A/N: There's no way I can apologize enough for neglecting this story for 3 years. My only excuse, which is not one at all, is that I have been writing bit by bit, and time has flown quite quickly for me. But rest assured, I am absolutely determined to finish this, epilogue and all. So how about I start by giving you chapter 7.
Disclaimer: Sorry, I don't own The Outsiders or the characters, but I do own the ones that you've never heard of, because I made them up!
Summary: Ponyboy asks a girl to help him train for track try-outs. But as their friendship forms he'll have to witness a lot of things that he never even imagined was real. The Drama ensues.
Ages: Ponyboy, 14 Jimmie Lee, 15
Runnin' Barefoot
Chapter: 7
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Maybe I needed to get back to the basics.
I got up early the next weekend. It was cool outside and there weren't any clouds in the sky. It was perfect. It sure helped my mood a lot, too. I was going to take Darry's advice and talk to Jemima. To tell you the truth, I doubted she would listen, but I was going to try anyway. I got dressed quickly and decided to get a bowl of cereal before I left.
"Hey, wash that out before you scram today, kiddo." Darry hollered.
"Where've you been runnin' off to everyday, anyway, Ponyboy?" Steve asked. He was looking at me funny; like he was sure the next words out of my mouth were going to be a lie.
"Why're you so interested?" I answered with my mouth half-full, "As long as I'm not buggin' you and Soda, you should be just dandy." I got up and put the bowl in the sink before leaving all of them to get ready for work. The last thing I needed was Steve Randle bugging me at seven in the morning.
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I didn't bother waiting outside of the school for Jemima. I was almost an hour early, so I just jogged out to the track by myself. Besides, this early, there wouldn't be anybody out to start any trouble, at least I assumed, so I went on ahead.
It took forever to get there, it always took forever to get there, but I was surprised to see that she was there already, sitting and stretching. She looked up at me like she was surprised, unpleasantly of course.
"What you doin' here?" She asked. Her voice was still as hateful and hostile as ever.
"You're trainin' me, remember?" I smiled. I think because I knew it would aggravate her.
"You got a whole hour, boy." I could hear her getting mad already. I'd started to notice that, whenever she got mad, her accent would get thicker. Where was that accent from?
"I know;" I shrugged, "I thought we could talk." She hadn't even looked up to face me again.
"What the hell you wanna talk to me about, I ain't come here to talk." She was cutting me sharp already.
"Yeah, well like you said, we got a whole hour. So we might as well. Scoot over." I said, walking up next to her. She didn't, so I sat down beside her, and at first pretended not to notice the glare she was giving me, or the fact that she moved away from me. But it started to bug me really fast.
"Why do you hate me so much, Jemima?" She grunted and pushed herself up.
"What?"
"You hate me." I said a little louder this time, "You hate me. Why?"
"I don't hate you."
"You can't stand me." I corrected.
"I wouldn't be out here if I hated you." She grumbled, dusting off her legs. I watched her for a while and the anger melted away from me. I couldn't help but snicker.
"Well I just pray you forgive me for doin' so, Ms. Walker, but I have to disagree."
To this day I don't think she knows I heard her chuckle, but I did, and I'll never forget it. Hell, I wasn't even sure she was human until that very moment.
"You know, I may not be anything but a country old greaser kid, but I thought maybe we could be friends, Jimmie." She looked around for a while, then back at me.
"Look, boy."
"Ponyboy." She cocked an eyebrow high enough to rival ol' TwoBit.
"We both already got friends. You asked me to help you run like me, now do you still want me to coach you or not?"
"Alright, alright." I was getting annoyed, and she could tell, because she walked off and started mumbling to herself.
"Come on, you ready?" She finally asked. I sighed. I really needed a weed.
"Yeah, I guess so." I said. I pushed myself up off the ground and yawned. I think it was only then that I realized the future consequences for getting out there so early. When my eyes opened again I saw her looking at me all strange. It made me fidget.
"What?"
"Why do you have all that grease in your head?" I looked at her dumb when she asked me that. I ran my hand through my head by habit, but I really didn't know what to do, or say.
" 'Cause I like it. I'm a greaser; it's how I wear it, alright?"
"I was just askin'." She said, looking as innocently as I'd ever seen her.
"Well don't." I said that a lot meaner than I wanted to, but I like my hair. It took a long time to get it how I wanted, and I took what she said in offense.
"Alright. Well, since you here and all," She stabbed, "You wouldn't mind if I gave you a piece of friendly advice, would ya." I shrugged.
"Go ahead." She looked at me for a while, up and down. Naturally my back straightened, and I lifted my head higher.
"Gimme them shoes." I looked down and back up at her.
"What?"
"Take off your shoes, I said!" She yelled. "Come on, I ain't got all day!" I rolled my eyes and took them off, and my stocking feet so they wouldn't get dirty, and handed them to her.
"Hey!" I yelled after she snatched them from me and threw them into the woods, "What'd you do that for?"
"Look at your feet." She spat, "I ain't never seen a man-child that had prettier feet than me." I looked down at them. I wouldn't have called them pretty. My mom never liked any of us to play without our shoes on, and it was just a rule we kept to when she and dad died. So they were pale, and they definitely weren't as rough and calloused as hers, but I'd never thought they were pretty. And I felt like she was calling me a pansy.
"Can I have my shoes back?" I asked.
"You can have 'em when I give 'em to you." She dismissed me, turning away and starting off.
"When will that be?" She stopped in mid-step and turned slowly to face me.
"When you learn how to run." Glory, that felt like a gut punch if anything ever did.
"I know how to run." She laughed, which bothered me even more. I did know how to run. I was a good runner. I just needed help is all.
"Then get 'em and go home." I just stood there and sighed. I was done trying to talk to her. So much for that, thanks Darry. I could only take so many insults before I really got steamed. "Good. Now make a lap."
I shot off without a word. That was the hardest I'd ever run until then. I'm not completely sure why I pushed so hard, but I think it was partly because I wanted to show Jimmie that I wasn't a joke, and partly because I knew if I didn't start doing better now, then I just probably wasn't going to get better. Anyway, what I do know for sure is that once I got around the bend I stepped on a rock, and I immediately knew why we never played outside without shoes. It felt like someone took a hammer and nail to the middle of my foot. But I can honestly say that I ignored that, until my other foot found a piece of glass to land on. I hollered and collapsed, and believe me we when I tell you I've never cussed like that in my life. If I had been in my right mind, I would have watched my language, but I wasn't. I cursed until I was blue in the face. There was glass in my foot and blood everywhere else. And the other foot was already swelling from landing on the blasted boulder. I pulled the glass out and threw it, cursing it until it landed far off in the trees.
"Get up." I didn't even noticed Jimmie standing over me.
"What?"
"Get up, you ain't finished." I looked at her, wide eyed even against the bright sun.
"You're really crazy." I said, pushing myself off the ground. "You are." I almost lost my balance trying to keep off of my cut foot.
"I told you to finish this lap; you done already messed up my count hoppin' there like a frog!"
"No. I'm going home. I've had enough of you. I can train by myself. And not have to be insulted and bleed to death either." I mumbled the last part to myself. And once again, I hobbled away from Jimmie Lee Walker.
Behind me, I didn't see the horror that struck her when she saw the red pool that became a trail behind me.
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I must have been madder than I thought. I still don't know how I made it all the way back to my front porch before realizing that I was still barefoot, but it happened, and I almost didn't care. But I wasn't entirely out of my right mind. I knew to shower and bandage my foot and clean the stains out of the carpet before Darry came home. Before I even knew it, I was spilling my guts out to Johnny about everything that happened. I couldn't tell Darry without telling him everything. He'd have my head if he found out where I'd been going. But Johnny could keep his mouth shut without laughing at me like Two-Bit.
I still didn't tell him everything. And instead of admitting to myself that I was afraid of how my buddies would react to my asking someone like her to help me, I convinced myself that smaller details didn't matter.
"So, what'd you do?" he asked. We were on our way to the DX station to see Soda and get a few Pepsi bottles.
"I left!" I kicked a rock on the ground with my wounded foot while we walked. I never particularly cared for them before, but I hated them bitterly now. "I swear Johnnycakes, I've never been so mad in my life."
"Yeah, I can see that." We were both quiet for a while after that. But our footsteps and the sounds of cars was enough to get us there.
--
They met us outside and I laughed. They hardly ever worked for two guys who loved their jobs.
Steve gave me the same look he'd given me that morning and I glared right back at him. I might've kept my hatred for Steve silent, but I sure wasn't scared of him.
"So what's your kid brother been up to, Sodapop?" He asked, eyeing me the whole time, "He doesn't tag along as much as he used to." I balled my hands into fists and started turning red, I was so mad.
"He's been conditioning for track," Soda answered before he slung his arm over my shoulder, "Ain't ya, Pony?" Johnny was looked at me funny. His eyebrows were together and his big black eyes were narrowed.
"Really? Where, at the school?" Why were you trying to hide that for, Pony?"
Soda looked at Steve, then back at me. I could've strangled Steve to death right then and there.
"Come on, Ponyboy, Dally's sure to find trouble if we don't hurry up and meet him at your house." After I strangled Steve, I could've kissed Johnny for saving me. Not really. That's figurative.
"Oh, right. See y'all later." I mumbled before we left. We couldn't have gotten out of there fast enough.
--
"Well?" I looked up at Johnny. We'd got just gotten back to my house, where Dally wasn't waiting for us.
"What?" Johnny sat on the floor and opened his Pepsi bottle.
"You might've gotten out of explainin' yourself to Steve and Soda, but not me," he grinned, "How come you didn't want 'em knowin'?" I sighed. No one knew the whole situation except for me and Two-Bit. But I thought a while. I had already told Johnny part of what was going on, and there wasn't any reason why I couldn't trust him.
"Anybody home?" Coincidentally, Dally Winston came through the door smiling, "Hey Johnny. Pony, where're your big brothers?" He went into the kitchen and I didn't answer him.
"Hey, Dallas." Johnny said, "Well, Pon?" I sighed.
"I haven't been at the school track; I've been going over town."
"You've been training with a soc?" I shook my head.
"No, the other over town. The girl that's been helping me… she's not white, she's from across town." I tried to say it the best way I could without saying it. Johnny didn't say anything for a while, but he finally looked back at me.
"She's black?" he asked. I started fiddling with my fingers.
"Yeah, she's black."
"I think the politically correct term is 'colored', you two. Move over, Pony." Dally said, carrying a sandwich in his bare hand.
"So what's the problem?" Johnny asked.
"Darry. He'd kill me if he found out I was going to the country by myself."
"Hell, I don't see why. Greasers and coloreds got the most in common out of everyone if you ask me, everyone hates us and we handle our own." I couldn't believe what I was hearing out of Johnny Cade's mouth. He looked me square in the eye. "You ain't anymore scared of them then they are of us."
"Who said I was scared?"
"You're scared of somethin'." He said, "You always play with your hands when you're scared and don't have a cigarette." I jammed my hands into my pockets and Johnny exhaled. "Don't tell him if you don't want to, but I think you're getting worked up over nothin'. I mean you've already talked to Darry about it before and the girl did everything you wanted, just cool it."
I started thinking to myself. What was Johnny talking about? We weren't anything alike, me and Jimmie, I'd found that out a while ago. And she hadn't done anything I'd wanted. She insulted me and chased me off! And there's no way Darry would understand, he'd skin me alive if he found out, even if he was over fifty when he did.
"Besides Darry doesn't care that we're buddies," Johnny said, "And I ain't white." He smiled and I did too. I'd never realized it before, but he wasn't. There was no way Johnny, black eyed, black haired, dark skinned, Johnny Cade, was white.
"What are you, Johnny?"
"Hell," He laughed, "I don't know."
I laughed with him, but I was in my head. What Johnny said still didn't make any sense to me, but he seemed real sure of himself.
I was real sure of something, too. I'd need to go back for my shoes.
TBC Very Soon.
