Cutting Trees: Chapter Six
Cedar rolled over in the Darrell Curtis' bed and thought about how precarious this would look if her step-father were to peek in the window just now. Out of a black eye, she squinted and swung out onto the floor. Darry's clock read four o'clock, the little minute handing lingering just past the one, which signaled 4:06 but it was close enough, she supposed, to call it four o'clock. Four o'clock in the morning. She hadn't slept very long. Five hours at most and it was already beginning to become light.
Walking out into the living room to help with something in the very least. "Well, hello sleeping beauty," a voice greeted her sarcastically. "Aren't you lucky while the rest of us work our tails off all day?"
"I wouldn't call myself lucky if that's what you mean, Steve," she snapped.
He scowled looking out the window from his game of solitaire. He hated women like her. He hated women like her even more when they were right. "It's four o'clock in the afternoon pity you decided to join me."
"Why aren't you at work?"
He looked away, "I got fired."
"You did what?" she looked at him like he was insane.
"I got fired."
"What did ya do? Mouth off to your boss?" she was being sarcastic, but when Steve only looking at her his gaze a leveling, she realized that -was- the reason he'd been fired and fried. "Oh." She sat next to him. "I heard you were the best mechanic around. Why would your boss want to get rid of you?"
"Said somethin' about not needin' so much help anymore an' now Soda's all worried that he's gonna fire him too," Steve snorted. "Not in a million years. He jest' fired me 'cuz I only fix cars I don't haul in girls like Soda, and girls don't give a shit how fast they get serviced, or if there's a back-up... they're there for Soda gazin'." Steve shrugged again placing the queen of spades on the jack of spades in the stack. It really didn't bother him he'd been fired for his lack of looks to bring in customers, he wasn't changing anything about himself if he could help it. It was just a fact of life Soda picked up girl after girl after girl. He wouldn't want a woman chasing him for his looks anyhow. He'd seen some pretty unusual lengths some girls would go to just to buy a tank of gas. "Ain't no big deal, already found a couple stations that need a mechanic, won't pay half as good. I jest' don't look as good as Soda."
She crossed her arms as she sat down, "I don't think so."
Steve's head shot up to look at her, "Don't even try and make me feel better, sister, it ain't flyin'."
"Why would I try to make you feel better Steve Randle?" she smirked and took a swig of her Coke. "And I try not to lie, the truth is more fun. Especially with you."
"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I dunno," she shrugged. "'Cuz I can't figure you out."
"You can't 'figure' me out?" he cocked an eyebrow like Two-Bit. Took him a whole summer to learn to do such, but in the end he thought it was worth it. It was a bit unexpected from him, and he liked that. Somehow he liked to believe he was still human in all this mess.
She kicked her feet up onto his knee for a foot-rest, "Nope."
Once again, she removed the cigarette from his mouth taking a drag. It grinded rough, irritating sand against Steve's conscience. "Why do you always do that?" he snapped.
"Do what?" she inquired.
"Take whatever I'm smoking, eating, drinking take a piece of it or smoke it then give it back!" he raved.
"You really want to know?" she inquired, leaning closer to him.
He leaned in to meet her nose to nose. She was so close it would take just a few more inches and he could conquer that smirking, sarcastic mouth of hers. And when he connected with her dark brown eyes he couldn't help but stare into them, he wanted to be lost in them. At the moment, he was finding no excuse to even try and escape their black abyss. Did he really want to know? "Yes."
"Because," she stood and the trance was gone. She leaned into an ear, like some sort of vixen walking Sutton street. "You make it taste better."
His eyes widened to swallow his face and he looked around at her as she walked down the hallway to the bathroom. With no one in the room left to make a smirk remark to, Steve made an estranged face, astonished and admonishing, asked the air, "I make it -taste- better?"
*
Ponyboy raised his eyebrows at his brother's best friend and his most faithful editor when he got home from school. Normally Steve and Cedar would have been vocally abusing each other by now, but they were silent. Stoic. He found all of this very amusing. As a fact he knew his new friend found Steve severely attractive, even more so than his own brother.
Exactly how Steve attracted her, Pony did not know. The guy was tall and he had mean eyes. He was too rough for a girl like Cedar, who enjoyed everything that she could see beauty in. So how did she see some kind of dashing handsomeness in Steve? He was a complete ass to her, at least Pony thought they should try and be cordial.
Shrugging the fifteen-year-old opened the fridge and took a chug of the milk. Friday. It was good it was Friday. "Hey would y'all tell Darry I went to the Nightly Double."
Cedar nodded from behind her book and waved him out the door. They sat in further silence until she felt eyes watching her, or rather over her shoulder. She turned her head back to Steve who was reading her book. "Would you get your nose out of my book? Its mine!"
"Naw, it says Tulsa Public Library, sleeping beauty, it's the city of Tulsa's. And as far as I know, since I turned eighteen I've been a citizen of Tulsa. You on the other hand..."
"Get away from me Steve."
"Why?"
She sputtered in her response, "Because you probably can't even read it anyway! And what do you appreciate about books, about art... anyway?!"
"Maybe I appreciate it more than you think," he said as she stood to face him. It was a challenge, it was always was. They were always challenging each other to some sort of danger or another. "When have you really asked me a question worth anything Cedar?"
She looked around in his eyes and for once found a half-sincerity. It was still laced with sarcasm to taunt her, as if she were insignificant for never inquiring. "You wouldn't answer me if I did!"
"Maybe I would."
"I don't believe you."
"Then don't blame me sister."
"I ain't your sister."
"I know you ain't. Its an expression, sweetheart."
"And I ain't that either! Quit it with your expressions!" she raved at a hiss. "Do you just like making me go off like this? And I have had a decent conversation with you! And I've asked you a question worth answering... Nevermind it wasn't a question!"
Steve clenched his jaw. "Why d'ya like to get me uppity with your uppity- ness?"
"You do it yourself and drag me along for the ride!" she fumed, walking into the kitchen, throwing out eggs and sausage. "Quit following me."
"Its no more your house than it is mine, sugar," he only used it because he knew she hated it the very most of any of his names for her, which were sheer sarcasm in themselves.
She turned around from the cupboard and he had two hands on each side of the linoleum counter. Her figure stood stark still and he could feel her heart beating faster. She was scared of him... that's what it looked like at any rate. Trapped by his body, Cedar could feel the heat in her body rising and tears too for something she knew she could never have, only because he'd never have her. And even if he would have had her, society would look down on it. Even people in the West looked down upon it, and this was Oklahoma for God's sake. It would be worse, no doubt. He was white. She was Navajo. Things like this just didn't work. She wanted it to work, but it never would. They just couldn't get along. It was plain and simple.
"Steve. Move," her plump lip quivered.
"Why are you so interested in my life all of a sudden?"
.-*-.
A.N. Hee-hee. I have to go play with my dogs. So close but no cigar. ^_^ I think I'll wrap it up in the next three chapters... maybe! R & R! Ja ne!
Cedar rolled over in the Darrell Curtis' bed and thought about how precarious this would look if her step-father were to peek in the window just now. Out of a black eye, she squinted and swung out onto the floor. Darry's clock read four o'clock, the little minute handing lingering just past the one, which signaled 4:06 but it was close enough, she supposed, to call it four o'clock. Four o'clock in the morning. She hadn't slept very long. Five hours at most and it was already beginning to become light.
Walking out into the living room to help with something in the very least. "Well, hello sleeping beauty," a voice greeted her sarcastically. "Aren't you lucky while the rest of us work our tails off all day?"
"I wouldn't call myself lucky if that's what you mean, Steve," she snapped.
He scowled looking out the window from his game of solitaire. He hated women like her. He hated women like her even more when they were right. "It's four o'clock in the afternoon pity you decided to join me."
"Why aren't you at work?"
He looked away, "I got fired."
"You did what?" she looked at him like he was insane.
"I got fired."
"What did ya do? Mouth off to your boss?" she was being sarcastic, but when Steve only looking at her his gaze a leveling, she realized that -was- the reason he'd been fired and fried. "Oh." She sat next to him. "I heard you were the best mechanic around. Why would your boss want to get rid of you?"
"Said somethin' about not needin' so much help anymore an' now Soda's all worried that he's gonna fire him too," Steve snorted. "Not in a million years. He jest' fired me 'cuz I only fix cars I don't haul in girls like Soda, and girls don't give a shit how fast they get serviced, or if there's a back-up... they're there for Soda gazin'." Steve shrugged again placing the queen of spades on the jack of spades in the stack. It really didn't bother him he'd been fired for his lack of looks to bring in customers, he wasn't changing anything about himself if he could help it. It was just a fact of life Soda picked up girl after girl after girl. He wouldn't want a woman chasing him for his looks anyhow. He'd seen some pretty unusual lengths some girls would go to just to buy a tank of gas. "Ain't no big deal, already found a couple stations that need a mechanic, won't pay half as good. I jest' don't look as good as Soda."
She crossed her arms as she sat down, "I don't think so."
Steve's head shot up to look at her, "Don't even try and make me feel better, sister, it ain't flyin'."
"Why would I try to make you feel better Steve Randle?" she smirked and took a swig of her Coke. "And I try not to lie, the truth is more fun. Especially with you."
"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I dunno," she shrugged. "'Cuz I can't figure you out."
"You can't 'figure' me out?" he cocked an eyebrow like Two-Bit. Took him a whole summer to learn to do such, but in the end he thought it was worth it. It was a bit unexpected from him, and he liked that. Somehow he liked to believe he was still human in all this mess.
She kicked her feet up onto his knee for a foot-rest, "Nope."
Once again, she removed the cigarette from his mouth taking a drag. It grinded rough, irritating sand against Steve's conscience. "Why do you always do that?" he snapped.
"Do what?" she inquired.
"Take whatever I'm smoking, eating, drinking take a piece of it or smoke it then give it back!" he raved.
"You really want to know?" she inquired, leaning closer to him.
He leaned in to meet her nose to nose. She was so close it would take just a few more inches and he could conquer that smirking, sarcastic mouth of hers. And when he connected with her dark brown eyes he couldn't help but stare into them, he wanted to be lost in them. At the moment, he was finding no excuse to even try and escape their black abyss. Did he really want to know? "Yes."
"Because," she stood and the trance was gone. She leaned into an ear, like some sort of vixen walking Sutton street. "You make it taste better."
His eyes widened to swallow his face and he looked around at her as she walked down the hallway to the bathroom. With no one in the room left to make a smirk remark to, Steve made an estranged face, astonished and admonishing, asked the air, "I make it -taste- better?"
*
Ponyboy raised his eyebrows at his brother's best friend and his most faithful editor when he got home from school. Normally Steve and Cedar would have been vocally abusing each other by now, but they were silent. Stoic. He found all of this very amusing. As a fact he knew his new friend found Steve severely attractive, even more so than his own brother.
Exactly how Steve attracted her, Pony did not know. The guy was tall and he had mean eyes. He was too rough for a girl like Cedar, who enjoyed everything that she could see beauty in. So how did she see some kind of dashing handsomeness in Steve? He was a complete ass to her, at least Pony thought they should try and be cordial.
Shrugging the fifteen-year-old opened the fridge and took a chug of the milk. Friday. It was good it was Friday. "Hey would y'all tell Darry I went to the Nightly Double."
Cedar nodded from behind her book and waved him out the door. They sat in further silence until she felt eyes watching her, or rather over her shoulder. She turned her head back to Steve who was reading her book. "Would you get your nose out of my book? Its mine!"
"Naw, it says Tulsa Public Library, sleeping beauty, it's the city of Tulsa's. And as far as I know, since I turned eighteen I've been a citizen of Tulsa. You on the other hand..."
"Get away from me Steve."
"Why?"
She sputtered in her response, "Because you probably can't even read it anyway! And what do you appreciate about books, about art... anyway?!"
"Maybe I appreciate it more than you think," he said as she stood to face him. It was a challenge, it was always was. They were always challenging each other to some sort of danger or another. "When have you really asked me a question worth anything Cedar?"
She looked around in his eyes and for once found a half-sincerity. It was still laced with sarcasm to taunt her, as if she were insignificant for never inquiring. "You wouldn't answer me if I did!"
"Maybe I would."
"I don't believe you."
"Then don't blame me sister."
"I ain't your sister."
"I know you ain't. Its an expression, sweetheart."
"And I ain't that either! Quit it with your expressions!" she raved at a hiss. "Do you just like making me go off like this? And I have had a decent conversation with you! And I've asked you a question worth answering... Nevermind it wasn't a question!"
Steve clenched his jaw. "Why d'ya like to get me uppity with your uppity- ness?"
"You do it yourself and drag me along for the ride!" she fumed, walking into the kitchen, throwing out eggs and sausage. "Quit following me."
"Its no more your house than it is mine, sugar," he only used it because he knew she hated it the very most of any of his names for her, which were sheer sarcasm in themselves.
She turned around from the cupboard and he had two hands on each side of the linoleum counter. Her figure stood stark still and he could feel her heart beating faster. She was scared of him... that's what it looked like at any rate. Trapped by his body, Cedar could feel the heat in her body rising and tears too for something she knew she could never have, only because he'd never have her. And even if he would have had her, society would look down on it. Even people in the West looked down upon it, and this was Oklahoma for God's sake. It would be worse, no doubt. He was white. She was Navajo. Things like this just didn't work. She wanted it to work, but it never would. They just couldn't get along. It was plain and simple.
"Steve. Move," her plump lip quivered.
"Why are you so interested in my life all of a sudden?"
.-*-.
A.N. Hee-hee. I have to go play with my dogs. So close but no cigar. ^_^ I think I'll wrap it up in the next three chapters... maybe! R & R! Ja ne!