Susan Hinton - The Outsiders

I turned and ran out the door and down the street as fast as I could. Darry screamed, “Pony, I didn’t mean to!” but I was at the lot by then and pretended I couldn’t hear. I was running away. It was plain to me that Darry didn’t want me around. And I wouldn’t stay if he did. He wasn’t ever going to hit me again.

“Johnny?” I called, and started when he rolled over and jumped up almost under my feet. “Come on, Johnny, we’re running away.”

Johnny asked no questions. We ran for several blocks until we were out of breath. Then we walked. I was crying by then. I finally just sat down on the curb and cried, burying my face in my arms. Johnny sat down beside me, one hand on my shoulder. “Easy, Ponyboy,” he said softly, “we’ll be okay.”

I finally calmed down and wiped my eyes on my bare arm. My breath was coming in quivering sobs. “Gotta cigarette?”

He handed me one and struck a match.

“Johnny, I’m scared.”

“Well, don’t be. You’re scarin’ me. What happened? I never seen you bawl like that.”

“I don’t very often. It was Darry. He hit me. I don’t know what happened, but I couldn’t take him hollering at me and hitting me too. I don’t know… sometimes we get along okay, then all of a sudden he blows up on me or else is naggin’ at me all the time. He didn’t use to be like that… we used to get along okay… before Mom and Dad died. Now he just can’t stand me.”

“I think I like it better when the old man’s hittin’ me.” Johnny sighed. “At least then I know he knows who I am. I walk in that house, and nobody says anything. I walk out, and nobody says anything. I stay away all night, and nobody notices. At least you got Soda. I ain’t got nobody.”

“Shoot,” I said, startled out of my misery, “you got the whole gang. Dally didn’t slug you tonight ’cause you’re the pet. I mean, golly, Johnny, you got the whole gang.”

“It ain’t the same as having your own folks care about you,” Johnny said simply. “It just ain’t the same.”

I was beginning to relax and wonder if running away was such a great idea. I was sleepy and freezing to death and I wanted to be home in bed, safe and warm under the covers with Soda’s arm across me. I decided I would go home and just not speak to Darry. It was my house as much as Darry’s, and if he wanted to pretend I wasn’t alive, that was just fine with me. He couldn’t stop me from living in my own house.

“Let’s walk to the park and back. Then maybe I’ll be cooled off enough to go home.”

“Okay,” Johnny said easily. “Okay.”

Things gotta get better, I figured. They couldn’t get worse. I was wrong.

THE PARK WAS ABOUT two blocks square, with a fountain in the middle and a small swimming pool for the little kids. The pool was empty now in the fall, but the fountain was going merrily. Tall elm trees made the park shadowy and dark, and it would have been a good hangout, but we preferred our vacant lot, and the Shepard outfit liked the alleys down by the tracks, so the park was left to lovers and little kids.

Nobody was around at two-thirty in the morning, and it was a good place to relax and cool off. I couldn’t have gotten much cooler without turning into a popsicle. Johnny snapped up his jeans jacket and flipped up the collar.

“Ain’t you about to freeze to death, Pony?”

“You ain’t a’woofin’,” I said, rubbing my bare arms between drags on my cigarette. I started to say something about the film of ice developing on the outer edges of the fountain when a sudden blast from a car horn made us both jump. The blue Mustang was circling the park slowly.

Johnny swore under his breath, and I muttered, “What do they want? This is our territory. What are Socs doing this far east?”

Johnny shook his head. “I don’t know. But I bet they’re looking for us. We picked up their girls.”

“Oh, glory,” I said with a groan, “this is all I need to top off a perfect night.” I took one last drag on my weed and ground the stub under my heel. “Want to run for it?”

“It’s too late now,” Johnny said. “Here they come.”

Five Socs were coming straight at us, and from the way they were staggering I figured they were reeling pickled. That scared me. A cool deadly bluff could sometimes shake them off, but not if they outnumbered you five to two and were drunk. Johnny’s hand went to his back pocket and I remembered his switchblade. I wished for that broken bottle. I’d sure show them I could use it if I had to. Johnny was scared to death. I mean it. He was as white as a ghost and his eyes were wild-looking, like the eyes of an animal in a trap. We backed against the fountain and the Socs surrounded us. They smelled so heavily of whiskey and English Leather that I almost choked. I wished desperately that Darry and Soda would come along hunting for me. The four of us could handle them easily. But no one was around, and I knew Johnny and I were going to have to fight it out alone. Johnny had a blank, tough look on his face — you’d have had to know him to see the panic in his eyes. I stared at the Socs coolly. Maybe they could scare us to death, but we’d never let them have the satisfaction of knowing it.

It was Randy and Bob and three other Socs, and they recognized us. I knew Johnny recognized them; he was watching the moonlight glint off Bob’s rings with huge eyes.

“Hey, whatta ya know?” Bob said a little unsteadily, “here’s the little greasers that picked up our girls. Hey, greasers.”

“You’re outa your territory,” Johnny warned in a low voice. “You’d better watch it.”

Randy swore at us and they stepped in closer. Bob was eyeing Johnny. “Nup, pal, yer the ones who’d better watch it. Next time you want a broad, pick up yer own kind — dirt.”

I was getting mad. I was hating them enough to lose my head.

“You know what a greaser is?” Bob asked. “White trash with long hair.”

I felt the blood draining from my face. I’ve been cussed out and sworn at, but nothing ever hit me like that did. Johnnycake made a kind of gasp and his eyes were smoldering.

“You know what a Soc is?” I said, my voice shaking with rage. “White trash with Mustangs and madras.” And then, because I couldn’t think of anything bad enough to call them, I spit at them.

Bob shook his head, smiling slowly. “You could use a bath, greaser. And a good working over. And we’ve got all night to do it. Give the kid a bath, David.”

I ducked and tried to run for it, but the Soc caught my arm and twisted it behind my back, and shoved my face into the fountain. I fought, but the hand at the back of my neck was strong and I had to hold my breath. I’m dying, I thought, and wondered what was happening to Johnny. I couldn’t hold my breath any longer. I fought again desperately but only sucked in water. I’m drowning, I thought, they’ve gone too far… A red haze filled my mind and I slowly relaxed.

The next thing I knew I was lying on the pavement beside the fountain, coughing water and gasping. I lay there weakly, breathing in air and spitting out water. The wind blasted through my soaked sweat shirt and dripping hair. My teeth chattered unceasingly and I couldn’t stop them. I finally pushed myself up and leaned back against the fountain, the water running down my face. Then I saw Johnny.

He was sitting next to me, one elbow on his knee, and staring straight ahead. He was a strange greenish-white, and his eyes were huger than I’d ever seen them.

“I killed him,” he said slowly. “I killed that boy.”

Bob, the handsome Soc, was lying there in the moonlight, doubled up and still. A dark pool was growing from him, spreading slowly over the blue-white cement. I looked at Johnny’s hand. He was clutching his switchblade, and it was dark to the hilt. My stomach gave a violent jump and my blood turned icy.