September Rumble

[Tensleep]

I'm on time! But I find that the ten million things I have going on and the fact my brain is fried have hindered my thinking for this rumble. So it's not the best idea I've ever had - in fact, the inspiration came from somewhere very random, but here goes nothing!

Rumble, September 08:

And the Moral of the Story is...

Well, it's that time of year again where we all head back to school for 10 months of torture. So, let's try to forget about it, at least for this rumble.

Sometimes in life, we learn things outside of school that are much more important or even just much more fun than anything learned in the classroom. And usually, they stick with us a lot longer.

Write a story about one or more of the boys who learns something - anything - outside the classroom. Can be serious, humorous, etc. 6 pages max. Any POV.

Please copy, paste and post your entries under this tread so we can all enjoy them! I know there are some awesome imaginations on this forum. So get writing!

Tens

[murderofcrows]

oh man there's a million ways i could do this...i'm going to have to wait after this labor day weekend after i'm done being drunk all the time...once i sober up i'll decide on something lol

[Two-Bitty]

Something I can work with! I'm glad I have an idea.

Thanks for the prompt!

[murderofcrows]

ok, so, um, i couldn't really come up with anything...but as i was writing this [because i was going to write it anyway] i discovered that it kinda fit the rules of the challenge...so, i figured, what the hell, here it is:

-------------------------------------

"War will make corpses of us all"

Disclaimer: all characters belong to the wonderful Ms. Hinton, I simply play in her sandbox once in a while. The quote, I lifted from Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers extended edition. Since it's been so long since I've read the book, I can't say for sure whether or not the quote was also lifted from there and stuck in the movie. Anyway, the full quote is on this page, it's a bugger to scroll down, but it's in there. [ www.councilofelrond.com/modules.php?op=modload&name=Subjects&file=index&req=viewpage&pageid=67 ] Oh, and I almost forgot, there is a very brief passing mention of a quote from "Juno" in there...props to anyone who finds it.

--

I sat on my bed in my room, twirling my keys and looking at the pictures sitting on the desk and hanging on the wall before me. So many pictures, so many memories…football games, parties, ceremonies, all marked by photographs. And in almost every one of them, was my best friend. Bob Sheldon.

In one, he was grinning like mad after winning a football game, one arm slung around my shoulder and the other raised in victory. In another, we stood side by side along with Michael and David, dressed to the nines and ready to take our dates to the dance. In yet another, he jokingly held a glass of water over my head, threatening to tip it right when the picture was snapped. He hadn’t done it; after teasing me about it he simply withdrew the glass and flashed that crazy smile he was so infamous for. I had shaken my head, remarked something about him being crazy and he had laughed.

It was still hard to believe that he was really gone. We had done everything together, play sports, pick up girls, party. This year, we were going to graduate together, but now it was never going to happen, and all because of one night filled with bad decisions.

I had visited Johnny Cade earlier today. I was afraid of what he would think of me visiting him, if he would be scared or surprised or what, but I didn’t care; I had to apologize. He had killed Bob, and it felt weird to visit Johnny, but if truth be told, I didn’t feel even a small measure of resentment toward him like Cherry did. After all, it was all my fault.

I was the one that had gotten Bob into drinking in the first place; if it had been any other person to ask Bob if he wanted a drink he would have said no, but for me he said yes. From there, he latched onto it, and even had tried to get his parents attention with it – to no avail – all because I had handed him that first beer.

It was like I had triggered a self-destruct mechanism within him, and there was no stopping it. All of a sudden, he wanted to drink every time we hung out; we would barely get out of the school doors and he would ask, “Got any beer at your house? If not, I got some at mine…”

He just wanted to escape his mundane life, escape the pressure of the good grades and winning games and being all that entailed being a soc. Because of his status, he couldn’t even have the girl that he wanted; sure, she was pretty, though quiet and book-ish, and Bob became fascinated with her from the first time he saw her, but she was a poor greaser. In fact, she lived no less than two blocks away from the Shepard house, and because of that, she was off-limits. For all the money and pomp that came with being a Soc, for all the things we could afford and have, it was ironic that the one thing that Bob Sheldon really wanted, he couldn’t get: a greaser girl named Anne Larson.

But football players weren’t supposed to like low-class greaser girls who played the cello and probably wanted to be children’s librarians when they grew up. They were supposed to like the perfect cheerleaders. So instead of chasing Anne, he hooked up with a girl who wanted him more than he wanted her. Cherry Valance was the perfect girlfriend for someone like Bob Sheldon, or at least from the outside it looked like that.

On the inside, however, Bob still pined for a certain raven-haired girl who happened to live on the wrong side of town.

Bob never really troubled anyone else with this, only me and only when he was drunk enough to let his guard down. It was in those vulnerable moments, when he confessed everything from his love for Anne to his fondness for sunsets and even to the fact that he liked Elvis.

I smirked and half-chuckled when I remembered him doing a drunk rendition of “Jailhouse Rock”, swinging and swaying alright, but nothing like Elvis had done. I had thought he had lost his mind, and maybe he had.

Bob was an odd one when he was drunk; he could be happy and laughing one moment and then angry and violent the next. Usually you were one or the other, but Bob was both. It could get scary being around him like that, but as long as you didn’t provoke him, he would be ok. When Cherry started to run off with those greasers, Bob had really snapped out. Sure, he didn’t really want her, didn’t really love her, but she was still his. I should have just dropped him off at home and not agree to drive around with him looking for them, but I didn’t. Yet another bad decision on my part, yet another strike of guilt against me. And now, because of my bad decisions, my best friend was dead, another kid was dying, and the teenagers of Tulsa were about to rip the town apart.

They would rumble tonight, but no matter who won, it wouldn’t matter. Greasers would still be greasers and socs would still be socs, just like I had told Ponyboy only half an hour ago. “You know, sometimes I think it’s the ones in the middle who are the lucky stiffs,” Bob had said to me once. I had never given it much thought; in fact, I hadn’t given it any thought at all until recently. He was right.

“War will make corpses of us all.” I had read that somewhere, though at the time I hadn’t fully understood it.

Now I did.

I sighed with resolution, picking up my bag and slinging it over my shoulder. I had meant what I said to Ponyboy, I was going to get away, if only for a little while. Away from the madness and the fighting that would never solve anything.

Away from the war before I became a corpse, myself.

[greaserfreak]

I'd Tried Drinking Once

One if the first rules Darry had made after our parents were killed was that I couldn't go near Buck's. The second rule was no drinking. He could tolerate me smoking,, but he was not going to let me drink and that was final. I had no problem with those two rules and thought it would be easy to follow them. After all, I didn't like Buck and I had seen what drinking can do to a person at Johnny's house. So I figured Darry's rules would be simple to follow. I was wrong.

It all started on a Friday afternoon after school let out. Johnny and I were walking across the school yard glad that the day was done, but not wanting to go home yet, when Curly Shepard showed up on his bike. He hadn't been in school that day and I was sure that he would get suspended because of it. Curly didn't care though. He thought he had better things to do than go to school.

"Hey Curtis!" Curly yelled.

"What?" I asked as soon as Johnny and I reached him.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"I don't know," I replied. Ever since the accident, life as I knew it had changed. Darry started working at two jobs and Soda worked most nights at the DX station with Steve. I was often alone on Friday nights unless Johnny or Two-Bit came over.

"My brother is having a party," Curly told me. "You should come."

I looked to Johnny for help, but he only shrugged.

"Come on, Curtis," Curly said impatiently. "When was the last time you did anything fun?"

Curly had a point. It had been a long time since I'd gone out on a Friday to do anything. I found it hard to go out and have a good time with my folks being gone. Darry was starting to tell me to get my nose out of the books I was reading and go outside. Even Soda was starting to invite me places, much to Steve's annoyance.

Darry came home that afternoon just long enough to change clothes for his second job and make sure that I had something to eat for supper. Normally, the three of us tried to eat supper together, but on Fridays, it wasn't always possible.

"Darry, is it okay if I do something with Curly tonight?" I asked as I watched him button his shirt.

He looked at me in the bathroom mirror. "What exactly will the two of you be doing?"

"He said Tim's having a party."

"Where?" Darry turned to face me.

"He didn't say," I replied. "Come on, Darry, you've been telling me to go out more."

"What are my rules?"

I sighed. "Don't go near Buck's and no drinking."

"Will you be home by midnight?" Darry was looking at me with his arms crossed over his chest as I nodded. "Alright, I guess you can go, but if you break either of my rules, I'll skin you."

"I won't," I promised, not knowing that in just a few hours, that promise would be broken.

Shortly after seven, I found myself sitting in the back seat of Tim's car, watching the street lights go by as he drove to where the party was. Curly sat next to him in the front seat, talking about the good time we were going to have.

"The two of you better not do anything stupid," Tim said, glancing at Curly.

"Lighten up, Tim," Curly snapped. "This is a party and I plan to have a good time."

"Well, here we are," Tim announced as he parked the car. The three of us got out of the car and I saw where 'here' was. Tim's party was at Buck's. The one place I wasn't supposed to be at.

"I'm not supposed to be here," I said, images of Darry's face if he found out coming to mind.

Curly grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the sounds of Hank Williams. "Oh no you don't. You're here now, so you might as well stay. Darry doesn't have to know."

"Well, maybe for a little while."

"So kid, what do you want to drink?" Tim asked me once we were inside.

"Pepsi," I answered, knowing Darry wouldn't object to me drinking pop.

Tim went to the bar and returned with two bottles of Pepsi. One for me and one for Curly.

"I didn't ask for pop," Curly grumbled.

"Tough," Tim replied. "That's what you're getting."

I opened my Pepsi and looked around at the crown that was there. Half of them were already drunk and I was feeling uncomfortable. The only people I knew there were Tim and Curly, unless you counted Buck.

"I can't drink this," Curly said, setting his pop on a table. "I want the good stuff."

He wandered off and returned a few minutes later with two bottles of beer.

"Curly, Darry would kill me if I drank that stuff," I protested as he handed me one of the bottles. I had already finished my pop.

"Darry isn't going to know if you have just one beer," Curly told me. "Just one, Curtis. You can have Pepsi the rest of the night. Darry will never know."

Curly watched me as I held the bottle under my nose and smelled it. The stuff smelled awful.

"Here, I'll take a drink first,"Curly said and he took a swig of his beer.

Despite the sounds of Darry's voice reminding me not to drink playing in my head, I followed Curly's lead and took a big gulp of the beer in my hand. The stuff tasted as bad as it smelled. My first thought was to put the bottle down. I had tasted it and didn't like it, but I held onto the bottle and finished it.

"Have another one," someone I didn't know said to me after I threw the bottle in the trash. They handed me another beer and I looked across the room to see that Curly was already staggering around.

I walked over to join him. "Are you sure Darry won't find out?"

"Relax," Curly told me. "You'll be home by midnight like promised and unless Darry kisses you good night, he'll never smell the alcohol on your breath."

"After I finish this beer, I'm drinking Pepsi," I said, even though Curly was walking away and didn't hear me.

I never did return to drinking Pepsi. Instead, I had more beer and I was feeling more relaxed as I was drinking them. I don't know how many I had, maybe four, when I ran into the bathroom feeling sick. As I was sitting on the floor in front of the toilet, I heard the door open and felt a strong hand on my back.

"I though I told you and Curly not to do anything stupid," Tim said from behind me. "What am I supposed to tell Darry? I have to have you home in a half hour."

"Just tell him I'm sick," I pleaded.

"Do you honestly think he'll believe that?" Tim asked. "I already have Curly passed out in the back seat of the car. Darry might not know where the party is, but he's not stupid, kid. He's going to know you're drunk. You can barely walk straight."

"How come you're not drunk?" I asked, finally feeling like I could stand up long enough to get to the car.

Tim guided me out the door, making sure I didn't fall. "Kid, I know how to control my drinking. You better hope Darry's either not home or in bed because if he's waiting for you, you're going to hear it."

I sighed as I slumped down in the front seat. My head was throbbing and the thought of facing Darry wasn't helping.

When we got my house, Tim started to help me to the front door, only we didn't make it. I ended up throwing up in the bushes instead and as I did, the front door opened.

"Ponyboy?" The sound of Darry's voice broke through my throbbing head.

"Go easy on the kid, Darry," Tim said. "I have a feeling Curly was behind this and I will be pounding his head in once he wakes up."

"Thanks for bringing him home, Tim," Darry said and I felt him take a hold of my arm. "I'll be having a talk with Ponyboy."

Tim left and Darry pulled me into the house and had me sit on the couch. He was furious. More furious than I had ever seen him and I didn't blame him.

"Did I not tell you that drinking was forbidden?" He asked and I knew he was trying not to yell. We both knew he'd wake up Soda if he did.

I nodded, afraid to speak.

"Who gave you the beer?" Darry demanded.

"Curly and some people I didn't know," I groaned as I put my head in my hands.

"How many did you have?"

I shrugged. "Four?"

Darry sighed and sat down in the arm chair. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

I didn't reply. Despite Curly telling me that Darry would never know, I knew all night that Darry would find out. Like Tim said, Darry wasn't stupid.

"You broke one of my rules, kiddo," Darry said.

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

"Now, I can't trust you," Darry told me. "I thought you were smarter than that. How am I supposed to trust you now? If the fuzz had shown up at that party, you would have been thrown into a boy's home. I don't want that, do you?"

I shook my head wordlessly.

"I'm grounding you for two weeks," Darry said standing up. "But it's going to take longer than that to regain my trust. Now go get some sleep."

"Darry, I really am sorry," I said as I stood up to go to my room.

Darry gave me a sad look. "I know you are, Pony. I just wish that I could trust you and I hope you've learned from this."

I walked to my room and laid down, feeling sick. Sick from being drunk and sick from guilt because I had let Darry down. I had learned something alright. I learned that I should have listened to the warnings in my head all night and that drinking wasn't worth it. I also learned that it's not always a good idea to do what my friends are doing. After all, if I hadn't listened to Curly, I wouldn't have been in this mess.

[murderofcrows]

good job! just one suggestion...you say "pop" a lot, i assume that's what you call it in real life? that's what i call it in real life lol but in the south, it's referred to as "soda" most of the time. just fyi, that's all i would change. good job.

[Two-Bitty]

Here's my fic...
____________________

Life’s Worth Living

My life laid ahead of me, in the bright, the light, within grasp. I wanted to reach out for it, with the people supporting me behind me each step of the way. My father with his grasp on my shoulder, whispering, “We’re so proud.” I could feel I was glowing. My hat sat awkwardly on my head, tilted to the side and the string, which I never found out the name, in my eyes. It was black.

I think Two-Bit bounced a ball off of it at one point.

So, glad I didn’t wait for too long, my name was called. Darrel Shayne Curtis. It sounded good. I stood up and walked proudly towards the stage and walked up the few stairs. Out to the podium, where the principal stood with the rolled paper out towards me, I closed the space between us. I grabbed the paper, turning my head to the audience with a grin.

I think Steve and Soda began to whoop. Dallas might of joined in a some point.

Then there was a flash of a camera, and everything changed.

My outfit was still black, just tighter and complete with slick black shoes, pants, and a slender tie. Only on my face wasn’t a smile, but just the opposite. A low frown. Ponyboy and Sodapop were crying, holding onto each other in grips as if the world would break in half if they did. And I had my fists in my pockets, balled and tight; if I was looking at them, the knuckles would be white. Two-Bit’s grin was also gone, and his eyes were clouded and looked black. Steve, his hair slicked back and looking neat, also was clouded in sorrow. Johnny and Dallas stood close to one another, and for once, Dallas wore a tired, anguished look.

We approached the caskets together, the seven of us, and peered in. Soda only wept harder, making Pony cry. Steve led them into the hallway to calm them down. I patted Two-Bit’s shoulder; I could feel his shoulders quivering, but there were no tears. Dally didn’t change. Johnny also left the room.

It ended quick, and we all headed home. It was late, so Soda dragged Pony to the bed, Steve claimed the couch, and Johnny took the floor. I sat in the kitchen, holding a beer in my grasp and staring at the rim. Dally shared my company. The brown liquid was sitting idly in the bottom of the glass. I swished it in a circular motion, almost hypnotic.

Then it hit me. I’m the adult in the house. The one to protect my brothers. The bottle slid away from me; Dally gave me a confused glance. “What is it?” he asked, sipping his own beer.

“I can’t do this anymore... I can’t drink anymore.”

“I know you’re hurting, but...”

“No. I’m the only one left for my brothers. I can’t be drinking anymore, I can’t be running wild, I... have to set an example.”

Dallas said nothing, but the look in his eyes told me that he understood was I was saying. Sure, he was a hood fresh from New York, but he wasn’t dumb. He took another drink.

“They never taught you this in school, did they?”

“But I wish they did.”
_____

So there I sat, on the couch a few months later with a mountain of bills crowding my lap and parts of the couch. Water bill, gas, electricity, a bill from when my old truck died and had to be taken to the shop. Steve gave me a ‘discount’, so I hoped it went through well with the manager. I couldn’t believe I let them stack up like this.

Right when I tore open the first one, water bill, Soda and Steve tore through the living room, taking flying leaps onto the couch, making the bills fly in different directions. “Darr~~ryy!” Soda cooed. “We need another player.”

I knew they were talking about football, but I wasn’t in the mood.

“I can’t,” I said. “I have to pay bills, and do all this shit...” I trailed off.

Soda pouted. I couldn’t stand it when he pouted; most of the time I gave in. But I needed to pay the bills. “But it’s Johnny, Pony, and Two-Bit against Dallas, me and Stevie.”

“That sounds fair.”

“Pony and Johnnycake counts as one,” Steve put in, picking a bill and tearing the end off of it. “Looks like the boss-man gave you a discount.”

I snatched the letter from Steve. “Thanks for that.”

They got up and strolled out of the house, leaving me in silence once more and letting me continue with my bills...

...for a split second.

Two-Bit slammed the door open. “Darrel Curtis, you get your white little ass out there and play football,” he ordered in a somewhat serious tone. But his grin didn’t help much with the intimidation. So he moved closer and clamped his hands together while lowering to one knee in front of me. “Please, my darling?” he asked in a more tender voice.

I waved a bill in his face, “Bills. Once you get a house, you’ll learn that you can’t play football all day and that sometimes you need to sit back and pay a few of these.”

At this point, he grabbed my hand and laced his with mine. That boy needs help.

“But, baby... they need you out there!”

I took my hand back. Best thing to do at a moment like this was to ignore him; if he didn’t get the attention he wanted, he’d leave.

And he did just that.

“Back to the water bill,” I told myself. So I got down to it. Math was always my better subject, and if the gang would give me time, I could whip through these and get out there.

But then my mind wandered. It wandered back to a few months in the past, when we were playing football on a similar day like today. Our parents were watching from the porch, cheering. So I thought of how their lives were cut down quicker than anyone ever expected. None of the gang could predict it, nor could I.

Then I thought; Why be so hard? Why try to get the important things done while missing out on the rest of life itself. After all, all the responsibilities were thrust upon my shoulders, cutting out my chances of college and my chances of a normal life.

I realized I had put down the mountain of bills and stood up near the door.

Something ran across my mind; Why not put off the bills for a little longer and go have a little fun? It’s just a couple of hours.

And as I tackled Steve out of Two-Bit’s way as he passed the ball to Ponyboy, I realized that school never taught me the real meaning of working hard.

The most they taught me to do was to succeed. They never taught me that you don’t always have to think the proper, academic way with everything, and that it’s okay to goof off, and to goof up, once an a while.

I’m sure glad they didn’t teach me that. That’s something I was glad to learn on my own.

[murderofcrows]

yay for darry-fics!

[greaserfreak]

Murderofcrows- Nice job on your story. I don't think I've read many stories in Randy's POV and this was well done.

Thanks for commenting on my story. I refer to it as "soda" in real life, but when I was looking through the book the other day, I noticed that Ponyboy referred to it as "pop" when he was talking about the day Johnny got jumped.

[murderofcrows]

hmm, i'll have to pay closer attention...i used to live in the southeast [atlanta, to be precise] and it was always "soda" or "coke" [yes, convos would go like this: "what would you like to drink?" "coke" "what kind?" "sprite"]. when i moved up north, everyone was saying "pop" so i assumed it was a northern thing...i guess it bled down into the southwest, though lol

[Tensleep]

Wow! Some really great responses to this one! I don't think there was a single one I wasn't impressed with. They were all very good to read, and that's saying something when you consider I don't read from this fandom anymore.

Murderofcrowes: Interesting idea to use the quote from another place. One comment, as a reader, perhaps a little less background on where you got it - it just unfocuses the reader and forces them to wonder when you're going to get to the story already. Providing a link, like you did, is perfect for the reader to peruse at either another time or for further interest.
The piece itself was a good read. You don't see many Randy fics out there, especially a deep thinking one. I love that he's got a completely different view on things from Ponyboy, but you can see some similar thought processes about all that has gone on. Keep up the great work!

Greaserfreak: Ah, the night Ponyboy swore off alcohol. I like this one because it is something you really can't learn except by experience. I thought Darry's voice in his head was a nice touch and it says a lot for Pony's character. Tim's involvement was well done, as well, adding to the "adult" factor. I love the pop scene. And, of course, the ending was great. I love the way Darry brings up trust. It fits his character perfectly. Great job! I look forward to reading more of your work!

Two-Bitty: I think you have an excellent feel for Darry's character. You brought out his reactions well. The opening was very catching. I thought it was great how you transformed the happy day into the worst one of Darry's life with a simple scene change. It was powerful. And that's what set the tone for the rest of the piece. Then there was Two-Bit, who makes me chuckle. Great mix of that little bit of humor. Fantastic writing and a great read all around. Keep up with the great work!

Keep 'em coming, guys!

[murderofcrows]

edited. thanks for the comments and the compliments, tens.

[Two-Bitty]

Thanks for the review's guys. I wasn't sure if this is rushed or not. I'm glad ya'll liked it.

[cooroo]

I agree with Tens - those were brilliant responses!
Murderofcrows: This was the first ever Randy fic I've read, and I'm glad it was my first! It was very nicely written, and I loved Randy's memories, especially the one about Jailhouse Rock. It's a happy memory, but with a kind of melancholy feeling to it, which I really liked.

Greaserfreak: Very enjoyable! I loved what Darry said about trust - it reminded me of something my dad said to me once. Tim was a nice addition to the story, a good adult figure. My favourite bit was him saying that he was going to ponud Curly's head in - I could just imagine the poor kid waking up with a hangover and Tim yelling at him.

Two-Bitty: You have absolutely no idea how much I enjoyed reading that. The flash of a camera and everything changing just hits you so hard - I could actually see it like a scene in a movie (or maybe I've been watching too much TV lately). I really liked the scene with Dally and Darry having a talk, too. Darry not letting himself drink was a very good little detail.

So, a well done all round!