I'm dying, I thought, and wondered what was happening to Johnny. I was brought out of my contemplation by a sound that you never want to hear on the East side: the click of a heater being cocked. For once, I was glad to hear it, mainly because of the dangerous female voice that came after.
"Step away from the children and put your hands above your head, or I will shoot you." Relief flooded through me. I'd know that voice anywhere: Jane Sharp, the only cop worth the name that ever patrolled around our neighborhood. The Soc holding my face in the fountain dropped me, quick sharp. I guess if there's something that'll sober anybody up real quick, it's the threat of a bullet. I fell onto the ground, soaking wet and shivering. I looked around and saw Johnny laying on the ground, his face bruised with the beginnings of a black eye. Good thing Jane always carried extra cuffs, I mused. She'd once told me that when you've got a beat like the East side, it pays to be prepared. She quickly cuffed the Soc's together, than snapped the last cuff to the bar of the swing set. They came quietly, probably too drunk and shocked at being arrested to make any trouble. "You're under arrest for assault, underage drinking, and I noticed a car, so I'll add driving while intoxicated. All of you can't fit into my car, so we're waiting for backup. You'll be able to call your parents when you get to the station."
Jane Sharp was a tall, lithe 35 year old woman with long auburn hair always tied into knot at the nape of her neck. Freckles covered her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She had dark brown eyes that were usually gentle but could narrow into a glare that would shut even Dally up. When she was on duty, her badge gleamed on her chest, and we made sure not to make any trouble, knowing that she'd have no problems hauling even the gang in. She'd been real close with our Mom, too. We had met Jane her first day on the Tulsa PD-those asshole fuzz didn't want a woman officer, so they gave her a beat on the East side, alone, on her first day. The joke was on them, 'cause Jane sure can keep a bunch of greasers in line, bein' one herself. She'd walked up to our house, cool as anything, and knocked. Soda had yanked the door open, caught sight of her badge, and instinctively slammed the door. Mom had yanked it back open, scolding Soda over her shoulder, to see a cop laughing herself sick on our doorstep. Once she'd pulled herself together, Jane had adjusted her hat, grinned at Mom, and said, in her southern twang, "Now, I grew up in a neighborhood a lot like this one in Nashville, Tennessee, and I know the safe house on the block when I see it. So I figured I'd come over and introduce myself to the other people tryin' to keep folks safe." She'd held out her hand. "Officer Sharp, but y'all can call me Jane, unless you're making trouble." Since then, her and Mom had been closer than sisters. Mom didn't have any biological siblings, so Jane was the aunt we'd never had, kind and smart, with a tongue and wit sharp as anything. She and Two-Bit would snark back and forth all day. She got along real well with whole gang, really, even Dally, who hated cops more than anything. (He'd warmed up to her once he'd realized that cop or not, Jane was just as grease as any of us.) She and Mom were the only people that Dallas Winston would ever listen to, and probably the only people he's ever actually respected. Sometimes I think that the only reason Dally's never killed nobody is that he knew Jane and Mom would be disappointed in him.
From the first time she'd set foot on our porch, Jane had always had our backs. She'd let Dally sleep in her spare room when there wasn't enough space in our house. Hell, she'd even bailed half of the gang out of prison, but only if they didn't deserve to be there-If any of us just did something 'cause we wanted to, she'd tell us that if we were ready to commit a crime we were damn well ready to face the consequences. And she wasn't just there for us, she was there for everyone. Out of every person besides Mom and Dad I've ever met, Jane is the one person I want to grow up to be like the most.
I was brought out of my reverie when Jane finished cuffing the Socs and knelt beside Johnny. She ran a gentle hand through his hair.
"You alright, Johnnycake?" He sat up.
"I-I think so," he mumbled, tracing the scar left from the last beating. I could see the exact moment Jane realized. Her eyes darted over to Bob and the rings on his hand.
"Johnny. This wasn't the first time they attacked you." It wasn't a question. Johnny nodded miserably. Jane's lips tightened into a line. She rubbed his shoulder gently, then turned to me.
"You're soaking wet, kid. Take this," she wrapped her jacket around me, then froze. "Why. Are. You. Wet." I winced.
"Well, they may have put me in the fountain…" Johnny snorted.
"They held your head underwater, Pone. They tried to kill you. Call it what it is." I was surprised, that was quite a speech for Johnny. Then I caught sight of Jane.
I could see the moment when tight rope of professionalism she'd kept on her emotions snapped. Her face twisted into an inhuman snarl of sheer hatred. It was a look I recognized, but not on Jane's face. It was the look Dally wore before beating someone's head in, the look Johnny's father had worn the one time I saw him hunt down his son, the look the Soc with the madras shirt wore before flipping out his blade. The look Bob had worn before telling his buddy to grab me. It wasn't an angry look, not a disgusted one, not even one that promised blood. It was the sort of look that a person would wear right as they plunged a knife into the heart of someone they despised. It wasn't a look that belonged on the face of the most genuinely decent person I knew. Jane's hand floated to her holster. She drew her gun. I opened my mouth to scream for her to stop, think, don't go to prison, when she handed it to me. My mouth snapped shut with a click.
"Hold that. If I have it, I'll use it," she said. Her voice was absolutely flat. I nodded and set it down next to me. "Johnny," she said, still in that terrifying, emotionless voice, "Go tell Darry and Soda that Pony's fine, but y'all got attacked by some Socs. Tell them I'm with him, and that I said for them to stay where they are and wait for me to come there." Johnny nodded and took off. In one smooth movement, she stood up and turned on her heel. She stalked over to the Socs.
"WHOSE IDEA WAS THIS?!" she screamed. She sounded insane. I was a little scared of her. They all pointed shaking fingers at Bob. She sat down in front of him and gave all of them a saccharine smile. "Hey y'all! So, you've pissed me off big time. Fortunately for you, I'm a decent person, I have no interest in going to prison, and I don't want to traumatize Ponyboy any further, so I'm not going to kill you all. Congrats! But now I'm going to tell all you about all the reasons that I would advise you to never, ever attack any greaser ever again, because all y'all have rich daddies, and I wouldn't be all that shocked if you get off scott free." Jane cracked her knuckles.
"Number one: the little black-haired boy you assaulted for the second time might not seem very scary to you, but you might want to reconsider trying to murder him again for a couple of reasons. One, after you attempted to take his life for the first time, Johnny started carrying a six-inch switchblade in his back pocket, and he knows how to use it. I taught him myself. Number two, and probably the reason you really should be worried, is that Dallas Winston loves Johnny like a little brother. Y'all know Dallas?" They nodded, paling even further. "Thought so. Now, I'm about 95% of that boy's impulse control, and Johnny and I are the only people alive that could stop him from slitting your throats. Hmmm." Jane tapped her finger against her mouth. "Why the hell should either of us do that? You tried to murder Johnny twice, so that takes that option out, and you also attempted to murder two boys that I happen to care rather a lot about, so that takes me out!"
"Of course, Dally isn't the only person who's going to be roaring for your blood by morning! There's also Ponyboy's big brothers! I'm sure you've heard of Darrel Curtis, one of the best football players your school has ever seen! Yeah, his muscles are probably even bigger now. He probably wouldn't even need a knife to kill you! He could just squeeze your neck and it'd snap like a carrot stick! And he's not just Pony's brother, he's his guardian. Of course there's also Sodapop, who might seem super laid-back, but if you hurt his kid brother? Whoo-wee, I do not want to be you when he gets his hands on you! There's also Two-Bit Matthews, who owns the best blade in Tulsa and Steve Randle, who once held off four men with a broken pop bottle! Gosh, imagine what he could do with backup, a blade, and a cop as a lookout! Oh, and I can't forget about Tim Shepard, who not only doesn't even need an excuse to come down on a Soc, but also has a kid brother who's buddies with Pony. And of course, the person who you should probably be most afraid of." Jane dropped the sweet, joking air and squared her shoulders. Her eyes were harder than Darry's have ever been. She leaned in close. "Me, Jane Sharp. I was the toughest hood ever to walk the streets of downtown Nashville, Tennessee. I can shatter a man's jaw in one punch, and I have. I am an excellent shot, and I carry a Colt Python pistol everywhere I go." She stood up and looked each Soc in the eye. "If any of you, or any of your pals, ever so much as look at my nephew funny, I will hunt you down, and, well," she gave an unamused laugh, "You better hope that God shows you mercy, because I sure as hell won't." Bob whimpered. "Is that clear?" The Socs all nodded so hard I thought for a second their heads would fall off. I couldn't really feel bad for them.
Just as she finished, a police transport van roared up and another cop walked up.
"What's going on, Sharp?"
"We got a group of intoxicated rich kids who I caught in the act of attempting to drown this fourteen year old boy." The other cop's eyes grew wide and looked closer.
"Sharp, that's Richard Shelton's boy!"
"So what, Hart?" The other cop, apparently Hart, scrubbed a hand over his face.
"So you'll never make it stick."
"Perhaps. But you better be damn sure that I'll be making a big enough deal of it that everyone will know what they did, and everyone will know if Daddy pays his way out." Hart shook his head.
"Only you, Sharp. Only you." She grinned at him and they started herding the Socs into the car.
"I'll be at the station as soon as I take Ponyboy here back home and explain everything to his guardians." Hart nodded.
"Chief's been trying to get this bunch in for ages, so I'm sure he'll go easy. He took your speech about favoring the rich to heart." Jane smiled.
"Good." When the van drove away, Jane dropped down next to me and grinned. I had to grin back, even though I was a little scared of her.
"So," she said, suddenly serious, "what happened with Darry?" I froze.
"What do you mean? Nothing happened with Darry!" I said in a high voice. She gave me an unimpressed look.
"You're out here with Johnny at 3 o'clock in the morning. Your curfew was about three hours ago, so you're outside for one of two reasons. One, you and Darry had a fight and you stormed out or you decided to go camping without a tent." I hung my head.
"He hit me," I mumbled miserably. Jane put her arm around me and pulled me into her side.
"That ain't okay, kiddo," she said sympathetically.
"He hit me! Dad never even spanked me! Why does Darry hate me so much?!" I said, trying not to cry. Jane smoothed a hand over my hair.
"Do you want me to take you and Soda?" she asked gently.
"Huh?"
"Your Mom and Dad's will said that either Darry or I could take custody of you. Darry desperately wanted to, so I let him, but if he isn't a fit guardian, I can and will sue for custody, and I'll probably get it."
"No!" I cried instinctively, horrified at the thought of leaving Darry. Jane grinned at me. I realized what had happened.
"Sounds like you two should work it out, then."
"Yeah," I said, realizing what I'd been denying to myself. Even if Darry hated me, I loved him, and I wanted him to love me.
"Come on, Pone, let's get to Casa Curtis, the gang must be worrin' their heads off." We got into her cruiser and drove the few blocks home.