CHAPTER 3
"What time do you get off work, Steve?" Jay asked me as we walked down the sidewalk to Soda's place.
"Uh… around four, I think. That okay?" I asked looking into my brother's soft grey eyes.
"Yup, that's fine. I might go home an hour before you come home, okay? I don't really feel so hot today. Plus, the monster from hell won't be home until five or six, so I have nothing to worry about," he told me with a smile.
I nodded and looked ahead of me. "Oh goody… just what I need right now…" I muttered and looked at Jay. He was as white as a sheet and his eyes were wide. He looked like he was seeing a ghost, he was so frightened.
"Steve, those are the guys that jumped me…" Jay squeaked.
The socs came closer and I stood protectively in front of my little brother. "What do you guys want now? Huh?" I hardened my expression and glared at the leader of the pack. "Look, we don't want any trouble, you hear? You already caused enough trouble as it is."
I could feel Jay tighten his grip on the back of my DX shirt, and he looked over my shoulder, you could see the fear growing in his eyes. "What are they going to do?" he whispered so only I could hear what he said.
"I don't know," I admitted in a low tone. "Nothing, I hope."
"Hey, look what we got us here? Two sleezeball greaser brothers," the leader said, and the rest of them laughed. I counted and got five all together. It's gunna be hard getting out of this one… not to mention, they're drunk, which makes it ten times worse.
"Look, man, we don't need any trouble, got it? We're just heading to town," I lied. Well, actually that was partly true. I was heading into to town to go to work, but Jay was staying at the Curtis' with Pony and Johnny.
"You're not going anywhere," he said, flipping out a switchblade. Crap, they're armed… now, that ain't fair.
"Oh yes, I think we are," I said trying to get out of the circle they had formed around us. Okay, cars were just whipping past us… doesn't anyone wonder what the hell's going on here? Or do they even give a shit? For the first time in my life, I wished the fuzz would bloody well come and see what the hell's going on. I just wanted my brother out of there, safe, so he could be in a safe spot and I could be at work. I didn't want to put up with this right now.
I flipped out my own switchblade, getting frustrated, and said, "Fine. I'll fight until I get out of this damn circle of blond-headed-monkeys, you fools. Just leave Jay out this, got it? If I see anyone laying a finger on my kid brother, I'm going to slaughter you where you stand." And that was a threat I was aiming to keep. I really was going to kill someone if they tried to beat on my little brother. He's had enough as it is. He didn't earn to be beat on anymore.
They nodded, but glared at me. I don't care. Glare at me all you want, you bastards, 'cause those glares you're giving me right now, are going to be shoved up your sorry asses once I'm through with you.
"Leave the circle, Jay," I commanded, keeping my eyes on the socs.
"But, Steve-"
"Just go. I'll be okay," I assured him.
He gave me a worried look and reluctantly left. I sighed, and held up my switch, getting into a fighting position, the hand with the switch held out slightly, and bending my knees, feet spread apart. The socs got into their fighting stances and something gleamed in the corner of my eye. Turning my head slightly, I saw a beer bottle lying on the edge of the sidewalk. I grinned looking around. Jay was nowhere in sight. He probably went to the Curtis' to get Soda or Darry, or whoever's there right now.
The socs looked at me venomously and one took a strike, fast as a viper. Dodging it, I leaned over, picked up the beer bottle, smashing the end as I brought it up and counter attacked. The soc that took a strike at me backed away, and another tried to attack me. He cut my arm a little, but nothing big. I took the beer bottle and whipped it around at the guy, making him back out a little, but he didn't leave.
"Kill him!" I heard the leader scream, and someone took his knife and cut me across the back. Yelling in pain, I dropped to my knees, holding my back with my hand that held the bottle.
One of the socs gripped my hair, jerking my head back and placing his knife against my throat. The rest of them laughed or smiled dangerously as they watched their friend slide the knife across my throat slowly. They were teasing me, waiting for the right moment. Just then I heard the sound of crashing footfalls, and I smiled.
"GET AWAY FROM HIM!"
Sodapop! I knew he'd come for me. So, Jay did go to get the gang… smart kid.
The socs looked at the gang, frightened expressions growing across their faces, and ran. Bloody cowards…
"Steve! Are you alright?" Soda asked, worriedly. "Jay said he ran to our house to tell us you were in trouble… you're pretty brave, Randle, taking on five guys at once."
I grinned. "Where's the kid? Is he here?"
"Yup. Jay! Your brother wants to see you," Soda said, and Jay came out from behind the gang.
A tear rolled down his cheek, and he flung his arms around my waist. "I was worried about you Steve… I didn't know what to do at first… my mind was all blank and it wouldn't let me think… I thought you would be dead by the time I figured something out…" he cried.
"Jay, it's alright, I'm fine," I assured him in a gentle tone.
"Yeah?" he pulled away from me and flashed me bloody hand. "You're okay, huh? What happened to your back? 'Cause this doesn't look okay to me!"
"Jay, it's a cut. It's nothing to worry about-"
"Oh?" he took the corner of the back of my shirt and pulled it up, revealing scars. Scars I didn't want him to see. He gasped, stepping backwards, a new set of tears formed in the corners of his eyes. "What… who the hell did this to you? Steve, please tell me…"
"Dad, alright? You know now. Don't worry about it. It's nothing big," I said, trying to calm him down.
"Nothing big! Nothing big! Oh ya, Steve, that's definitely nothing big, when you have those bloody scars running criss-cross all over your friggin back!" he hollered, which he usually doesn't do, and ran down the street.
My eyes widened with sadness and a tear rolled down my cheek. Sodapop looked at me, worriedly, and I looked away.
What have I done?
