Ponyboy and Johnny
Windrixville was the country. I grew up in Boston so I'm used to lots of people, lots of shops, lots of bars, big buildings, close winding streets, cars.
There was nothing here.
Dallas seemed to know where he was going so I didn't question him. I had that vague nervous feeling I get before meeting people who have been somewhat hyped up. I'd read about them in the papers, talked to people about them, but I couldn't let it color my perception.
"Are you sure they'll be there?" I said.
"They'll be there," Dallas didn't look at me, just stared at the road.
The church had once been white but was now a weather beaten wood. It looked like it had been there 100 years and might fall over in a strong wind.
Dallas skidded the car to a screeching halt and we walked across the overgrown field to the church. I saw jack rabbits scurry out of our way.
We walked in and found the two boys asleep on the pews. Everything in the church was crumbling and covered in dust.
They hadn't heard us come in and continued to sleep. They were covered in dust and their clothes looked slept in. One had black hair and a jean jacket, probably Johnny. His mother had black hair. The other one, Ponyboy, had bottle blond hair and was wrapped in an old cracked leather jacket.
Dallas kicked the pew under Johnny and he jumped.
"Huh?" Eyes closed.
"Wake up," Dallas said, and kicked the pew under Ponyboy. He groaned and rolled over.
"Check out the blond hair," Dallas said, ruffling his hair. Ponyboy jerked his head away.
"Don't remind me,"
Johnny was rubbing his eyes and finally focused on Dallas.
"Dally! Are the cops after us, what did you hear, did="
"Did Soda and Darry ask about me? Did="
They both stopped talking and stared at me. They saw me at the same time. Their expressions darkened and both boys glared at me.
"Who's this?" Ponyboy said, and moved closer to Johnny and slightly in front of him. Protective.
"A lawyer," Dallas said.
After introductions, I was right about who was who, they sat on the platform where the sermons were given and I sat on the rotting pew Johnny had been sleeping on. Dallas stood in the doorway, arms folded like a bouncer.
"I've been reading about this incident, talking to some people, and I think I can defend you,"
They both looked suspicious of me and sulky, like delinquent teenagers. I could already see them cleaned up for court. The fact that they looked young would help. The younger and more innocent looking the better. Juries judge a lot by looks. Thank God I wasn't defending Dallas. They'd fry him in a minute. But Johnny may have a chance.
Ponyboy I hoped to get cleared of all charges. As it stood now he was an accomplice to murder. It would be tougher for Johnny. He did kill someone, a rich someone. A rich white someone. Poor choice of a murder victim. The poor killers of rich whites were far more likely to receive the death penalty than other murderers. It wasn't fair, but that is the way it is. Prosecutors go for the death penalty in those cases because they may be able to get it.
But I could be his ace in the hole.
It could be worse. He could have killed a cop. There's hardly any defending that. And he could have a police record, and he could look like a hoodlum, not just a young kid dressed up like one.
"If I defend you you probably won't be tried together. It's rarely done. You'll be tried for different crimes with different possible penalties for those crimes," They looked nervous and fidgety. Johnny wasn't looking at me and biting a fingernail. Ponyboy was staring at me intently and wincing every so often.
"They don't have to. They can stay here," Dallas said. Both boys looked to Dallas when he spoke and seemed comforted at the thought of staying here. Johnny quit biting his nail and Ponyboy's expression lightened.
"You could. You could." I agreed, "It's fine now. But how will it be in the winter? And next year? And the one after that? How will you survive? The police will always be looking for you,"
Johnny chewed on his nail again. Ponyboy sighed.
"If we go back Johnny'll get the electric chair," Ponyboy said, looking directly at me. Johnny looked down and swallowed audibly.
"You have the right to a trial. Juries decide if you're guilty or not guilty. From what I've heard so far these 'socs' came looking for you. So that's good. It puts it more in the area of self defense and not pre meditation. Pre meditation really helps prosecutors to get the death penalty. See, there's homicide and manslaughter."
They sat together on that platform, looking like boys waiting to see the principal.
Windrixville was the country. I grew up in Boston so I'm used to lots of people, lots of shops, lots of bars, big buildings, close winding streets, cars.
There was nothing here.
Dallas seemed to know where he was going so I didn't question him. I had that vague nervous feeling I get before meeting people who have been somewhat hyped up. I'd read about them in the papers, talked to people about them, but I couldn't let it color my perception.
"Are you sure they'll be there?" I said.
"They'll be there," Dallas didn't look at me, just stared at the road.
The church had once been white but was now a weather beaten wood. It looked like it had been there 100 years and might fall over in a strong wind.
Dallas skidded the car to a screeching halt and we walked across the overgrown field to the church. I saw jack rabbits scurry out of our way.
We walked in and found the two boys asleep on the pews. Everything in the church was crumbling and covered in dust.
They hadn't heard us come in and continued to sleep. They were covered in dust and their clothes looked slept in. One had black hair and a jean jacket, probably Johnny. His mother had black hair. The other one, Ponyboy, had bottle blond hair and was wrapped in an old cracked leather jacket.
Dallas kicked the pew under Johnny and he jumped.
"Huh?" Eyes closed.
"Wake up," Dallas said, and kicked the pew under Ponyboy. He groaned and rolled over.
"Check out the blond hair," Dallas said, ruffling his hair. Ponyboy jerked his head away.
"Don't remind me,"
Johnny was rubbing his eyes and finally focused on Dallas.
"Dally! Are the cops after us, what did you hear, did="
"Did Soda and Darry ask about me? Did="
They both stopped talking and stared at me. They saw me at the same time. Their expressions darkened and both boys glared at me.
"Who's this?" Ponyboy said, and moved closer to Johnny and slightly in front of him. Protective.
"A lawyer," Dallas said.
After introductions, I was right about who was who, they sat on the platform where the sermons were given and I sat on the rotting pew Johnny had been sleeping on. Dallas stood in the doorway, arms folded like a bouncer.
"I've been reading about this incident, talking to some people, and I think I can defend you,"
They both looked suspicious of me and sulky, like delinquent teenagers. I could already see them cleaned up for court. The fact that they looked young would help. The younger and more innocent looking the better. Juries judge a lot by looks. Thank God I wasn't defending Dallas. They'd fry him in a minute. But Johnny may have a chance.
Ponyboy I hoped to get cleared of all charges. As it stood now he was an accomplice to murder. It would be tougher for Johnny. He did kill someone, a rich someone. A rich white someone. Poor choice of a murder victim. The poor killers of rich whites were far more likely to receive the death penalty than other murderers. It wasn't fair, but that is the way it is. Prosecutors go for the death penalty in those cases because they may be able to get it.
But I could be his ace in the hole.
It could be worse. He could have killed a cop. There's hardly any defending that. And he could have a police record, and he could look like a hoodlum, not just a young kid dressed up like one.
"If I defend you you probably won't be tried together. It's rarely done. You'll be tried for different crimes with different possible penalties for those crimes," They looked nervous and fidgety. Johnny wasn't looking at me and biting a fingernail. Ponyboy was staring at me intently and wincing every so often.
"They don't have to. They can stay here," Dallas said. Both boys looked to Dallas when he spoke and seemed comforted at the thought of staying here. Johnny quit biting his nail and Ponyboy's expression lightened.
"You could. You could." I agreed, "It's fine now. But how will it be in the winter? And next year? And the one after that? How will you survive? The police will always be looking for you,"
Johnny chewed on his nail again. Ponyboy sighed.
"If we go back Johnny'll get the electric chair," Ponyboy said, looking directly at me. Johnny looked down and swallowed audibly.
"You have the right to a trial. Juries decide if you're guilty or not guilty. From what I've heard so far these 'socs' came looking for you. So that's good. It puts it more in the area of self defense and not pre meditation. Pre meditation really helps prosecutors to get the death penalty. See, there's homicide and manslaughter."
They sat together on that platform, looking like boys waiting to see the principal.
