July Rumble

[murderofcrows]

oo, i think i finally got an inspiration for the rumble, i hope it fits in the guidelines...i'm thinking of doing a darry pov the night of the infamous nightly-double, when he's working, just exploring his emotions and reactions from the past 8 months of taking guardianship of his brothers, how it's kind of hard for him to get out and do much anymore because of his jobs, etc. i think it's sort of an "ordinary moment" it's darry at work lol

*edit* ok, does anyone know what darry's other job is? i mean, i assume he's not roofing some house at night...i was scouring the book but i couldn't find anything, but maybe i'm blind [it has happened before lol ]

[Nittanylizard]

No, it's never mentioned what his other job is. Sounds like a good idea for a fic, though.

[murderofcrows]

ok guess i get to have fun, then *rubs hands together and grins evilly*

damnit, i want it to be serious, though *banishes thought of making darry an exotic dancer by night, roofer by day*

[ash]

Rofl! I could imagine him even taking a stripper job to seriously!

[murderofcrows]

damnit, i'm going to have to write that one now, one of these days...the patrick swayze physique compels me...

[ash]

lol.

[murderofcrows]

ok, i got it done, but i dunno...i'm kinda scared stiff to just post it...will someone please volunteer to read it before i post it? i'll pm it to you. pwease? pwetty pwease with sodapop on top?

[murderofcrows]

ok now that i've slept on it, i feel much better about it...must've been posting fright lol ok here it is:

~~

I sighed heavily before I gathered my things and got out of the truck, preparing myself to face another shift of work after a day of work already. Usually my schedules weren’t so hectic, but lately it seemed that everything was going to hell. My friends and my little brother were going to the movies tonight, and instead of joining them and enjoying a relaxing evening just hanging out with familiar companions – even though movies weren’t really my thing – I was going to work again. Clocking in, I mused to myself, Is this all I do anymore?

It certainly seemed that way. Ever since our parents died, I had been put in a position of responsibility that, quite frankly, scared me. I was only twenty years old, I felt unprepared and ill-equipped to raise two teenagers by myself and still work enough to make ends meet. It had only been eight months, but it felt like ten years at least, the burden of responsibility falling heavier and heavier on my shoulders with each passing day. I was more tired than usual, and I snapped more at Ponyboy, something that I regretted every time. We used to have such a great relationship, but since our parents died we seemed to grow apart. Every time I thought about it, I was saddened; it was like I had lost my brother. Sure, he was still there, he came home from school every day and did his homework and watched sunsets, but he barely even spoke to me beyond a “Hey, Darry” or a “What’s for dinner?” anymore. I felt like I had lost him, but I didn’t know what to do to get him back; most times I felt it was too late, anyway, this legal guardian persona of mine had taken over and the big brother persona was gone. I tried to balance the two, but my big brother side rarely won out. Where there was once familiarity, there was now awkwardness. I knew he could sense it, too, and I knew that he was both confused and disheartened by it. Guilt flooded me; I should be a better brother. I should ask him more about how his day went, how he was feeling, what was going on in his world. While I may not understand it, I could at least listen and give him the time of day.

Time of day. And since when did I even have that, anymore? Between roofing and working here at the factory, I had precious little time to myself anymore. I used to have fun once, used to hang out with the gang more, used to go water-skiing with my old friends. Used to, used to, used to…I sound like a broken record. Sighing again, I tried to focus more on the work in front of me instead of letting my mind wander again. Pony’s rubbing off, I thought amusedly, reminding myself that if he were the one drifting off I would be reprimanding him. He needed to focus more, in general. His schoolwork was good, but I usually had to prompt him to do his homework. His common sense was practically non-existent, which bugged me to no end. I knew Pony was smart, but sometimes he sure didn’t show it.

Like today.

When I had heard him yelling, I had feared the worst. Flashbacks of Johnny were running through my head as my feet had pounded on the pavement, and with each step I had begged whatever higher power there may be to spare him the horror that Johnny had experienced. When I knew he was alright, relief had flooded me, followed quickly by frustration. He had been walking home alone…alone! He knew better! I knew he knew better. There was no question in my mind of him graduating high school, but it would be a miracle if he could survive the world that long with his common sense. Or lack thereof.

The bell whistled, signaling break time, and I meandered over to the break room for a cup of coffee. Nodding acknowledgement to my coworkers, I poured myself a cup and took a sip before I grimaced. It tasted like it had been sitting there forever, but I needed the pick-me-up, so I downed it as quickly as I could before chasing it with a cup of water to get the bitter aftertaste out of my mouth. If I was a smoker, I would have ducked outside for a smoke, but I was too proud of my physique to risk damaging it in any way. But, a step outside into the cool night air sounded refreshing.

Looking up at the stars, they reminded me of Ponyboy and his fascination with sunsets, star gazing, drawing and writing. He wouldn’t discuss anything like that with me, he probably thought I was too serious, but I enjoyed a good look at the stars. He probably never noticed, but whenever I yelled at him for taking too long taking the trash out because he was watching the sunset, I would always watch the sunset for a bit before telling him to hurry up. He never knew it, but we watched the sunsets together. It was like our thing to me, going out to the porch and watching the sunset while my youngest brother watched it from the driveway, the trashcan still in his hand.

I heard the bell whistle again, signaling break time was over. Back to the grind, again.

Stepping up to my workstation, I felt tired and worn out. I hoped that the rest of my shift would go by quickly so I could go home and relax under Sodapop’s skillful hands. Maybe tonight, I could change things… I thought. I’ll ask Pony about the movie, try to find out what’s going on with him, try to connect with him. I’ve tried so many times but it seems I just screw it up. Maybe tonight could be different, though. I longed to have the relationship we used to have as close-knit brothers and though I usually mused that it was too late to salvage our relationship, tonight I harbored hope that perhaps that wasn’t the case.

I felt that tonight was going to be a night of change, I just felt it. I would start tonight with Ponyboy. This weekend, I would try to reconnect with my old friends that I had recently been out of contact with. It didn’t have to be much, just a couple of phone calls; I could manage that. Maybe one day, I could go water-skiing again and be as careless and reckless as I used to be.

One day.

This decision put a lightness in my step as I left the factory floor. Yes, things were going to be different, starting tonight.

[ash]

This is pretty good. You showed a side of Darry that's really not seen.

[murderofcrows]

that's exactly what i wanted to do...i wanted to show that there's more to darry than sitting in the chair, reading the newspaper. there's a side of darry that regrets yelling at pony. a side that is scared, but determined. a side that is lonely. even a side that watches sunsets.

the poor guy is hardly ever given the time of day in most fanfics, though

[ash]

I know. Although it's funny when little kids (11-14, not really sure.) treat him as some old man that beats Pony with a newspaper from his armchair.

[murderofcrows]

lol yeah, i know...when you're that age, 20 seems really old, but now that i've reached 21 myself, i know that it really isn't all that old at all...maybe that's why it's easier to write in his perspective *shrug*

[Nittanylizard]

Wow, that was really good! I love the foreshadowing at the end, and the way it's got such a melancholy feel because we already know how the night will turn out.

Nice job. I'm really glad you posted it .

Liz

[murderofcrows]

and now thanks to you, it's posted on ff as well

[cooroo]

Well, this is a couple of firsts for me here. It's my first post here, my first ever response to a writing prompt, and my first ever piece about Johnny. I hope you guys enjoy it!


Everyone in the gang thinks they have to protect Johnny. Especially after he was jumped. We had all watched out for Johnny before that, with his folks and all, but afterwards, all of the gang was worried sick about him. It's calmed down lately, but I guess that there's something about Johnny Cade that makes people want to protect him, because Johnny's the one who people watch out for the most. I mean, even Dally gets protective over him and that's saying a lot.

But what's gettin' me is why? Johnny's lived 'round here just as long as everyone else. He's just as tough as everyone else, and he's part of the gang. Well, I guess that means that we all look out for him, but we all look out for each other in general. We wouldn't be a gang if we didn't.

Maybe it's the lost puppy look that he always seems to have. I'm not sure if anybody else has noticed it, but it's always there. At least, if you know him well, if you know that he carries that switchblade to defend himself instead of to look tuff and attack people with.

But I guess I'm not really allowed to be thinking this. It made sense a few weeks ago. I thought the same thing, that Johnny couldn't get on without the gang. And maybe he can't, maybe none of us could.

But he can defend himself without any of us being there. They know that, too. Johnny takes care of himself in rumbles and the like. But maybe they think that he wouldn't be able to cope with some Socs if none of us were there.

Johnny can cope alone, though. I know that now. Ever since I saw him with that Soc.

I had been walking home quite late at night, talking a shortcut down one of the back roads which Socs never use. They're too scared of us greasers, which, when you think about it, is strange because we hardly ever use that road. Tim Shepard's gang is nowhere near it, and I know Soda and Steve use it to get home from dropping their girls off sometimes, but I thought I was the only one who used it often.

So, even though it's one of the scariest looking roads around here, it's honestly one of the safest. I use it to get home whenever I'm in the area around my school. It's the quickest way, and when it's late – like it was then – it's a way to stop Darry from hollerin' at me.

So there I was, hurrying because it was near midnight. I had been at the bowling alley with some guys from school and we had only just left. Darry was gonna be mad, but I was hoping not too mad. I had called him on a payphone a little more than an hour earlier to make sure he knew where I was. He told me I could stay a little longer, but I don't think he meant until midnight. But he knew where I was – for once I used my head. It was a good thing it was a Friday night, though. I cut down this street and saw Johnny walking ahead of me. I started hurryin' to catch up, but Johnny suddenly walked straight into a Soc.

He was small, around my height and probably my age. He looked like a regular Soc, wearing madras and everything. I stepped forward, ready to go help Johnny out, but he had already flicked out his switchblade and the Soc took a step backwards. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Was somebody – a Soc, nothing less – actually acting wary of Johnnycake? His eyes were huge.

They were staring at each other, and though I was looking at the back of Johnny's head, I could imagine his expression. He'd have that slightly scared look on his face, the one where his eyes become even darker and slightly cold, wary and large, and he's breathing real slowly. It's the same expression he gets whenever Dally becomes dangerous.

Then the Soc spoke. It wasn't an insult. It wasn't even a threat. Instead, he simply said, “Um. Evenin'.”

Why would he say that? Of all things, he wishes Johnny a good evening?

Then Johnny replied. But it wasn't in his usual soft voice, the one you have to strain to hear. It was a low voice, sure, but it wasn't Johnnycake speaking. It was Johnny Cade, the tough hood. I've never thought of Johnny as a hood or a JD or anything like that before, but this was a Dallas Winston kinda voice – dangerous. “What're you doin' here, Soc?”

And suddenly the other guy is trippin' over his tongue trying to reply. “Look, I'm just passing through. I just want to get home.” Glory, he's pleading with Johnny! I realised with shock. “I'm not gonna try anything. Just let me go, please, I'll just leave, that's all.” It's almost like he expected Johnny to jump him or something. Well, I guess that switchblade is rather scary lookin', but he's Johnny for cryin' out loud!

Then for a second, I half expected Johnny to threaten this kid. He didn't move, apart from flexing the hand which was holding the blade, and suddenly the moment was over. Johnny jerked his head. “Get outta here, kid.”

The Soc stared at him as if he couldn't believe what Johnny was saying, then ran. I ducked into the shadows as he ran past me – not hard to do, seeing that most of the lights on that street weren't working – and turned to look at Johnny. I was expecting to see him looking at the Soc fearfully, but he wasn't. His black eyes were wary, sure, but they were cold. Not slightly cold like I had been expecting, but cold and hard like Dally's. Scary eyes. They actually made me shiver.

But when the Soc stepped at the end of the street, there was a flicker of fear in Johnny's eyes as they, once again, stared at one another. Then Johnny turned and started walking away, out of the circle of flickering light he had been standing in, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets after putting his switchblade away, and the Soc turned and ran. I caught up with Johnny and we walked to the lot together. He didn't mention the incident and neither did I. It felt like I had witnessed something too personal to talk about, plus I still couldn't believe that Johnny had scared a Soc away. I kept hearing that cold rough voice he had used and thinking of it made me shiver, just like his eyes had.

But none of the gang had ever heard that voice or seen Johnny's eyes that cold. They had never seen him as the tough hood the Soc and I had seen that night. They didn't know that Johnny was capable of scaring someone that badly. I had seen that Soc's eyes – he had been real frightened.

Johnny, though, hadn't taken advantage of it. Maybe he didn't realise just how scared the Soc was, but he hadn't even threatened him to stay out of a greaser neighbourhood. Well, maybe flipping out his blade could be seen as a threat, but I know that Johnny just hadn't wanted to be caught unaware. He had just let the Soc go. Steve or Dally would have given him a punch at least, but Johnny, after the initial shock, didn't just see a Soc; he also saw a scared kid who didn't deserve to be beaten up.

Well, I guess that's Johnny Cade for you.