A Girl in New York (Pre/Sequel to The Outsiders: A Girl in the Gang)

Chapter 11- Spend the Rest of My Life as a Hobo

        I woke up a little before noon, judging by the almost full-force glare of the sun as it reflected off of an old water tower that we had just passed. The train car door was still open, seeing as how there was nearly nothing in this car, except for, you know, a runaway teenager.

        My stomach was growling, but I still had about an hour to ride before the train stopped at Muskogee and then switched directions to go back to Oklahoma City.  And yes, I am aware of all the schedules of trains that run through Tulsa.

        I spent my time staring out at the moving landscape, the rolling green hills, the abandoned structures seemingly in the middle of nowhere, and the small towns with dark buildings protruding into the contrasting bright blue sky.  It was pretty enough, but got boring after about fifteen minutes.

        I figured I wouldn’t mind living like this, I wasn’t really on the run for any serious crime right now, and I could just spend the rest of my life as a hobo or something.  But then I remembered the gang, and what they would all be doing right now.

        If I hadn’t come to live with Dally about two months ago, after our mother got shot and our father decided it’d be fun to hit me all the time instead of her, seeing as how a corpse can’t really do anything, none of the gang would know I existed.  I wouldn’t be Pony’s girlfriend, I wouldn’t have to listen to Two-Bit’s lame jokes and be forced to watch Mickey Mouse all the time, I wouldn’t have to deal with Steve’s smart-ass remarks, or listen to him and Soda arguing over poker constantly, or hear Darry yell at everyone every second.  But if I hadn’t showed up, Johnny might be much worse off than just a broken arm right now.

        I wasn’t sure if I liked the thought of not having all of that or not, but instead my thoughts wandered to what Dally would be doing right now. 

        I had disappeared yesterday morning, before he even got up.  He wouldn’t miss me, or more so notice I was gone, until probably yesterday evening, when he came to get me from the Curtis’s and found out that Pony, Johnny, or Two-Bit hadn’t seen me at school all day.  Then he might start to get worried, but he’d spend all of today searching every nook and cranny of Tulsa to try and find me.  They were probably all looking for me now.  Fist they’d check the lot, and probably the movie theater, and the Dingo and Jay’s and all the other restaurants and places that greasers hung out at.  It would probably be Ponyboy’s idea to check the lot, because just the two of us had gone there a couple of times, but not a single one of those places would turn up a single clue of where I had gone, or where I was going.

        No one had seen me leave, I made sure of that, and no one knew where I was going.  The gang’s first guess would probably be New York, but Dally would figure out I wasn’t going there, and then they’d probably start asking around and maybe head to Windrixville

        I don’t even know why I was thinking about this, I knew they wouldn’t find me.  No one could ever find me if I didn’t want to be found. 

        Still watching the moving scenery, the landscape looking like strange solid waves as we zipped past, I glanced a sign that said Muskogee 5 Miles, and figured I’d better get ready to get out of here the minute the train stopped.  I wasn’t stupid enough to try jumping off a moving train, especially one as fast as this one was going, and I’d have to move quickly to not get caught by the railroad workers.

        I heard the squealing, scraping brakes and saw a few sparks fly out from under the wheels and then the train sighed as it began to gradually slow, letting out a loud hiss of steam. 

        I stood up, feeling my pockets to make sure I had everything, and then stood by the open doorway of the train car, gripping the weathered wood and rusted metal as it jolted to a stop.  I stuck my head out to check for workers and then jumped off, landing on the gravel under the tracks with a crunch before I sent stones pinging off the rails as they skittered out from under my worn-out Converses as I dashed into the weeds along the side of the railroad tracks.

        I took off, deciding to head around back of the station and then go into Muskogee.  I didn’t know the train schedules here, so I wasn’t going to be hitching anymore rides seeing as how I didn’t want to risk getting on one and then not knowing where I’d get off.  I was hitchhiking or walking the rest of the way to my destination, but for now, I needed food to quiet my grumbling belly.