Trouble |The Outsiders|

09. Trick Or Treat

The evening of October thirty-first was exactly what anyone would expect, loud. This was the one night a year when all boundaries in the town of Tulsa seemed forgotten and teenagers wreaked havoc. Souped-up mustangs rolled down the street, spewing rocks and pieces of gravel at the greasers that walked by, firing off curses and hand gestures. Other greasers, mostly the boys belonging to gangs, slung around the alleys as the moon rose, cigarette smoke mixing with the scent of blood, sweat, and grease.

The Masons, on the other hand, sat together on their living room couch picking away at the buttery popcorn that sat on the table in front of them. Abigail's feet ached as she slid them out of her converse and rubbed her heels, it wasn't a very good day at the Dingo. She'd spent her breaks scrubbing the floor of the spilt milkshakes and slapping away curious hands when they got too close to her skirt. "C'mon Abigail," Bob Sheldon goaded, "It's Halloween, consider this my treat to you."

But the day was over. The only thing she had to worry about was not burning her popcorn as she settled down for the movie marathon playing on channel two for the next twelve hours. Danny took a quick sip of his coke while his eyes were glued to the small silver screen. It was a decent movie, three witches kidnap children to obtain eternal youth, and a boy's adventure to save his sister from their evil clutches.

"If you got kidnapped by three witches, I'd come save you," Danny told his sister while brushing his fingers through his hair. "Y'know, as long as they don't turn into snakes or some creepy shit like that." She snorted and rolled her eyes, popping a piece of popcorn in her mouth. "N' if they did turn into snakes?"

"You're on your fuckin' own. I don't care how much I love you, you ain't worth some scaly little freaks crawling all over me."

Someone banged on the front door, but Abigail didn't care. She was too busy washing down her dinner with a coke of her own and scolding her brother. "After everything I've done for you, you ungrateful little shit-"

"Stop your yackin'," Danny barked, "I'm tryna see if I gotta scare off some little kids."

Abigail rolled her eyes and twisted a lock of hair between her fingers while Danny peeked through the window. Suddenly, the door creaked open and a gust of cold wind slapped her back. "Jesus Christ, you deaf or something? I was waiting out there for like, five minutes!"

Curly Shepard stood in the doorway, his scarred fists jammed in the pockets of his leather jacket. He slouched against the wooden frame, his collar reaching his ears as he tried to keep from shivering. His dark eyes were similar to his eldest brother's, but they held more of a childish amusement than anger or spite.

"Close the door, will you? Heating this place ain't cheap," Abigail called as she turned in her seat. Because he slouched so often, Curly appeared shorter than he actually was. If he stood straight with his shoulders back, Abigail assumed they'd be the same height. But for the time being, his wild dark curls barely reached her eyebrows. "What brings you 'round here, Curly?"

He and Danny shared a knowing look. It was the kind of look that caused a knot of anxiety to twist in Abigail's stomach, yet nothing she could question them about. "Tim kicked me outta the house for "business purposes," an' I don't wanna hang out inside all night on Halloween."

"You're here to kidnap my brother?"

Curly rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, wrapping a lock of hair around his forefinger as he did so. "Yeah, I guess I am. I'll bring him back in one piece, though!"

Abigail chuckled and passed the boy the bowl of popcorn while Danny jumped up from the couch and ran to find his own jacket. Curly leaned over the back of the couch, filling his mouth with the buttery treat as the two almost strangers stared at the television in silence. "Abigail!" Danny screamed from his bedroom. She rolled her eyes. "What?"