Note: I don't own The Outsiders
Chapter 24
Tucking the envelope containing his personal belongings beneath his arm, he slid on his dark sunglasses despite the cloudy skies. Freedom somehow made the sky seem brighter and he figured squinting would ruin the image he had playing in his head of the badass ex-con slowly emerging from the dark, dank prison.
This wasn't the first time he'd made such an exit, and part of him supposed it wouldn't be the last. Regardless, he was glad to be out of there. Usually, jail didn't bug him. He liked to brag about his record and most of the time that bragging was genuine. Jail was no big deal; a byproduct of the life he enjoyed living. This time felt different, though - it got under his skin somehow and that unnerved him.
"Dallas," a familiar voice sounded behind him and he stopped in his tracks - halting like an unsuspecting fish caught on a fisherman's hook, jolted out of its reverie by a sharp tug on the line.
He wasn't going to take the bait.
"I'm free, Doc. Served my time and now I don't gotta listen to your crap anymore," he said without turning around, his eyes scanning the deserted road for his ride.
"I didn't realize you'd ever started listening to my crap," Dr. Brown said with a chuckle. Dally sensed him walking up behind him, just outside the chain link fence. Dally didn't respond, but the doctor kept talking. "Maybe one day, you'll remember what I said."
"Whatever you say, Doc. If you ask me, I think you've been writing yourself a few of those psychological prescriptions - dippin' into the pharmaceuticals." Dally finally turned and gave a sly wink. "Don't worry, man. I won't say nothin'. Maybe you can hook me up later."
Dr. Brown laughed again and Dally wasn't surprised. The Doc wasn't going to take Dally's bait, any more than Dally was going to take his.
A car rumbled across the street and came to a screeching halt. Dally looked over his shoulder - his ride had arrived. It was Tim Shepard in a large, green station wagon that Dally had never seen before. Chances were, Tim hadn't seen it before that afternoon, either.
Dally didn't leave immediately and Tim laid on the horn, filling the afternoon with a shrill siren - it was a horrendous sound. How Shepard managed to find a car with a horn that sounded completely annoyed, impatient, and pissed-off all at the same time was beyond him. The car may look ridiculous, but the horn matched the guy perfectly.
"Well, it's been real … therapeutic, Doc, but I've gotta be on my way." Dr. Brown reached out and grabbed his arm before he could walk away. Both he and Dally slowly looked down at his hand at the same time and the doctor let go immediately. He was lucky Dally didn't deck him; he'd put guys in the hospital for less.
Dr. Brown reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a business card, which he held out for Dallas to take. Dally rolled his eyes behind his dark glasses as he grabbed the card.
"I want you to take that and call me if you ever need anything," the doctor said sincerely.
Dally gave a cynical laugh as he looked at the information printed on the stiff paper. It had the address for the Doc's office and his phone number. Dally turned the card over and noticed that there was handwriting on the back. It was another address and another phone number.
"Those are for my home," Dr. Brown explained. "I mean it when I say you can call me anytime."
"That's sweet and all," Dally said, his voice cold, "but you don't give a guy like me your home address. You do that and one day you'll come home to an empty house."
Dally held the card up and slowly tore it into small pieces. "Doc, you need a serious dose of reality. You ain't gonna save me … I don't need savin'. Take your bleedin' heart elsewhere and find someone who gives a shit." He tossed the pieces on the ground at the doctor's feet and walked away.
"Get a move on, Winston. My grandma moves faster than you do," Tim yelled from the car, his voice laced with irritation.
"Then how were you able to get this tuff car away from her? Did ya have to shoot her or something?" Dally retorted, slowing down his pace to aggravate Tim.
"Fuck you, Dally," Tim said with a casual flip of the bird. "Someone placed an order for a metallic green Vista Cruiser. I'm simply fulfilling a request."
"Someone who has awful taste, or is blind, or both. What if someone I know sees me in this thing?" Dally joked, enjoying the growing frustration that furrowed Tim's brow.
Once Dally was inside the car, Tim pulled away from the curb. "So who the hell was that guy, Winston?"
"Just a loser who actually believes in the system and thinks I need to be redeemed or saved - some pathetic nonsense like that." Dally pulled his wallet out of the manila envelope and opened it to put in the cash they gave him before leaving. He earned fifty cents a day while locked up, and it wasn't lost on him that it was actually more than he legitimately made while on the outside. That amount pretty much equaled zero.
Tucked inside the worn leather was a card identical to the one he'd shredded moments earlier. He let out a surprised laugh. Fucking Doc, he thought in admiration. He was going to tear this one up, too, but changed his mind at the last minute. He'd let the guy win this battle; it wasn't like he was ever going to call him, anyway.
"So where do you want me to drop you off? I can take you to see that quiet kid, Cade. Heard from Curly that he got himself some foster parents or somethin'. He got the address from the youngest Curtis kid," Tim explained, his eyes on the road.
"Sure, whatever," Dally said nonchalantly, but his stomach suddenly felt unsettled. It was a sensation he couldn't describe, like he was nervous. It was just Johnny - he could see Johnny. Now that he was out of jail, all those weird dreams and flashes would stop. Everything would go back to normal.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Dally asked, staring dumfounded at the house Tim had pulled up to. He couldn't imagine Johnny in a house like that. It was big and well-kept, like something out of one of those Frank Capra movies Pony drug him to before Pony caught on that he didn't like to sit still and be quiet during anything, especially long, boring-ass movies. All that it was missing was a white picket fence and a rainbow filling the sky above it.
"Nope," Tim said, double-checking the crumpled piece of paper he was holding. "This is definitely the right address. Not bad, huh? Kid did okay for himself - well, besides that whole crippled and confined to a wheelchair stuff. I'll wait here incase he ain't home."
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Dally repeated like a mantra as he made his way to the front door and rang the doorbell.
The door opened after a minute or two. A big guy filled the doorway and warning bells sounded in Dally's head before he'd even realized he recognized the guy.
"Shit," he said as he took an instinctive step back. The guy in the doorway did the same thing; only his hand went to his hip, as though he was reaching for a gun. Thankfully he didn't have one.
They stared at each other in silence, like a scene from one of those cowboy movies where the two men wait to see who would draw first. It turned out it was going to be the big guy who took the first step.
"Dallas Winston," he said slowly.
"Some guy who's arrested me," Dally mimicked his slow drawl as he narrowed his eyes.
"Tom Martin," the guy supplied. "Not surprised you wouldn't remember. That's a lot of names to remember when it comes to the cops who've arrested you."
Dally hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, trying to look casual and non-plussed. "Seen one, ya seen 'em all," he shrugged.
The shock of finding a cop at the door of the house Tim claimed was Johnny's new home was beginning to wear off. Dally wouldn't be surprised to find that the entire thing was concocted by Shepard as some sort of stupid practical joke.
"Does Johnny Cade live here?" he asked suspiciously, looking Tom straight in the eye. Tom's shoulders sagged slightly, as though he just realized why Dallas Winston would be at his front door.
"Yeah, he does. He's at Ponyboy's until later tonight." Dally turned on his heel without comment.
"Winston," Tom said suddenly, "they did release you, right?"
"What? 'Fraid I escaped?" Dally asked with a laugh.
"The thought did cross my mind. Especially with Tim Shepard sitting in my driveway in what is probably a stolen car," Tom said dryly, and Dally was surprised to hear some humor his voice.
"Nah, it ain't stolen. Belongs to his grandma," Dally explained as he made his way to the idling station wagon.
"Sure it does," Tom called after him before he shut the front door.
Once inside the car, Dally immediately noticed the sly, shit-eating grin that was spread across Tim's face.
"You, asshole. You knew about the cop, didn't you?" he grumbled.
Tim shrugged, "So what if I did? I needed a good laugh today. So, where to?"
"The Curtis's - unless they've been adopted by the fucking President of the United States and nobody told me."
Tim was still grinning. "Nah, I'm pretty sure it was the Queen of England."
"Johnny, how is it that you have almost all of my money?" Soda asked with a laugh as he tossed his cards face down on the table, opting out of the hand.
At first Johnny didn't answer, he simply raised an eyebrow as he studied the cards he was holding. "Just lucky, I guess," he said with a lopsided grin.
Ponyboy snorted from his chair at the table - his hand already folded in front of him, his pile of money consisting of a handful of pennies and three nickels. "Johnny, tell 'em how much money I owe you from when we were in Windrixville."
Johnny shrugged nonchalantly. "Hundred and fifty bucks."
Two-Bit gave a low whistle. "Geez, Darry you're gonna have to get a third job just to cover Pony's gambling debts."
"Yeah, I'll get right on that, Two-Bit," Darry said from the sink where he was washing the dishes from lunch.
"Looks like we've got a hustler here," Soda added, gently punching Johnny in the arm.
"Or Pony just really sucks at poker," Steve said sarcastically as he threw down one card and impatiently waited for Soda deal him a new one.
Soda looked at Two-Bit and Johnny to see if either one wanted more cards. Johnny nodded slightly and slid two cards across the table. Two-Bit shrugged and passed over four. Steve gave him a disgusted look before dropping ten cents into the pot. The other two followed suit and the betting was done, it was time to lay down their cards.
Steve proudly showed his full house - tens and eights. Two-Bit laid down his hand and to no one's surprise, he had absolutely nothing, just a lone ace. Johnny kept his face blank as he calmly presented his cards, a straight flush - king high. There was a tense pause for a moment while everyone studied the cards, then Two-Bit let out a loud cheer.
"Glory, kid, we should take a road trip to Vegas and clean them out," Two-Bit said as Johnny gathered the pile of coins.
Steve didn't look as thrilled. "You're cheating or something. I ain't figured it out, but it's gotta be something," he said steadily as he pointed an accusing finger at his quiet friend.
Soda slid his chair back, the legs screeching on the old linoleum. "Hey," he said, his voice suddenly low and threatening, the laughter gone.
Ponyboy cleared his throat nervously. "Steve, do you think that maybe, uh … you just really suck at poker?"
Steve looked like he wanted to punch him and everyone held their breath in anticipation. Darry was poised to strike if Steve so much as flinched towards his little brother. Suddenly, a thud sounded on the porch, drawing everyone's attention and deflating the uneasy tension.
A shadow was moving back and forth in front of the window, as though someone was pacing on their porch.
"Who is it?" Pony whispered as though the figure could hear him from clear across the house.
Johnny rolled his chair a couple of feet into family room and squinted to see through the dingy drapes. He looked back at the rest of the guys and smiled.
"It's Dal."
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A/N - Yay, Dally's out of jail, lol. I'm nervous about posting this because this site has been acting so strange lately, but I have no patience.
Thanks again for all the reviews.
