Athour's Note: I wrote this really early in the morning about four a.m. to be exact so any typos or errors please forgive me. I was tired and I just needed to type a whole bunch. Enjoy
Chapter 4:
It was going on nine p.m. when I eventually stepped onto my front porch. The ol' man's car wasn't parked in the driveway, which I assumed meant he wasn't home. Sometimes he'd leave it and walk five or six blocks drunker than a skunk and the next day have to go out looking for it. Only my dad could forget where he placed his car.
The metal key slipped into the locked with a smooth clicking sound before I let myself in. Darkness attacked my battered body. Although in the black I couldn't see more than a foot in front of my face, I knew that the living room and every other room for that matter was probably littered with beer bottles. The hard wood of the coffee tables could no longer be seen because of cigarette ashes that had never been cleaned off and there wasn't even a floor anymore.
Carpets had been stained and ripped, chairs were covered with cigarette holes from the many a times my ol'man had fallen asleep with a cancer stick in his mouth. He'd nearly burned our house down, with me in it for that matter. That was the main reason the living room smelt as bad as it did. Not just from all the tobacco and alcohol but also from the chard wood and melted plastic. I never could get that smell out of the house. It had burned six months ago, yet every time you stepped inside the room still smelt as bad as the first time it had caught fire.
Upstairs, my room lay quiet and untouched. I'd made my bed a week ago Monday and since then hadn't slept in it once. I rarely came home and when I did it was only to grab a change of clothes or to sleep there. About two or three times a week did I ever go home at all. The reason for this was my ol' man who I mentioned earlier and who I couldn't stand. My mother had died when I was just eight but during those eight years I'd witnessed a lot. Beatings, both verbal and physical and enough tears to fill the Nile. I haven't cried since I was eight. When I was little I would hide away in the crawl space of our house, because mom and dad never knew we had one and the yelling started that was where I'd stay. One night in September a few days after school had started my mom went out to the grocery store to pick up some potatoes and milk. That was the last night I ever saw her. I knew she loved me, but she must have wanted her freedom more. After that I only cried a few times. I've learnt to be tough, it was hard but hanging around seven guys helped a lot.
I shook the thoughts of old memories from my head and went to pack enough stuff to last me a few nights. A dusty ruby red suitcase began to fill with clothes, a brush, two pairs of shoes and other items as the night went on. By nine thirty I'd packed my belongings and changed from a ratty dress and coat into some cutoff jean shorts and a white blouse that tied up just above the stomach. I coated my lips with a bit of pale pink lip gloss and gave my eyelashes a few combs with some mascara. There was a party at Buck's for ten so I wanted to jazz my image up a bit.
I spun around in front of my bathroom mirror, acting like a twelve year old girl again, going on her first date. This didn't last long though. The smile curled on my lips, the giddiness I'd let out I quickly tucked back inside of me. Red curls fell in front of my face awkwardly until I put them into two messy braids. It still looked nice, just not as nice as I Soc would have them.
"Awe Socials" I laughed to myself. "Can't live with them, can't live without…wait what am I saying. Of course I could live without them."
My pace quickened when I left my house and started for Buck's. The air was cold; blowing bits of gravel at my bare legs yet it was still hot as hell out. It never mattered hot hard the wind blew sometimes it still seemed that you could fry an egg on the cracked cement.
"Doe Mackenzie, the hell are you doing around these parts?" I saw a stumbling Sodapop make his way towards me, Steve slipping and sliding not too far behind him. I swear they must have been separated at birth.
"Yeah" Steve slurred. "Shouldn't you be on the East side with all the other Soc's?"
"I'll show you Soc Steve Randle. You call me that one more time I'll carve the word all over that greasy body of yours" and just too prove I wasn't joking, I pulled out my blade from my shorts pocket. It was almost identical to Two-bits, except I hadn't lifted it. He'd lifted it for me when I'd been eleven and I'd gotten jumped real bad. Mac was carved on the side of the black handle.
"You know you wouldn't hurt us lil greaser, right?" Sodapop put on his charm, the one that made the girls faint but when he was that drunk he could never quite pull it off.
"Does Darry know your wondering around at all hours completely wasted?" I asked him, with only a hint of concern. It was of course a school night and even if he didn't attend school anymore Darry still never let him leave the house. Not on a weeknight anyhow.
"Course he knows." Steve winked in my direction and lost his balance, falling face forward onto the sidewalk.
"Jeez Steve, do I have to carry you now?" Sodapop laughed before he himself fell, only a meter away from me I might add. The drunken bastard almost took me down with him.
"Guys, get your asses off the ground and get home" I commanded. They didn't budge, just continued their laughing. "That's it. I'm not waiting around all night you know that right?" Laughter was the response. I went to leave, but my conscious which I'm surprised I have took the better of me and I ended up hauling the both of them to their feet.
"Lets go girls" I laughed, gripping each one by their arms and leading them back down the sidewalk towards the Curtis'. Going back there hadn't been my plan, it was party night but knowing Darry he'd kill me if he knew that I'd seen Soda and hadn't made him go home. Steve, could have stayed out for all I cared and I would have let him but it seemed like he could use the rest.
"Awe come on Doe, let us stay out a few more hours" Steve whined.
"Randle…"
"Why you gotta be so mean" Sodapop tried tugging out of my hand.
"Soda, I will smack you if I hafta. You want that?" He shook his head, no. "Steve?"
"What!" he yelled. I cupped him roughly upside the head. "Hey!"
"That's what."
I pulled the door to the Curtis house open and pushed the two of them inside. Pony was standing around the kitchen with Johnny, talking about something, I didn't know what though. I couldn't see Darry, but he must have been home.
"Hey, Pony." He looked up. "Tell Darry to watch these two okay? And he better thank me for personally walking them home too."
I waved a quick goodbye to him and gave Johnny a quick kiss on the cheek. He blushed and gave me a short hug. Its was so lifeless that it was barely anything at all. If I ever got a hold of his folks, I'd kill them. Not because they beat him and made him feel unwelcome in his own damn house, but because they'd changed him into a scared heap of bruised flesh with greasy hair. The run in with the Soc's a while back hadn't helped either. I'd jumped one for doing that to poor Johnny too. Dallas had been watching me from just down the street and when I pulled out my blade he finally dragged me away from the Soc, cussing me out the entire time because I would probably start a rumble or something. Never happened and on the plus side I'd gotten my revenge.
"Bye."
I ran, faster than I ever have in my life. My feet never slowed down until I landed with a hard thud on Buck's lawn. Wheezing and panting, I sucked in the much needed air. Hank Williams played loudly from inside the house. After my short rest, I was up again and inside. Within minutes I had begun mingling with fellow greasers and greasettes. I circulated about the room about a dozen times, breathing in the second hand smoke and hair grease. A group of hoods including some of the Shepard gang and a few of the Brumly Boys were playing poker in the dining room, if that's even what you'd call it. I stumbled upon the game when I went looking for another beer.
"Hey honey, you lost?" A member of the Shepard gang flashed me a sly grin.
"Do I look lost?" I wrenched the beer out of the fridge and dragged a chair to their table. "Deal me in."
"What?" a Brumly Boy asked. "You ain't playin with us sweety."
I sipped my beer slowly and reached in my back pocket. The cool handle of my switchblade fell into my hands. I smiled and placed it next to my drink for all of them to see.
"Deal me in."
Two cigarettes, seven beers, and me minus five dollars later I got up from the game. Half the guys at the table were out cold and the others didn't even know what was going on. I'd seen Two-bit a few minutes earlier, drunk as usual but now he was no where to be found, so I assumed he had found a blonde.
I was all ready to go back home, to the Curtis' that is but something stopped me. Well, someone actually. A bony fingered dug itself into my left shoulder, poking me for a few seconds straight. Looking behind me I saw Angela Shepard, rum bottle in one hand and a Coke bottle in the other. She leaned forward, alcohol emanating from every part of her body so strong that I began to cough.
"Hear my brothers beat the shit out of you" she laughed and took a sip of her rum then from her Coke.
"I hear that rash of yours still hasn't cleared. How bout that huh?" She shot me a glare and tossed the Coke bottle to the ground. It shattered in front of us as the dark fizz began to soak into the brown carpet. Luckily we hadn't attracted a crowd yet. The Hank Williams music was just too loud for anyone to hear us. Most of Buck's friends had been deafened from the music anyhow.
"You sure got a sharp tongue for such a fat ass cow."
"What the hell are you doing here anyway Angel. Shouldn't you be working on the corner of Sutton, you know earning some money for your good for nothing brothers."
Angela's eyes widened.
"Greasy good for nothing bitch!" she screamed. She moved fast for a drunk, faster than I expected. Course, I wasn't the most sober person either. Angela stepped forward and with a quick hand movement managed to crack her rum bottle against my left shoulder. At least I'd been able to slide a few feet away, otherwise it would have been my head that broke the bottle. As soon as the glass fell in pieces around us I was pushing her to the ground. Angela Shepard was a good fighter but not now she wasn't. I slugged her a few times, and for the hell of it scratched her right above the left eye, hopping it would leave a scar.
"Get off me!' she cried out. Her body jerked around beneath mine, squirming about wildly. An elbow connected with my chin and a few slugs met with my face but that was all she could muster. We'd only been going at it for five minutes when a rough set of hands dragged me from a bloody Angela Shepard.
"Mac, lets go." It was Two-bit. I didn't need to look behind me to know, because he was the only one who ever called me Mac. He shoved me forward, trying to make my feet move when I wouldn't. I saw one of Tim's friends helping Angela stand back up. Her knees buckled uneasily under her weight.
"Ass…" my voice trailed off.
"Come on." Two-bit took hold of me by the arm and led me out of Buck's.
We walked back to the Curtis' in silence, only because we were both starting to feel the booze catch up with us. I thanked Matthews for walking me there even though he didn't have to and then plopped myself down into the unoccupied couch inside. What a night, was my last thought before I past out.