Golden Greaser

- 20 -

     "Darry, you're turnin' into one of them federals..." Steve remarked. "I'm almost beginning to feel like I was the one who killed the kid."

     "Shut your mouth, dimwit."

     "Jeez," Steve smirked, giving his words a long drawl. "I didn't know it was that hard to take a joke nowadays,"

    "Steve..." I glared at him.

    "I said shut your mouth." Darry growled, flipping through the newspaper again. "I don't need none of your foolishness pilin' on more than it already has."

    "Yeah, buddy..." Soda yawned. "I think it'd be best if you'd lay off."

     Steve mumbled a few things underneath his breath, giving dirty looks to both me and Darry before finally shutting his big fat mouth.

     I glanced around the room.

    Soda was half-asleep in the recliner, and Two-Bit had already burned through about four beers and three of the five burgers he'd brought from the Dingo for us to eat. 

    Unfortunately, the only thing I had been able to find for Darry was the evenin' post newspaper that read:

    "Tulsa police have reported that a body was found at Clearwater park this morning at around six, and has been identified as eighteen-year old, Robert "Bob" Sheldon. No suspects have been identified, but witnesses are cooperating at this time. An investigation is still underway as the police department works to find the culprit."

     Of course, he wasn't happy with just that. I'm almost certain he'd read that paper almost sixteen times, looking for something that wasn't even there.

     The heat kicked on, dispersing the quietness of the room. My eyes went to the clock. 9:45.

      I felt a pang of anxiety hit me at that moment, because the hope of Pony and Johnny showing up safe and sound was turning into a doubtful possibility.

    "Alright, well, I'm gonna head home." Two-Bit announced. "Momma's prolly workin' late tonight and I don't want lil' Lisa at the house alone."

   "See ya' Two." Soda waved.

   "See ya'll..." He stopped at the door frame. "If I hear anythin' I'll let ya' know, Darry."

    Darry broke his gaze from the paper. 

    "Thanks, Two. I 'preciate it."

   "Yeah." He waved all of us farewell. "Night, guys."

    "Hey, Two, wait for me..." Steve scrambled up from where he sat in the floor. "I've gotta get outta here, this is drivin' me nuts." 

    They chuckled faintly as the door closed behind the pair, leaving just me, Darry and Sodapop in the living room. 

   It was late. I was getting sleepy, and I was certain that the boys were worse off than I was. 

    Then all too quickly, the atmosphere of the room turned into a familiar, but eerie quiet. You could feel the tension coursing through the air. Really, it was probably thick enough to cut with a knife. 

    Finally, Soda's voice broke through the silence.

   "Darry..."

    "What." His tone was sharp.

   "I don't have a good feelin' about all this..." Sodapop stood up and began to pace. "I mean, Ponyboy ain't like that to just run off and not come back..."