Hey y'all! On the road! I decided to write this short little one about Hurricane Camille in New Orleans, LA. I experienced some of the effects of Hurricane Katrina when I was little. It devastated my family, friends, and people I didn't even know. It's gonna be on Hurricane Camille from 1969, but it will have the effects of Hurricane Katrina from 2005. I know some grammar's off and spelling, but it's because of Soda's POV. Read, review, and Stay Gold!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders. All rights go to S.E. Hinton.
Moving out here was hard, I had to admit. New Orleans was ten times hotter than Tulsa. I hated it out here. After Dally and Johnny died, Ponyboy took it awful rough. Darry had to get a job transfer for engineering now, so we all moved out here. I didn't want to leave Steve and Two-Bit. They were my buddys. Really. But I took it and moved out here; fresh new start. That didn't happen. I worked at a DX down from Ninth Ward, right around the block where our new house was. Ponyboy hasn't fit in all that much, especially after Darry isn't home at all. We really only get to see him on Saturday nights and Sunday. No girls liked me; I was a greaser here. But trust me, they were a couple greasers here I could slug sometimes when they beefed me. Said I was trashyier than they were, said I spelled things wrong, said I had the worst ways of putting words together. I felt stupid around them. But if I did stay in school, I don't think it would've helped.
Pony's been awful sick lately. Doctor kept coming over and saying it was mono at worst. I didn't believe him. I took care of him until Pony thought he could back to school when I went to work, like today. He looked awful white this morning though. I was now walking home from work. I actually saw Darry's truck in the driveway. I was surprised.
"Hey, Ponyboy!" I screamed, running into the house. No one was in the living room or kitchen. There was no answer. I laughed and knocked on the bathroom door. It was open, but no one was in it. I carefully went into me and Ponyboy's bedroom. He was laying in bed, sleeping, I think, with that yellow thermometer in his mouth. Darry was sitting next to the edge of the bed.
"Hush, So."
"Okay, bunch of questions. Okay, one, why are you home early?"
"Ponyboy called work today. Said he really didn't feel well."
"Hey, Pone," I quietly kneeled down next to him. He was sweating. His eyes opened a little.
"Hi, Soda."
"You feelin' sick?" He nodded. I could tell his throat hurt.
"Do you want me to put a big red nose and a rainbow wig and tickle ya to death? Ya like that?" He smiled. I like it when he smiled. He was finally starting to look like Mom. She had those eyes and smile he did. He shook his head.
"Ya hungry?"
"I am. But I think I can't hold it down."
"What if I just made you a little bit of soup?"
"Are ya gonna color it?"
"It depends. Do you want it colored?"
"Blue."
"Ok, blue mushroom soup comin' right up. Go to sleep, hon," I grabbed Darry out of the room and closed the door behind us.
"I'm getting worried, Darry," We made our way into the kitchen as he took a stool at the counter.
"Now you're getting worried? I've been worried for almost three years ever since they died."
"I know… But I mean about Pony. He keeps getting sick."
"It's mono. Mono lasts for months, maybe even years." I hated how Darry made me think I was stupid. I was stupid.
"I guess." He got up and turned on the television set that was set up on the counter.
"Please don't tell me you're putting on the dumb news," I said. I started digging in the fridge to get mushrooms.
"I gotta. They said there was gonna be a hurricane warning. Category four."
"Hurricane?"
"Really, Soda?"
"I'm serious. What's a hurricane? I forgot."
"We've lived here for a year and you- never mind. A hurricane is when wind stirs up water by Africa. It travels wherever, usually where there's warm water. It has winds, uh, some flooding sometimes, and just destruction."
"Oh yeah. Isn't the Gulf of Mexico warm?"
"Yes, Soda. That's why they're sayin' it's comin' here," He said. I wanted to hurt him. He's much bigger and taller though. So I just rolled my eyes and went on rinsing mushrooms.
"Hurricane Camille is now ranked a Category five," I looked up from the sink and stared at the man on TV. Category five? Seemed a big deal.
"Again: Category five. Louisiana government has ordered as many people as possible to evacuate the city of New Orleans. Again: evacuate. Extreme weather will be coming through," He said. I looked at Darry and stopped the water.
"Extreme weather is coming through in less than twenty-four hours," The man said.
"Soda, we better start packing."
"No way, Darry! We've survived twisters and tornados! I ain't leaving cause of some dumb hurricane."
"Soda, we gotta. If we stay, not only will you and I get hurt, but Ponyboy here will probably get killed," He snapped.
"Darry, it's not gonna be that bad."
"Yeah it is, Soda. It's a category five. Less than twenty-four hours, it'll be windy and flooding here. We are leaving."
"We'll be fine, Darry. Pone will be fine."
"He ain't fine now, he'll be much worse if we stay."
"No he won't. He'll get through it."
"Sodapop, it's not your decision at all. It's mine as the guardian and your brother and I'm saying this; we are leaving. End of story. Make the soup and get your stuff together." He stood up, turned off the TV, and walked into his bedroom. I squeezed my fingers again the blade of the switchblade on the counter. I hated Darry right now. He used to favor me, but he was strict. Pain went through my hand. I saw blood leaking out of my hand, flooding the counter. Is that what it was gonna be like tomorrow?
He looked really pale. I hated when he did. Like a pillow with grey green eyes. He looked helpless. Like he could die right now. He couldn't do anything about it. Eyes were closed. Sweat on his face.
"We're evacuating?" He asked me hoarsely. I nodded and went on stroking his hair.
"But I don't want to leave."
"I know, little man. But we gotta. Darry ain't gonna let us stay."
"Why can't we?"
"Because you're sick."
"Because of me?"
"Yeah."
"Can you get Darry for me?" I nodded and went into the living room where Darry was packing frames.
"What?" He straightened up. He was tall like Dad.
"Ponyboy wants to see ya," I said. He nodded, ordered me to put the rest of the frames in boxes and went into our room. I looked at him in that tank top and jeans. Would I look that tuff? Naw, I liked the way I looked with my greasy hair and face. Looked more like Mom like that. I waited a couple minutes after packing the frames and all until he came out.
"Help me pack a couple more boxes," He said. I raised one eyebrow, a trick I learned from Two-Bit. Glory, I missed that guy.
"Why?"
"We're staying, but I still want the stuff in the attic just in case," He said, wiping his hands on his pants. I got off the couch and grabbed the box of frames.
"In case of what?"
"Flooding, So," Darry answered, opening the attic door. I got up the stairs and put the box by the chest that had all of our old toys in it.
"Ok."
"Did you put him up to it?" He asked when I came back down. I shook my head.
"No! He asked why and all," I said, heading into the kitchen.
"Why what?"
"Why we were leaving," I looked around for stuff to pack.
"I don't get you two," He said, handing me a moving box.
"I don't get you," I said, taking it. He lowered his eyes at me handed me a vase.
"Back up the vases. Get to bed after that. We gotta watch out tomorrow."