Ok I'm really trying to keep my promise and update every week:) I'm not getting as many reviews as before:( I guess that's the price I have to pay for taking such a huge break from this story:( So, if you like it, please reveiw - it's much appreciated. Thanks to those who emailed me - it means a lot. And Die an Outsider don't worry about it. Exams suck I know, believe me so you'll review whenever you get a chance:)))
It was a regular Thursday afternoon. I just got out of school, and was walking to Johnny's. It was snowing hard and, I was thankful that it wasn't too far. This time it was that hard, nasty snow, and not the soft nice one like it was the other day. The wind was blowing the snow right into my face, and it was scratching my skin. It was slippery too, and I was sort of sliding my way through, rather than walking.
"Hey," Johnny greeted, as I walked in, "its nasty out."
"Yeah," I agreed. It was nice and warm inside, and I kind of envied Johnny that he got to stay here today, and didn't have to go anywhere.
"You want something to eat?" Johnny asked.
"Naw," I replied. I didn't have much of an appetite.
"So how is Darry doing?" Johnny asked as we were sprawled on the floor, watching TV.
"He went back to work." I replied. "He's much better now."
About an hour later the door opened, and Carol walked in. She was never home this early, and somehow I just knew this had to do with Angela. Carol looked pissed. She rarely was, but today clearly was the day. Her hair was kind of messed up from the wind and wet from the melting snow. She kept dropping things too. First she accidentally dropped her bag on the floor, when she meant to put it on the chair. Then, as she was passing in the hallway on her way into the kitchen, she bumped into the mirror stand and knocked a few things down. "Shit," she cursed, bending to pick it up. It was a bunch of hairclips and combs and stuff like that. Johnny and I just kept raising our eyebrows.
"Don't mind me guys," she said, getting back up, and walking into the kitchen. She clearly was worked up over something. You could hear it in her voice. It sounded irritated and frustrated.
A minute later we heard the sound of glass breaking against the floor and another "shit" following it. When we walked in to the kitchen, Carol was standing in the middle - her coat still on, and she was trying to light up a cigarette, pressing her lighter frantically, like a million times, but it still wouldn't work. Right by her feet there was a pile of broken glass, which I recognized as what used to be her favorite cup.
"Bad day, huh?" Johnny asked.
"Yeah, you could say that." She sounded calmer this time. She put down the cigarette, quickly took her coat off, and kneeled to pick up the glass. She had the bigger pieces of the glass in her hand and was trying to get the smaller ones, but then she just dropped them all back on the floor, and just plopped on the floor right next to it, leaning her back against one of the cupboards.
"I can't believe it," she said, shaking her head. "I just can't believe it." She sounded frustrated gain. "They ordered Angela to stay in a girl's home."
"For good?" Johnny asked shocked, not even letting her finish. I started to get the idea that Johnny cared for Angela a little too much.
"No," Carol replied. "It's while they actually decide if her mother qualifies for state aid. Now that her dad doesn't have anything," she paused, "so it's only for a week or so," she continued. "But they promised, they promised that she could stay with her mother for that time. Until they reach the decision." She sighed heavily.
"The first time they tried to get her there she split." Carol smiled, "that's when she stayed the night here, remember?" We both nodded.
"So, I went over there, and reasoned with them to let her stay with her mother for this week, until final decision is reached, and they promised, they promised," she stressed the word 'promised', "that they would, but today all of the sudden they said they couldn't do that. It's against some regulations."
"Johnny you are so doing the right thing." She was now looking at Johnny, smiling, "you don't need to deal with any of this. I know you may feel like you are in prison here, not being able to go anywhere, but in soon you'll be free and you won't have to deal with any custody issues."
Johnny winced at the word prison. "This ain't no prison," he assured her, "my folks' place that's the prison - not this."
"Thanks Johnny," she smiled, getting up from the floor, and looking less frustrated now. "Now you guys go on doing whatever you've been doing. I'll pick up this mess." She said, smiling again.
We went back to the living room, and heard Carol yelling from the kitchen, "You guys, you didn't eat anything again. Guess you are sick of mashed potatoes. Huh?" When we didn't reply she just yelled again, "oh well, I'm ordering pizza then."
The pizza arrived pretty soon. We were eating, watching TV and talking at the same time. When the movie ended, we kind of just talked about this and that, and I don't' remember how, but we got to talking about Carol, and her childhood. How she was growing up and stuff, and how she knew she wanted to be a social worker. Turns out she went to college all the way in New York, to a good school too. She went to NYU. She went on a scholarship - there was no way her parents could afford to pay for that.
"So why did you come back here?" I asked surprised, "I'm sure you could get any job you wanted after graduating from NYU. You could be living in New York in a decent neighborhood now."
"Don't say that Ponyboy," she hushed me. "Think about it. I'm much more needed here, than out there. Three are so many people working in this field over there. But there are only a few of us here. And a lot of kids that have all sorts of problems here. I mean, its not like I haven't thought of staying there." She added. "But at the end I decided to come back."
"I get it." I nodded. It was stupid of me not to think of that. If she wasn't here, then all we would have would be those tide asses social service people that came to my house to check on us, and fake social workers like the one Two-Bit was telling me about before.
"How is it?" Johnny asked quietly.
"What? New York? How is it? Well,…," she was thoughtful for a while…, "It's real big. But after all it's all separated in many different neighborhoods. Kind of like cities inside the city. Some are very rich and fancy with arrogant jerks living there. Kind of like the west side here. Some are real poor. And all kinds of criminals and drug dealers live there. Others are decent.
And there are people from different countries over there. From all over the world. It's more like a huge airport. You know how there are people from all over the world at the airport, and everyone is just going on about their own business, waiting for their flight. That's how New York is. Everyone is just going about their own business. You pass by people on the street, and you don't even know who they are or where they are from. It can get really lonely over there."
"Well, I've never been to the airport," Johnny said, "but I could imagine how it is. I still wish I could go there," he added dreamingly. "Maybe not to live there, but to visit."
"Do they have the rivalry between the rich and the poor over there?" I asked. I've heard stories from people about gang wars in New York, and seen a couple of movies about it. But movies are movies. I wanted to hear form the person who actually been there.
"Sure." She said. "They are all fighting over there. The rich with the rich, and with the poor. And the gangs from the poor neighborhoods are fighting amongst themselves too. Its funny really." She said, "and sad too."
"So it's just like here then?" I asked.
"Yeah, it's just like here. Only bigger." She said with a smile.
It was getting dark, and I had to go home. It got dark early this time of the year, and I needed to go before it would get really dark. I didn't need to get jumped by some soc that sure would take advantage of the darkness, or get mugged by some hood from our side of town, who was broke and needed some money to get booze. Of course I didn't have any money on me, but he wouldn't know that would he? I said my good-byes and got going.
On my way back I was thinking about New York - a huge place that's like a huge airport, where everyone is going about their own business. And some people are filthy rich, while others are really poor. Is there a way to be in the middle, I thought. To just have enough, but not too much. And more importantly, is there a way not to be judged by others, and not to be looked down at?