Hereafter

Chapter Seven

The View

I woke up on a dirty stone floor. The smell of stale tobacco spelled by the distinctive yet nearly invisible smoke wafting in the breeze-less day. Quite a few cigarettes lay all un-smoked and scattered across the floor. There lying on the ground in front of the small church, it was a small and pale, Greasy boy wearing a shirt that was way too big on him. He had short, bleached hair and a real cool set of green-gray eyes. Days of being stranded out here in the middle of nowhere welded his face to a nearly expressionless fixture.

"Golly Ponyboy, how much you smoke today?" his face was unchanged. "I dunno, man," Ponyboy was so out of it right now. And not because he was high off smoking or anything like that.

"C'mon man, even you know that smokin' so much is bad fer ya'." He shot a glare at me, "Yeah, an' you'd know that, wouldn't you Johnnycake?" He was obviously referring to me starting to smoke at nine. So I guess I have no room telling him to stop, huh?

I stepped closer and motioned him to light and give me one. I don't feel bad about it, I mean I really don't have too much left to do here anyway. I think Pony's a bit steamed about me beating him in all those card games. I can't blame him. Besides, I may as well and try to enjoy my life while I can, right?

...

"Hey Pony..."

"Yeah, what?" I wanted to ask what he thought the gang was doing right now. I didn't really want to bring up the idea anymore than he did. It was one of those thoughts that have always been at the backs of our minds since before we even got to Windrixville. If we didn't avoid the subject so much, then maybe it wouldn't hurt as much.

The thought of it all was so painful for me but it must've been so much worse for him. He loves his brothers but me, I've got no one. No one to really count on, no one to look up to, no one to stick up for me...

Except maybe Dally.

We've been gone for like two or three days. At least I think so, it feels so long since then. Something like a couple months already. But we all know it hasn't even been a week. Maybe it was too soon for the both of us to start think about it.

"Do you think we should, uh, fight?" He winced and looked back at me confused.

"What do ya' mean?" I felt real bad for asking. I mean, if we are gonna be runaways forever, we may as well learn to defend ourselves.

"Ya' know...If you're gonna stay away from home, they may be if we run into anyone, then we should..." Ponyboy cringed when I used the word if. He waited a real long time before responding to me. (Be ready for anything) I wanted to say it out loud, but I felt so low right now.

Finally, he grinned at me, "Sure, Johnny. We ain't doin' anything anyway."

XXX

Weird, I didn't see him leave school. He'd usually wait for me, but not this time, oh well. Maybe I'll find him around soon.

I did find him, he was at the graveyard, I barely noticed too. He was standing at a grave that said the words 'Johnny Cade'. I recognize that name alright, but I don't like thinking about it so much.

"Hey, you okay?" He looked so out of it right now. Obviously seeing those words were much worse on him than they ever could be on me. I saw him on that newspaper and after that I didn't really know what to expect. I just couldn't believe a grease would do that, but damn do I feel guilty. Maybe someday I'll tell him, but I don't think I can without him getting mad.

If I hadn't seen that article then maybe I would've never became friends with Ponyboy in the first place.,,

I didn't like that look on his face, I really don't think he should stay here for much longer. I couldn't stand it either.

It was kinda cold and he was only wearing jeans and a blue, sleeveless shirt with Micky Mouse on it. Somehow he didn't seem to mind the cold so much, but I had on a sweater so it didn't bother me some. We'd take the bus to get to school but we didn't like to take the bus home so much. We walked home just about every day.

I thought back at the graveyard, I wish he didn't go there. I mean, he barely smiles as it is. My guess is that he goes to the graveyard like once or twice a month or something like that.

We passed by an alley that was heavily vandalized by graffiti. We both loved staring at these kinds of things, there were a bunch around all of Tulsa. In both grease and Soc neighborhoods. He brought the idea here and a bunch of people started to imitate him, but some how you could just tell it was his if you ever saw it. The guy was called the 'Black Cat'. He didn't sign his name at all until he got pretty famous here. I don't know where the term Black Cat came from, but I doubt it was the guy himself who thought of it.

He spray painted a bunch of different things. Most were words like peace, hate, love, benevolence, malaise. Stuff like that in weird and colorful fonts but were ultimately cool-looking in spite of it. He also had some short poems on the walls (they looked cool too, the font, that is), though most are kinda faded out or other images were sprayed over them. Some of his favorite pictures were flames, fireworks, black cats, heaters, skulls and stuff like that.

One picture showed a city that was being snowed lightly with the ashes of a cigarette (the cigarette was above the city); the city itself looked awful. The condition, that is, garbage every where, kids though frozen in time, were fightning; and some grafiti in it too. But all of it was written in red. The city looked like it was far off in the background. There was a large camera pointed towards the city but with its lens cap on so none of this was been recorded...

There was also a man in a tuff-looking tuxedo holding an umbrella over and behind his head, leaving the city. He didn't have a face or was wearing a mask, and his head was kinda down.

There were a couple odd things about the guy though. All of his art, they came outta no where in the summer. I heard about graffiti way over the East, but never around here. So why start like now? But I know the greaser-Soc fights got worse that part of the year than it had been for years. How come no one found the guy or seen caught him while doing this? He also seemed to support both greasers and Socs.

But both Socs and greasers admired his work. Despite that, from his art, it was plainly obvious that he greatly opposed fighting. There was one bit where it should a real cool-looking grease breaking street lights; he would would mug old ladies and scare off little kids. Another showed a guy dressed in nice clothes but he would get drunk and beat on greasers. There were more; but he never did specify which ones were his. You just had to tell.

Trying to use stereo-types to help prove a point - now where have seen that before?

It must suck. The fact that his art was meant to help quell the violence that so marred this town, but instead it served as a catalyst for even more. In other words: although he had good intentions, he really only made things worse.

As for me, I don't really care which he was. He had a great talent, and I admired him for that, whoever it was. Now that I think about, who ever said the Black Cat was a guy? It could be a girl. Who knows? And where did he or she go? They stopped not so soon after they started.

I looked over to my friend, he looked at it with amazement. His cool green-gray eyes were glistening with life, for once. I've been his friend for what? Two months? I have to say, it really was a rare thing to actually see the guy smile. Like that, I mean he'll smile every time he sees a friend or if he hears a good joke, but they don't last for so long. Not like this.

It's not his or anyone else's fault, it's just the way he is. I think.

"Hey c'mon, man. Let's go." I motioned him to come follow me, he followed and we were both off. Unsurprisingly, his face went back to being nearly expressionless again. I don't think something big's going on, or anything like that. He's been like this for probably a lot longer than I've known him. And yeah, he's a real quiet guy. I'd have to say I'm cool with that.

His back slouched slightly to the front, and he stuck his hands in his jeans. He looked tough, it seemed like it was something natural for him. I wonder if that comes with being a grease. I don't know, but I guess I wouldn't know.

We were approaching a Dairy Queen. "You hungry?" I knew he was. "A little." (You liar) "Then let's get a bite to eat." He looked at me, a little annoyed, "C'mon, ya' know that it's expensive over there." (It is?) "Then I'll pay for it," my selfless suggestion only made him even more agitated. I should have known better.

"I don't need your charity," he was really good about not letting the frustration show. I knew he hated me doing that, but it was my suggestion and I'm going to follow through with it.

"Oh, shut up and accept it will ya?" I followed his gesture and went on looking real dangerous like. We both got to the Dairy Queen and entered.

It was like someone set off a bomb in here, by someone, I meant us. The whole crowd of people inside eyes' all shifted towards us in unison. (Shit) I looked at him, though the way he was standing and that look on his face were unchanged, something went off in the guy's eyes.

This wasn't good, there were a shit load of Socs in here. But why? We'd both go here every once in a while, but this place was never so filled. Most of the middle class kids go here, the small group of people who weren't a part of the Soc-greaser conflict. And most were unaware of Socs and greasers. Well, they knew about them, but most of them did not really know about our struggles. I glanced at the prices, they were quite a bit higher than usual. Was this place being a new Soc hangout and is the price rising a coincidence? Somehow I doubted. There weren't so much cars in the lot; so did they like walk here or what?

When the majority of them went about their business, or at least pretended to do so, we moved closer and headed towards an empty table near the front corner. He scanned the surrounding area with suspicion. "Hey, do you have some grease on you?" (No, I don't think so). I checked my pockets and was pleasantly surprised when I found some. (Where the hell did I get this?) I ignored my thought and just gave it to him, "Thanks, man."

It wasn't so weird for me to actually have some with me; I also have a mirror so I can fix my hair if it gets all messed up. I like my hair, it was longer than most non-greasers, mine is real curly and blond. What I didn't like it so much was that it would always lose it's form to the wind. So I put hair oil on; not a lot, just enough so I didn't have to go about fixing my hair every 5 minutes. A little like his when his hair was still blond, I remember he hated having it blond though. I don't know why, he looked pretty cool with it blond. I guess it's greaser thing.

"Hey," he stopped and looked back at me. "Do you want to get anything or what?" he gave me a look that told me he wanted out as fast as he could. I knew he wouldn't because it's a real bum move to walk in a place, look around, and then just walk out. People'd give you funny looks. (Okay.) "Try to not to attract too much attention," before I could finish, he gave me a look that said, "No shit, smart guy. Putting on grease while in a Soc hangout isn't exactly subtle, either." I would have asked (then why are you doing it now?) But he'd just respond saying that just sitting here would make things even worse than doing that. Which it would.

I always thought of it weird how we could have a conversation without really talking so much. But he seemed like the kind of person who'd do that sort of thing. I thought that maybe the reason why he doesn't talk so much is because that he doesn't really have to.

"If you get in some trouble, then just holler, ya' dig?" he silently agreed and headed towards the bathroom. I ordered me a chocolate smoothie and got mine not so long after.

"Well, well, well, look at what the trash brought in?" some guy stood up in front of the table I was at. I tried ignoring him and stared outside the window.

He was obviously annoyed by my gesture and put his hands the table and said, "Ya' know what's worse than a greaser?" (What? Being a big ol' dumbass like you?) He looked at me in the eyes, "A greaser-loving Soc." (A what?) ...Damn I wanted to deck him in the face and knock the poor guy out, but this was a public place so that wasn't an option...yet.

My composure was still untouched since I got here, "I really wonder how you stand it." My voice was just quiet enough so that only he could really here me. With his grin disintegrated he inquired, "Stand what?" "Stand being a talentless loser who can't do anything right." He grew hot-headed (all too easy). I smirked widely.

I went on and rolled my eyes, "Well when you look at it that way, suddenly being a grease doesn't seem so bad, does it?" His face was priceless, and I would've been laughing my head off in spite of myself. "Look, you better learn to keep your mouth shut or I'll teach you lesson you won't forget." He looked and sounded grave and grim.

"What is it exactly that you could possibly teach me? How to trip over nothing, ya' idiot klutz (he actually did once). Or how to simply fail at life? In fact, I didn't know this could actually happen but, I think that every second I'm talking to you I'm actually getting dumber." He looked so steamed it was as if he were about to burst, but he kept it all under wraps - for now. He stood tall and looked down at me. I slipped some more of my smoothie.

My grin grew wide and obnoxious-like. "Oh come now, Dylan, don't be an ass. That is, if that's even possible for you." Pretending to ignore the first part of my remark, he cocked his eyebrows, "How'd you know my name?"

I looked to the side and took another sip, "I met your sister the other day. Yeah, a real bitch, ya know?" I looked at him eye to eye, "It must run in the family." We both shared our mutual looks of undying hatred and made no moves, but for only just a second. He then went on with cursing me and threatening me, but the guy at the counter said he didn't want any trouble or we're out. I saw my friend exit the bathroom with his hair looking all cool like. He held a face of confusion, as did most of the others around us. His face turned sour at the sight of Dylan, but then again, a lot of people's did.

I didn't feel like staying for much longer anyways; it's so rank in here, that the place was really getting me sick. There were a lot of people giving us looks.

I needed an smoke or something.

"That's fine, we were on our way anyway." We both left the door with the same expressions that we came in with.

"What was that all about, Lee?" I didn't really feel like talking about it. "It's nothing, Ponyboy. All the usually crap that goes one." He digested that, but of course what else would've happened, right? If I had known about it, then we would have never gone it.

I didn't feel bad at all, I knew about Dylan, he wasn't the grudge type. Okay, so he was, but he hates so much people it's not like he'll ever remember me anyway. And besides, I've met with people like him before, so engrossed with their own personal needs and gain that they don't give a damn to anyone else. So I've no regrets in that matter.

I got out a cigarette and lit it up. He looked at me as if he wanted one too. "Ya' want one?" He paused for a second. "No..." Thats not what his eyes said, to they looked more like, "Oh God, yes!" But he kept it all down. (Did he smoke before? Maybe he quit or something.)

We eventually got pretty close to the greasy neighborhoods. "Hey Lee, I bet I could beat you to my house." His face formed a grin and he started sprinting off. I followed after him. "C'mon Pony, this ain't the time, man," I dropped my cigarette (Oh dammit). I've seen his house while driving around sometimes so I know where to find it. But I've never actually been inside, so I really wonder what it was like.

Ponyboy was rushing noticeably faster than me, he made the stupid mistake of looking back when he was near the intersection. *Thud* He crashed into somebody. Finally catching up and out of breath I joked, "Dang, don't you ever use your head?" I knew he really hated me or anyone saying that, not so sure why.

"Get off me, you little-" he stopped and we both figured out just who Pony ran into.

"Sorry, Randy," Pony looked like it, but his tone was odd. He was sincere and I know they're friends, but he spoke to him differently than anyone in school. And to Cherry too, I wonder why.

"Oh, don't sweat it, Grease." Pony winced just a little, he told me that greasers don't mind other greasers calling each other that. He was more or less fine with me or Randy calling him Grease too, but we were still Socs; and he should never forget that.

"What were you doing, running around like that?" He was genuinely concerned. Then it hit him and he looked awful fierce, he shoved Pony slightly to the side and looked around, "Is there anyone after you, or something?" He looked at me, hiding his suspicion.

"Nah, me and Lee were just racing, I looked back and ran into you." he looked a little down.

Randy was looking curiously back at me, my face back to being cool and near expressionless. "Hey what's up, Lee," he extended out a hand. I hesitated at first but followed his gesture and shook hands. But I wasn't too happy to do so and he knew it. I wish he didn't, though.

Pony cocked his eyebrows, "You two know each other?" (He doesn't know?) I looked back at him a little surprised, "Of course we do, Pony. After all, he dated a good friend of mine a little while back." His eyes bulged only for a moment so that Randy wouldn't see. Marcia? his face would ask. Mine responded, yeah. Now Randy cocked his eyebrows.

I didn't like Randy, just because of the whole incident months ago. He was a guy who almost killed Ponyboy, anyway. Marcia breaking up with him was his own fault, I remember those days for the both of them: Cherry and Marcia. They were both felt real bad about everything, they felt that it was their fault. And it was, but definitely not all of it, Randy and Bob were both drunk and that was their fault also.

I can say I feel bad simply because Bob was a good friend of mine, but still, it was their fault.

But both of us could act like there was nothing between us pretty well. Though, for the most part, there really wasn't. But I couldn't hide my slight hatred for the guy, I'm sure they both caught on real quick. Randy knew I just didn't like him so much.

Ponyboy wouldn't let the awkward silence last for long, none of us could stand it so well. "So, Randy, what're doin' out here?" his eyes lit up a little. "I actually went over here to see a friend." (A friend that's a grease? Or one who at least lives around here? Who could that be?)

He went on, "I was actually one my way to hang with a couple of my friends. Y'all wanna come?" (Okay that was a stupid thing to ask, he only realized that after saying it. He knew why: his friends and I don't get along, I wonder how he does. for that matter. He doesn't seem the type to have those kinds of friends. And for Pony, the obvious reason: he's a greaser!) He looked away.

"You headed home, Pony?" Randy asked.

"No, actually I'm headed to DX to see Sodapop. He said he's trying to teach me to drive." "Oh really? I'll wish you luck then." (He's gonna need it, Randy.) I remember his auto-mechanics grades, I already have my license and the driver's test was real easy.

I glanced at my watch, "Hey, I gotta split soon, Pony," I felt a little bad. "Where ya' headed?" but now I grinned a little, mostly to myself. I can't believe I almost completely forgot. "I'm going over to see Andrea and we'll the movies later tonight."

Now he smiled a little and faced me, "You going to the Nightly Double?" "Yeah." He looked at me with a confused looked. "You should stop by sometime, y'know." Now that I think about it, I don't think I've ever met any of his brothers. ...Wow, I'm a great friend aren't I?

"Yeah, maybe I will someday." I looked over to the other neighborhood and started walk in its direction, "Later man." "See ya, Randy."

Randy looked at his watch, "I gotta go too, good luck Pony and say hi to Sodapop for me." Pony was grinning, "Sure thing, bye guys."

And all three of us left in separate ways.

I went back to thinking about that kid from the article...

Hmm...Did I become friends with Ponyboy only because I felt sorry for him? Like the time me and Cherry found him within an inch of his consciousness left, I know I felt sorry for him then.

I'd like to believe that isn't the truth, but maybe it is. To make things worse, I wasn't even drunk then, when I did what I did.

I know I didn't have the right, none of us did. But I did anyway.

So how 'bout it? Does that make me a hypocrite doing this? For only being friends because of my own guilt, too?

...

I don't think I'll ever tell Ponyboy. But he's smart, he'll probably find that out eventually anyway...

XXX

"Okay calm down Pony, just back up and go to the right." He followed my commands, well at least the second half, he poor kid was so red with nervousness.

"Okay, now go forward to left. No you're other left," I stayed calm for him; it's not like I've never been a situation like this before. Hell they make sure to have this in the driving test anyways.

"Go to the right," we were now back on the right lane and continued. That could've been real bad, right there. I would've taken the wheel if it weren't for time's sake, and for Pony's.

His breathing steadied a little and he let out a deep sigh. I rubbed his shoulder, "You're doing good, man." He would've shot me a look that'd say, 'What the hell are you talking about? I nearly got us into a crash, that's not good at all!" But he was so focused on the road, he wouldn't dare risk it.

But I don't believe him. I reckon he's done a pretty good job already; we've only been driving for like an hour and he's already gotten better. This was his first time really taking the wheel himself and I'm damn well proud of him. I remember how bad it was for me when I was first driving, then again that was when I was 10 or something, so I don't know so much. I think that was the only time Mom ever got really mad at me. Darry too.

Now that I think about it, Mom and Dad really worried for Darry a lot back then too. Darry seemed like a totally different person then.

My little brother was driving pretty slowly but would speed up just a little whenever some one passed by. Obviously to let no one know he was new; and if he was, they'd at least get the thought that he knew what he was doing. Ain't no way a grease is gonna be a driving dope, especially not one whose got a brother like me (and one who doesn't even do dope, or any other drugs).

He paid so much attention to every little detail they give out in driver's ed class. Spatial margins, street lights, lines, lane positions, and the signs. He didn't so much have a problem with them but got nervous when driving with other people around; I noticed he wasn't too familiar with the right of way and it scared him something fierce.

I noticed that he was motioning me to help him, I did earlier but I thought it'd be best if he learned some on his own, for the most part. And he got pretty pissed at me for not helping him out so more.

Since I am his older brother, car specialist too; I did get around to teasing him for his mistakes, although not nearly as much as Two-Bit or Steve would. I wonder how Darry would do, but I know Pony doesn't like the idea of that happening. He was already nervous on the road as it is, Darry being around's not helping anybody. Pony still thinks Darry's so critical of him, but he's really let up compared to before.

Maybe Darry realizes that Pony's not just his kid brother anymore.

We eventually got to closer to the middle of town. Pony didn't like it - me neither. We we're getting closer to Social ground and I knew Pony wouldn't go much further. To make things worse, there was a car accident in the middle of a four-way intersection and getting outta one of those long lines were a pain in the ass.

Before we got close enough to be trapped for hours on end, I told Pony to let me take the wheel. I knew that wasn't exactly legal, but then I don't really care so much. And I know Pony was really happy to do so.

I drove quickly and in no time at all, we were back at home. I looked back at Pony, he was sitting way at the back of his seat, literally stunned. (Oops) I almost forgot he was here, he's still so quiet.

Well I haven't driven a car in such a long time that I got a kick outta this time more than usual. Darry usually has the car and Steve brought me to work anyways so that worked for everybody. Steve also made a pretty big deal about driving his car, he said it was his so unless he's got something else to do, he wants to be the one driving it. He didn't make a threat or anything like that, but I respected his wish and usually only let him do the driving.

"Soda! Why the hell were you driving so fast?" his words lacked anger, just frustration and anxiety. "Sorry, Pony. I guess I just got carried away." I looked at him with a cheesy smile. But his breathing was unsteady and he looked real awful, right then. "Pony? You okay?" He looked back at me and tried calming down, "Yeah Soda, I'm fine." He lied.

I was kinda mad he was late for his first driving lesson. I told him to get here by 4 but he came almost at 5. But I let up on him when I figured out what he was up to. He was talking to this girl, she looked cute and they were talking for a good amount of time. He already looked pretty sick and he tried to smile more as if he were trying to forget something, I dunno. But the girl could tell that something was up, too.

When she had to leave, I think he felt a little better. He still looked pale as a ghost, but I knew he wanted to try out driving, so I wasn't gonna argue with him.

Noticing his obvious aches in his chest and head, I looked at my brother endearingly. "Oh cheer up, Ponyboy. Ya' know, when you start driving, work on some cars some more and get real good, I could maybe get you a job at DX." He bounced up like a little kid, temporarily forgetting his pain, "You can? Really?"

I grinned widely, "Yeah, sure. Why not? I mean, the boss man still owes me an' Steve an awful lot for everything we've done for him. I reckon I can convince him a thing or two."

That really lightened up his mood, "Thanks."

"Ah hell, Pony. I love you man, don't sweat it too much, m'kay?"

XX

"Hey, there they're at," Two-Bit greeted us, but Pony just brushed right through them. I was hoping his good spirits would last just a bit longer, but I guess his headache was worse than I thought. He ran into the kitchen, got some asprins and gulped then down.

He cocked his eyebrows, "My guess is that those driving lessons haven't gone so well."

"No duh," another voice came from the living room. "You see this boy's grades? Damn Pony, I thought you we were so supposed to be the smart one." My buddy was grinning ear-to-ear, and Two-Bit joined in with some more jokes.

Pony glared daggers at him and I didn't feel so hot right there either. I didn't like them teasing him about his grades so much. Especially since he works hard for them. I know I could never pull it off, but he can. My brother's a smart kid and no one should make fun of him for that.

"Shut it, Steve. I'd still end up with better grades than you even with all those D's bringing me down." Pony looked real bitter and hung his head up with his arm supporting it.

"What D's?" Darry walked in with a crazed look in his eyes. Pony thought nothing of it. "Here," he gave him the report card. At first, Darry's eyes shot up but returned back to normal after a second or two. He smiled, to mine and Pony's relief, "Hey, you did okay, kiddo." What Darry meant was, "Great job, Pony. I'm real proud of you, ya' know that?"

He wheeled around towards Steve, "You lay off my brother, will ya? At least he's improving, which is more anyone can say about you." He left soon after, but not without Steve scowled intensely in his direction. Ignoring my brother's threats, Steve went on." I mean seriously, a C in auto-mechanics? And you call youself a grease."

A spark lit in my brothers eyes, and mine too. Being a grease is something that all of us were proud of; Ponyboy now more than ever. I mean, it's not like he hasn't already thought the same, anyways. It would've been enough for Pony scolding himself about it, he didn't need Steve to make things worse. I glared angrily at my best friend, I'm sure Pony did the same.

I saw him shake quite a bit, he was gonna say something, but didn't. Probably because of that headache of his. Steve noticed me and Pony both and kept his mouth real shut.

"Hey, y'all hungry?" Two-Bit asked with his head fully stuck in our fridge. "Hell yeah," Steve hollered out. I turned to my still ailing brother, "Well?," I nudge him a little, "Are you, buddy?"

He looked at me real tired like, "Yeah, a little." (You liar) I felt an evil eye coming from to the back of me.

"Well, then Sodapop's gonna have to get his butt way over here 'cause there ain't no more chocolate cake in here." (What?) "Two-Bit, why can't you just learn to cook since you're always itchin' to have some?"

"C'mon Soda, you're smarter than that. You know if Two-Bit tries cooking, it'll only result in a nuke or something. And if it don't explode while he's cookin' it, then it'll kill ya' from the inside out." We both got a good laugh about it. There was at least one or two times that Two-Bit tried cooking. He did it just to try and impress a couple of girls he managed to score, one day. Why? 'Cause chicks dig guys who can cook, and most of them do, and I should know. The problem? You actually have to be able to cook in order to impress a girl with your cooking. If I'm not mistaken, they left off gaging. Poor girls.

Two-Bit smirked, "Hey, better you dead instead of me, right? And besides, maybe we can slip some of my cooking to the Socs, then they'll be having diarrhea." "Now wouldn't that be something?" Steve whole-heartedly agreed.

I went to the kitchen and got out some milk and eggs first for the chocolate cake. It was still around 6 : 30 and Darry wasn't gonna make dinner till 8 or something. I didn't have anything to eat since lunch. I looked back at Pony who wasn't looking to good, right now. "Pony, you go ahead and sleep, okay? I'll wake you when it's time for dinner, y'hear?" I was a little worried at his unresponsiveness.

"Yeah," his voice was real weak. He slowly walked over to our room and shut the door.

Weird, Steve looked real worried for a moment. "What's with the kid?" "Did anything happen, or what?" Two-Bit added.

I kept at my cooking trying to find the answer other than just some pains.

I thought out loud, "No, at least I don't think anything did."

Just to clear something up: I've never read TwTTiN or Tex or Taming the Star Runner. Why? Because my middle school has the Hinton books but my High School DOES NOT! (For some really fucked up reason, I don't know.)

So please excuse my future ignorance of those stories, if I ever do. (I'm planning to buy TwTTiN the next time I go to the mall or something). I dun know where to get the other three books (I still have Outsiders with me).

I actually haven't even begun driving yet, so I'm sorry if I've screwed anything over. I'm in driver's ed right now, though.

By the way, I wonder if y'all can recognize what I'm reference with the 'Black Cat'.

Please review.

The Chapter's done, the story goes on...