It was bright and early, when we were up. Well it was as bright as it could be in October. The sky was grayish. It would probably rain later. It was also early for me. As the one who appreciates his sleep, 10 o'clock is not a decent hour.

The air was cold, and a steady wind blew in making it even colder. Shoot, when did I get to be such a wus? Suck it up man, it would only get colder. Oklahoma with its long flat plains often fell prey to blizzards and below zero temperatures. Sometimes I really hated this place.

I looked over at Pony and laughed. As miserable as I was, he was worse. Dally razzed him all the time about wearing jackets and crap, but the kid's head was so stuffed with books he can't remember a thing like that. He looked hilarious, with his arms stuffed into his sleeveless t-shirt, and his quivering mouth balanced a cigarette. Darry had just let him smoke this past month.

Speaking of Darry, it had been his idea to wait in this god-forsaken lot for Dally to get out. Kimie had mentioned last night how much Johnny was achin' to see Dally, and Darry took the hint. The ol' Ford was parked in the lot across from the jail. Steve had come too, and his piece of junk sat next to Darry's.

With his car top up, and his head cocked in the engine, Steve was dead to the world. Man, that guy was so funny sometimes. First thing when we get here, Steve hops out complaining his watch-ma-call-it-hoochey-jazzie sounds rough. I swear that guy can't keep himself clean. His fingers were caked with grease, and I saw patches had already spread to his face when it popped out of the engine real quick like.

"Roar it, Soda." he said, all cool and serious.

Soda sat at the wheel, and ripped it hard, like some hot-shot in a movie car-chase. Steve put his ear close to the engine, so he could hear his 'baby'. Holy Mother of Mary's Underwear, ya'lld think he'd married a car, and his truck was his kid with how he'd treat it, all careful and over-protective. Man, that must have been an awkward experience to have a car-kid, but I'd of loved to be in on the bull session when he bragged about that.

"YYYOUCH! SHIT!" Steve bellowed out, as he jumped back from the car. Smoke pumped out of the engine. Soda cut it quick.

"Steve, Soda, you better fix that. We ain't got room for everyone in the Ford." Darry leaned against the hood, with Kimie asleep on his shoulders, her little arms huggin his head. He scowled, not wanting to have to squish himself in with six other people. Superman always threatened to leave us behind if the car wasn't working, but he never did. Behind all that muscle and bone was a heart.

"Hey, Darry don't you sweat it. We'll getting working in a giff." Sodapop answered, his head cocked against his arm leaning on the wheel. The movies-star slipped, and his arm crashed into the horn. It blasted loud in the empty lot. Steve was so startled he jumped and fell flat on his butt. I laughed, hell, I cackled.

Steve's head whipped in my direction, and scowled. If only I had a penny for every time he was pissed at me, I'd be rich. I laughed even harder, clutching my sides. Everyone else was laughing, even Darry chuckled and Johnny grinned. My stick, fell, only half smoked. Shit, what a waste.

I looked at Johnny. He stood near me, hands in pocket staring wistfully at the grey building. Ya'll could tell he was anxious, he was always like this before Dally got out.

"Hey kid, when's the fuzz say Dally's coming out?" I asked Johnny, slowly lightening another weed.

"10:30" was his short and quick reply.

"Pooooooooony, ya got a watch? How long we gotta wait for the hood?" I drawled, taking a drag.

"Nah, Soda?"

"Sorry little buddy."

"Steve?" Pony asked.

"Hell, kid, what do you think I look like, some polished up Soc with designer-gold watches." Steve snarled back at Pony. He had just brushed himself of any was wiping off the grease. I guess the car was fixed.

No one asked Darry. He'd sold his daddy's watch to pay the electricity last month. It had been a hard think fro him to do.

"Well, how we know, Dally ain't already free and out? Hell, he probably got extra-good behavior on his last night." I shivered, not wanting to stay here another minute.

"It's 10:29."

We all turned to stare at Johnny. That kid got two drunks for parents, and is poorer than dirt. He didn't have a watch, we all knew that.

Johnny noticed us staring and his ear tips turned redder than canned cranberry-sauce at Thanksgiving.

"Uhh..." and he pointed to a large clock tower on the left side of the prison. It was the same washed out grey color as the sky.

"Well, shit..." Steve said. Like the rest of the gang, we just stared, dumbfounded. I tried to calculate the thousand times I'd been here to pick up a buddy fresh from the cooler, and never noticed that damn clock.

It was Pony who was the first to speak.

"In class, my teacher says, that in books, things have meanings. Everything, even the color of the sky when the hero dies. Or like the color tie Paul Newman wears. It's supposed to reflect his mood or somum'. Sounds stupid right, but...what's that grey clock supposed to mean?"

Pony still shook with his arms stuffed in his shirt. His hand now just barely poked out or his collar to hold him cigarette as he talked. Pone looked like a penguin but I didn't have the heart to laugh at him.

Soda broke the silence that followed, as he jumped out of Steve's car, and took off his jacket,"Pone, look at you! It's the cold talkin'. All that crazy about ties, and moods."

Ponyboy looked relieved as Soda draped his jacket over him. Soda's magic fingers rubbed Pony's shoulders until you saw the color back in his cheeks.

"Soda, it's his fault for forgetting a jacket, you shouldn't of." Darry said.

"Can't let him freeze Darry." Soda grinned.

Steve slammed his car top, so no one else heard Johnny whisper, "Maybe they want us to forget what time it is, so we'll leave."

I brushed it off, and pretended not to hear, but it played at the back of my mind until Kimie woke up with a large dramatic yawn. I think I even forgot that I forgot it. That's how forgotten it was.

It was 10:59, when the prison doors opened, and Johnny swaggered out. That guy knows how to play it cool, cuz' he took his sweet time. Oh, he saw us, he just knew we weren't going anywhere so neither was he.

Darry was the first to great Dally, in the same way as always. Like an ancient ritual, Darry looked down at Dally imposingly, then smirked and swung his arm into a hand shake. Dally then grinned.

"Hey Dally!" Soda called out, sporting his movie star charm.

"Hmph," came Steve with a nod of his head.

"Dally," said Pony with a now cool composed look, but he couldn't help it, and broke out in a smile too.

"Ya'll get treated well? With all that gourmet food and luxury beds, I bet you didn't know what to do with yourself," I joked.

"Well, you know, all that class was too much for me to handle," Dally said with a smirk.

Johnny still stood behind me, hands in pockets, and eyes on the ground. Dally swaggered over to Johnny, and playfully slapped him on the back, "Hey Johnny-Boy, Ya miss me?"

"Yeah, Dal, I did man." Johnny lifted his eyes and smiled. He scrambled his hands out of his pockets with a cigerette box in his hand. "Wanna a Kool?"

"You know me so well, Johnny-Boy." Dally sheltered his match from the wind as he lit his cigarette. "Thanks man, shit you don't get these in the cooler. Hey Two-Bit you gotta joke for that? But anyways it ain't so bad, I mean there was a great fight, I mean the guy was really stupid, he goes up to-"

"Hey!" Kimie huffs. Her mouth puckers up like a lemon, and her little hands turn into fists. I remembered last night, and smiled to myself.

Dally staggered around, he knelt down in front of her.

"Well hey little munchkin, don't you sweat it, you're so short I forgot about you," he mocked.

Kimie grew red, she hated being called short or munchkin. Dally stood up, and backed away a few feet. He scowled at her, kool dangling from his lips. She broke into a pout, and her eyes filled with water. Running full speed, Kimie crashed into Dally and hugged his legs. She was short so her face came just above his knees.

Dally's eyes widened in shock, and his kool dropped out of his mouth and landed on the ground. His eyes narrowed again, "Hey squirt! You made me drop-hell you know how long i been without one of those-"

"Dally! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry! Sorry! Sorry!" Kimie sobbed into his tight jeans. She shook her head. Well ain't she one for theatrics?

"Hey!" Dally's eyebrows knitted together, and he massaged his forhead. "For what?!"

Kimie stopped. She lifted her head ever so slowly, and stared at him. Her lips puckered again, "I ain't tellin'! If you don't know I ain't tellin'!"

"What the hell you talkin' about!"

"It don't matter, I'm still sorry!"

Dally stared at me, then Darry, dumbfounded, trying to read just what was going on. Good thing He didn't see Soda laughing his pretty head off. I bet ol' Sodapop saw Kimie spit in Dally's eggs.