A Warning from Dallas
"Don't," I said, "tell the cops anything."
They nodded and looked so scared. Hell, I'd be scared ,too. It was a system, the jails, prisons, courts. I'd hate to be a little fish swept up in that huge current.
I wavered, just a bit. Examined my motives. Winning this case could be phenomenal for my fledgling career but was it best for those boys to turn themselves in?
Of course it was, they couldn't hide forever.
"I want to talk to you," Dallas said, his voice low and smooth and I felt the tiny hairs on the back of my neck tingle.
"Ponyboy and Johnny, you stay here," he said to them, and they looked at each other with identical expressions of concern.
"By the car," Dallas said, and pointed, his voice getting rougher.
I started to feel the way I would before exams in school, a free floating anxiety.
"I don't think they should go back," Dallas said, leaning against my car. His weird blue eyes were boring into me. I felt pierced by his gaze and hoped any display of nerves would not be noticed.
"I think it's the best="
"Well, what the hell do you know?" The vehemence in his voice took me aback.
"You don't understand how it is. He killed a fuckin' soc. Him, a low life greaser. That's how it is. We're the scum of the city and if you think you can get him off just cause his old man hits him..." He trailed off, shook his head, looked beyond me at the church.
"I got them this hang out, this hide out, and you want them to just go back?" I had thought Dallas might hit me. He looks close to hitting people or things, but I wasn't worried now. I didn't care in a way. I wanted to hear this. I wanted to hear what the stakes were, as these kids saw it.
"And those two fucking stuck up little soc bitches at the movies? You think they'll testify for Ponyboy and Johnny? No fucking way, man. Johnny killed her goddamn boyfriend, she'll be glad to see him hang for that little stunt,"
Dallas lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and exhaled the smoke in a slow steady stream. Then he looked at me, right into my eyes.
"And what is it to you? You lose this case, so fucking what? But for Johnny, he could get the electric chair for this,"
"And Ponyboy," Dallas continued, "him and Soda could get thrown in some boys' home,"
"Why Soda? He didn't do anything," I said this as sort of a distraction, I could see his fist just itching to connect with some part of my anatomy but also out of genuine curiosity. Soda hadn't done anything, had he?
Dallas looked at me sharply, pitched the cigarette toward the dirt road.
"Their parents are dead. Darry has custody," Darry, Darrel, the oldest brother. Oh boy. But already I could see the jurors melting in sympathy for him.
My mind began to wander. Jury. Jury selection. I'd drop off these kids at the police station and then chill out at a bar, maybe call my mentor, a wizard of a lawyer out of Oklahoma City, Clyde Ellingsworth, and we could bang out a stragedy...
And quick like a cobra Dallas reached out and circled my neck with one hand, I was pinned against the car.
He wasn't hurting me, exactly. I was breathing faster and staring at him. I could hear my heart beating.
"You fuck this up for them and I will fucking kill you,"
He let me go as suddenly as he had grabbed me and I gasped, felt my neck gingerly with my fingertips. Dallas had headed back toward the church and dissappeared behind it before my breathing returned to normal.
"Don't," I said, "tell the cops anything."
They nodded and looked so scared. Hell, I'd be scared ,too. It was a system, the jails, prisons, courts. I'd hate to be a little fish swept up in that huge current.
I wavered, just a bit. Examined my motives. Winning this case could be phenomenal for my fledgling career but was it best for those boys to turn themselves in?
Of course it was, they couldn't hide forever.
"I want to talk to you," Dallas said, his voice low and smooth and I felt the tiny hairs on the back of my neck tingle.
"Ponyboy and Johnny, you stay here," he said to them, and they looked at each other with identical expressions of concern.
"By the car," Dallas said, and pointed, his voice getting rougher.
I started to feel the way I would before exams in school, a free floating anxiety.
"I don't think they should go back," Dallas said, leaning against my car. His weird blue eyes were boring into me. I felt pierced by his gaze and hoped any display of nerves would not be noticed.
"I think it's the best="
"Well, what the hell do you know?" The vehemence in his voice took me aback.
"You don't understand how it is. He killed a fuckin' soc. Him, a low life greaser. That's how it is. We're the scum of the city and if you think you can get him off just cause his old man hits him..." He trailed off, shook his head, looked beyond me at the church.
"I got them this hang out, this hide out, and you want them to just go back?" I had thought Dallas might hit me. He looks close to hitting people or things, but I wasn't worried now. I didn't care in a way. I wanted to hear this. I wanted to hear what the stakes were, as these kids saw it.
"And those two fucking stuck up little soc bitches at the movies? You think they'll testify for Ponyboy and Johnny? No fucking way, man. Johnny killed her goddamn boyfriend, she'll be glad to see him hang for that little stunt,"
Dallas lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and exhaled the smoke in a slow steady stream. Then he looked at me, right into my eyes.
"And what is it to you? You lose this case, so fucking what? But for Johnny, he could get the electric chair for this,"
"And Ponyboy," Dallas continued, "him and Soda could get thrown in some boys' home,"
"Why Soda? He didn't do anything," I said this as sort of a distraction, I could see his fist just itching to connect with some part of my anatomy but also out of genuine curiosity. Soda hadn't done anything, had he?
Dallas looked at me sharply, pitched the cigarette toward the dirt road.
"Their parents are dead. Darry has custody," Darry, Darrel, the oldest brother. Oh boy. But already I could see the jurors melting in sympathy for him.
My mind began to wander. Jury. Jury selection. I'd drop off these kids at the police station and then chill out at a bar, maybe call my mentor, a wizard of a lawyer out of Oklahoma City, Clyde Ellingsworth, and we could bang out a stragedy...
And quick like a cobra Dallas reached out and circled my neck with one hand, I was pinned against the car.
He wasn't hurting me, exactly. I was breathing faster and staring at him. I could hear my heart beating.
"You fuck this up for them and I will fucking kill you,"
He let me go as suddenly as he had grabbed me and I gasped, felt my neck gingerly with my fingertips. Dallas had headed back toward the church and dissappeared behind it before my breathing returned to normal.
