When Pony Boy and I got home, we should have gotten started on all those chores right off. But, like Pony said, nobody in our
family has ever won anything before. It was a pretty big deal that I had actually won something as valuable as this camera. So,
the two of us opened the camera box and began looking it over.
Pony, of course, being the analytical sort of a guy that he is, started by reading all the instructions and stuff first.
It wasn't too long and he was holding the camera out to me, and telling me how to work it, and what to do.
I took it from him, feeling a little nervous, almost, which was really dumb. I mean, it's just an inanimate object, right? Yeah, but it was a
Leica M4, which, however you want to say it, sounds impressive. And, I was sort of afraid of dropping and breaking it, or something.
Pony Boy was still reading from the manual that was enclosed.
"You're gonna need to buy an electronic flash," he said.
"How come?"
"To take pictures at night," Pony read, "Or to capture fast moving objects."
I was just sort of staring at him, and he looked up at me.
"It sounds complicated," I said.
"We'll figure it out," he said, sounding confident.
"Let's go out and try to take some pictures right now," I suggested.
"You can practice, but it's not gonna do you much good," he said.
"How come?" I demanded.
"No film."
"Oh," I said, and we sort of just sat there, looking at each other.
"You'd think they'd at least put one roll of film in the box for people," Pony complained.
"Yeah," I said. "Let's go back down and get some film right now."
As soon as I said it, we both looked at the clock. It was after 2:30 already, and we had at least two hours
of chores ahead of us to do. And then, more really, because it was Pony's turn to cook supper.
I sighed. "I guess we'll have to wait until tomorrow to get some film."
"We can call Soda," Pony suggested, snapping his fingers. "Maybe he can get some at the drugstore before he
comes home."
"Okay," I said, excited that Pony was as interested in the camera as I was.
So, Pony Boy called down to Buck's, and when Steve answered, Pony had him call Soda to the telephone.
Pony read off to Soda what film it was that he should buy, and then he hung up, looking satisfied.
"Is he gonna get it for us?" I asked.
"Yeah. He wrote it down so he gets the right one," Pony said.
I was in the middle of folding a massive amount of laundry, when I heard a car pulling up out front of the
house.
Pony, by now, was in the kitchen, searching thru the cabinets and trying to figure out what to cook for supper.
"Soda's here!" I yelled to him, and by the time Soda and Steve were coming up the front porch steps, Pony and I
were waiting at the door.
"Did you get it?" I demanded.
"Yeah, did ya?" Pony added.
"I got it, I got it," Soda said, and pulled a small box out of his shirt pocket.
After that, the four of us, (Steve got interested, too) tried to figure out how to load the film into the camera.
"Okay," Pony said, "I'll read it off and somebody else do it-"
"Go on, Junie," Soda told me. "It's your camera."
"You do it this time," I told Soda. "I want to watch you do it."
"Okay," he said.
"Alright," Pony Boy began, "You've got to take off the bottom plate first-"
"What, this?" Soda asked, and turned the camera upside down.
"Yeah, yeah," Pony said. "Now when you do that, that automatically resets the frame counter-"
"What's that?" I asked.
"The number of whatever picture you're on," Pony said.
"Okay, Soda," Pony went on, "Now, you gotta lift the film pressure plate door-right there," he said, pointing.
"Okay. What now?" Soda said.
"You have to feed a few inches of leader film across the film track-" Pony stopped reading, and he and Steve and I watched
as Soda did that.
"Now tuck the end into that three-pronged thing there, on the other side," Pony said.
"That's called the take-up spool there," Pony told me, pointing.
"Alright. Done," Soda said.
Pony consulted the sheet of directions again, and read, "After advancing the film far enough to ensure it's loaded properly, you
replace the bottom plate, and advance to frame one."
"Frame one means picture one?" Steve asked, and at that moment I wanted to giggle. We must have made quite a sight,
the four of us hovering over that black and silver camera.
"Yeah. Picture one," Pony confirmed, as Soda finished replacing the bottom plate, and then handed the camera
off to me with a flourish.
"There you go, Junie," Soda said. "Go take your first picture."
I stood there, in the living room, holding my new camera, and looking at the three of them.
"What should I take a picture of first?" I asked, feeling unsure, and excited, all at the same time.
"Anything," Soda said.
"Yeah. Anything. Come on," Pony Boy encouraged.
I looked at the three of them, and said, "Okay. You all stand together."
I could tell they all three liked the idea of being the first picture, so they slung their arms around each other's necks and
shoulders, hamming it up. And, I took their picture.
Outsiders
When Darry got home at six o'clock, the laundry still wasn't folded, and we only had hot dogs for supper, but
he didn't seem to care. He was happy that I'd won something so high-tech, and nice. I could tell.
When we'd met him at the door, all talking at the same time, and showing the camera to him, he listened, and
then he sat down in his chair in the kitchen, and held it, looking it over.
"This is real nice," he said. "Real expensive."
"I was sort of disappointed at first," I told him. "When I didn't win the television, you know. But, I think the camera is
gonna be fun."
"Yeah. You can have a lot of fun with it," Darry said.
I was rattling off to him about someday needing to get a flash for it, and Darry nodded, letting me chatter on. He
handed it back to me, as Pony Boy was setting the plate of cooked hotdogs in the middle of the table.
"You'd better go put it up so it doesn't get broken, or anything," Darry said. "Is there a case for it?"
"Yeah, there was a case in the box," I said.
Darry reached out to catch hold of my arm as I moved to stand up.
"I'm real glad you won, Junie," he said, and smiled at me.
"Thanks, Darry," I said, and gave him a bright smile, before I got up to go put the camera away carefully.
Outsiders
After that, there was no holding me back. We had the picture of Soda, Pony and Steve developed, and now it had a place
of honor in a frame, on the shelf above the television in the living room. I took pictures morning, noon and night, and in between. Every single day. Well, not at night so much, because I still needed one of those flash things for the camera to do night pictures. The problem with that was, naturally, that they were
expensive. I wanted to earn enough money to buy one, because I knew that there was sure no extra money just laying around
our house. Every penny was practically spoken for ahead of time.
And, I wouldn't have asked Darry, anyway. That would have been really selfish, even if he had the money. Which he definitely
did not.
So, my next best plan was to get a job. My own job. There were still two full months of summer left before school started up.
I could think of no reason, none at all, that I couldn't get a job for those two months. Then I could earn enough to buy the flash, and
have some to give to Darry for the bills, too. Just the thought of being able to do that made me feel all warm inside.
It should have been a simple thing. Go to Darry, and explain to him the valid reasons for me getting a job. So
one night at the supper table, I brought it up. Just casually, you know.
Soda had been talking about some special car that was down at the garage being worked on, and Pony Boy and Darry were
asking him questions about it. Two-Bit was there, too, as usual. I listened to them talking about the car with half
an ear, waiting for my opportunity.
Two-Bit was asking what was for dessert, and Soda Pop said, "Chocolate cake, what else?"
"They're looking for somebody to help out at the drugstore," I said, into a lull in the conversation.
"They've got that good-lookin' soc girl workin' there," Two Bit volunteered. "She can fill out a sweater."
Soda popped Two Bit in the back of the head.
"Not anymore," I said. "She quit."
"Oh, man," Two Bit groaned, as if it was a tragedy.
"I was thinking," I said. "I thought I might apply for the job."
You would have thought I'd said I was running for President of the United States, or that I'd just sprouted purple hair off the
top of my head, or something like that. They were all staring at me.
"What are you talkin' about, Junie?" Soda said.
"I'm talking about getting a job. You know, what Darry has-what you have down at Buck's, Soda. What Pony has at
the bowling alley. What Two-Bit will never have-" I added that last jab at Two Bit thinking that a bit of joking would be
a good thing.
"June-Bug, you crush me," Two Bit said, dramatically clutching his chest.
"Mr. Bryer would never hire you," Pony Boy said.
"Gee, thanks, Pony, I love you, too," I said, sarcastically.
"Sorry, but you know what I mean, Junie. He'll hire another soc girl."
"A person never knows until they try," I said, and took a drink of my milk.
"I doubt if Mr. Bryer's gonna want to hire a thirteen year old," Darry said. I gave him a look, but he was smiling at
me, not being mean. He did look amused, though. As if I was just being silly.
"He might," I maintained, feeling stubborn.
"I think you're loony, June-Bug," Two Bit said, slicing himself a huge piece of chocolate cake. "Why would ya wanna join the
work force at thirteen for, anyway?"
"Some of us have goals, Two-Bit," I said, loftily. Two Bit just laughed, and stuffed his face with chocolate cake. Soda and Pony started
diving for their cake, then, too, and they all got loud. I looked to Darry again, but he wasn't paying attention, or even thinking about
what I'd said. I could tell. He was far away in his own thoughts.
After supper, I left the boys in the kitchen, eating their cake. It was Soda's turn to do the dishes, and I knew he would
con Two Bit into helping him. Darry went to take a shower, and then they all watched television. Eventually Two Bit
and Soda left to go out somewhere, and Pony went to his bedroom to read. It was after nine when I got out of the shower
and into my pajamas. I went thru the living room towards the kitchen. Darry was still in the living room, but he'd turned
the television off, and was sitting at the end of the couch, reading something. I went on to the kitchen, and poured myself
a glass of milk, and then, on second thought, I took down another glass, and poured it full.
I turned off the kitchen light with my elbow, since my hands were full of the glasses. I went over to the couch,
and sat down beside Darry, in the middle cushion of the couch.
He seemed really intent on what he was reading. It was a thick book and from what I saw, it looked like graphs and numbers
and things.
"Darry?"
"Hmm?
"Here," I said, and held out the second glass of milk.
He looked up, and then reached out to take it. "Thanks."
He took a long drink and then went back to reading again.
"What are you reading?" I asked.
"Business tax laws," he said.
"Wow," I said. "How come you're reading that stuff?"
"Just been doin' some thinkin' about things," he said. Which really wasn't an answer at all.
"Oh," I said, and then I fell silent.
After a couple of moments, he looked up from the book. "Did you wanna talk to me about somethin'?" he asked.
"Yeah. I do."
"Okay," he said, and closed the book. "What's up?"
"Well, you know I've been takin' a lot of pictures lately, and all. And, I'd like to be able to take night pictures, too. But, to do that,
I need a flash for the camera. And, they're sort of expensive."
"Uh huh. How expensive?" he asked.
"Around twenty-five dollars."
Darry whistled. "Wow."
I was starting to launch into my job spiel again, but Darry spoke up before I could.
"That's out of my range right now, Junie. But, maybe for your birthday-if we found a used one, I can swing it. How would that be?"
I rushed to explain that he'd misunderstood what I was getting at.
"No, Darry, I didn't mean that. I didn't mean that you have to buy it for me. I don't expect you to do that. I want to buy it
myself."
I had his attention now. He was giving me a real serious look.
"I'm listening," he said.
"It's like I said at supper," I began. "I want to get a job. And earn the money for the flash."
"I didn't think you were really serious about all that," he said.
"I am."
He was looking at me, in a skeptical way, and I knew he was thinking of the right words to say what he wanted to say.
(Like, um NO, June Marie, you do not need a job).
"Lots of kids my age have jobs, Darry," I pointed out.
"Paper routes, and babysitting, yeah," he said.
"I can't get a paper route. They only hire boys at the newspaper."
"I don't want you havin' a paper route, anyway," Darry said. "Ridin' all over on a bicycle. No tellin' what might happen."
I decided to not answer that statement of his. He was straying away from the point I wanted to make.
"Babysitting doesn't pay enough. Twenty-five cents an hour, if you're lucky. It would take forever to save up," I said. "That's why
I want to apply somewhere like the drugstore."
Darry sighed, and I knew he was already getting tired of the conversation.
"I already pointed out to you that Mr. Bryer likely wouldn't hire someone your age," he said.
"The drugstore was just an idea," I said. I was willing to concede on this point. "If he won't hire me, then I can apply somewhere
else. Another one of the stores, maybe."
Another one of those 'looks' from him.
"I know what you're thinking, too," I told him.
"Oh, you do. What am I thinkin', then?" he challenged.
"You're thinkin' that I might get my feelings hurt because they only want soc girls, or something. But, that's not true, Darry. I know
for a fact that Mr. Bryer likes you. He always says, 'How's Darrel? He sure is a good fella'," I repeated. "So, maybe I would get
the job just because of how well he likes you." I smiled at him, thinking that I'd played my Ace, and played it well.
"So, can I?" I asked. "Try to find a job?"
"Ah," he said, and he shook his head. "I don't think it's a good idea right now, kiddo."
"Why?" I asked. I could feel myself getting upset, really fast.
"You've got things to do around here," he said. "I count on you a lot, you know," he added, and I knew he was trying to placate
me.
"I'll still do my chores," I said. "That's not a good reason, Darry."
He raised his eyebrow. "Excuse me?"
Usually, if Darry gave me that particular look, and said 'excuse me?' in that tone, I would be backtracking faster than
a duck swims away from a shark. But, I was feeling stubborn. Yeah. A stubborn Curtis. Imagine that.
Still, you can't make too big of a leap right out of the gate and all. I'm not usually one for sassing Darry much, so I decided
that I did not want to take Darry on full force right then. Or to throw away all my hard work of negotiation that I'd been doing.
So, I went a different way. The guilt attempt. "I thought you'd be proud of me," I said. "Trying to earn it myself."
"I am proud that you want to," he said.
"Then why do you say that it's not a good idea?" I asked, and I could hear frustration creeping into my tone.
"Not a good idea right now, is what I said, June Marie."
Ah. Now we were to June Marie. That meant that the negotiations were nearly at an end. At least as far as Darry was
concerned.
"Now is the perfect time," I argued. "It's summertime. No homework. I can earn money somewhere, and still do
stuff around here, too."
"When you're older. Next summer, maybe. Pony didn't have a job at your age," Darry pointed out. "And I wouldn't want you
walking uptown and then home again every day by yourself."
"If he'd wanted to have a job, I bet he could have," I objected. "Just because he's a boy! If you're worried about me walking to and from
somewhere to work then Pony can walk with me!"
"Junie-" Darry began, and I leaped up, turning to face him.
"Rhonda's only six months older than me, and she's been working for a year now at the movie theater!" I said, getting louder with every word.
"And she didn't even ask her parents first! She just went down there and got the job on her own! And-she doesn't have to have
permission for every little thing, either!"
"Don't raise your voice to me, June Marie," Darry said, his tone a warning.
"I'm tryin' to explain to you, though!" I protested, and, though I thought I brought my voice tone down a notch, it wasn't
enough to suit Darry.
"You can just go to your room, and go straight to bed," Darry ordered.
It was a stand-off, so to speak. I tried to stare Darry down, but it was a doomed attempt from the start. I felt as though I was
going to start crying, of all ridiculous things.
So, I stomped off towards my room. Pony was standing in the doorway of his bedroom, his book dangling from one hand.
"What's goin' on?" he asked.
"Go read your book," I told him, and went to my tiny room. My instinct of self-preservation was still kicking in, though, because
I didn't slam my door.
Outsiders