Thump. Thump. Thump. Dallas leaned against the building, one foot kicking lazily at the wall, from time to time. The weather had worsened, the grayness settling from the sky downward. It was cold, but Dallas didn't notice or care.
He stared straight ahead as the side door opened. Footsteps crunched across the grass, and Dal felt a presence lean against the wall next to him.
"Thought I might find you out here."
No response.
"You have the whole family concerned. You've been gone for quite a while."
"Been busy," Dallas finally replied.
"With what?" he asked gently.
"Been thinkin'" Dallas still stared out, gazing at the flat plains stretched out before him. Funny, the landscape had never seemed so desolate before. But there was nothing, just plains, no hills, mountains, just plains that stretched for miles.
"Thinkin," the preacher nodded his head knowingly. "Yeah, most of us have been doing a lot of that lately."
Dal glanced down at his feet. "I'm to blame," he said softly.
The preacher said nothing.
"I was the reason she ran off. I pushed her way," he laughed bitterly.
"You didn't know what would happen," preach countered.
"I should've. I should've known not to stay with them. I shoulda gotten away, away from everybody. I only hurt people," Dallas reached down and picked up a pebble. As if proving his point, he hurled it at the stray cat that was wandering about. The cat scurried off with a "yoww" of annoyance.
"Good aim," the preacher commented.
Dallas smiled slightly.
The preacher studied the boy in front of him curiously. The greaser shifted, feeling the stare. "You only hurt people? All I've seen is a kid who hit a cat, and who thinks he hurt a girl."
The greaser vigorously shook his head even as the preacher finished his sentence. "No," he sighed. "No, I've hurt more. I killed my best friend." Belatedly, Dallas shut his mouth. Darn it, how could I be so stupid?
The old man's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't comment.
A voice started speaking, talking about Johnny, the fire, his death, and Dal was shocked to discover it was his own. His voice was different, softer, quieter, and he barely recognized it. The greaser jerked himself to a stop, midsentence...in the hospital room.
"You didn't kill him."
"I left him at the movie, I told him to go to the church, I didn't stop him from going into the fire, I didn't pull him out in time," a voice now bitter with self-loathing and accusation.
"I pushed Carly down, I yelled at her, I made her run off. I killed them both."
"Carly's not dead, Dallas. You have got to keep on believing and praying," the preacher quickly responded, hoping to get Dallas off of his train of thought.
But he turned to the wrong subject. "Pray? You think I should pray? To who? That god of yours? Where was that God when Johnny was dying, where was He when Carly was getting run over? Don't talk to me about your God, mister." He jerked off the wall, and strode several feet away.
The preacher just shook his head. "God's everywhere, Dallas." When the greaser said nothing he sighed. "Well, I'm going to pray for Carly."
"You do that." Dallas didn't turn around.
The preacher took the hint, and wearily pushed himself up off the wall he had been leaning against, and lugged his body back to the doorway. There he paused, and turned around. "I'm going to pray for Carly. Carly has the Lord as her Savior; I know, I baptized her last year. I'll pray for her, Dallas, but I'm going to pray for you. Right now, you need the prayers more than she does."
Dallas didn't move. Didn't move after the door had swung back after the preacher went back inside. Didn't move for a long time.
xxxxxx
Pony wandered the streets, alternately kicking the soda cans and just plain shuffling his feet. He was annoyed at himself. Darry's gonna skin me alive for this one.
He had run off again. Just after what had happened with him and Johnny, he had still run off. Pony was smart enough to realize the idiocy of his actions.
But, he still didn't want to go back. Not yet. Something was still driving him on, not wanting him to go home and face his brother's wrath just yet.
He shuffled on, staring at his feet. So it was a surprise to him when he looked up and found a wall directly in front of his nose.
It was the side of a building. Looked kinda familiar, too. Ponboy walked around to the front. The sign on the front nearly made him jump.
He couldn't believe it. He was at the church he and Johnny used to go to. How in the world did he come to end up here? He hadn't been to the church for quite a while. Curiosity overcame him. He wanted to know what if it was still as he remembered it, even though it hadn't been that long. But in his grief-stricken mind, anything before Johnny's death was ages ago, another lifetime. Before he knew it he had opened the doors and slipped inside.
Pony slipped into the back pew, hidden by the shadows. Nobody was around. He sat silently in the dark, with an odd feeling of déjà vu. He had sat in this exact pew for who knew how many times with Johnny. Sitting and listening quietly to the preacher preach his sermon. Getting up and singing the songs as happily and unobtrusively as any other church goer there. That was, until they had brought Soda, Steve, and Two-Bit along. What a mistake that had been. For the first time since that event had happened, Pony gave a little smile.
The smile faded fast. He didn't know why he had come in here. Johnny was gone, and this place just brought back too many memories. The two of them sitting here, the one time that they could forget about being greasers, at least halfway forget. Then later, the times when they were alone and the two of them had pondered the sermon's meaning. Johnny had been the only one Pony could really talk to.
And now Johnny was gone. And Dallas was gone! It wasn't fair! Life wasn't fair! Pony punched the pew in front of him in frustration, the force of which picked the pew up several inches and then it dropped down with a thud. The sound reverberated throughout the chapel.
Pony jerked back, ashamed of his actions. This was a church, he shouldn't be messing with anything, he shouldn't even be in here. He got up to examine the pew, hoping he hadn't hurt it. He glanced down into the pew, and it was then he saw the book lying there. The Bible. He took his hand, and reverently traced the gold lettering with his finger.
His finger finished tracing, but remained poised in midair. Slowly he lifted it up to the back of the wooden bench. His finger started to trace letters, as if by its own accords. His finger slowly, agonizingly traced the letters, D....a....l....l....a....
Pony stopped. Lord, please. Palllease. He hadn't prayed for a long time. Lord, help him. Bring him home. The gang needs him. I need him. He needs us. Please, please. His mouth moved silently with the words, and he continued to repeat the phrase over and over again. Please, Lord, please. He whispered it. "Please." He looked back down, and finally traced the last letter. ....s.
"Please."
xxxxxx
Man, guys, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this long break between updates. But oh well. Just a couple more chapters to go though.
MissLKid- You know something really strange? I finished writing that last chapter late at night, and then that night, I dreamed that you were the first person to review. And then the next morning, got up, looked at my e-mails, and there was your review, first one! Weird, huh? Hope by now your cold is okay!
Banana4422- Still no word on Carly. Sorry. Stay tuned for next chapter, you'll get to see Carly's death scene, ahemm, ahemm, I mean... well, just stay tuned. )
ERMonkey, Burner of Cookies- Ooh, I know what you mean. Last Friday, all of my hometown high schools had games going on, two of our schools competing against each other. The entire town was deserted, all out at the football fields. Sorry again about the long stretch between chappies.
Scarlett7- Little scary last chapter you just put up! Can't wait to read about that visitor. Thanks for all the support, you've really helped me with this story. Glad you liked that chapter. See ya later!
nighttime writer- Hey, speaking terms is still better than no speaking terms.
Tensleep- Thanks for those compliments. And hey, you didn't promise your brothers good food right, just food. So they shouldn't complain. If they want good food, tell them to make it themselves. )
Cinderbrat- Aww, I don't care about your login. Hey, hey, they didn't murder a kid, it was self-defense. I mean come on, we're supposed to be on Johnny's and Pony's side. You don't say they murdered Bob. )
steves-girl- Thanks for all three reviews. Glad you like it so far. Yeah, you're not the author, that's true, but I do listen to my reviewers, that's where I've gotten some of my ideas for this story! But the ending is already set in my mind, so if someone dies, they die. Nothing can change that. Sorry. Thanks for the review! )
Oh, congratulations to the Boston Red Sox for their lift of the curse. My condolences to any Cardinal fans, I feel for you. I must confess that I was rooting for the Cardinals, mainly because I wanted the Sox to lose until the 100th anniversary of the Curse of the Bambino. But, a lunar eclipse, I guess I can accept that. And I think, around 86 years since the last World Series win? Close enough.
Oooh, I am going to be nervous tonight. If you don't know why, you obviously haven't been listening to the news. ) I'm praying my guy wins. He has to win.
Well, I just realized that I did not end the last chapter! I'm so sorry. So I'll do it twice.
Please read and review, people. Have a great day!
Please read and review, people. And have an awesome day, or night, whichever!