Thanks so much to those who reviewed last chapter.
Disclaimer: I duhn own The Outsiders.
After eating breakfast, the boys had headed out to the lot with the intention of rounding up Johnny and Dally for a game of football but when neither boy could be found the idea was pushed away. No one minded too much though because, although no one wanted to be the first to admit it, it was freezing outside.
"I oughta head on up to the DX," Steve said, rubbing his arms inconspicuously to get to the blood flowing.
Pony was going through cigarettes even faster than usual, relishing in the minute amount of heat the match gave off.
"Hey, why don't you come and ask the boss man if you can pick up a couple of hours? That smartass kid, what's his name, Roy or Roger, he ain't coming in today so it's just gonna be me," Steve urged. If someone who wasn't used to the nature of Steve and Sodapop's friendship had seen the way the two had gone at it this morning, they'd be quite baffled by this idea. Steve's head was still aching from when Soda accidentally slammed it into Two-Bit's knee and Soda's big toe was snapping with every step after having cracked loudly when Steve's boot dug into the socked foot. Many would need at least a day to get over these grievances and while the boys couldn't help complaining at least every five minutes, it was a jibing, teasing sort of complaint that had the feel of an inside joke.
"Naw, I promised Darry I wouldn't work this weekend. Me and Pony are probably just gonna bum around with Two-Bit," Soda replied.
"Yeah," Two-Bit added, "I got some plans for the three of us. Know them Rock 'Em Sock 'Em things? Well, Anderson's store has got a couple hiding in the back from Christmas and seeing as how my Mom didn't believe me when I asked her for one I'm thinking I gotta get me one myself."
Soda and Steve started laughing but rather than look embarrassed, Two-Bit merely looked proud at getting them to laugh. As much as he loved lifting things, he had to say that getting people to laugh was better, and he hardly ever had to steal a laugh from someone. Though, of course, stealing came back into the picture when he forced a chuckle from an uptight soc who hardly knew the joke was on him. Actually, those were the best kinds of jokes, Two-Bit decided. So really he loved stealing just as much as everyone thought, just not always the stuff he was expected to steal.
"How you gonna get that out of the store? It's in a box," Ponyboy said, speaking up for the first time since leaving in the house.
"Don't you got any saddlebags you could hide it in?" Two-Bit asked, wrinkling his forehead innocently.
"Don't you got any better jokes?" Pony inquired, mirroring Two-Bit's expression.
"I'm leavin' now 'cause I don't think my sore head can stand listening to neither of you chuckleheads much longer," Steve said, knocking the toes of his boots on the ground.
This reminded Pony of Soda getting ready to ride in a rodeo. Soda would knock the dust of his boots by tapping them against the ground, would straighten his collar, and tip his hat so his eyes, glowing with excitement, would just barely peek out at the girls who'd be sighing, "oh, that Sodapop Curtis."
The boys waved their good-byes and went off in opposite directions. Neither Pony nor Soda were very surprised to find out that Two-Bit really did want to get himself one of those Rock 'Em Sock 'Em deals.
"Why?" Pony asked, stepping from the street to the curb to avoid being hit by oncoming traffic.
"It'll be good for learning fight tactics, it'll help me become the best Soc Stomper we've got on this side of town," he replied instantly.
"'Fraid you're gonna have to take that title from me, and I ain't planning on giving it up anytime soon. I am proud to state that I have never lost a fight." Soda ducked his head and raised a fist like an exhausted boxer.
"Darry's never lost a fight either," Pony pointed out.
"Ah, but Darry don't just stomp, he obliterates," Two-Bit said wisely. "He makes them squares feel like they're nothing but one of us dirty greasers."
"What a shame," Pony replied with quiet sarcasm.
The three passed a few minutes walking in companionable silence, save a moment when they were stopped at a corner and a girl stared at Soda's scuffed sneakers appraisingly and he winked and whispered, "if you shoes slip and slide, get the ones with the stars on the side!" But aside from that, they were quiet, which was highly unusual for Two-Bit.
When they reached the Anderson's store, Two-Bit reached for the doorknob but stopped before opening it. He looked over his shoulder at Ponyboy and Sodapop.
"Although I was completely serious about becoming the best Soc Stomper," Two-Bit began, "I have other thoughts about what could come with the obtainment of the said Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots."
"Oh yeah, and what's that?" Soda asked curiously, hooking his thumb in his belt loop and leaning back on his heels. Pony unconscientiously adopted a similar stance.
"In my English class, we been reading Robin Hood."
This didn't surprise Pony; although Two-Bit was a junior, he was put in remedial classes. Pony said nothing about first having read Robin Hood in the third grade but instead asked what Robin Hood had to do with anything.
"Well to make a long story short, I heard Denny Palaski tellin' Bruce Rogers 'bout how the Anderson's had them toys hanging around in the back of the store still. He said he was aiming to steal the Robots. Not for any reason he said, just to do it. Probably would run it over with his Buick, he said."
"So you're gonna steal so the rich can't steal just for the hell of it?" Soda asked, scratching his head. Two-Bit nodded and said, "Sounds 'bout right."
"You steal just because all the time," Pony said.
Two-Bit grinned.
"I do, don't I?" Then, pulling the door open, he added in a lower but still cheerful tone, "you know the drill."
They did know the drill. Actually, there were many drills and the whole gang knew how things worked when someone wanted to lift something. At particular places, a job required just one guy to go in. That usually happened at places where the owner was older and fearful of too many boys in leather jackets who wore their hair slicked back being around all at once. Other times, every man was required in order to pull the attention away from the one guy who was looking to swipe something.
These drills were so engrained in each boys brain, it didn't need to be said which one was needed. The second kind was the sort needed for that day and Soda was jumping to the punch, putting his whole heart into assisting his friend partake in delinquent acts. It's what he'd do for any of his buddies.
"Marilyn, that sure is a pretty name. Pretty face to go with it, too."
The girl at the counter, Marilyn Anderson, had been near falling asleep at the counter before the three boys walked in. She knew them all. She knew that the guy with the side-burns was Two-Bit Mathews, the funniest kid at Will Rogers. She didn't know the auburn-haired kid's name, but she sure knew who his brothers were. She remembered Darrel from the football games she had gone to faithfully ever since she was a kid and then Sodapop … he hardly came to school anymore, but she noticed when he did. Why, the things she do-
Marilyn had nearly jumped through the ceiling when the boy she thought of so fondly appeared in front of her. She had turned as red as her cardigan when he had nodded at her genially and greeted her by name. She had nearly fainted, wondering how he knew her name, but then remembered her nametag. This made her blush even more deeply.
"Ya know, I was wonderin' if you could show me where the orange juice would be. I haven't had none in weeks. My little brother here was supposed to be a good little housewife and get some be he went and decided that we could do without juice for just a few more weeks."
"Who really needs orange juice?" Pony shrugged.
"Oh, uhm-" the girl muttered wildly, wondering where her words had run off to. Sodapop spared her embarrassment and went on as if she hadn't uttered a sound.
"Well, I was fine for a few days but I woke up this morning with a real hankerin' for some good orange juice and I just couldn't wait any longer and had to head straight here. This store's a little farther off than the QuikTrip but they sure don't got anyone with as pretty a name as Marilyn workin' for then, and no one who'd be as sweet on helping me as you would."
Pony could hardly contain his laughter. Poor Marilyn was clinging to the counter, obviously fearing she may faint at any moment. She stared across the store to where the orange juice was located and thought fearfully upon the daunting task of getting from her counter to there without falling flat on her face. Soda followed her gaze and realized he had to change directions, as the orange juice was located awfully close to where Two-Bit was surveying the toys.
"Actually, orange juice isn't what I've been wantin' at all. I actually came here with the hope of-" he sighed dramatically. "You know honey, why don't you just get me some cancer sticks, how 'bout that? I don't care what kind- no not those, not those neither-"
The bell on the door jingled as Two-Bit exited the store, the box hardly hidden beneath his jacket.
"Those ones are perfect."
Marilyn turned back around and handed Soda a pack of Winstons. Pony didn't like Winstons, but he always got a kick out of how Dally called them "pansy-ass weeds that screw the name of Winston."
He made sure to hold up his act, even after Two-Bit's departure and gave Marilyn a wistful look as he handed her the money and left promptly. He felt a little bad for playing the girl like that at the end, but not too much. He knew Sandy wouldn't be happy with him if she ever heard the story, but she most likely wouldn't. Well, at least he knew she wouldn't hear it from him.
"You oughta go into actin', Soda, that was perfect," Two-Bit praised, pulling the box out of his jacket once they turned the corner. "And you, Kid," he added, nodding at Pony. "I gotta say, you got a way with words yourself. "Who needs orange juice?" Boy howdy, they must be nominating you for the Oscars already."
"Aw, shut up. I shoulda said more, there was enough time with you prancing around back there. I woulda said more, too, but Soda's voice was not only making her swoon, but the only thing keeping her from fallin' on the floor, too."
"Oh, I bet you woulda. Just savin' your breath to smoke those pansy cancer sticks. Oh boy, when Dally sees you!"
"Soda was then one who bought 'em, I don't even like Winstons. You better shut up Two-Bit or I'll-"
Two-Bit, Sodapop, and Ponyboy went back to the Mathew's house, where the warmth of a furnace that was kept on high all winter long welcomed them.
For awhile, Two-Bit did do as he said he would and created epic rumbles-yet-to-come and demonstrated what he'd do to those socs when they got to him. This was entirely a story about blow to the face after blow to the face, seeing as how that was all the robots could do. Two-Bit had the two Curtis boys laughing when he began shouting about how a blow to the face was what would win it everytime, how he'd run around rumbles knocking people's blocks off, when his little sister came prancing through the door, tugging her mother's hand. She squealed with delight when she saw the toy. It didn't matter that girls weren't supposed to like toys like that, that it was for boys. All she could think of was how it was new and had come from a box. Little Ann Mathews hardly had any store-bought toys, mostly her mother just twisted up dishclothes and called them dolls. Annie looked at the robots with a creative eye and said to her big brother, "they're really just dolls, ain't they? I could dress 'em up!"
Two-Bit agreed heartily, swinging her onto his back and running around the room. Talk of socs stopped immediately. Mrs. Mathew's asked no questions of where the toy had come from, just told Two-Bit he'd done a nice thing for his sister. Two-Bit shrugged.
Pony and Soda no longer wondered what Robin Hood had to do with anything.