There was a sudden roar of polic sirens, and Dallas muttered a curse under his breath. Dally was a terrible driver, and he knew it. The thing is, he could be good. He was pretty good, when he tried. But Dally never tried hard at anything. Sometimes it seemed like he did the exact opposite of what people expected and wanted, even if it did make him look bad. He pulled over slowly, as if he had all the time in the world.
"Alright, Dallas. You know the drill for driving like that." Two-Bit weakly chuckled at the tone of the policeman's voice, finding it funny that the officer knew Dallas by name.
"Yes, Officer Pete, sir. My friend back there is hurt, so just give me the ticket. I gotta go." Dally snapped. The policeman rolled his eyes and began writing it up, but stopped. He looked up slowly in realization.
"Wait a second, Winston. You don't have a car like this. Nobody I've seen you with, does either. I know it from somewhere."
"It's a friend's," Dally said, ignoring the suspicious look he was recieving.
"No, I know who's this is. This is Jerry Conway's. Actually, it's his son's." He said, walking behind the car checking the plate number. "So, who hotwired it?"
Dally opened his mouth to speak, but before he could Steve blurted out:
"It was me." Stupid idiot."My idea," Dally added quickly. Jeesh. Count on ol' Steve to keep his mouth shut around the fuzz.
"Do you know how deep of trouble you two are in? Stealing, hotwiring, and speeding on top of that. Sorry boys, you're under arrest." He pulled out his handcuffs and opened the door to force Dally out of the car, who was threatening to put it back in drive. Ponyboy looked like he was about to cry, he swallowed nervously. Sodapop didn't look too good either, he was pale. He didn't want his best friend locked up in a federal prison. Soon, more cops arrived at the scene, along with an ambulance that took Two-Bit and the rest of the gang away.
(Okay guys, I warned you. I'm switching POVs on and off now. I won't keep it up for too long, promise.)
DALLY:
Man, I hate police cars. Your arms are tied behind you and there's this akward tension between everyone. Steve won't even look my way. He's really hacked off about this; for him it might mean losing his job at the station.
"Alright guys," The car door opened and two big gaurds hauled me and Steve off through the heavy doors of the prison, into my own personal living hell. It feels like I was just here yesterday. Prison is dirty. It smells and the ceiling is leaky, it's cold; dark and wet. Thankfully, I'd be in a cell with only Steve, not another stranger like last time. Oh, man Steve sure can shake. I can hear the handcuffs rattling. The gaurds opened the barred cell door, and pretty much shoved us in it before slamming it shut again. It felt like being trapped inside a cage. I turned to Steve, who was freaking out.
"Hey, man. Cool it. We don't even know how long we're in for, we could be out by tomorrow." I told him, but I knew we wouldn't be.
"I hate those damn Socs! They ruin everything!" Steve screamed, daring the prison to shout back. People did, of course. In jail, there's no such thing ad respect or calmness.
"Steve, shut up before I beat your head in." I told him, annoyed at how loud he was being.
"Dallas this isn't my fault, you and your stupid driving. Why can't you do something right, for once. Just fucking once! Like drive the normal speed limit. We wouldn't have to be here!" Steve was raging. His green eyes blazing in hatred. He reminded me of how I felt the first time I got locked up.
I was ten years old. In New York. I robbed some old department store, and the clerk called the cops. I'd only taken some cigarettes and a lighter. But I guess when the cops searched me, a ten year old having those things was very illegal, and probably dangerous. I was in for two months. It was the worst, I was scared shitless. I cried every night the first month, begging and pleading them to let me out, I got beat up by the older guys countless times, embarassed, ignored, starved. When I got out, I was on my best behavior. I never wanted to go there again. Then, when I was thirteen; my dad told me he didn't want me, and threw me out on the streets. I hitched my way to Oklahoma, where my mom was. That year I met the gang, well what would be the gang. Two-Bit and Steve always hung around with the Curtis boys, so I started to, too. Then my mom threw me out, but I stayed in Tulsa. We all met Johnny about a year later, I was fourteen then. The gang was somewhat of a family to me. In New York, the gang I'd hung around with was all about a group of guys you had to comform to. With a leader, and stupid initiations all of the time. As a gang, your only concerns were to have eachother's back in fights, and otherwise look out for yourself. There were four guys in our gang. I couldn't tell you their names, I don't remember. I try to forget all of them. It half worked. I forget their names, but I remember their faces. Their pained faces. I especially remember when one guy shot down some hood right in front of my face. He died painfully, bleeding to death, crying in agony the whole time. I try my best not to remember helping the gang mug that old man with a walker crossing the street, I try to forget reform school, forget the harsh jumpings we all gave and recieved, forget the kids who had the same lost look in their eyes as Johnny. Just forget it all. I'd give anything to. But I can't.
"Dally," Steve said slowly, calmed down and bringing me back to reality.
"Shut your mouth Steve! Shut the fuck up!" My voice echoed, and the room started spinning. I had to sit down. Steve didn't try to talk to me again that night.
PONYBOY:
I guess one month in jail isn't so bad, Dally's had worse. Steve would probably go nuts, but they'd both be back in less than four weeks. I hope Soda'll be okay without Steve at work. I walked into our bedroom to wake up my brother. We were going to go to the Dingo for lunch, then visit Two-Bit. It turns out, he tore his ACL, and would have to stay in the hospital the rest of the week, and be on crutches afterward. He was alright, though. I smiled to myself. It's a good thing he is, I couldn't stand losing someone else.
"Soda, get up. We gotta go. It's almost noon." Soda sighed and groaned and rolled out of bed. He pulled on a pair of blue jeans and a gray tee shirt. Sodapop has the best looks I've ever seen. He grinned at me, brushed his hair back, and went into the kitchen.
Two-Bit:"Hey nurse! You got any chocolate cake, this cafeteria food just isn't cutting it for me." I laughed. I've been pissing this one off all day, and it was really entertaining.
"No." She about yelled. I laughed harder.
"Well, nice customer service! You're just a doll ain't you?" She shook her head.
"I'm going to be so glad when you're out of here." This makes me slap my knee I'm laughing so hard, another nurse had said the same thing to Dally when he was in. Ponyboy and Sodapop walked in, carrying a coke.
"That for me? Thanks, guys!" I said, taking a big gulp. Anything tasted better than water.
"How are you doing, Two-Bit?" Sodapop asked happily.
"I'm fine, this place is really boring. Now I know why nobody goes to hospitals unless it's an emergency." Everyone laughed.
"Can you walk?"
"I don't know."
"Why haven't you tried?" Ponyboy asked.
"Kid, if I can lay in a bed all day and get waited on hand and foot with endless entertainment, why would I do it myself? I'm not going to try to walk till they make me." I grinned. Pony didn't use his head.
"Well me and Pony came in here figuring you'd be whimpering and miserable, but you seem happier than ever." Soda concluded.
"Yessiree. Hey, look at this!" I buzzed for the nurse.
"What?" She was really annoyed now, Soda busted out laughing.
"Oh, nothing. I just wanted to say hi."
"Keith, stop fooling around."
"Ohhhhkaaayy, sorry for being kind." Ponyboy was laughing now, too. I took another gulp from the coke Soda brought me.
"You guys going to visit Dallas and Steve?" I asked, remembering they were in the cooler for awhile.
"Darry doesn't want us to." Ponyboy told me.
"I probably will," Soda said quietly. Ponyboy looked at him curiously.
"Way to make your own choices, princess." I told Soda. I didn't want the kid backing out from seeing his best buddy because of Darrel. Darry was really unfair sometimes. He was too protective. We all talked and joked around for awhile longer, then the boys left. I closed my eyes to take a nap, the medicine they had me on didn't really keep me up for longer than a few hours at a time. If I didn't hate needles so much, I'd of probably ripped it out of my arm by now.