The Outsiders II: The Outcasts

by

~Miriah~of~the~Wind~

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Chapter 4: The Great Hair Grease FiascoJanet and Dally speeded together chasing each other about sixty miles per hour. Janet's car of course was faster than Dally's because it was new and all. Johnny was right Mustangs are tuff cars I though as I took the chance to look around. It had leather seats, cup holders, air conditioning, electric windows so you didn't have to roll it down by hand. Then there was the outside; the black color that gives you that mix between class and what you would want to bring to a rumble. We suddenly stopped at my house in a screech with Dallas a couple inches behind.

"Damn car!! Can't you go any faster?" Darry motioned us to get out before Janet took off on another race again. Sodapop and I came out quietly.

"Thanks for the ride, Janet!" Soda yelled.

"No problem!" Janet yelled and went back to talking to Dallas who had said she didn't know a good prank if it smacked her across the face. When we got home we were so tired we went straight to bed. The next morning I got up and looked at my hair in the bathroom. I had it dye black again because I had gotten sick of looking like a pansy and I wanted my old hair back. It did grow back to my neck by now but since last night my hair was sticking all over the place. I reach at the usual spot where Soda, Darry, and I usually put the hair grease but my hand only touched the sink.

"Soda! Where's the hair Grease?!" I yelled.

"Where it always is." Soda said sleepily as he came into the bathroom too.

"No it isn't." He looked at the sink and then he check the drawers under the sink. Then he went to his room where there was usually hair grease hidden in one of the drawers. So I had to do without grease and although I comb my hair it still didn't look the same as with hair grease. Soda was in a bad mood too because he didn't have any for his hair. We were eating breakfast that morning when Two-Bit and Steve came over.

"Hey do you guys have any grease?" Two-Bit asked. We shook our heads no.

"Damn! Nobody has any grease and I mean NOBODY! Not Johnny or Dally or you guys or The Shepard brothers or the Brumly boys or ANYBODY!!!!!" Since it was Saturday nobody had to work so we went out to find Dally and Johnny. We met them in them in the lot with every other greasers in town, boys and girls. Even the Shepard's gang was there.

"Did you guys find anything?" I asked.

Johnny shook his head no, "We searched all the stores and even looked in the hospital gift shop but there was nothing." Johnny lowered his gaze and then his eyes widened, "Dally, what was it you said to Janet last night? That she wouldn't know a good practical joke if it...smacked...her....across...the..........face?"

There was an uneasy pause that was created out of shock and then we all made a mad rush to the Vasquez manner that lived on the other side of town. The Socs were sure surprised to see as we ran down the side walk and then up the old hill. Then some of them stopped on the lawn and looked up. It was a huge mansion and I'm surprised it didn't have a fence around the whole thing. It did have a tall fence around the back yard. It was those fancy kind of fences too, not the ones you can climb. People backed up and saw Dally and The Shepard walk forward and most people, including Johnny, looked at them in admiration. Dallas knocked loudly on the door and everyone soon was dead silent. The door was answered by none other than Janet who was smiling as though she was waiting for us.

"And who's this? The police?" Janet asked.

"Yeah, the hair grease police." Dally sassed back, "Now a funny thing happened today and do you know what that is?"

"No, why don't you tell me." Janet said. I could sense the tension was mounting higher and higher.

"Well, today I woke up and found there was no hair grease. That's not the big deal though. The big deal IS that every greaser in the city would also be missing hair grease." The Shepard replied.

"Really? And this is some sort of crime, how?" Janet said.

"C'mon Janet! What's a Greaser with out Grease?" The Shepard said.

"An Er." Janet said an closed the door. Socs soon gathered around and I saw some people from the middle class too. The watched us yell, "WE WANT HAIR GREASE! WE WANT HAIR GREASE!" Just then someone came onto the top balcony that belonged to Miriah's room. There were three figures: One had red hair down to her shoulder blades, the other had blonde hair down to her waist and the third had hair down to her knees. Janet, Claudia, and Miriah.

Janet hung up a sign saying, "WILL TRADE GREASE FOR CASH" and went back inside. Claudia gave us the finger and went inside laughing her head off. Miriah put her crutches aside and sat in a chair watching us as though wondering what we would do. All of us scooted up to the lawn and Miriah stared back as though she was interested. I suppose you would have to look at it through her shoes. With the exception of the night she lost her legs you would have to guess she wasn't aloud around Greasers much. I doubt wether she had ever cursed or shared a smoke, if she smoked at all, or just hang out in a gang that's like a family and not like some kind of party or if she had ever been in a rumble. Although it was usually only guys who fought in rumbles you would want a girl in if you could. Socs think girls are weak but Greasers and Middle Class know better. She stared at us and we stared at her. She went back inside and found a metal can. She scooped some of the contents out and dropped it right on the Shepard. He started cussing her out until he realized it was hair grease. Tim rubbed some into his hair and then used a comb and tried to straighten it out. We all gathered up to Miriah expectantly. She smiled as though satisfied with the reaction. She pointed at Janet's signed.

"MIRIAH! CAN YOU HEAR ME?" Two-bit yelled.

"I can hear you perfectly fine." Miriah said.

"Um, yeah. Why don't you be merciful and through some more down?" Miriah looked at him. She took another handful and leaned across the rail as though trying to aim it. She slipped and went over the rail, hanging by a hand.

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