I sat on the couch listening to Darry bang around in the kitchen and trying to sketch that car, but just like with the Stovepipe, I couldn't get that just right, either. The problem was I couldn't quite see the trunk area, which I figured made sense since that would be where the make would be. Since I couldn't remember what kind of car it was, I naturally couldn't remember just how the trunk looked. So then I tried drawing it at an angle, showing the black quarter panel. I hadn't really seen the right side of the car.

I was also thinking about the hearing as I shaded the car, wondering what the new judge would be like and whether he would keep the three of us together. I figured he would, seeing as how Mrs. Davis had said it was a good thing. Still, I was worrying over it when Tim came wandering in.

"Hey, Hemingway," he nodded at me. "Muscles in the kitchen?"

"Yep." I thought sure he'd head in there, but instead he sat down at the other end of the couch, just past my feet. "Hey, Tim," I glanced toward the kitchen. Darry had the sink going. "The other night, that car…"

He looked at me. From the expression on his face, he didn't like where I was going. "What about it?"

"Did it have a bunch of different parts on it? I mean, like somebody put it together in a junk yard?"

"Most all the cars around Ketchum look like that," he shrugged. That was true. Ketchum was lined up and down with places like Helsden, and all the bouncers, bartenders, and even the patrons drove beat up old cars. No sense putting your pride and joy out in the lot to get spit on or worse.

I realized that he wouldn't have seen the car from the left, but I showed him my sketch, anyway. "Did it look like that?"

He took my sketchbook and looked at the drawing. If I hadn't been watching his face so carefully, I might've missed the little twitch in his jaw. He lifted his eyes to my face, and they were darker and meaner than I'd seen them in a long time.

"Chopper Davis was driving the car that almost hit you. It's a Buick. This here car ain't a Buick," he said, tossing the book back.

"Ever seen a car like that?" I asked.

He just looked at me again. It took him so long to answer that I knew he had. "Once or twice. Why?"

I wondered if he already knew the answer. Seemed to me he had to, what with the way he looked at me. "That's the car those guys put Randy and me in," I replied, watching him every bit as carefully as he watched me. There! There it was again, that little twitch. "Do you know what kind it is?"

"Chevy," he answered. "210," he added, rising from the couch. He disappeared into the kitchen before I could ask him anything else.

I thought about that, wondering if he'd been straight with me. If I took that to Mahler, would it help? I wondered what Tim knew that he wasn't saying. He knew that car. He knew who owned that car. I'd bet anything on it, on that little twitch of his jaw and the way his eyes got dangerous.

I heard Darry saying something to him, but I couldn't make out their conversation. Probably telling Tim about the job on Maggie's roof, asking if he would help. I was pretty sure he would.

I was surprised when Tim left a few minutes later. I thought he'd stay for dinner, but he just told Darry he'd see him on Saturday morning and left. He glanced at me as he went by, but he didn't say a word. I wondered if he was leaving because of what he knew about that car. He looked like he wanted a fight.

Not long after Tim left, Steve shoved Soda good naturedly across the threshold, muttering something about not saving his ass next time. I figured Steve covered for him at work somehow so one girl or another wouldn't realize she wasn't the only girl in Soda's universe. That happened a lot, two girls he'd flirted with running into one another, each one thinking they were his one and only. Dumb girls deserved what they got, I figured. But then again, Soda didn't mean anyone any harm. He just loved girls, and he could find something to fall half in love with in each and every one. This one's hair, that one's smile, her laughter, the way she looked at him. Everybody had something, as far as Soda was concerned. He couldn't settle on just one. I wondered if he ever would again. After Sandy ripped his heart out like she did, he seemed content just to browse.

Soda grinned down at me. "Hey, Pony!"

"Hey," I grinned back. He didn't stop, just headed on back to the bathroom to clean up. Steve, in his usual fashion, tipped his chin at me in lieu of wasting any precious words. And then he headed into the kitchen and said hello to Darry. I rolled my eyes.

Two-Bit burst in a few seconds later with a crack about how he thought he'd have to build a boat to make it to our place. "It's like the demolition derby out there. A little rain and everybody goes nuts. Almost had me a new hood ornament. Some old guy threw his brakes on five million feet away from the stop light!" He shook his head.

I tossed my sketchbook aside and threw the ice towel at him. "Take that to Darry," I said as he scrambled after it. He caught it and sneered. I sneered back, laughing.

"Hey, Superman!" Two-Bit cried, and I could tell by Darry's oath that Two-Bit pulled the same thing on Darry that I'd just pulled on him, and it caught Darry by surprise. "Ow!" Two-Bit laughed, ducking through the kitchen door. "Pony, your brother's beating on me again!" He yelled it in Darry's general direction.

I leapt on Two-Bit as Darry poked his head out. "I've got him, Darry! You can finish him off now!"

Darry looked amused as Two-Bit fought against me, dumping me to the floor. I held on, though, and took him with me. "Pony, watch that knee," he said, disappearing down the hall.

Two-Bit gave me a good natured shove, but in the next second, he hauled me to my feet. "Yeah, Pony," he smirked, "why are you trying to get me in trouble?"

Since Darry and Soda were taking up all the space at the bathroom sink, I squirted a little dish soap on my hand and washed up at the kitchen sink. Steve picked a piece of hot dog out of the macaroni and popped it in his mouth before pushing away from the counter.

"See you," he said as Soda appeared in the doorway.

"Where're you two goin'?" Two-Bit asked, giving me a little kick to get me out of the way so he could wash his hands.

"Out," Steve said flatly.

"You're kidding. Wow. Out. I've heard about that place," Two-Bit joked.

"Stevie's buying me dinner," Soda teased, slapping Steve on the back.

"I wouldn't let him do that if I were you," Two-Bit shook his head. "Next thing you know, he'll be thinking you owe him something." He puckered his lips at Steve.

"Save it for your mama, Two-Bit," Steve snorted. Soda just laughed and pushed him into the living room. A few seconds later, the screen door slapped shut in their wake.

I'll bet Darry was surprised to find it was just me, him, and Two-Bit for dinner, which wasn't any worse than me, him, and Soda. Two-Bit rambled about a guy at work who'd nearly had a meltdown over a typo in the Nickel that changed "Happy Hour, Girls Eat Free at Charley's" to "Happy Hour, Eat Girls Free at Charley's". We all laughed, though I got pretty red-faced and Darry shot Two-Bit a look.

"'That Smith, he's a good Christian man,'" Two-Bit mimicked a deep, angry voice, "'and how dare someone mess with the copy like that!'" He laughed. "He just knew somebody did it on purpose. 'That is no accident! That is depraved and completely inappropriate for family reading! If Bill sees this, we'll all be fired!'"

We were all laughing so hard we couldn't eat. When he could finally speak, Two-Bit stuttered, "I told–I told him, 'Bill's in his office pissing himself laughing right now, you'll have to catch him later!'"

Two-Bit kept up the chatter all the way through dinner and through the dishes. I was glad for it, because I was busy thinking about Tim and that car, wondering what he knew that he wasn't telling. He knew something. I wasn't imagining that. But what was he going to do with that information?

Water splashed me in the face. Two-Bit grinned at me. "Wake up!" he chuckled.

"I'm awake!" I grumbled, splashing him back. Then Darry wandered in for a glass of water, and we cut out the waterworks. When he wandered out again, Two-Bit asked,

"Whatcha thinkin' so hard about? Your brain was starting to smoke." He giggled at his own joke.

"I asked Tim about the car, the one that those guys had me and Randy in," I admitted. Two-Bit scowled.

"What'd you do that for?"

I shrugged. "I thought maybe he'd seen it before. I know I have, I just can't remember where."

"Heard the news lately?" It was obvious from how serious his face got that he'd heard something, and it was big.

I looked at him. "No," I said carefully. "Darry won't let me watch. Any time the news comes on, he turns the channel. And he's been putting the paper in the garbage."

Two-Bit glanced at the door. Then he looked like he was trying to decide whether or not to tell me what he'd heard. "They gave Adderson two more days to come up with that ransom. Said if they didn't get it…" He didn't finish. I think he realized telling me had been a mistake because he said quickly, "I'm sure they're just bluffing, Ponyboy. That's how it works. You give a good bluff, you win the hand, right?"

Maybe. Or someone called you on it and you lost everything.