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While things change around you, no matter how quickly and overwhelmingly they may seem to be adjusting, some stuff will stay permanent. Some things, without a doubt, will cease to grow with everything else. Those are things you can fully, and truly, rely on.
I walked to Barnes street, my feet taking me 580 paces to reach the doors of the convenient store I used to roam every week. Hanson passing was one of the first drastic changes in my life. I never thought I would heal from it. The truth is, I didn't. I learned to cope with the inevitable pain.
The sign on the door indicated that the shop was still closed. I stood there for a moment, peering through to the inside. It was desolate and lifeless as you could imagine an empty corner store would be. It filled my gut with an uneasy, sick feeling, making me take a step back from the window. I realized, the store could look like it had just been raided down to it's last item, but the amount of steps it took to carry me there would never change.
Times were bad. Dallas was being brought in for questioning about the death of Bob Sheldon. The word had gotten out that he was murdered, and everybody knew exactly who had done it. There was no escaping that. Every eye that crossed my path when I left the house stuck to me like glue as if I had strangled him myself. I knew it were the same way for the rest of the gang, especially the Curtis family. I hadn't seen them since the incident.
That's what catalyzed my decision to walk to Hanson's store, because the Curtis house was on the way. I knew I needed to go see them. It would seem off if I kept to myself, and I knew the family needed the emotional support. So I closed my eyes, took one last deep breath, and headed toward the house where I spent most of my days.
I asked Dallas if he wanted a ride to the station — I had no licence, or car, but that hadn't stopped me before — he refused and insisted on taking Buck's beaten down Thunderbird. I didn't argue and decided I'd go see him after. I knew Dallas wouldn't spill what happened to the police in a million years, they probably couldn't even beat it out of him. In fact, I was almost sure he was in there spewing a bunch of bullshit to the police and watching them eat it up like rabid dogs.
I trusted Dallas, I really did, but as much as I wanted to believe he would take care of everything, I couldn't help but imagine the worst had happened to Johnny and Ponyboy. In reality, there wasn't much bad that could have really happened to them. I simply wanted to see them face to face to abate my worries. Dallas was going to head out in a day or two, check up and get them some food, and I hoped he wouldn't mind me coming along.
As I approached the Curtis house, I couldn't help but roll over in the back of my mind how terrible of a liar I was. It was nearly impossible for me to look somebody in the eye and tell them anything but the truth. But I knew in this situation I would have to pull myself together and get through it.
