Categories > Books > Outsiders
Looking for Trouble
2 ReviewsTwo-Bit's younger sister runs into some of Tim Shepard's gang members one night at Buck Merill's place.
Disclaimer: I don't own "The Outsiders" or "Trouble" by Elvis Presley.
" ... if you're looking for trouble you came to the right place ... "/
"I don't think this is such a great idea, Gracie," Lori said, chewing her bottom lip.
Grace would have scowled, but she was busy applying lipstick.
"It's a really bad idea," Lori said, worrying a nail.
"You don't gotta go," said Grace, "so quit hounding me." She cussed as she tried to glue false eyelashes on; they never wanted to go on straight for her.
"Is Sophie going?" Lori asked.
"Yep, I'm meeting her there," Grace said, standing up and smoothing down her dress. It was a blue-and-white polka dot jersey dress and had cost her almost ten dollars and several weeks wait after ordering it from the Montgomery Ward catalog."You can still go if you want. We'll tell your mother that you're stayin' over at my house."
Lori slowly shook her head.
"What if she calls over to your house and finds out that you told your mom that you're staying here?"
"She won't," Grace said.
"What makes you so sure?" Lori said, running a blue chiffon scarf through her fingers.
"Because," Grace said, taking the scarf and tying her hair up in a ponytail, "the telephone company's turned off the phone again."
Lori collasped back on her bed.
"What if you run into your brother while you're there?" she asked, tossing a stuffed bear up into the air and catching it.
"What if I do?" Grace countered, throwing a brush in her purse. "Two-Bit won't rat me, if he knows what's good for him."
"Yeah, but he'll probably make you go home. Remember that time when y'all ran into Sophie's sister?"
Grace rolled her eyes and grabbed her jacket.
"Look, can you stop nagging me, Lori? It'll be fine. What could possibly happen?"
Lori gave her a worried look.
"I don't know; that's what bothers me," she said.
XXXXX
Buck's place was rocking and rolling. Buck himself was sitting on a fat pile of cash after another successful rodeo, or so everyone said. Sophie had swiped one of Marilyn's favorite shirtwaists in a pink that would have clashed with Grace's red hair if she tried to wear it. She wished she were blonde, like Sophie and Marilyn. Or Lori and Kathy. Or, heck, even Sylvia and Carolyn. Sometimes she felt like the whole damn world was blonde.
Buck had a few halfway decent records on the jukebox and the whole place was about bursting to the seams and shaking like an empty freight train. Sophie was looking over her shoulder to see if Marilyn was around; probably worried she was going to be pissed about the dress.
"Try to look cool, okay?" she hissed under her breath. It was probably a waste of time; you couldn't hear anything below a dull roar in this madhouse.
"Hard to do that if you're expectin' to get your head ripped off anytime," Sophie said, ducking as some old drunk cowboy swung a ten gallon hat over his head, nearly thwacking her.
"Why'd you wear the damn thing, then?" Grace asked as Eddie Demarco squeezed past and dropped them a wink. Grace stuck her tongue out and he barked laughter before disappearing into the crowd. Eddie wasn't looking too bad, now that his jaw wasn't wired shut anymore. Tim Shepard had broken it a month or so ago, or so Two-Bit said. What had surprised Grace was that Two-Bit hadn't cracked a single joke over it, but had only rubbed his own jaw thoughtfully as he related the whole mess to her over a dinner of reheated meatloaf from the diner their mom worked at.
"I look good in pink," Sophie said, shrugging, before darting another glance over her shoulder.
"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Grace said. "Jimmy come over today to see Two-Bit an' he said Carl Hamilton took Marilyn over to the hospital to see Bill." Grace pulled a face. "I heard he got himself shot in the leg by the River Kings. Too bad they missed his heart, but Bill probably don't got one. Jimmy was real upset over it; why's he so gone on your sister, anyway?"
"Beats me," Sophie said. "Jimmy's cute, though."
"I definately wouldn't throw Jimmy over for Bill," Grace sniffed. Personally, she thought Jimmy was really cute; those green eyes of his were just the living end.
"You don't like Bill," Sophie pointed out, stepping to the side so Danny Smith and his girl Myra Brettell could get through. Danny had a big pink scar running from his right eye to his chin. Grace wondered what the hell had happened to him.
"'Cause he's a jerk," Grace snorted.
She tried to sashay across the dance floor, the way she'd seen Kathy do it, but there were too many dancers and she had to wiggle and squirm past them. Not exactly alluring, but it wasn't as if anyone was really looking at her. Most of the other girls had very lowcut blouses and all of a sudden, the dress she'd been so proud of didn't seem so great anymore.
Frowning, she plunked down at the bar and looked up at Jed, who was passing out beers as fast as people could pay for them.
"Gimme a beer, Jed." She put just a little bit of a bored sneer into it, just as she'd seen Dallas do.
Jed only laughed, clenching an omnipresent toothpick between his teeth. Two-Bit and Steve had a bet on whether he'd ever suck it down his throat and choke on it.
"C'mon, Jed!" she whined.
"I don't think so, Grace. Buck'd skin me alive if he thought I was handing out beers to little kids an' your brother would kick my ass from here to Topeka," he said, rolling the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other while he spoke.
"I ain't a little kid," she muttered as Sophie slumped onto the stool beside her.
Jed just chuckled and moved down the bar to serve another hood hollering for a beer.
"What are we gonna do?" Sophie asked. "I don't wanna hang out here if we ain't gonna be able to drink. Everybody'll think we're a couple of squares."
"No, they ain't," Grace said, sitting up straight and looking around determinedly. She spotted what she was looking for after a couple scans of the room. "Right over there," she said, nudging Sophie.
"What?" she asked, looking in the same direction Grace was.
"Don't look!" Grace huffed with irritation.
"What are we not looking at?" Sophie said, smothering a coughing fit. The room was really smoky; a blue haze of cigarette smoke was making Grace's eyes water a little. She hoped it didn't ruin her eye makeup. She'd had the damnest time with the false eyelashes.
"A couple of the guys in Tim Shepard's gang," she said, leaning into Sophie so the whole damn bar didn't hear.
"Why are we not looking at a couple of the Shepard gang?" Sophie demanded, twirling a piece of hair around a finger.
"'Cause their gonna buy us our drinks," said Grace trimuphantly.
"Why would they do that?" Sophie asked dubiously.
"We're gonna use our feminine wiles on 'em."
"We've got that?"
"Yes," Grace said, grabbing her hand and dragging her toward the two boys across the room. "C'mon, Sophie. Y'want to sit in the corner all night?"
XXXXX
"Welll, I dunno," Pete Malcom said morosely, pushing back his blonde hair. "Tim said he'd break my legs if I didn't quit it. I think he's serious. Besides, he's still sore at me 'cause of that beef with the Tigers."
"Wouldn't be no beef with 'em if Tim had stood up to those boys the way he should," Raymond Roth replied, tipping his chair back. "It ain't your fault he don't stand up for any of us. Look what he let Brumly do to my face," he continued, pointing to a technicolored black eye. "Shit, you should see my ribs. Ain't my fault that Smith can't keep his old lady in line an' she was hangin' all over me. I wouldn't let a girlfriend of mine get away with that shit."
"I don't gotta worry about that no more, thanks to Tim," Pete said.
"Tim's too worried 'bout keeping the peace with other gangs an' not worried enough about keeping the peace with the boys," Ray said, taking a reflective sip of his beer.
"An' you would do somethin' different?"
"I wouldn't worry so much 'bout kissing ass," Ray sneered. "Them other boys should fuckin' stay in line or else get their heads kicked in. Maybe if Tim'd let us bang some heads together, those other gangs wouldn't be getting up in our faces."
"If you wanna go against Tim, that's all you," Pete said nervously, figeting with the chain that ran from the breast pocket of his leather jacket to his belt.
"Can I count on you if it comes to that?" Ray leaned in, his expression intent.
"You mean, can you count on my dad's arsenal?" Pete said, still fiddling with the chain.
Ray made an impatient chopping gesture with one hand. "Don't fuckin' fool yourself about why Tim keeps you around, Pete. Ain't asking you for nothin' but what you already been giving."
Pete sat back in his chair, his green eyes troubled.
XXXXX
"Oh, sweet fancy Moses," Sophie whispered. "That one's got a black eye."
"It ain't like you're gonna marry him," Grace whispered back. "You're just going to let him buy you a drink."
"I can buy my own drinks," Sophie said, stopping about fifteen feet away from the dark boy and his blonde friend.
"No you can't, 'cause Jed won't give us none," Grace said. "C'mon. If we ain't gonna do this, we should just go home an' I didn't get all dressed up for nothing."
"I don't know, Grace," Sophie said worriedly. "They look like a little more than we can handle. A lot more."
"Fine," Grace said. "Be a wallflower."
"You're being a bitch." Sophie tucked a blonde curl behind her right ear and gave a nervous look at the blonde boy.
The dark boy was gesturing angrily. He had the most beautiful skin Grace'd ever seen -- where it wasn't all bruised up, anyway. He had really nice eyes, too.
"Pick which ever one you want. I don't care," said Grace, hoping Sophie wouldn't pick the dark boy.
"The blonde," Sophie squeaked, tugging on a lock of hair.
"Let's go," said Grace.
"Oh God," Sophie moaned as Grace dragged her to the table.
The two boys looked up, the blonde one looking relieved and the dark one annoyed, as Grace pulled a chair over and sat down. Sophie reluctantly followed her lead.
"Hi," Grace said, smilingly brightly.
"Who the fuck are you?" The dark one asked, lighting a cigarette.
"Grace Mathews," she said. "This is Sophie Harrison. What are your names?"
The blonde looked incredulously at them before turning to the dark one.
"I'm Ray. Ray Roth," he said, taking a long drag on his cigarette and giving her a crooked smile. "This is Pete Malcom," he added, gesturing to the blonde. "You're Two-Bit's little sister."
Grace rolled her eyes.
"Maybe." She hated that everyone referred to her as "Two-Bit's sister."
"Ain't no maybes about it," he said, sitting back and eyeing her with a good deal of interest. "You got a pretty smile, baby."
"Thanks," Grace said, scooting closer to the table.
"You want something to drink?" he asked.
"I'm dying of thirst."
" ... if you're looking for trouble you came to the right place ... "/
"I don't think this is such a great idea, Gracie," Lori said, chewing her bottom lip.
Grace would have scowled, but she was busy applying lipstick.
"It's a really bad idea," Lori said, worrying a nail.
"You don't gotta go," said Grace, "so quit hounding me." She cussed as she tried to glue false eyelashes on; they never wanted to go on straight for her.
"Is Sophie going?" Lori asked.
"Yep, I'm meeting her there," Grace said, standing up and smoothing down her dress. It was a blue-and-white polka dot jersey dress and had cost her almost ten dollars and several weeks wait after ordering it from the Montgomery Ward catalog."You can still go if you want. We'll tell your mother that you're stayin' over at my house."
Lori slowly shook her head.
"What if she calls over to your house and finds out that you told your mom that you're staying here?"
"She won't," Grace said.
"What makes you so sure?" Lori said, running a blue chiffon scarf through her fingers.
"Because," Grace said, taking the scarf and tying her hair up in a ponytail, "the telephone company's turned off the phone again."
Lori collasped back on her bed.
"What if you run into your brother while you're there?" she asked, tossing a stuffed bear up into the air and catching it.
"What if I do?" Grace countered, throwing a brush in her purse. "Two-Bit won't rat me, if he knows what's good for him."
"Yeah, but he'll probably make you go home. Remember that time when y'all ran into Sophie's sister?"
Grace rolled her eyes and grabbed her jacket.
"Look, can you stop nagging me, Lori? It'll be fine. What could possibly happen?"
Lori gave her a worried look.
"I don't know; that's what bothers me," she said.
XXXXX
Buck's place was rocking and rolling. Buck himself was sitting on a fat pile of cash after another successful rodeo, or so everyone said. Sophie had swiped one of Marilyn's favorite shirtwaists in a pink that would have clashed with Grace's red hair if she tried to wear it. She wished she were blonde, like Sophie and Marilyn. Or Lori and Kathy. Or, heck, even Sylvia and Carolyn. Sometimes she felt like the whole damn world was blonde.
Buck had a few halfway decent records on the jukebox and the whole place was about bursting to the seams and shaking like an empty freight train. Sophie was looking over her shoulder to see if Marilyn was around; probably worried she was going to be pissed about the dress.
"Try to look cool, okay?" she hissed under her breath. It was probably a waste of time; you couldn't hear anything below a dull roar in this madhouse.
"Hard to do that if you're expectin' to get your head ripped off anytime," Sophie said, ducking as some old drunk cowboy swung a ten gallon hat over his head, nearly thwacking her.
"Why'd you wear the damn thing, then?" Grace asked as Eddie Demarco squeezed past and dropped them a wink. Grace stuck her tongue out and he barked laughter before disappearing into the crowd. Eddie wasn't looking too bad, now that his jaw wasn't wired shut anymore. Tim Shepard had broken it a month or so ago, or so Two-Bit said. What had surprised Grace was that Two-Bit hadn't cracked a single joke over it, but had only rubbed his own jaw thoughtfully as he related the whole mess to her over a dinner of reheated meatloaf from the diner their mom worked at.
"I look good in pink," Sophie said, shrugging, before darting another glance over her shoulder.
"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Grace said. "Jimmy come over today to see Two-Bit an' he said Carl Hamilton took Marilyn over to the hospital to see Bill." Grace pulled a face. "I heard he got himself shot in the leg by the River Kings. Too bad they missed his heart, but Bill probably don't got one. Jimmy was real upset over it; why's he so gone on your sister, anyway?"
"Beats me," Sophie said. "Jimmy's cute, though."
"I definately wouldn't throw Jimmy over for Bill," Grace sniffed. Personally, she thought Jimmy was really cute; those green eyes of his were just the living end.
"You don't like Bill," Sophie pointed out, stepping to the side so Danny Smith and his girl Myra Brettell could get through. Danny had a big pink scar running from his right eye to his chin. Grace wondered what the hell had happened to him.
"'Cause he's a jerk," Grace snorted.
She tried to sashay across the dance floor, the way she'd seen Kathy do it, but there were too many dancers and she had to wiggle and squirm past them. Not exactly alluring, but it wasn't as if anyone was really looking at her. Most of the other girls had very lowcut blouses and all of a sudden, the dress she'd been so proud of didn't seem so great anymore.
Frowning, she plunked down at the bar and looked up at Jed, who was passing out beers as fast as people could pay for them.
"Gimme a beer, Jed." She put just a little bit of a bored sneer into it, just as she'd seen Dallas do.
Jed only laughed, clenching an omnipresent toothpick between his teeth. Two-Bit and Steve had a bet on whether he'd ever suck it down his throat and choke on it.
"C'mon, Jed!" she whined.
"I don't think so, Grace. Buck'd skin me alive if he thought I was handing out beers to little kids an' your brother would kick my ass from here to Topeka," he said, rolling the toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other while he spoke.
"I ain't a little kid," she muttered as Sophie slumped onto the stool beside her.
Jed just chuckled and moved down the bar to serve another hood hollering for a beer.
"What are we gonna do?" Sophie asked. "I don't wanna hang out here if we ain't gonna be able to drink. Everybody'll think we're a couple of squares."
"No, they ain't," Grace said, sitting up straight and looking around determinedly. She spotted what she was looking for after a couple scans of the room. "Right over there," she said, nudging Sophie.
"What?" she asked, looking in the same direction Grace was.
"Don't look!" Grace huffed with irritation.
"What are we not looking at?" Sophie said, smothering a coughing fit. The room was really smoky; a blue haze of cigarette smoke was making Grace's eyes water a little. She hoped it didn't ruin her eye makeup. She'd had the damnest time with the false eyelashes.
"A couple of the guys in Tim Shepard's gang," she said, leaning into Sophie so the whole damn bar didn't hear.
"Why are we not looking at a couple of the Shepard gang?" Sophie demanded, twirling a piece of hair around a finger.
"'Cause their gonna buy us our drinks," said Grace trimuphantly.
"Why would they do that?" Sophie asked dubiously.
"We're gonna use our feminine wiles on 'em."
"We've got that?"
"Yes," Grace said, grabbing her hand and dragging her toward the two boys across the room. "C'mon, Sophie. Y'want to sit in the corner all night?"
XXXXX
"Welll, I dunno," Pete Malcom said morosely, pushing back his blonde hair. "Tim said he'd break my legs if I didn't quit it. I think he's serious. Besides, he's still sore at me 'cause of that beef with the Tigers."
"Wouldn't be no beef with 'em if Tim had stood up to those boys the way he should," Raymond Roth replied, tipping his chair back. "It ain't your fault he don't stand up for any of us. Look what he let Brumly do to my face," he continued, pointing to a technicolored black eye. "Shit, you should see my ribs. Ain't my fault that Smith can't keep his old lady in line an' she was hangin' all over me. I wouldn't let a girlfriend of mine get away with that shit."
"I don't gotta worry about that no more, thanks to Tim," Pete said.
"Tim's too worried 'bout keeping the peace with other gangs an' not worried enough about keeping the peace with the boys," Ray said, taking a reflective sip of his beer.
"An' you would do somethin' different?"
"I wouldn't worry so much 'bout kissing ass," Ray sneered. "Them other boys should fuckin' stay in line or else get their heads kicked in. Maybe if Tim'd let us bang some heads together, those other gangs wouldn't be getting up in our faces."
"If you wanna go against Tim, that's all you," Pete said nervously, figeting with the chain that ran from the breast pocket of his leather jacket to his belt.
"Can I count on you if it comes to that?" Ray leaned in, his expression intent.
"You mean, can you count on my dad's arsenal?" Pete said, still fiddling with the chain.
Ray made an impatient chopping gesture with one hand. "Don't fuckin' fool yourself about why Tim keeps you around, Pete. Ain't asking you for nothin' but what you already been giving."
Pete sat back in his chair, his green eyes troubled.
XXXXX
"Oh, sweet fancy Moses," Sophie whispered. "That one's got a black eye."
"It ain't like you're gonna marry him," Grace whispered back. "You're just going to let him buy you a drink."
"I can buy my own drinks," Sophie said, stopping about fifteen feet away from the dark boy and his blonde friend.
"No you can't, 'cause Jed won't give us none," Grace said. "C'mon. If we ain't gonna do this, we should just go home an' I didn't get all dressed up for nothing."
"I don't know, Grace," Sophie said worriedly. "They look like a little more than we can handle. A lot more."
"Fine," Grace said. "Be a wallflower."
"You're being a bitch." Sophie tucked a blonde curl behind her right ear and gave a nervous look at the blonde boy.
The dark boy was gesturing angrily. He had the most beautiful skin Grace'd ever seen -- where it wasn't all bruised up, anyway. He had really nice eyes, too.
"Pick which ever one you want. I don't care," said Grace, hoping Sophie wouldn't pick the dark boy.
"The blonde," Sophie squeaked, tugging on a lock of hair.
"Let's go," said Grace.
"Oh God," Sophie moaned as Grace dragged her to the table.
The two boys looked up, the blonde one looking relieved and the dark one annoyed, as Grace pulled a chair over and sat down. Sophie reluctantly followed her lead.
"Hi," Grace said, smilingly brightly.
"Who the fuck are you?" The dark one asked, lighting a cigarette.
"Grace Mathews," she said. "This is Sophie Harrison. What are your names?"
The blonde looked incredulously at them before turning to the dark one.
"I'm Ray. Ray Roth," he said, taking a long drag on his cigarette and giving her a crooked smile. "This is Pete Malcom," he added, gesturing to the blonde. "You're Two-Bit's little sister."
Grace rolled her eyes.
"Maybe." She hated that everyone referred to her as "Two-Bit's sister."
"Ain't no maybes about it," he said, sitting back and eyeing her with a good deal of interest. "You got a pretty smile, baby."
"Thanks," Grace said, scooting closer to the table.
"You want something to drink?" he asked.
"I'm dying of thirst."
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