Ponyboy

After awhile sitting there and blushing…you know, real tuff looking stuff…we ended up pulling out books and not working on our paper. I had the presence of mind to take the list and put it into my notebook. So it ended up at home with me. I was looking it over, with growing desperation—for none of this stuff could make a good paper—When Soda came into the room and flopped onto the bed. I was expecting him to hassle me about going to bed or something, but when it had been about ten minutes without him talking or banging around I had to turn around. I expecting to see him passed out or something, but he was staring at the ceiling….something I'd never seen him do.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Airplanes."

"Why?"

"I'm sure I don't know. But they are interesting. How do they fly?" He turned his head and waited for my answer.

"I don't know, Soda."

"What good is all that book learning if they don't teach you about airplanes? I think airplanes are important."

I couldn't tell you why, but I thought what he said was funny, and started laughing. "If they started teaching a class about airplanes, would you come back to school?"

"Nah, I was just thinking about it lately. Come to bed."

Sodapop

Another day at the DX and I am in no mood. Steve is trying to chisel apart some melded together tractor engine and I am pretending to be interested in the car I am looking at. "Well, it looks like you were due for an oil change about 3000 miles ago." I looked up at the gentleman in his tie, who was looking very upset at this news.

"How am I supposed to know when the thing needs to be serviced?" I tapped the static sticker on the windshield.

"This should have the date you need an oil change stated on it," I wiped my forehead with my rag and explained to him that he would need some more serious work due to the damage of running a car without oil. He left in a very bad mood, and I thought about how "mystery loves company," or some such thing….Upon thinking about it, I decided that isn't how the saying goes. I was still trying to figure it out when the boss set me free for the afternoon.

As I walked home, I kept my hand in my coveralls, fingering the blade I keep there. My hair kept hanging in my eyes, and I was sweating it up. It seemed the more I moved the more angry I got. I started chewing the stick of gum Steve gave me that morning in violent chomps. When I got home I kicked off my boots forcefully, and poured myself a tall glass of chocolate milk. After the third drink I got up and ripped off my coveralls. I was chilling in my shorts and a sweaty t-shirt…trying to pin-point at what time I had gotten so ill-tempered. I took another drink of my chocolate milk, and decided it was just one of those days.

I was still thinking about this, when I heard the door open. I turned a menacing glare at the door. Ponyboy didn't meet it though, he was working on kicking my boots out of the doorway. He moved further into the room and the full unfriendliness of my look was pinned onto the girl who followed him in. Whoops, that would be Kitty.

She looked hurt for a second and then like she might laugh. "Nice shorts."

Ponyboy looked over at me and I thought he might laugh, he opted to look embarrassed instead. I got up, thanked her sarcastically and went into the bedroom. I stayed there for ten minutes after putting on my pants, so that it would appear I had better things to do then chill in the living room, then I went back out. They were sitting on the floor together, pouring over a notebook or something and didn't even notice me. Well I did not just spent ten minutes alone to be ignored. So I went over to the table and moved things around in an agitated sort of way….making lots of noise. All that seemed to provoke was Pony excusing himself to go to the bathroom.

Kitty looked at me after he left and asked if something was wrong.

"No one pays attention to me, that's what's wrong." I set my empty glass down hard to accent my words.

She turned her head to one side and then laughed. "Well, you have my attention now, what do you want?"

"Draw me a picture." I don't know how I think of these things, but she didn't seem to think it was an odd request. She got up and came over to the table.

"What kind of picture?"

"I want an airplane." She sat across from me, grabbed a paper napkin and sketched out a fast looking fighter. When she finished it she slid it across to me. "That's great."

"What do you want an airplane for?" She was fidgeting with her pen, and looking around the room, as though she hadn't noticed she was there until just now.

"They're tuff."

"Yeah, well, that kind, there, kills people." I looked down at it. "Why are you so upset today?" I'm not sure why, but her telling me that the plane in her drawing kills people sort of drained all of my bad mood out of me. I shrugged and said I wasn't in a bad mood anymore. She looked at me, and I looked at her. She reached out and put her index finger on the napkin. She must have slid it with her finger, because it hit me in the chest. She never looked away, and I couldn't either.

She stuck her tongue out at me. I laughed and picked the napkin out of my lap. Ponyboy came back into the room, and she got up to join him on the floor.

I took my napkin back to the bedroom and taped it to the wall. I looked at it for a minute before leaving. I closed my eyes and could hear her telling me they kill people. I opened them and squinted at the picture. I wondered if she had purposefully left the plane un-manned. That kind, there, kills people. I decided she did.