Disclaimer I do not own The Outsiders
Coca doodle Doo! Dallas groaned to the sound of a rooster crowing. He looked at his alarm clock. It read six forty-five A.M. He grabbed a pillow and pulled it over his head to muffle the noise but that rooster just wouldn't shut up. Oh what he wouldn't give for a shot gun.
There was a knock at the door. "Dallas it's Aunt Caroline. Breakfast will be ready in thirty minutes. You need to get ready." There was some clunking and his aunt was back down stairs.
Is she nuts? Breakfast at dawn, even old super dope doesn't do that, Dallas thought to himself. Maybe I'll just stay up here, He added to himself bitterly
The rooster crowed again. All right I'm up!
Dallas grabbed his crutches and walked over to his duffle bag. He pulled out wrinkled jeans and a t-shirt. He realized then just how cold it was. His arms had Goosebumps on them. So he pulled out a flannel shirt he had acquired from Buck and added it to the ensemble. Then he made his way down stairs.
It wasn't hard to find the kitchen. Dallas could smell the smell of bacon coming that away. So he made hobbled over toward the smell. He found his Aunt Caroline frying the bacon and cooking up pancakes. It certainly was different then chocolate cake.
"About time you got up." Dallas looked over at George who was sitting at the table. He eyed him coolly.
Caroline turned around." Good morning Dallas take a seat. The food is almost done." She turned back around.
Dallas sat down at the table. "Do you like coffee?" George asked.
Dallas stifled a yawn and shrugged. He didn't care for it one way or the other. he drank it when he wanted it and declined it when he didn't.
"What do you drink then?"
"Beer!"
"I'm afraid your aunt wouldn't much care for you drinking that, especially with it going against your probation."
Dallas growled. He needn't be reminded.
George looked at him a moment. "How about chocolate milk."
"Yeha, okay." Dallas replied. If you spend time enough at the Curtis house you would drink it quite often. Dallas didn't mind that drink what so ever, just so long as it wasn't too chocolateie.
George got up and brought two glasses of the stuff to the table. He brought another for Caroline. Just as he sat down she began to bring plates of food. Dallas hadn't seen a breakfast like this since Mrs. Curtis was alive.
He reached for a pancake with his fork. His aunt slapped his finger away. "We always say grace first."
Dallas rolled his eyes. Oh great she's one of those churchy types. Begrudgedly he closed his eyes and bowed his head as his aunt prayed.
"God is great. God is good. Let us think him for our food. By his hands we are fed. Thank you oh Lord for this daily bread. Amen."
'Amen." George replied.
"Amen." Dallas muttered.
"Eat up Dallas. you have your appointment at ten."
"It's only seven twenty."
"Yes but I have a few chores for you. Don't think I'm going to go easy on you just because you aren't one hundred percent. Now George usually takes care of the livestock and the yard. You can care for the horses. You do still like horses don't you."
Did he like horses? That was a stupid question. Horses were better then people most days. What Dallas wouldn't give to jockey for the Slash J again. "Yeha."
"Stop this yeha business Dallas. It's yes mame. Is that clear?"
"Crystal."
"Good now eat up. I have a surprise for you in the barn"
Probably some horse dung, Dallas thought, Whoopee!
Breakfast of course was great. At least his aunt was a good cook. it beat jail food that was for sure.
"Dallas do you have a coat." His aunt asked taking a bite of some eggs.
"Nope."
"Okay I'll get you one from the general store. For now you can borrow of George's."
Oh great charity just what I always wanted.
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Thirty minutes later Dallas was hobbling out to the barn behind his aunt and George, clad of course in George's woolen flannel jacket. It was freezing and snow had fallen the night before. Dallas figured George must have shoveled a bit though because the path to the barn was clear. he wouldn't have been able to navigate through the snow.
The barn was expansive to say the least. There were about thirty-five horse stalls and a large tack room. In between here was a lot of walking space.
"We board horses and I run a horse school. Only about ten of the horses are mine." Aunt Caroline explained. Dallas nodded. "Speaking of which go to stall five. Be careful though the horse is a livewire"
Out of nothing else but curiosity Dallas obeyed. He walked over to the stall to find a horse almost fidgeting. He was completely a dark chocolate brown except for a white mark shaped almost like a large shotgun shell.
Dallas's heart pounded. His chest ached. He knew this horse. It wasn't his aunt's horse at all, it was his mother's.
