Chapter 6: Hippie Rally
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own "The Outsiders" or any of the Curtis' Gang. Sigh. The real owner of "The Outsiders" is my favorite author, the fabulous S.E. Hinton. I also do not make a profit from the stories that I write here on this site.
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Ponyboy's POV
I wanted a job, but having Steve bark orders at you during the busiest time of the day was not what I had expected. I think he was enjoying making me mad and barking orders at me, which made me even madder, but I managed not to snap for the rest of the afternoon. It was going to be one of many long days; but I also enjoyed it.
At least I had enough money for food and necessities. Bills, though, were piling up and I didn't have enough money to pay them. Soda's army check was more than he made at the DX, though it wasn't supporting us; the extra money only fueled Darry's drinking, but that money supply had now been cut off.
My visits to Soda's grave were happening less and less. School and my job at the DX kept me busy.
Steve told me that he would go to a hippy rally with me when I asked him earlier today. We both already asked for Saturday off for it. He said it's risky, but I didn't care.
Steve's POV
"End the war! Bring our soldiers home!" I heard someone yell. Pony was next to me looking excited to be amongst all the hippies.
We were in the middle of Tulsa, on the greaser side.
Everything was going okay until I heard the sirens. People everywhere were pushing and running so fast that I lost Ponyboy. When I turned around I saw him being handcuffed; he was struggling to escape.
One of the cops finally had enough of us greasers and started to physically handcuff us. He used one of those long black batons to hit some people, and then I saw he turned his attention onto hitting Ponyboy.
I ran towards Ponyboy through the crowd, and grabbed his arm. I could hear the cops shouting and running after us, but I kept pulling Ponyboy along; I had to get him out of there.
I finally stopped when we got further east. "You alright?" I asked.
His face was constructed in pain and his arms were wrapped around his stomach which was where he got hit the most.
"Pull your shirt up," I commanded him. When he did, there were dark bruises covering his ribs and abdomen.
"Pony, I think they might be broken," I informed him. Pony groaned in response. There was a cut across his chest that might need stitches too.
"Look, let's go back home and I can stitch you up," I told him. "It's hard to stitch yourself," I added, seeing how he was going to argue.
Ponyboy's POV
"Ow," I hissed. Steve shrugged an apology.
"Almost there, sit still," Steve told me.
"Yeah yeah," I muttered. He had poured alcohol over my cut, which stung and made me kinda aggravated. Not at Steve, but at the cops. Weren't they supposed to 'protect' us? I internally gave a bitter laugh because cops don't care about greasers.
"Alright, you're all stitched up," Steve told me.
"Thanks." I wasn't just thanking him for stitching up my cut and ribs; I was thanking him for being there for me today.
Aufenthaltd Gold,
~Alee