Disclaimers: SE Hinton owns The Outsiders. Cursing, mature subject matter below.
Another chapter up and running. Please read and review.
*
Sarah gives them an address and description without hesitation and helps them load Ponyboy's junk into the back of Steve's truck. Not many more words are spoken; Sarah stung and Steve distrustful. She's never had anyone call her out like that. The fierceness of Ponyboy's friends is a bit unsettling.
Still, Steve shakes her hand goodbye so she figures that's worth something.
Sarah watches them go, feeling guilty and victorious all at the same time. She hopes they do her (and Ponyboy) a favor and kick the asshole's teeth in.
*
After asking around at one of the frat houses, they find Ponyboy's pill-dropper at a bar on campus, sitting at a poker table, placing a two dollar bet. Right off the bat, Steve can tell he's bluffing. The eye twitch is the tell.
Claiming a table in a darkened corner, Steve and Two-Bit huddle. They're ready to bust some ass but know they have to play it smart. They're strangers in town, at a university. Breaking some college kid's bones won't get them on the cops' good side. Although the bar is decently deserted so they may not have to worry too much.
It's about two in the afternoon and judging by the way the guy wears his five o'clock shadow Steve would bet he's the kind who gets his kicks from stuffing powder up his nose and jerking off to Playboy in his spare time.
Two-Bit looks at the paper Sarah's given them and then balls it up. "Dan Pinkleton." Two-Bit snorts. "Even his name sounds like an asshole."
Steve's eyes narrow, watching Dan Pinkleton scoop up the pot of cash. Steve cracks his knuckles. "I wish Soda were here."
"Shit." Two-Bit raises a brow. "I ain't so sure I want to spend the night in jail." Steve laughs at that but nods.
Knowing they need a plan, Steve leans in closer, "Let's wait until he leaves. That way we lay low. We'll get him in the alley—"
The poker table suddenly clears of players, except for Dan, and Two-Bit stands up. "Let's win some money." He pumps his fist.
"Two-Bit," Steve hisses, trying to grab his friend's shirt.
"Relax, Stevie. If we're gonna beat his ass, may as well take his money too."
After watching in annoyance as Two-Bit makes introductions and shakes hands with Dan, Steve smears his face in his palms and then goes to join them, hoping Two-Bit plays poker better than he listens to instructions.
*
"Oh hells bells," Two-Bit says, laying his cards down. He's got a flush beating Dan's two pair. "Looks like I win. Again."
Dan Pinkleton smiles uneasily. He's already lost about 20 bucks and that's bad for business. He doesn't like to lose.
Steve looks on, silently praising Two-Bit's stealthy poker hustling skills. Until a minute ago, Steve didn't even know he had the rules down pat. In fact, Steve's surprised Two-Bit hasn't tried to cheat him or Sodapop by now.
Two-Bit's card-free hands are now holding a beer and a smoke. He takes a long slurp and ashes his smoke in the ashtray. Dan sits staring at Two-Bit.
"You got a problem?" Steve asks.
Dan, an ugly ape-faced guy, scowls. "Just wondering how you're getting so lucky when about an hour ago you were so shitty."
Steve shrugs, stamping out his cigarette in the ashtray. "Not luck."
"Pure skill," Two-Bit drawls. "My little sister learned me on Go Fish and 52 Card Pick-Up…and from then on I was a champ."
"Oh bullshit," Dan snaps. Steve glances sharply at Dan, willing him to start something in the bar. "Know what I think? I think you two assholes need to work on your story. Because from what I see youse hustling from a mile away."
"Why don't you work on your bluffing skills and let us worry about taking your money." Steve leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. Two-Bit reaches over to scrape up the dollar bills.
The knife's a surprise but the guy's poor attitude isn't. He stabs the crumpled dollar bills, narrowly missing Two-Bit's hand. The knife sticks up and out of the table.
Two-Bit draws his hand back. "Surly bar you hang out at ain't it Danny boy?"
"Keep your money," Steve says. He glances at Two-Bit. "Well, I reckon he started it."
"I reckon so," Two-Bit replies. That electric energy he usually gets right before a rumble begins pumping through Two-Bit's veins.
Steve palms the ashtray, dumping the remnants of day-old cigarette butts and ash in Dan's beer. "Since you like dumping shit in beer, here you go. Drink up."
Dan's quick but Two-Bit's quicker, grabbing up the knife before Dan can get at it. "Now, now," Two-Bit says, waving blade like a fan. "Let's all play fair, kids."
Dan scowls at Steve. "What the hell are you two talking about?"
"What? Don't remember dropping some pills into a kid's drink? Nearly killing him?"
And Dan can't remember. Because truth is, he does it a lot. It's fun. He doesn't stick around to see the end result but the initial trip is a ball. Dan smiles at the memory. Steve reaches out and clocks the guy on the side of the head.
"You think it's fuckin funny?"
"Ow! Shit, man. It's just a joke. No harm, no foul, am I right?"
"Buddy boy, you've never been more wrong in your entire life," Two-Bit says, his voice flat. "Now drink that goddamned beer."
Dan's eyes move between Steve and Two-Bit, wondering whether they're serious. Steve's jaw tightens. "You have about ten seconds to drink that before I piss in it. And then you'll really be out of luck."
Deciding Steve's really serious, and that cigarette ash will taste a whole lot better than piss, Dan wraps a hand around the cold beer mug, swallowing thickly. He raises it to his lips and takes a long gulp, choking and coughing when he finally finishes. Dan wipes his mouth, looking miserable.
Steve scoots back. "Let's go," he tells Dan, roughly propelling him out of the chair. Steve's ready to do this; his muscles tight and his anger roaring.
"But—but I drank the beer."
Two-Bit stands as well, scooping up the cash. "That was just foreplay."
"Get the fuck outside," Steve says, walking Dan to the backdoor.
Two-Bit grabs a pool stick, ignoring the curious stares of the few bar patrons. "I'll bring this right back," he calls out to the bartender.
*
The truck hits the road, swiftly sailing down the white, snow-coated freeway. They're getting the hell out of dodge; Two-Bit's driving, both hands gripping the steering wheel. His knuckles are cut up, lower lip busted but he's smiling.
"Well, let no one say I didn't learn anything at college."
Steve rubs his throbbing cheek. "That spineless piece of shit got what he had coming to him."
"Hopefully, we showed him the light."
"Shit man," Steve laughs. "It's gonna be hard for Dan to see the light with two black eyes."
"You know, I do feel pretty bad though." Two-Bit slows on the gas as they round a corner. "I lied to that bartender about bringing back the pool stick."
*
They're about 30 miles from Tulsa when Steve's truck calls it quits. They pull into a deserted looking gas station in a small town. While Steve checks out the truck, Two-Bit darts inside to pay for gas and stock up on candy.
"Shit," Steve swears, popping the hood, wrinkling his nose at the smell of burning rubber. After inspecting the insides with a critical eye, Steve quickly finds the problem.
"What's the trouble, Stevie?" Two-Bit asks, bounding back, arms full of candy.
Steve sighs. "We got a busted alternator belt and we're in the middle of BFE." He jerks a thumb in the direction of the dilapidated 7-Eleven. "Sure as shit they can't help us. They probably don't even know which end is up."
"Let's call Superman," Two-Bit suggests, taking a bite of a Slim Jim.
Steve wipes his greasy hands on his jeans. "Yeah, let's call Superman."
*
"Darry ain't here," Ponyboy says. "Soda either." He frowns as Steve swears on the other end of the line. "Alice took Darry to her folks and Soda and Tim went to the track."
"Figures the moment we leave they go out and get a life," Steve mutters to Two-Bit. "Listen kid," he says, going back to Ponyboy. "We need you to come get us. My truck died and we ain't got a way to get back."
Steve doesn't want to involve Ponyboy any more than he can but he's not willing to sit around freezing his ass off. Darry's favor's long since run out when it comes to the weather.
"No problem," Pony says, scrawling down the directions. He hangs up and grabs Darry's keys.
*
Through the falling snow, Ponyboy squints at the two figures standing in the snow. Steve's wearing his perpetual scowl and Two-Bit's flipping through a comic book. Pony slows to a stop and hops out.
"What're you two doing out here?"
Two-Bit greets him with a wide grin. "You made good time, kiddo. You got a lead foot or something?"
"We're doing your brother a favor," Steve says, walking around to the back of his truck. "You want to help me out, Two-Bit? We can't leave all this shit here."
After sheepish glance at Ponyboy, Two-Bit joins Steve and they begin transferring boxes of Ponyboy's stuff to the bed of Darry's truck.
There's a moment of silence as Ponyboy recognizes his things. And then he goes to them, grabbing up one of his boxes and tossing it into the other truck. Something rattles inside, sounding like glass breaking. The sound is soothing so he does this two more times, relishing each shatter as Two-Bit winces.
When they're done, the last item tossed the pool stick, Steve holds out a hand. "I'm driving."
*
It's a tight squeeze in the small backseat. Ponyboy resists the urge to glance back at his belongings. He keeps thinking they're going to burn a hole in the bed of the truck. When he realized why Two-Bit and Steve were halfway between Tulsa and Oklahoma City, it had taken all of Ponyboy's self-control to push campus as far away from his mind as possible.
"So, uh," Pony keeps his voice light. "Where was my stuff?"
"Sarah was keeping it for you," Two-Bit says.
"Yeah, she's a real joy." Steve rolls his eyes. "Bigger pain in my ass than you, kid."
Pony snorts. "Right. I'm sure you turned on the ol' Steve Randle charm." The truck hits a patch of ice, swerving all over the road. Steve tightens his hands around the steering wheel.
"It's coming down pretty bad out there." Ponyboy's hand darts out to grip the dash. "Don't bust the truck, man. Darry'll kill me."
Two-Bit tosses his cigarette out the window. "You want to control your ride, Stevie?"
Steve grits his teeth, wanting everyone to shut the hell up, so he can get them and Darry's truck home in one piece. "You want me to pull over and you can walk back?"
The truck slips again and Steve can feel the kid leaning forward in the back seat to peer at the snow coming down. It's making Steve nervous. "Pony, you got your seatbelt on?" he asks, not wanting the kid to slam through the windshield if the truck finds itself in the ditch.
Pony ignores him. "How'd you bust your face up?" He has a vague idea but wants to hear it from them.
"Would you believe we ran into some old friends?" Two-Bit pulls out Pony's wallet and hands it to the kid. "And looky what we found."
"Oh, you didn't."
"We did."
Ponyboy frowns, his fuzzy brain pulling strings together. The choking sensation threatens to overwhelm but then, very carefully, he asks, "What was his name?" He doesn't know why a name will help him but for some reason he has to know.
Two-Bit flinches. "Pony…"
"Dan Pinkleton," Steve says. He watches Ponyboy in the rearview mirror.
"Did you get him?" Ponyboy asks, meeting Steve's eyes.
"Yeah, we got him. Beat the ever-loving shit out of him."
Ponyboy doesn't like to fight. But he will allow himself this. Because it's comforting. He doesn't know what to do and they did.
"Good. I'm glad."
"Aw," Two-Bit reaches back, trying to ruffle Ponyboy's hair. "We got the seal of approval."
"Sure thing, Pony," Steve says. "Now sit back and put your fucking seatbelt on."
*
Pardon typos. Please review.
