The Letter

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It couldn't have possibly seemed worse for poor Ricky, and at the look on his face I was ready to crack up.

Through that door, came the rest of the gang, Two-Bit and Steve. But trailing them was about half of the Shepard gang, and they were some tough looking guys. Poor Ricky must have thought that they were part of our gang, and just seeing his expression, with his mouth almost to the floor, didn't make me want to correct him.

Darry looked slightly exasperated, and Soda seemed to feel the same way about this as me. It was hilarious to us. The poor guy seemed completely overwhelmed, but then Darry casually stepped between our gang and the Shepards, being somewhat of a dividing line.

“What are you guys doin' here?” he said, addressing the other gang.

From the back, somewhere outside, a guy yelled, “We came to see Curtis!”

“Which one?” Soda yelled back.

“I dunno, send the little one!”

Darry looked at me worriedly, but then Soda leaned over and whispered something in his ear. He nodded. “Go ahead, Ponyboy.”

I moved through the crowd, and I felt like Moses, parting the Red Sea. Have you ever walked through a crowd of adolescent guys whose top priority isn't bathing? Yeah, not fun. When I reached the porch, I took a deep breath, and Tim Shepard stood there, arms crossed and an envelope in one hand. He shifted it to his left hand and held out his right, and we shook.

“What do you need, Shepard?”

He grinned, and I noticed how yellow his teeth were. Did he get that from drinking? Smoking? As if on cue, he pulled out a pack, and stuck one in his mouth. “Have a weed?”

Maybe smoking did do that to his teeth...eh, I'll just take this one. Then no more. “Yeah, thanks. So what's up?”

“Well,” he said, taking a drag. “I have people all over, and one of them said one of his guys gave this to him, and that I should give it to you.”

That sparked some curiosity. “What is it?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Damned if I know. It says 'Do Not Open' and it doesn't look like anyone has, so I ain't gonna be first. Rumor has it, it's from Texas. All I know is that it's been changin' hands for over a month. Must be mighty important.” Saying this, he handed the envelope to me. It was thick and a little heavy, at least for an envelope.

“If I were you, I wouldn't open it here,” said a voice behind me. I turned to find Darry, leaning against the doorway.

“Uh...okay, Darry.” His face was a mixture between worry, curiosity, and suspicion, and even though he always looked worried, I felt like this was actually a time to be worried.

“Well, uh, thanks Tim,” I said, throwing down my cigarette and stomping it under my heel.

“Yeah, yeah. You're a good kid, Pony. You're lucky to have such a wisecrack here,” Tim called to Darry, grinning.

Darry cocked an eyebrow, crossing his arms. I guess everyone looks like Two-Bit when they cock an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, it's about time he starts usin' brain, then he'll get back to you on that.”

Shepard laughed. “Hah, good one. Well, the boys and I'll get outta your hair. Catch ya later, grease,” he said, winking.

Darry and I trudged back into the house, which was a feat in itself, 'cause with all the Shepard guys leaving it was like walking against a current.

Soda saw us and propped himself up on his elbow. “What was that about?” he asked.

“Tim Shepard gave me an envelope,” I said, holding it up for him to see.

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