a fog of cigarette smoke concealing their faces in the dark.

Harry stepped away for a moment, a questioning look on his face. I met his eyes, having no idea what the expression on my face was nor did I have any thought to convey to him. We just stared at each other for a moment, and whatever he saw, a small smile touched his lips, and he nodded, flicking his eyes in the direction of home, which I took to mean that I should go home now...which was exactly what I planned to do. Harry returned his focus to the gang.

I wrapped the warm sweater around myself tighter, and turned to walk into the shadows cast between the houses as I followed the shadows to the street behind Janet's house, through the next block, and then crossed the street to go through the park.