The Outsiders: Before My Time Part III

School Project

Goldie's POV
April 5, 1965

On Saturday morning, I got up early and drove us over to a truck stop so I could freshen up before my first day at the DX. I needed to buy some deodorant, some soaps and shampoo, and I was finally able to treat myself with a shower. Just letting the hot water run down my back and soak into my hair helped ground myself into this new and twisted reality we are living in.

Just as I had promised, I met Steve at the DX and he showed me the ropes. Dad had the day off, so he was not there. I had the chance to talk with Steve because the DX really was not that busy. To my surprise, the guy was actually cool and possessed a sharp sense of humor that made me genuinely laugh. I was not expecting that, considering we are from two completely different worlds. I expected a massive generational gap, but our banter flowed naturally. I kept my mouth shut about Mom and Dad, though. It didn't come up organically since I technically don't know them yet.

I went in on Sunday too, mostly to pass the time and keep my mind from spiraling. Steve explained to me that he still has to talk with the manager in order to actually hire me. This weekend was an under-the-table deal. At the end of my shift, he just gave me my earnings from the register. I'm not sure what Candy and Red did all weekend. My only rule was that they did not wander too far and they did not get themselves into any sort of trouble.

When I actually counted the cash and realized I was pulling in a staggering buck-fifty an hour, I was deeply horrified. I stared at the paper bills like they were monopoly money. Back in 2038, you can't even get a bottle of soda for that much. I understand inflation and how minimum wage shifts over seventy years, but experiencing it firsthand was an absolute slap in the face. What was I supposed to do with this, buy a single slice of bread?

I never told Steve about how the three of us were living in a car. Honestly, for a short term situation, it was not that bad. Before my shifts, I'd smuggle day-old donuts from the DX back to the car for the kids. For lunch, they'd grab burgers from a nearby joint and hangout with the other neighborhood kids until I was off work. Neither of them can drive, so they stayed close by. I was worried that they were going to run off and get lost, or worse. Although this is our hometown, we are strangers here. We are aliens.

Monday came along quickly and Candy convinced me to go back to Will Rogers. She argued that befriending our parents was our best shot at finding a way home. I knew she was right, but it didn't stop the cold sweat from breaking out on the back of my neck. Walking into a 1960s high school with no records and a fake identity felt like walking into a trap.

Red is too young for high school, so I'm not sure what we should do with him. I do not see a reason to drop him off at grade school if it will not help us get home. I guess we could sit him in a nearby diner until we are done with class... or keep him in the car with the windows rolled down low or put the top down.

Over the weekend, we stopped at the clothing shop to grab a few more pieces so we could mix and match. I'd noticed a lot of the local guys wore denim pants with the bottoms rolled up into thick cuffs, so I'd picked up a couple of pairs for myself and Red. If I was going to be stuck in 1965, I was at least going to look sharp doing it.

I talked to Candy and we took a slightly different approach today. She was going to try to find Dad, since we haven't seen him at the school yet. My focus was on Mom since I found a class with her.

We ended up sitting Red down in a nearby diner and asked the waitress to keep an eye on him. We told her to let him order whatever he wanted, and we promised to pay for it when we got back. I told her that if he gets bored, have him wash the dishes.

I sat in the only class I could sneak into, and the students filled up quickly. Ms. Valentine came in to greet us and she told us about a paper that she stated was due at the end of the week. She told us the details of what she was expecting from us, and my stomach did a nervous flip. I tried to shrug it off, telling myself a bad grade in 1965 couldn't hurt my 2038 academic record... assuming I actually made it back to 2038.