#rodneydodger

The summer sun bore down on the streets of Tulsa. Holly had become so accustomed to the moderate weather in Oregon that she had forgotten how miserable summers in Oklahoma could be. Her dress clung to her sticky stomach. Her hair was longer now, hanging close to halfway down her back. Not only did she look different, but she felt different - no longer an irrational teenage girl, but a woman in her own right. 

Learning how to live in Tulsa again was difficult. Instead of getting in touch with her friends and family upon her return, she had moved to a home of her own. The town felt different; it was strange how much simpler the town was without the influence of the Soc and Greaser rivalry. She had never considered that there were some people in the town who didn’t notice the constant fighting and monetary prejudice. Those ideas felt foreign to her now, and life was simpler.

Holly was returning to her home after spending the day at the rebuilt Juliet’s Cafe, catching up with Juliet and helping out. Mostly, she spent her days writing in the corner - she was a writer now, publishing poems and short stories and working on a novel -, but it was nice to have company who cared enough to stop and chat during downtime hours, and Juliet had always been that to Holly. No one else really knew that Holly had returned home besides Juliet. Holly had never had anonymity, a concept which she now found refreshing. 

It was nighttime, but the sun had only just started to set, casting soft hints of orange into the otherwise blue sky. Her small white house with her white Thunderbird car sat in the distance, on the corner. It was right on the border of the Greaser and Soc territories, but somehow no one had noticed her or her house. She watched her former friends pass by from her kitchen window, sometimes in herds, sometimes alone, as they came to and from Juliet’s, the Rolladium, The Drive-In. They looked happy, and she was happy for them.

Five nice things about myself.

When Dot was nominated by Ricky, it had brought a smile to her face. Everything about this challenge made her smile: it was nice to see a positive force in Tulsa for once, nice to remember how much she loved it. She had tucked the note away and exuded light for the rest of the day.

Then she'd gone back to an empty house, to the home she'd made with one of her best friends. Made herself dinner, brushed her teeth, tidied up, checked the messaged. Found a notepad and pen, ready to write down the five things she would say. And came up with nothing. She'd stayed up until the early hours of the morning, unable to stop trying to think of something that she liked. It should be easier than this, yet everything she thought of seemed tainted by something she had done, or she managed to twist it into something undesirable: Loyal, but she hadn't been. I don't like hurting people, and yet she'd hurt them. Thoughtful, but overly so. Listens to people, too quiet.

In all honesty, she wasn't used to being a part of these trends. She was used to slipping through the cracks, used to sneaking around with Fletcher so much that they stopped noticing, or lying to the ones that did about why she wasn't there, why she hadn't taken part. And there was a part of Dot that liked the safety of that.

But there was another part of her that was tired of it, and that was the part that she focused on as she walked to work the next morning with a slight detour, still at just as much of a loss for what she would say as the night before. She ducked into Juliet's, smiling nervously around the place as her fingers played with the hem of her shirt.

"Hi," she started, voice somewhat meek against the current chatter of the café, and no one paid any mind. She gritted her teeth, raising her voice louder. "Um- hey. Everyone." Still nothing. Only the man standing next to her took notice. She grimaced, stuffing her hands in her pockets and preparing to give up when the man's shoot boomed through the café - "Oi!". Almost everyone turned, and the man shot Dot a kind smile which she hesitantly returned. "This girl's got somethin' ta say."

"Thanks," she whispered to him, before raising her voice again. "Hi, everyone. I, um, I was challenged by Ricky Jacobs to say five nice things about myself in public... So, if this is annoying, take it up with him." she smiled half-heartedly, deciding to latch on to the most obvious thing. "One. I'm a really good cook. It's what I love doing and... yeah." she trailed off, floundering.

She stood there frozen for a moment, no idea what to say, what was good about herself. The people in the café looked on in bemusement as she stood there like a goldfish. Why was this so hard? It would've been easier if she could say five nice things about someone else - hell, she could list 30 nice things about anyone she knew without so much as a second thought.

"Two," she swallowed, starting again. "I see the best in other people. Even if we're not friends, even if we don't get along... I don't think there's a person in this town that I couldn't say something nice about."

"Three, I'm a real fast runner. When I was thirteen I could beat Rodney in a race." she smiled fondly, getting into the swing of this. "Four, my dad tells me that I look like my mother, and even though I never met her, I know she was really beautiful. And," she took a deep breath, pausing for a moment. "I'm scared of a lotta things, but I'm not afraid to care about people. And I'm not afraid to tell them, either. I'm pretty sure everyone I love knows it, and they know that I'm there to help them no matter what."

It's a celebration of life around town nowadays, we almost forget that the next second we'll be plotting demises of great leader boys. As I reported on the blessed morning of weary-eyed teens and glowing aunts and uncles made, the cries of young Dodger Adams were carried on Tulsa winds. Can I point out the irony of the namesake? Nah, you can see that clear as day for yourselves. The next generation of Wolf Pack begins, just ask his parents what his middle name means...

Speaking of future Greaser leaders, shall we talk about everyone's favorite love-to-hate-him current head of Greaser affairs? Pun intended. Last week saw this wicked columnist's usual visit to the grand ol' hospital because sometimes I think you lot frequent that place more than the mall. Nothing serious (for once), but I did find a straggling Soc getting some stitches and a shot or two before being sent on his way. I investigated, and he admitted to an encounter with the infamous Rodney Dodger. Let's just say, Rodney hasn't developed a knack for biting his victims. Things are heating up when the sun goes down, and someone's losing patience.

Someone came straight from the hospital, not that night, but another night, one more special. Yes, that's the one. However, while everyone else waited anxiously by the telephone for word on Dodger Bear, a certain blonde nurse and Tulsa's single dad casanova were caught sucking face in the Adams' barn. You know who I mean, they were makin' eyes at each other all night before then.

On the horizon, I see a baby's first birthday and a Soc party. It gives me the chills, what will you do at the next party?

Stay Fab!

The smell of something cooking wafted through from the kitchen, but Odette barely registered it. She was sitting at the table, not moving a muscle, just watching the clock and waiting until she would have to make her way to Madelyn's. Since Penny Lane had published those flyers, everything had gone by in something of a daze for her. Thoughts plaguing her no matter how much she tried to avoid them.

Part of her wanted so badly just to tell everyone. Maybe she would lose everything, but the weight that she had carried since she was twelve would be finally lifted from her shoulders, and the choice thrust into everyone else's arms. Only she couldn't fuck Fletcher over like that. Couldn't give him up, either. But there was Ricky, too, and lying to him was a hard thing to rationalise. Rodney's voice sounded in her head.

Decide your loyalties.

He was right. She had to decide - except that she didn't. For now, at least, it was entirely possible to continue exactly as she had been: seeing Ricky while sneaking around with Fletcher without him knowing; telling herself she wasn't still in love with him; remaining with the greasers while chatting up socs and chasing her dream; the constant compartmentalisation, constant lies to herself and the people she loved.

It was this non-choice that made things so hard. To just remain still would be simultaneous loyalty to and betrayal of everyone - it was morally repugnant. And yet it was so, so, tempting. The more she thought about it the more she didn't know what else to do. Wasn't a heavy heart better than a broken one?

Loyal to everyone and you're loyal to no-one, she reminded herself, and maybe she wasn't, but that didn't mean she cared about them any less, didn't mean that she --

"Eat up, kiddo." A plate slid towards her, and Dot glanced up at her father's concerned face. Thinking about it, she couldn't remember eating anything for the past few days, although she still was not hungry. She glanced back down to see pancakes, with her name scrawled messily across like he'd done when she was a kid and, along with pasta and toast, pancakes were one of the only things he could make successfully. Her eyes pricked with tears and her mouth lifted into a smile; the clash of emotions standard to her by this point. "Go on," he urged her.

Breaking her statuesque posture, she leant forward and lifted a piece to her mouth. The first morsel of food hit her stomach, and she suddenly felt ravenous. Her father sat next to her and watched, and once she finished she set her fork down and leaned into him.

"I don't know what to do." she admitted softly, and his arm wrapped around her. He murmured something that was reassuring more in the way he said it than the what he said, and they stayed that way for a while longer, watching the seconds pass by together.

No matter how hard she tried, this much conflict just couldn't remain stable for long. She knew then,with all the certainty of a prophet, that something was going to give, and it was not going to be pretty. But no matter what, her loyalty lay here. With her father.

Dear Anonymous Reader,

Ooh, fanmail! How I love those words, dove, you sure know how to make a lady blush. Flattery will get you everywhere on this blog. Personal opinion is usually set aside for my objective writings, but since you’ve got me all buttered up, you win. Let’s not make it a habit, ya dig?

Though I will give them a hard time until the day my eye-sight goes and my fingers get to arthritis-y to work a typewriter, I will have a fondness in my heart for the couple who taught us all that love is stronger than hate. Yes, darlings, I’m talking about the Adams’. If you think there’s not going to be a Dodger Bear Watch ‘69 in this article, you don’t know Lane.

Of course I’m rooting for the King and Queen Greaser, who gave me a fantastic ‘will they, won’t they’ arc on here. If two people are meant for each other, it’s Carmen Welch and Rodney Dodger.

Can you imagine the heads that would spin clear on its axis if Gwen Tanner and Castello Jacobsen put their controversial friendship to proper use? I can, and I crave that drama like a good piece of Hershey’s chocolate. Also, because I called that weeks and weeks back, and I love ‘I told you so’ articles. However, for drama purposes only, you two would be totally toxic to each other. Gwen would spend far too much time trying to save him like she failed to save Rodney, and Cas wouldn’t know to do without Sherri wearing those pants.

Brynn Turner and Hunter Finn, who were seen getting nice and cozy on the dance floor the other night, would make such a delightful spark of Soc power. I get little goosebumps thinking about all the possibilities in that union.

Madelyn Strickler and Fletcher Blackwood, however, have chemistry that would make normal humans explode. If those two don’t become one of the ‘It’ couples around here, it would be a travesty.

I won’t bore you with all my hopes and dreams, so that’s all for now. Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. I’ve shown you mine, now you show me yours. I’ll do a special confessions edition, in honor of the love holiday, romance is the topic. Unrequited affections, who you want to see get their stars in alignment, who you wish hadn’t. Send it in and I’ll send it out. Stay Fab!

Sincerely,

Hey! Congratulations.