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Dallas Winston was extremely drunk. So drunk that Buck kicked him out of the bar until he sobered up.
He stumbled to the Curtis house. He pushed the door open and only Darry was awake.
“Hey, Dallas. Are you drunk?”
Dally didn’t respond and he lay down on the couch.
“Are you okay?”
Dally wasn’t okay. But he wasn’t about to tell Darry that. “‘M fine.”
“Sit up,” Darry said, pulling him into a sitting position. “You don’t get this drunk for no reason.”
Dally held his arms around his stomach in a protective position. “It’s just a bad day.”
“Did something happen today?”
“Not today,” Dally said.
“When then?” Darry sat down beside Dally. He had never seen the teen so torn up about anything.
“Six years ago today.”
Darry thought back to then but Dally hadn’t been in Tulsa six years ago. “New York?”
Dally nodded.
Darry wrapped an arm around Dally’s shoulders and for once Dally let him.
—
“Hey, Dallas, Dallas, Dally, Dally.” A boy said, poking Dally in the face.
An eleven-year-old Dally woke up with a scowl. “What?”
“Come on, there's fireworks down at Brooklyn Bridge.” He pulled Dally out of his bed and threw shoes at him. “I don’t wanna miss them.”
“Can’t you go by yourself?”
“No, now hurry up.”
Dallas pulled his shoes on and followed the other boy as he scaled the fire escape.
The two boys ran through the streets toward Brooklyn Bridge.
Dallas spotted a few people they knew and elbowed the other boy and pointed at them.
The boy grinned at him and then began to run with Dallas hot on his heels.
The boy jumped and landed on one of the other boys' backs and wrapped his arms around him.
Dally did the same thing to the other boy and they began some kind of tussle with Dally on his back.
“Get off me, Mikey.” The other boy groaned trying to get the boy’s hands off him.
“Never. Say uncle.”
“Not a chance.” They began to fight and Mikey got him in a chokehold.
“Say uncle, Brian! Say it.” Mikey yelled.
“You dirty bastard.” Brian gasped, trying to dislodge his grip.
Dallas had pinned the fourth boy to the ground and he said uncle.
Brian eventually tapped out when he began seeing spots of black in his sight.
Dallas and Mikey did some kind of handshake and laughed as the two other boys right themselves.
“Come on, we're going to the harbour,” Mikey said. “There’s fireworks on.”
The four boys set off shoving each other and laughing.
—
“Mikey, Mikey, Mikey, Mikey,” Dallas said, shaking his friend awake.
“What, what, what, what?” Mikey groaned.
“I’m bored.”
“Then let’s go find something to do.”
They found a group of boys around their age and settled down to play some poker.
Mikey grinned at his cards and Dallas elbowed him.
“You gotta have a poker face like me.”
Mikey quickly straightened his face and scowled.
“Wow, three aces!” Dally said, showing Mikey his cards. Mikey grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.
The other boys looked at them, rolling their eyes.
After a few rounds, Mikey and Dally left to find something else to do.
“Man, I’m starving,” Mikey said.
“The usual?”
“The usual.”
They headed over to the farmers market that was open three days a week.
Mikey messed up his hair a bit and made an innocent expression that made him look much younger than he actually was.
“You gotta teach me how to do that,” Dallas said.
“One day Dal. One day. Now get into position.”
Mikey sidled up to a stall and innocently perused the wares.
He glanced to his left and saw Dallas grab an apple from the stall in plain sight of the owner. And just like clockwork, the seller began to chase Dallas.
Mikey laughed to himself and grabbed some stuff off the stall before taking off in the other direction.
He went to the harbour and waited for Dally to show up.
Dallas came along a few minutes later and sat beside him. “Why am I always the bait?”
“Because you’re faster than me.”
“True.”
“You want an apple?”
He nodded and Mikey passed it to him.
“I can’t wait to get out of here,” Mikey said wistfully.
Dally rolled his eyes. “I know I know, you’re gonna run away and live in Oklahoma with your horses.”
“Yeah, I will!” Mikey said. “And if you keep whining I’m not gonna bring you with me.”
“I’ll just follow you.” Dallas shrugged unconcernedly.
“I won’t tell you where I’m going.”
“I’d find you.”
“We’ll see.” He huffed.
Mikey pushed his glasses up on his face irritatedly. They had been broken and sellotaped back together more times than Mikey could count.
Dally made fun of him to no end for needing glasses but the second someone else tried they would lose a tooth or two.
“Come on, let's go to my place. My folks are out for the day. Probably the night as well.” Mikey said, standing up.
Dally shrugged and followed him.
—
Mikey fiddled with the handles on the radio. He finally found a song and stepped back with a proud smile.
“You’re a dork.” Dallas snorted.
Well, you gave me all your lovin
And your turtle doving
All your hugs and kisses
And your money too
“Are you just gonna sit there?” Mikey asked.
Dally heaved a heavy sigh and got to his feet. Mikey forced him to dance along to the beat.
Well, that'll be the day
When you say goodbye
Yes, that'll be the day
When you make me cry
You say you're gonna leave
You know it's a lie
'Cause that'll be the day
When I die
Dally hid his smile and tried to scowl but Mikey saw it anyway and laughed. “So he can smile.”
“Shut your mouth, Michael.”
“Ooh, the full name. Ouch.”
Mikey spun Dally in a circle and laughed when he almost fell over since Mikey was shorter than him.
When Cupid shot his dart
He shot it at your heart
So if we ever part
Then I'll leave you
Dally laughed as Mikey’s glasses slid down his nose and Mikey went temporarily blind.
“You’re real funny Dallas,” Mikey said, rolling his eyes and pushed his glasses up again.
“I know.” Dally messed up Mikey’s hair and the shorter boy yelled indignantly before tackling Dallas.
They tumbled to the ground in a friendly tussle.
Well, that'll be the day, oh-oh
That'll be the day, oh-oh
That'll be the day, oh-oh
That'll be the day
—
Dally lay on Mikey’s bed as Mikey took out his pocket version of The Little Prince. Wherever Mikey was he had that book in his pocket.
“Read it out loud,” Dally said.
“You’re always so polite, aren’t you Dallas?”
“Please.”
“That’s better. Once when I was six years old I saw a beautiful picture in a book about a primaeval forest called True Stories. It showed a boa constrictor swallowing an animal.”
Mikey was in no way an excellent reader. He sometimes had to stop to figure out how to pronounce a word or he would stumble over a sentence but Dally wouldn’t want it any other way.
He lay on his side and watched as Mikey pushed his glasses up his nose and frowned when he stumbled over a word.
Sometimes Dally wondered how he got such a nerdy best friend but in the end, he wouldn’t trade Mikey for anything.
—
Mikey and Dally lay on a rooftop as the moon shone down on them.
“You know what I really want, Dallas?”
“To live in Oklahoma with horses?”
“That and I want to live long enough to see everyone be equal. I don’t want to always be judged by my skin. You know?”
“Yeah, I know,” Dally mumbled. He knew how much shit Mikey faced almost daily for having dark skin.
“And I just want to be able to see everyone be equal. Doesn’t matter about their skin, gender, religion, or even who they like. Just everyone can be themselves.”
“I think you’re gonna have to live a few centuries to see that Mikey.”
“I know.” He sighed. “It’s the rich people’s fault.”
“That’s why I’m gonna eat the rich one day.” Dally snarked and Mikey laughed.
“I’m sure you will. But spare Marilyn Monroe. She seems nice enough.”
“Just for you.”
“Thanks, Dal.”
“You goin’ home tonight?”
Mikey shrugged, still staring up at the sky. “Maybe.”
“Well if you don’t, just swing by my house. It’s getting real cold. You’ll freeze soon.”
“I will.”
Dallas held his hand out for the handshake. Mikey grinned and did it before Dally climbed off the roof.
—
“Wanna go out tonight?” Mikey asked.
“Nah I’m tired. Your dad on a mean streak again?”
Mikey sighed and sat back. “You know it.”
“You can stay at mine if you want.” Dally offered.
“No, I’ll go down to the diner for a while. Then sneak into my house or something.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Yeah. You sure you don’t want to come out tonight?”
“I’m sure.”
“See you later Dallas.” Mikey gave him a quick side hug that Dallas brushed off indignantly. Mikey ran off laughing and waved back.
—
Dallas was surprised the next morning when he didn’t wake to Mikey poking him in the face.
He checked the clock to see if he woke early but no.
He wondered if Mikey’s dad had gone too hard on him and he was really hurt.
He grabbed his shoes and hopped out his window and ran to Mikey’s house.
He scaled the drainpipe and knocked on Mikey’s window.
There was nobody there.
He hopped down and ran down to the harbour where Mikey loved to hang out.
He searched it up and down twice and there was no sign of Mikey.
Dally went to every place around New York where he knew Mikey liked to go but he wasn’t anywhere.
“Brian, Richie!” He yelled to their friends. He ran up and held his hand out for the handshake.
He finally registered their appearances. Brian’s eyes were red-rimmed and Richie looked angrier than Dallas had ever seen him.
“What’s goin’ on? Have any of you seen Mikey? I’ve been looking everywhere for him.” Dallas was slightly unnerved. Brian never cried. Even after he broke his arm and collarbone, he didn’t shed a tear.
“There was an accident last night, Dallas,” Brian said quietly. “Mikey’s dad-” Brian broke off and began to cry again. Richie pulled them into an alley, away from the eyes of any passersby.
“Mikey’s dad was so drunk he didn’t know when to stop.” Richie spat angrily. “And Mikey’s dead.”
Dally took a step back and began shaking his head. “No, he’s not. Come on, I’m not that stupid. You can come out now, Mikey! This isn’t funny.”
“He’s not gonna come out Dallas,” Brian whispered.
“This is a pretty sick joke,” Dally said angrily.
“We have to go to the funeral home. They need someone to identify him. And his deadbeat parents said no. And here’s the kicker, the police aren’t arresting his dad. Because there isn’t enough evidence against him.” Richie kicked a can angrily.
“Those fuckers. Where’s his dad?! I’ll kill him! I’ll do it!” Dally shouted.
“He caught the first plane out of here,” Brian said. “He’s long gone. So’s his mom.”
“And the police just let him?! He killed an eleven-year-old for god’s sake!”
“It’s the police, man. If they’re bad at anything it’s their job.” Richie muttered furiously.
“We have to go back to the funeral home,” Brian murmured.
“Let’s go then.” Dallas snapped.
—
Richie said he couldn’t go in. The boy looked on the verge of breaking down in the hall so the other two let him be.
Dallas took a deep breath and opened the door.
There was a small woman there who watched the two boys sadly.
“Is that him?” Dally whispered pointing to a body covered by a sheet.
The woman nodded. “If you could step forward please.”
Dally’s legs almost gave out from under him when his friend’s face was revealed. He had almost made himself believe that this was a big joke but now Mikey was right here in front of him.
He would’ve fallen to the floor if Brian hadn’t held him up.
“Mikey,” Dally whispered and put a hand gently on his friend’s face. “He’s so cold. He’s always warm. And where are his glasses? He can’t see without his glasses. Put his dorky glasses on!”
“Dally. You gotta calm down.” Brian whispered.
Dally pushed Brian off him and desperately grasped Mikey’s hand. “You wanna go down to the harbour, Mikey? You’ve gotta wake up though. We can do whatever you want if you wake up. Please Mikey!”
The woman had seen many people come in and break down over the bodies of their loved ones. But she had never had two children come in to identify another child. She picked up a small box and passed it to the boy who wasn’t having a breakdown. “It has everything he had on him when he came to us.” She said quietly.
Dally begged and pleaded with Mikey’s corpse but nothing he did made Mikey move an inch.
“Come on, Dallas,” Brian whispered, wrapping an arm around Dally’s shoulders. “We should make sure Richie’s alright.”
“But Mikey-”
“He’ll be okay,” Brian said with a wavering voice. “He’s tough. You know Mikey.”
Dally cried and cried and when they came out into the hall they found Richie curled up in a chair sobbing.
Brian couldn’t hold himself together anymore and the three friends cried together.
“Here Dallas.” Brian sniffed. “We agreed you should get these.” Brian handed him the box. “Take real good care of them, you hear?”
Dally opened the box and a new flood of tears came through when he saw the pocket version of The Little Prince, Mikey’s sellotape glasses, his necklace, a photo of him, Dallas, Brian, and Richie, and his prize switchblade.
“You better look after them,” Richie muttered, rubbing his eyes harshly.
Dally’s legs gave out from under him and Brian caught him as he let out heart-wrenching cries, begging for Mikey to come back.
—
Dally held his box close and ran for the bus stop. He wasn’t staying in New York anymore. He couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye to Brian and Richie because he knew that it would only bring more tears and shouting.
He handed all the money he had to the bus driver and was let on.
He was on his way to Oklahoma. Just like Mikey had always wanted.
—
Dally stared at the woman in front of him with suspicion. “Why would I come back to your house?”
“Honey, your knuckles need bandages, you look half-starved and all you have is that box.” The woman said gently.
“I don’t need help,” Dally said obstinately. He held Mikey’s box close to his chest as if to make sure the woman didn’t try and take it.
“Just for tonight.” The woman said, holding out a hand for a handshake.
Dally really needed food and he knew the woman was being genuine. “Just for tonight.” He shook her hand.
“I’m Paula Curtis.”
“I’m Dallas.”
—
“So what’s in the box?” Mrs. Curtis asked as she rubbed an antiseptic wipe gently over his knuckles.
“Just some of my friend’s things. I’m gonna give them back when I see him.”
“Does your friend live in Tulsa? Maybe we could help you find him.”
Dally looked away as he swallowed deeply to keep the tears away. “No, he lives in New York.” He cursed as he heard his voice waver.
“Oh well, you’ll give them back to him someday.” Paula comforted. Dally nodded shortly. “Come on, dinner should be nearly ready.”
—
Now back in 1966, a much older Dally lay on the Curtis couch fast asleep.
“Dallas, Dallas, Dally, Dally.” Dally felt someone poking his face.
There were only three people he knew who would be stupid enough to do that. One was dead and he hadn’t seen the other two in years.
His eyes sprung open and he almost fell off the couch when he came face to face with Brian.
“Brian?” He said incredulously. He stumbled to his feet and pulled him into a tight hug.
Brian laughed slightly and hugged him back.
Dallas coughed and stepped back when he remembered the gang was in the room. “What are you doing here, man?”
“Almost seven years and that’s what you say. I’m here to see you obviously.”
“Is Richie here?” He asked.
“Nah he’s got twenty years in prison for killing a guy.”
“I expected that,” Dally said.
Brian’s eyes trailed down and locked on Dallas’ necklace. “You wear it?”
Dallas gave him a slightly strained smile. “Never took it off.”
“Have you still got his other stuff?” Brian asked quietly.
“Of course I do. You think I’d get rid of it?”
“You never know with you. Can I see them?”
Dallas took out his wallet and showed him the photograph.
“I always hated that photo,” Brian said with a sad smile. “It got my bad side.”
The gang all slowly left the room to let the two old friends catch up.
“What about the rest of it?”
Dally glanced around for the gang before he stood up and moved a few books off the bookshelf and pulled the box out.
He pulled out Mikey’s switchblade first.
“Do you remember when he stole this? He was so proud of himself.” Brian laughed weakly as he remembered a ten-year-old Mikey racing down the road and tackling Dallas to show him.
“Yeah, I probably still have that bruise,” Dallas said, rolling his eyes but he smiled at the memory.
Next, he pulled out the book.
“The only book Mikey ever read.” Brian joked softly. He took the book and flicked through the pages that still had Mikey’s notes scribbled in the margins. But they were faded with time.
“Yeah,” Dallas whispered as his fingers ghosted over his old friend’s handwriting.
And finally Mikey’s glasses.
“Oh my god. I forgot you had these.” Brian laughed. “He was such a nerd.”
“Yeah, he was.” Dally stared at the glasses in his hands. He hadn’t looked at anything in this box in years. Except for the photo and the necklace. “The biggest nerd in New York.”
Brian actually laughed that time. “He hated that name so much. Remember when he fought Snakes over that.”
“And had to be saved because Snakes was ten years older than him,” Dallas added sarcastically.
“And then we all got arrested. Those were the days.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had friends like ours since we were eleven,” Dallas said.
“Does anyone?”
—
Dallas sat on the couch by himself after Brian left.
He held all Mikey’s things in his hand and stared at them. It was all he had left of his best friend.
That and the memories that were almost all funny or stupid.
The one that had been eating away at Dally for years was the last time he saw Mikey alive. When Mikey had hugged him and Dally pushed him off. Even if Mikey had laughed, Dally wished he had hugged him back more than anything. Hell, he would give anything he owned to hug Mikey.
He couldn’t bear to think how scared Mikey must’ve been when he died. Mikey was never big on fights. He said it reminded him of his dad too much.
And he had had so many dreams. Much more than Dallas ever had and probably ever will.
Johnny came in and sat beside him. “Who’s that?” He asked quietly, pointing at the photograph.
“My friends,” Dally whispered. He had never ever been this vulnerable with anyone except the people in the photo. “My best friends.”
“Is that the one who was just here?” Johnny asked pointing at the boy in the middle.
Dally shook his head and tried to force back any tears that tried to come out of his eyes. “No, that's Mikey. That’s Brian, he was just here. And that’s Richie.”
“Where are the other two now? Did you have a fight or something?”
Dally shook his head again. “Richie’s in jail. And Mikey’s- Mikey’s dead.” He swore in his head when he stuttered. Dallas Winston never stuttered.
“Oh. Is that why Brian came by?”
“No, it happened years ago.” Dallas couldn’t help himself as he put all of Mikey’s things down and pulled Johnny into a tight hug.
Johnny was shell-shocked, to say the least. Dally had never in his memory hugged anyone. Johnny slowly wrapped his arms around Dallas as well.
“What was that for?” Johnny asked quietly when Dally pulled away.
“You remind me of someone. Sorry for gettin’ emotional.”
“Who?” Johnny asked. His brain was still trying to reboot.
“Just someone I used to know. His family- his family was like yours. And I-well let’s just say I shoulda given him better hugs.”
Johnny didn’t push him any further and Dallas slowly opened the pocket version of The Little Prince and began reading silently. He could still hear the echo of Mikey in his head. Stumbling over the big words and laughing when Dally started falling asleep.
Once when I was six years old I saw a beautiful picture in a book about a primaeval forest called True Stories. It showed a boa constrictor swallowing an animal…