Saturday, December 3rd, 2:26 a.m.
Crenshaw General Hospital,
Inglewood
Abel Jaworski was bellowing at the top of his lungs into Johnny's pale, bloodied face.
Everyone within the vicinity was watching or listening – even some of the nurses, orderlies, and doctors, as they went about their business, a number of them parents themselves and in complete agreement with Abel's fury.
"YOU WANNA FUCK UP YOUR LIFE, THAT'S YOUR BUSINESS, YOU DUMB, DRUNK PIECE OF SHIT! YOU ARE NOT TAKING MY SON WITH YOU!"
Sitting on a chair, Johnny didn't move, or dare to speak. There was an burly officer standing next to him, stiff with his arms folded, and he had handcuffs on, almost too tight. He didn't dare to complain. He would be spending the weekend in jail.
Abel Jaworski had requested that Johnny first see the damage he had done. Abel was beside himself with worry, panic, fear, heartbreak, RAGE.
It was first time Johnny had ever seen a grown man cry.
And Davey ... Davey ...
Davey was in the hospital room behind them, fast asleep and hooked up to several monitors, his face betraying the pain that his body was experiencing, his right leg in a heavy-duty cast, having been broken in two places; he also had a broken right wrist and a nasty wound on his forehead.
Johnny had stolen someone's motorcycle – a personally painted, souped-up Harley – riding it, gunning it for all it was worth – look, Ma, no hands – and had crashed, wobbling in jerking motions, straight into the (thankfully very small) nearby crowd.
Davey had shoved Rio out of the way, while Goose and Louis hadn't been able to move.
Police cars and two ambulances had been there in less than ten minutes, all sirens screaming.
Davey's injuries had been among the worst.
Johnny had a twisted ankle, and bloodied scrapes and gashes all over the left side of his face and both of his hands.
The owner of the motorcycle, Bud McLaughlin, was debating on whether to press charges of theft. Dumb punk thinks he's some kind of goddamn acrobat?!
Rio had gone home for the night, with the promise that she would be back in the morning (with her parents, who would want to meet the man who'd quite possibly saved their daughter's life).
Andrianna and Duran could only sit there, drained and feeling out of answers while they watched the madness unfold. Louis had filled them in on everything that had happened at the end of gym class.
Abel kept yelling. "HE'S ALL I HAVE, HOW DARE YOU?! HIS ISN'T THE ONLY LIFE YOU ENDANGERED, EITHER! WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"
Davey's mother had died when he was eight. He remembered her smile the most, and how she'd done her damndest not to show how much pain the cancer had put her in.
Johnny wanted to throw up, but there was nothing left in his stomach, his heart hammering sluggishly, sweat running down his face, mixing with the drying blood (still leaking out in drops here and there), stinging. He'd refused treatment.
Everyone was there, teens and parents alike.
Louis and Goose had both called their parents, and it was Goose's mother who had called Abel. Louis had then called Sharon, to tell her that dress shopping was off for Saturday, and the reasons why. Sharon had hung up without answering – she'd been too stunned to do anything else – and had immediately called Stephanie, Rhonda, and Paulette. Delores had been the one to phone Michael.
Andrianna and Duran had thanked Michael for trying to help.
Delores, Sharon, and Rhonda, and Goose and Louis, along with Ralph Cooper and Laurelle DiMucci, were all down in the cafeteria at the moment, purchasing sodas for everyone.
Bernadette and Paulette were having a loud argument in the hospital hallway, and Bernadette was absolutely putting her foot down.
"You are not allowed to date him anymore, and don't you fuckin' dare argue with me, little girl, what if it were you lying in a hospital bed with bandages and broken bones?! Take a look at Abel's face, go and look at Davey again, do you think this is some kind of goddamned game?!"
"Mom, the winter dance – "
"I don't give a fuck!"
Bernadette then turned her blistering gaze on Johnny, striding over to him, urging Abel out of the way, shouting at full force, "Jesus Christ, you stupid, selfish ... what if it had been Stephanie – ?!"
A muscle in Michael's cheek ticked, his arms folded as he leaned against the wall (Stephanie and Ted were sitting a few feet away, staring around, listening silently). He'd be swinging by his tonsils.
" – or Louis, Goose, or any of the other Pink Ladies?! Christ, do you ever stop to think about anyone but yourself?! Abel's right, you wanna fuck up your life, that is your business, YOU ARE NOT TAKING OUR CHILDREN DOWN WITH YOU! LEAST OF ALL MY DAUGHTER!"
Johnny was trembling violently all over, something warm and wet sliding down his face repeatedly – sweat, tears, or blood, he couldn't tell.
"Johnny, you're an alcoholic." Duran said flatly, his tone harsh with strained exhaustion. "You're seventeen years old and you're a goddamn alcoholic."
Andrianna looked impossibly drained – she could swear a few silver hairs had grown in, in the hours since the doctor had called her and Duran.
"Your father and I are out of answers. We've done everything we can to help you. The courts can deal with you now. It's likely you'll be put in a juvie center. Not a drop of beer in sight. They'll have you attending AA meetings for certain."
Johnny's very skin clenched up at those notions. Still, he said nothing. Hollow. There was no defense.
"What about house arrest? He could have one of those electronic ankle tags put on him." Michael offered after a short silence, shrugging when Andrianna and Duran looked sharply over at him. "Why on earth would we do that?"
"Because, at least then, Johnny wouldn't be getting into more fights." Michael explained.
Marveling a little at Michael's insight, Bernadette said, "Personally, I think he deserves to have his butt kicked hard. Heard you tuned him up some, Michael."
"Thank you, Mrs. Rebchuck. But I don't necessarily find self-defense something to brag about."
"Carrington's been patient with him." Stephanie said flatly. "Six chances of ten he wouldn't be that lucky with the next dude."
Michael gave her a small smile of appreciation, then looked Paulette in the eyes. "Are you going to blame me for this choice of his, too?"
Bernadette stared at her daughter, the anger rising again in her widening eyes. "You've been blaming Michael for Johnny's choices?" she nearly whispered.
Paulette started crying, stressed and exhausted. "I ... I told Carrington earlier that ... that he should've maybe ... maybe just let Johnny get it all out of his system ... cos ... cos of the whole baseball thing."
Johnny had the sudden, nearly overwhelming urge to put his arms around her. The officer wasn't about to let him move, though.
Bernadette didn't answer, just stood there staring at her daughter. Disappointed.
Please God, let Delores be sane. I don't care if she does like other chicks, just let her be sane.
Davey, from the looks of it, was going to be in the hospital for at least four days; after that, it would be two months at minimum before he would have full use of his right leg and wrist again.
Rio came to see him once a day, in the evening (liking his smart-ass sense of humor, his leather jacket and shy smile), while Sharon and Louis made sure he stayed caught up on school work. Thursday, December 8th would be his first day back.
Principal McGee was respectful enough of the situation to the let the T-Birds' Saturday detentions slide, upon hearing of the circumstances when Andrianna phoned her at around 9 a.m. on Saturday morning.
Around noon was when Michael got a hold of Sandy over the phone to let her know what had happened; inside of a few hours, every past T-Bird and Lady in the area had been informed, and another meeting was called, to be held the next day at noon at Cadillac Jack's; this time, Doody and Putzie were able to attend. Andrianna, Duran, and Delores joined in, as well.
All Bird and Lady jackets on, they sat down, sodas before them and nothing else.
"He's out." Danny said before anyone else could open their mouths; Sandy wasn't sure if she'd ever seen him look so angry.
"Don't." Paulette entreated in a quiet voice, beseeching.
"Shut up, Paulette." Stephanie barked, the fury crackling, her eyes glowing. She whirled on Goose in the next heartbeat. "And just so I don't gotta tell you in the next minute, you can shut up, too."
"Mike," Rizzo said, "You're the head man, it's down to you."
Goose couldn't stop himself. "How the hell are you gonna let the milksop jerk-off decide anything?! He don't even ride a 'cycle!"
"Johnny has truly rubbed off on you, hasn't he?" Andrianna countered, her expression stony. "And what does Mr. Carrington's mode of transportation have to do with anything? Really, pay attention, Mr. McKenzie. Johnny got plastered, stole a motorcycle, and ran Davey over, pitching himself across the handlebars in the process. Someone could quite possibly have been killed."
"Johnny's mistakes don't give Shakespeare the right to steal from him!"
"I haven't stolen anything."
"You don't like it, McKenzie, then get your ass out. Cos Johnny ain't gonna be a T-Bird no more, not after this."
"Let him stay." Duran requested, too tiredly.
"Tell us why we should, Mr. Nogerelli." Stephanie countered in a low voice.
"Because then, at least, he'll have one thing that makes sense to him."
I don't make sense to him? Paulette wondered.
It was decided that the outcome of the Johnny's jacket would depend on the outcome of the trial. Afterwards, they went up to the hospital in Inglewood to visit Davey.
Jan had decided to keep her baby, the opinions of society and her ex-lover and her family be damned (she had her Pink Lady and T-Bird cohorts on her side, and for now, that was enough).
On Monday morning, the Rydell High School gossip mill exploded.
Late on Wednesday afternoon, the plane bringing Bastian home from New York touched down on the LAX runway. He felt sickened by what he had discovered through a long conversation with two of Ambrosia Lynn's childhood friends, Veradie Robbins and Emmabelle Mitchell, and was more than anxious to see Lailea.
At the same time, Johnny was standing in a small courtroom, handcuffed, still white-faced, and completely subdued, nauseous from going so long without a drink, facing down a box-jawed judge and charges of public intoxication, driving under the influence, and grand theft auto.
His parents, brothers, and their family friend of a lawyer were going to bat for him one last time.
Michael had been called in as a witness, and summed everything up as, "Yes, John Nogerelli has tried to pick a fight with me, on three separate occasions. No, he never got very far. If you're going to ask me if I want to press charges for assault, the answer is no. It's my opinion that he's got enough to deal with."
Wipe that shit-eatin' smirk off your face, you ... The thought fell flat, Davey's condition at the forefront of his mind.
Goose was sitting in the audience behind him, just watching, giving a supportive thumbs up every time Johnny glanced back at him (his parents had allowed him to be there, provided he didn't get verbally involved).
Bernadette had refused to let Paulette attend; the same went for Louis, by his mother's orders. Abel Jaworski had considering joining the showdown, but had decided against it in the end, given that he didn't think he'd be able to handle being in the same room as Johnny.
After the two-hour hearing – with Andrianna, Duran, Jett, Galvan, and Bud McLaughlin all attending and speaking their piece – Johnny's sentence was seven months of home confinement (which would allow him to keep going to school and to work for Andrianna), effective immediately, along with court-ordered AA sessions twice a week, as well as anger management sessions, also twice a week.
The judge also ordered Johnny to pay off the damages that had been done to Bud McLaughlin's bike – a blown front tire, a bent wheel guard, and a busted rearview mirror, totaling in at $125. Andrianna would be deducting the cost from three of Johnny's work checks, $50 at a time.
"The situation will be reevaluated after July sixth of next year." The judge banged the gavel down. "Next case."
"Don't you fuckin' blow it, boy." the lawyer told him loudly, on the steps outside of the courthouse. "Consider yourself goddamn lucky that this was only your first legal offense, and that you couldn't be tried as an adult!"
Johnny wanted to sink into an endless hole and vanish, his mind helplessly, instinctively searching for ways around this, to keep the fun times in his life.
What am I gonna do now?
Zinone.
No. Paulette.
I'm shit for real apologies.