A Day In The Life Of Dallas Winston
Chapter : Brother Johnny
Okay, here it is, the final chapter. All rights go to S.E. Hinton. Please review! All feedback is welcome!
Charlie and I were walking down the walk after lifting some necessities for the gang. The rundown building fronts and polluted city air screamed New York. We were taking some first aid supplies and food back to our hangout. The last rumble had whipped us all good and we'd only just barely won. Charlie and I were the least banged up with bruises everywhere, a black eye, a broken nose, busted and bruised knuckles, bruised ribs, and broken toes. Kicking the shit out of people isn't such a great idea in worn down sneakers. They others had the bright idea of wearing worn down steel-toed boots.
I was telling Charlie about how they showed us up and made us look like lower life hoods when a shadow grabbed me by the jacket and hauled me into the alley between the brick buildings. Charlie followed after me and the guy. He tossed me into the wall which pissed me off. I smiled darkly, barely noting that it was the leader from the gang we just beat down. Four more of his boys came up behind him and grabbed Charlie. Even in their busted up shape, they outnumbered us. I escaped the leader's grasp with a knee to the gut and swiftly knocked out one of the grunts by slamming his head into the wall. We tried to fight, but they weren't happy our gang whipped their asses so as I'm cussing a blue streak at them and trying to help Charlie who's getting beaten to a pulp, I'm also getting knocked around more. Finally, I hear them drop my buddy, who doesn't get up, and see a flash of light as I get hit once too many in the head. I also drop into unconsciousness.
I wake up to an empty room. My few possessions are spread out right where I left them, but nobody woke me up. I busted the clock when I threw it at Buck last week so I had no way of knowing the time, but it looked like a decent hour of about twelve. That wouldn't leave too much time that I'd have to kill out of boredom.
I swing my legs over and sit up, my feet on the cold floor. I rub my eyes and stretch, thinking about my dream. New York sure was tough, but I think Charlie's death was the only thing that got to me. I blocked it out of course, but there aren't as many defenses when you're asleep so when you're awake, you have to build them back up again. I push back the swirl of emotions in me and force myself to forget about Charlie. Forget about him being a pal, forget him teaching you how to survive, forget him bailing you out of jail, forget him...forget... And so I did.
I grab a shirt hanging on the bed post and put it on real quick so I can get moving. I don't like sitting still in one place for long. My jacket was hanging on the back of the cheap chair in the corner of the room and I grabbed that too before heading out. Buck's was quiet this early, but I didn't talk to him and he didn't talk to me so I just kept walking and out the door.
I walked for awhile a made it to the Dingo. There were a few guys I knew so I chatted with them. Word was that everyone was shocked that I stood up for that kid last week. I was mad that was the rumor. I grabbed a handful of the shirt the guy was wearing and hissed, "Oh yeah? That's what they're saying went down, huh?" He nodded, trying his best not to look scared. Louder I said angrily, "Well make sure you set it straight: I wasn't doing it for the kid, I was doing it as an excuse to beat up somebody. I don't give a rat's ass about some kid dying in the dirt. Hell, I wouldn't give a damn if it were my old man. The only thing I do is look out for number one- me." I pointed at myself for extra measure and shoved the guy back. I think he got the point and would be fixing the rumor mill from here. I looked around at the people staring at me. The fun was over, time to move on. I continued to seethe and stormed away. I was good at making scenes and then pretending I didn't care because I didn't.
Johnny greeted me from the Curtis porch. He and Pony were out sitting on the steps and chain smoking. Pony looked annoyed at something which explained why they weren't in the house. It was a nice enough day out, but that wasn't something they did. "Hey guys. What's up?" I ask, motioning towards Pony's smoke.
He didn't look at me, he was still busy staring off at a spot in the grass. "Smoking, what's it look like?" he quipped. It wasn't like him to get snippy like that. It wasn't like any of the gang to get snippy with me, let alone the youngest and shiest member. Suddenly he looked up at me and paled, remembering that.
To live up to my image I smacked him hard across the back of the head, but I wasn't really mad. "No shit, Sherlock. I mean what's got your panties in a twist?" He and Johnny were my closest pals in the gang, although I don't know why. We couldn't be more different, but I always found myself hanging out with the two of them and trying to get them to follow my evil ways. I was glad I wasn't rubbing off on them though, they wouldn't be special if they started taking after me. Especially not Ponyboy because we all knew that kid was going somewhere and I refused to be the one to get in the way of that.
He sighed and blew out the smoke. "Nothing, just me and Darry not getting along is all." His face was expressionless, shut down.
This shocked me. I didn't think there was anything stronger than the Curtis brothers. I took what had to have been his fifth straight cigarette and took a hit. "Since when do you and muscles not get along?"
His head shot up and I could see anger desperately trying to be let out. The kid was too smart for that though and we both knew it. Johnny was getting antsy though so he stepped in. "Look, Dal, they've just been arguing a lot lately. Things have been hard since," he swallowed hard, "the accident. It's all talk though, Darry would never actually hurt Pony."
Mr. and Mrs. Curtis's accident was hard on all of us. They were the parents we all wished we had, minus Two-Bit. I always thought that would make the brothers grow stronger, not fall apart. Johnny was right, Darry would never hurt either of his brothers. "You want me to talk to him?"
He looked embarrassed. "No! We're just not getting along, it's fine. It's nothing I can't handle."
I shrugged, not about to get into it with a 13 year-old kid. It was his business. "Whatever. Just tell one of us if you need us to step in. We've all got too many problems for you Curtis' to fall apart. Seriously, your house is practically Johnny and Steve's too."
He nodded, looking shameful. I'm sure that his innocent self was probably thinking it was wrong for him to bitch when the rest of us have it so much worse. He was right. He had brothers that loved him, a safe house to live in, school, and a bright future while the rest of us had shit, again minus Matthews. I was a young hood with an all around shitty life, dad who could care less about me, never knew my mom, arrested at age ten, living in the streets in New York, coming to Tulsa, gang fights and then the never ending fight against the Socs, no address. Johnny had two abusive drunk parents who had never shown him a speck of love. Steve had a drunk father who kicked him out every other week, mother long left. Even Matthews had a father he never knew and a mother he barely saw because she worked so hard to support two kids. All Pony had to complain about was two dead parents that everyone loved and now an older brother he 'argued' with. No, he had no right to complain.
Johnny wouldn't feel the same way, but I knew Pony and I got it. I didn't have to say a word which was rare because he and I weren't that close. He and Johnny were, but not me. Johnny flicked away his cancer stick and we went inside. Darry was at work and so was Soda and Steve. Two-Bit probably hadn't even rolled out of bed yet. It was just us three. I flicked on the TV but there wasn't anything on so I got out the cards and we sat playing poker for a few hours. We bet cancer sticks since none of us were working. My gig at the Slash J wasn't exactly permanent, more like a pay as you show up kind of deal. Pony had the worst poker face, but Johnny ended up winning most hands. I couldn't ever figure out how he cheated, but he had a knack for the game. I was proud of him for it, not that I'd ever say it.
About four, I left. I wanted to go shoot some pool, but I knew they weren't supposed to be around Buck's. Besides, another couple hours and Darry or Soda would be getting off work and I'd probably come back. I didn't want to babysit the kids the whole day. When I got there I saw Tim and- well look who got out early- Curly playing a game. Curly had stitches on his forehead and I smirked. He paled when he noticed me watching the game and took a step back. Tim looked over his shoulder at me.
"You son of a bitch! You hurt my brother, Winston!" Tim comes up to me and glares, ready to take a swing at me. I forgot he was mad at me.
I shrug. "He deserved it. Shoulda known better than to punch me in the face. It's my best feature, y'know." I smirk.
He chuckles, his anger slowly fading. I didn't think he'd be mad at me for long considering he was the one that put his brother up to it in the first place. "Winston, you have no best feature."
"And I'm still better looking than you, Tim!" Even Curly laughs at that, despite being extra weary of me.
He glares at me, but then lets up a smile. "Okay, Dally, I'll play yah for it. You win, I'm better looking. I win, you're better looking."
I narrow my eyes and take Curly's cue stick. He lets me and sits on the empty table next to us. "You slimy greaser. You just know you can't win any other way." He knows I hate losing and he set it up so there is no way to win. However, I can't say no to something like that. Tim smiles at me, but doesn't say anything. I break and he shoots solids while I take stripes. Halfway through the game, I'm still trying to figure out which game I want to win. I look up at the window and see the sun starting to set. I have an uneasy feeling growing in my stomach. Something's not right and it's not with me. "Let's finish this some other time, Tim." I say seriously.
Tim looks up. "What, can't handle the competition?" He stares closely at me, just as serious. He shrugs, "Whatever. You know where to find me when you're ready for me to say 'I win.'"
I laugh uneasily. "Yeah, whatever you say, Tim." I nod to Curly who takes my place and leave. I want to see Johnny. I try to hitch a ride, but nobody is stupid enough to give a hood like me a ride so I jog to the neighborhood. It's a good fifteen to twenty minutes before I reach his house, but his parents are fighting so I doubt that he's here. I walk, with a growing sense of dread, towards the Curtis's. Something's not right. Where's Johnny? I want Johnny. I need to make sure he's okay. Up ahead I see Soda and Steve break into a run towards the lot. I'm still pretty far away, but I run the rest of the way getting there about the same time as Darry, Pony, and Two-Bit.
I don't understand what I'm seeing. Why isn't Johnny here? Soda and Steve are crouched on the ground by a dark lump on the ground. Soda gently rolls it over, it's Johnny! I have to look away. He's beat up beyond anything I've ever seen, even in New York. Charlie had been beaten to death and even he hadn't looked this bad. No, no, no! It can't be, please don't be Johnny! You can't be dead!
He groans. I whip around to look at back at him and ignore his wounds. I focus just on the fact that he's alive. He's alive. He's going to be okay. He stirs in his state unconsciousness and Soda hold him. I wish I was in his place, but for so many stupid reasons I can't. I'm at war inside myself between pain over Johnny, my brother, and vengeance for Johnny. It was so obviously the Socs. I couldn't believe they would come this far into our turf and do something like this. That was more than ballsy, that was suicidal. I had to make sure that Johnny was okay before I could do anything though. He was my number one priority and I hated that! I hated that he was hurt and I hated that I couldn't do anything about it.
"S-Soda?" Johnny called weakly. His small voice had so much fear and pain, I wanted to puke. There was nothing I could do to comfort him, I couldn't control myself to do that. He couldn't even open his eyes because of the swelling. Soda answered softly just like he would to Pony when he was sick. Soda knew how to take care of things like this, he knew how to comfort people he cared about. I didn't and it made me sick. I started pacing behind the gang angrily as Johnny started sobbing and choked out his story. I wanted to rip him out of Soda's arms and place him in my own, to comfort him, to take his pain away, but I couldn't. I was afraid of hurting him worse and I couldn't even find my voice. I wanted to go and rip out every last Socs throat and then find the ones who did this and make them suffer a slow and agonizing death, but I couldn't because Johnny needed me. He needed all of us right now and there was no way I could leave him. There was no way I would leave him because all I could do right now was give him my presence to show him I cared and if I couldn't do that, then what right did I have to call him my brother, even if only in my head and not aloud?
We took him back to the house. He passed out as soon as Darry picked him up and I would have pounced on him if the gang hadn't held me back. I'd have let him put Johnny down first, but I guess they didn't want me killing Darry either. We quickly rushed into the house and he put Johnny down on the sofa. I crouched down next to him and did what I had wanted to do since we found him, comfort him in some way. I held his limp hand. He still hadn't woken yet, but that was probably best because Darry was cleaning his wounds. He winced and flinched a few times, but I don't think he was awake for any of it. I counted each time though and kept a mental note to punch something for every one. He had a few cracked ribs, tons of bruises, and a cut on his cheek that would stay with him all his life. The swelling was starting to go down at least which was a good sign. The others all stayed close by and crashed here, but I stayed by his side the whole night.
He never said who did which pissed me off, but I knew he was just trying to protect us rather than them. We'd get jailed for murder if we ever did find them. That was a promise. They'd be dead before they hit the dirt because I'd kill them and I knew the gang would either help me or egg me on. Nobody messes with Dallas Winston and nobody messes with Dallas Winston's brother, Johnny Cade.