Teasing Fate |The Outsiders|

33. It Ends Tonight

"LORD HAVE MERCY ON MY SOUL." The SteelDrivers (If It Hadn't Been For Love)

***

Dread curls down my spine like the serpent that fooled Adam and Eve. The freezing wind biting at my neck doesn't help either, fear and Dad's words all jumbled together in my mind while the wind hows worse than the dogs down by Brumley. Things had taken a turn for the worse -- or at least that's what I'd thought for the past few days. Now, I was in such deep shit, I should be able to shake my granddad's hand. Yeah, I mean the one six feet under.

Things have gone to shit, and there really isn't anyone willing to help me set it straight. What happened with Syl and Dally was just a one-time thing, especially after some pigs drove by and almost grabbed us. I'm pacing the street, trying to clear my mind, and all I can come up with is some dead guy's last words. It's Saturday night and Tulsa is roaring almost as loud as Dad's engine when he pulls to a screeching halt on the corner. The car's nothing special, just a black thunderbird he's won in a game of poker or something. I really don't care anymore. Not about my father, or anything that goes with him. It would be so easy to just walk away from him, to maybe even just decide none of this is worth it and head back to the house. I hate him. I really, really, hate him. And yet, when he rolls down his window and ushers me to him, I follow. Like a lamb drawn to a shepherd. A motherfucking Shepard. "Where's the fire, huh? The bar's back thatta way," he scoffs. It takes all I have in me to not roll my eyes and stay quiet. He really isn't much like an actual shepherd, a wolf in the pen is more like it. With that damned grin and cool eyes, he's waiting for me to break the silence and give him enough ammunition to end this once and for all.

I'm not a son to him -- I never have been. All we've ever been was his backup plan. No matter how horrific his fuck-ups, he thought he could always come back to us. To his family. I wasn't a son to him, I was the playing piece he used to fuck with some poor kids' heads. And, as of late, I'd become the only thing standing against him. "To Pat's," I mutter after letting the question fester. The soles of my shoes grind against the pavement, broken glass, and rock. At the same time, Dad grinds his teeth. It's slow and barely noticeable, but it's there. He's losing me, little by little, and there ain't gonna be shit he can do about it. "We'll meet you at the bar, alright? They're gonna be there all night anyway." The words taste like vinegar -- sharp and acidic -- but it's better than the metallic flavour of blood I can't seem to escape. One large hand curls around his chin as he looks at me again, almost thoughtfully.

"You're lookin' a lot like your old man, Tim," he spits, without even an attempt to be genuine. "So you better not fuck this up. You be at Buck's within an hour, or maybe I'm gonna have to straighten you out, too." The window cranks up before I can scowl at him. Then, with an obnoxious screech, he's gone again. I wished he'd never come back, but I wasn't deserving of any miracles, as of late. I know where he's going; I know what he's gonna do. He leaves nothing but dust and doubt in his wake as the headlights vanish around the corner, headed straight for the north side of town and the two people waiting for him there.

Pat isn't waiting for me. Pat can barely stand the sight of me after what I'd done, and I couldn't blame him. I know I'm not a likeable person. I know I'm a greaser, and a hood, a stupid teenage boy, and the eldest son of Frank Shepard. Pat doesn't have to forgive me, he doesn't have to think about me after tonight. But tonight, he just has to worry about one person.

***

If it weren't for the baby in his arms, I know Pat would've tried to make a more permanent reminder, since the last bruise had already begun to fade. His hair's a mess, sticking up every which way as Katie squirms in his grasp -- for a minute, she begins to reach for me instead. "I told you," he says, yanking her back from me as if I was the bad guy here. In context, I was worse than him, but what the hell would I do with his kid? "I don't care anymore, Shepard. You're on your own."