.....................................Two bit

I had decided to put Keith "Two bit" Matthews on the stand but not Dallas. They'd crucify Dallas on the cross examination. He haunted me, though. Sitting in the back of the courtroom, staring at everything with his dead blue eye gaze.

Keith sat there on the stand, the humor that Ponyboy, Johnny, and Dallas had informed me was such a part of his personality twinkling in his eyes. And I noticed a nearly imperceptible easing of Johnny's tension, with his friend on the stand. I allowed myself a quick smile to acknowledge that.

"Mr. Matthews, on the night of October 14 you met up with Johnny Cade and Ponyboy Curtis at the drive in movie theater, correct?"

"Yeah, yep,"

"Could you describe what happened when you left the movie theater?"

He bit his top lip and looked up, thinking.

"Well, we left with these two soc girls they had picked up," he looked right at Johnny and I could have sworn he was about to wink at him. I doubted my wisdom of putting him on the stand. But I wanted to hammer it home to this jury again and again that Robert and his friends were drunk, and looking for a fight.

"So we were walking toward my house when a blue mustang full of socs pulls up, two of 'em hop out and start threatening us..."

"Was one of the two 'socs' who threatened you Robert Sheldon?"

"Yeah,"

"No further questions,"

............................................Kind of Backwards

I noticed in the courtroom Dallas, of course. Dallas was becoming the only constant in my life, in a strange way. The only thing I could count on. I couldn't count on my witnesses doing what I wanted, the jury seeing things the way I wanted them to. Even Johnny. Sometimes he was responsive but some days his mood was so black that I was surprised he hadn't sliced his wrists with some jagged shard of glass or metal the night before. Only Dallas, his presence like a rock in the courtroom. No wonder Johnny idolized him.

So Dallas was there but the Curtis' were not. The other kid, Steve? He wasn't there, either. Mrs. Sheldon was there and she still had daggers for Johnny.

Johnny, as I said, was in slightly better spirits owing to Two bit's presence. But I saw Johnny's mother in the courtroom, her eyes eerily similar to his. I hoped he wouldn't see her.

The prosecutor, smug smiley faced attorney, rose slowly to cross exam my witness. I felt the dread twist my stomach, I actually felt my stomach lining twist and curl in unnatural ways.

"Mr. Matthews," he began, his voice a slow honey drawl, "have you ever been arrested?"

"Objection!" I knew the objection was useless but I had to try.

"Irrelevant," I said.

"Your Honor," the prosecutor said, "I am attempting to shed light on this witness' credibility," I sighed.

"Overruled. You may proceed," the judge said.

He asked the question again.

"Yeah, a few times,"

"For what reasons?"

Keith did not look distressed by the nature of these questions, rather, he looked amused and almost proud.

"Well, let's see," he said slowly, scanning the ceiling almost as though his police record was written up there. And he began to list off reasons.

"Shoplifting, a 'course, it's sort of a talent of mine," I raised heavy eyes to him, mouthed 'cut it out.' He didn't seem to notice.

"Fighting, y'know sometimes the fuzz show. What can ya do?" He smiled good naturedly and shrugged. I wanted to strangle him.

"Breakin' the windows in the school building. I did that twice but only got busted for it once. One time Dal took the sentence," I sighed.

"Dal?" The prosecutor said with a smirk, "are you referring to Dallas Winston?" Oh, God.

"Yeah,"

"Does Mr. Cade associate with Dallas Winston?"

"Yeah,"

"Is this the same Dallas Winston who was arrested at 10 for stealing a car, arrested at 12 for robbing a house, arrested at 13, 14, 15, 16, and 17 for public brawling, assault and battery, and public drunkenness?"

"Objection," I said calmly, knowing it would do no good, "The police record of Dallas Winston has nothing whatsoever to do with my client,"

"Your Honor," the prosecutor countered in his smooth voice, "I wish to establish the type of people Mr. Cade associates with,"

"Overruled," the judge said, resting his head on his hand. Jesus Christ.

"Is this the same Dallas Winston?"

"Yeah, sure is," Two bit said, looking proud of Dallas. I glanced at Johnny. He didn't look upset about this. Probably he didn't realize how bad his friends looked to the jury. It was funny, I thought, how Johnny's life was kind of backward. These hoodlums and criminals, people most people feared, looked out for him, were his family, really. Whereas his parents, the people who were supposed to love and look out for him, didn't. They left him to fend for himself. No wonder he couldn't tell what the jury would think.