Teasing Fate |The Outsiders|

05. The East Side Symphony

"I FOUGHT THE LAW AND THE LAW WON." - Buddy Holly (I Fought The Law)

***

Sitting in her kitchen wasn't as bad as it could've been. I've been in there before, but that was usually after a Rumble, when my eyes were too swollen to really see, or when Curly managed to get the flu and Missus C said to bring him over to her's. It was nice, for a house its size, especially when you think of all the guys running through the halls day in and day out. From what Dal's said -- and I take everything he says with a grain of salt -- some of their parents have swung by, start screaming empty threats. Every time, Mr. C answers with a cocked shotgun. Apparently, he's a pretty decent shot with it, too.

I was racking my memory as soon as I stepped outta the house, but I'm pretty sure that was the first time I had ever been there without Dally or Curly dragging me along. I almost laughed as the road turned from asphalt to gravel again and took the turn onto my street. If anyone here caught me coming outta Marley Curtis' place, rumours would fly faster than a cat with a mat on its tail. Then, her brothers would be beating down my door and taking turns kicking my ass.

They'd have to get used to it, I guess. Everybody knew here was better than the inside of some old reform school, but everybody knew that's where I'd end up if I broke another condition of my parole. But hey, as long as I "tried", there ain't a damn thing anyone could do about it. Not George, not Mr. R, and definitely not little miss Marley Curtis.

I passed the sixteen houses lining the street with my hands jammed in the pockets of my jacket. My popped collar didn't do much to keep the wind out as it whistled in my ears and stung my eyes. As usual, you could hear yelling coming from every house on the street. The sound came from the cracks in their windows, their open doors, or straight from their mouths -- sometimes, people lacked the decency to confront their cheating spouse away from prying ears. Jesus, who was I kidding? The rumour mill was operational seven days a week. If you were two-timing your missus, we're gonna hear about it.

"You slimy sonuvabitch- think you can come into my house and fuck my wife while I'm gone?"

Crying wives, screaming husbands, hoodlum kids, and breaking glass. They all melted together into some sort of east side symphony, one you didn't need tickets to attend. And unlike the ones on the west side, people would be talking about what went down here for a week at least.

I was six houses away when I heard the door creak open. It was more of a slam, but it wasn't slamming shut. That's when my eyes landed on the mess of curly hair sprawled across our lawn and I felt my heart stop. You fucking dipshit, Curls, I taught you better than this, didn't I? Before I could stop myself, I was running down the street like Judgment Day came early. My nails were digging into my palm as they wrapped around my switchblade, but that was a problem for later. I was a bull in its pen, not worried about the ache in my lungs or the blood dribbling down my fingers, just my brother writhing like a toddler on the ground and the ugly fuck leering over him. "Think you're tough shit, kid? Tryna be a man like your Daddy, ain't you? Where'd that get him again?"

I was close enough now I could see the blood leaking from my brother's face and the bright purple shiner circling Gary's beady eye. Angela was standing on the doorstep, shouting enough profanities to make a sailor blush with her arms wrapped around Mom's waist. She was clawing like a bear, screaming just as much as her daughter. Gary didn't take much notice, all he was concerned with was keeping his foot on Curly's chest and pinning him to the ground.

I was on the edge of the grass now, parallel with our rusty, dented mailbox sitting lopsided on its stand. Even with blood running out of his face and trailing its way through his hair and a guy who probably outweighed him by a good two-hundred pounds, I could still see his eyes shining underneath the bruises. "This is getting your dick real hard, ain't it, Gary? Beating on me is the only way you can make my momma scream."