Tough Love, Johnny Cade (Jally)

Twenty-One: Storm

Late January, 1965

Dally and I walked through the snow, it was half-past nine. We were on our way to the Curtis' from Buck's house. We didn't really mind the snow, we were used to walking around all winter when we couldn't catch a ride. It wasn't so bad until the wind picked up. Within a matter of minutes, the peaceful snow had turned into a wild storm. We were halfway between Buck's and the Curtis', which is a long enough walk as it is. There wasn't anyone else we knew living any closer than that, so we decided our next best option was to find somewhere to wait out the snow.

Dally came across a shed behind a quiet house. The door was unlocked, and upon going inside, it was clear why. There wasn't anything of value. Just a wooden chair, and some rusty old yard tools. Cold, I sat down in the chair, pulling my wet feet up into the seat with me. Dally stood by the window, looking out at the snow. We didn't really say much for a while, but eventually I spoke up.

"Dally?"

"Hm?" Dally looked back at me. His hair was shorter then, and he had a fresh bruise on his cheek from a drunk tramp. He stood at the widow of the old shed, the snow pelting the glass and the wind rattling it. He wasn't much more than an outline in the dark, but I could make out his face despite the night. There was an orange glow from the window- a street light. It illuminated his hair, the shadows of snowflakes racing over the warm glow on his white hair.

The metal roof squealed and I jumped in surprise, bringing my hands closer to my ears. Dally stiffened, his eyes on me as he turned slightly more in my direction. He studied me for a long moment, his face stoic. I slowly let my hands fall away, watching him with curious eyes.

"What do you..." I trailed off. "What do you think storms are?" It was mostly just to take my mind off how scared I was.

"What are storms?" Dally said. "Gee, I don't know kid, bad weather? It doesn't usually storm like this."

"I know." I said, realizing my teeth were chattering. "Maybe it's like, a sign."

Dally chuckled, looking out the window. "You're spewing nonsense."

"Well what do you think it is?" I asked, my teeth chattering violently by now.

"You're about to freeze to death." Dally said, taking off his coat. He wrapped it around me. "Here."

He crouched on the floor in front of me. I watched Dally's unchanging expression as he adjusted the collar of the coat. "We really need to get you a coat." He said thoughtfully. He patted the coat, letting his hand fall away. He sighed, and there was a long silence.

"Maybe it's dead people." He said dryly.

"Huh?"

"Storms. Maybe they're dead people. Dead people having a rumble in heaven." He grinned.

I shook my head. "That's so dark." I chuckled. "Can't you come up with anything better?"

Dally smiled before looking away thoughtfully. "Okay, storms are just dead people saying goodbye. How's that?"

I shrugged. "Better."

There was a prolonged silence. Dally moved back to the window.

"Dally?"

Dally looked at me. His eyes glistened in the dark. "What now?"

"Do you think the storm now is Mr. and Mrs. Curtis?"

Dally frowned in suprise, then his face contorted in thought as he looked out the window. "Uh, yeah, maybe it is."

"Do you think that they're sad?" I asked. Dally looked back at me.