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Johnny hears the Mustang’s engine revving before he sees it. His blood turns cold because he’s not out that late, and he’s firmly on his side of the tracks- so why are they here?
He keeps his head down and picks up the pace. The lot’s close, and with it, the Curtis house, and safety. All he has to do is make it there.
The engine revs again and it makes him jump. His nerves are already shot. Mom just got through remembering he exists and he wishes she hadn’t. She didn’t say anything new, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
Just as he gets into the lot, he hears car doors slam and he starts running. It hurts though, his leg was banged up a few weeks ago by his dad and it still isn’t working right. He makes it about halfway across the lot when something slams into him from behind and he lands heavy on his stomach with someone heavier on top of him. The wind’s knocked out of him.
He’s hauled to his feet as he gasps for air and sees three Socs already on him, with two more coming. All the socs are familiar from school, but the only name he can remember right now is Bob, who is the one holding onto him. Bob smells like Dad at the moment, and that isn’t good.
“Look what we caught, Tulsa trash. Guess we should be good citizens and clean it up.”
Johnny stays quiet even though the other four move in to surround him. His heart is racing but he tries to keep the appearance of calm. He can’t fight all of them off. He probably couldn’t even fight one of them off. But if he starts panicking it isn’t going to help, never does with Dad at least.
“Got nothing to say for yourself? Guess even you know you’re garbage. But if you’ve got any thoughts at all, now’s the time. If they’re good words, maybe we’ll even let you off.”
The chorus of chuckles from the other Socs tells Johnny all he needs to know about that statement but maybe it’s worth a try anyway. If nothing else, stalling the inevitable gives more of a chance for someone to show up and bail him out.
“Why do we have to fight?”
Bob laughs. “Why wouldn’t we?”
Johnny shrugs. “We’re all stuck here. Can’t we get along?”
The rest of the Socs laugh too.
“We can’t get along cause you’re kind is trash, and that’s all you’ll ever be. Trash doesn’t belong on either side of the tracks, so someone needs to clean it up.”
It stings a bit cause Johnny’s heard it all before, from Socs but also from his parents. It also hurts that apparently, he and his friends don’t even have a place in the socs’ world. Still, Johnny tries one last time as he says, “We’re not the same people but we still look up at the same sky; maybe we aren’t all that different?”
He feels himself being lifted off the group by his coat as Bob’s face is shoved into his. “We aren’t the same. You’re not fit to breathe the same air as us.”
Johnny coughs cause the stench of booze is super strong on Bob’s breath and it makes his eyes water. He’d rather not breathe the same air as him right now.
“What do you get out of this? We still live in the same city and go to the same school. Beating me up isn’t going to change it. And beating me up isn’t going to fix whatever made you go out drinking.”
Bob shakes him hard and snaps. “I got a great life. The only fixing it needs is dealing with you greasers.”
“Why are you drunk on a Wednesday looking to jump someone if your life is perfect? You don’t gotta tell me, but my old man does the same thing, getting drunk to forget about life. Maybe we aren’t friends, but does that mean we have to fight and make everyone more unhappy?”
Bob seems to think, and Johnny feels himself being lowered. He doesn’t think it’s intentional, Bob is clearly not focused but Johnny is happy enough when his toes finally touch the ground.
“Your old man isn’t great to you?” Bob’s voice is almost far away. Johnny thinks it might be, not physically but… emotionally maybe.
“Nah. He’s mean.” Johnny isn’t sure if he should say more or not. Bob doesn’t seem like he’s totally there. Johnny wonders if he’s in a living room or in front of one of those nice houses on the other side of the city getting yelled at by his dad, or something worse. Johnny doesn’t think he’s noticed before, but Bob’s eyes are really sad. Johnny wonders what exactly made them that way, what those interactions are that Bob must be thinking about right now.
At that moment, it dawns on Johnny that even though Bob is the king of the school, things can’t be right at home. Maybe Bob treats school as an escape from home the way Johnny sees the Curtis house as an escape from home. It could be possible, that they both need to escape from something, and need somewhere to escape to. Johnny’s done it by being one of the gang, they’re the only family he’s ever known. It’s possible Bob does that with school or with his friends.
Maybe different sides of the track doesn’t mean as much as he thought, different problems, but problems all the same. His heels finally touch the ground, Bob is looking over the top of his head. The sun’s setting, and Johnny wonders if maybe Bob’s watching that. Maybe in another life they could have been friends. Maybe that could still be an option in this life.
The peace is broken when one of the other Socs interrupts. “Bob, what are you doing? Your life is great. Why are you letting this lowlife greaser try to tell you otherwise? Just cause his life sucks doesn’t mean yours does.”
Johnny had almost forgotten there were other people and suddenly Bob’s grip on the front of his jacket tightens up and he is being dragged forward. He knows the fist is coming even before he feels the pain.
Bob sneers as he says, “You’re right. Life is pretty great besides this dirty greaser.”
Another punch lands in his stomach and he’s doubled over again, trying to breathe. They haul him off the ground and two of them hold him up while Bob fixes his rings and those sad eyes are now filled with rage and hate. They look eerily similar to Dad’s. The other two socs cheer.
When Bob starts punching, he goes right for Johnny’s face and the rings cut him up badly. It hurts worse than most things Dad has ever done, but Johnny wonders what it says that he’s almost more disappointed that it’s all playing out this way.
And then he’s dropped on the ground like a sack of rocks, and lands every bit as hard. It hurts all over, he’s bleeding, tears and blood mix on his face. He hears them leave and thinks he’s alone. He tries to pull himself up but a foot lands on his wrist and applies pressure causing him to cry out in pain.
“Don’t pretend you know me. You’re a dirty greaser, no more than an animal. You don’t understand anything, much less what it’s like on the other side.”
“I could have.”
Johnny doesn’t even know why he says it. It’s smarter to just keep his mouth shut but some part of him wants to see if maybe that connection he felt is still there. The heavier weight on his wrist tells him what he needs to know.
“I don’t know what your dad does to you, but I’m sure you deserve it all.”
And that hurts, almost as much as the kick to his head that sends him into the darkness.