Darry
Ever since my parents died I've been looking at things in a new light. I felt the same undying allegiance to Dally, Steve, Two-bit, and Johnny that my brothers did, but I felt like I was seeing things a bit more clearly.
I was walking home from work one night, the car was in the shop, and I hear my name. Dally falls into step beside me.
"Where ya headed?" he said, cupping his hand to light his cigarette.
"Uh, home," I said, and I was exhausted. I could feel it in my bones.
"Let's get a beer," he suggested, and I shrugged. I didn't have to get up that early the next day since it was Saturday. I wouldn't have to go to my roofing job until the afternoon, so figured what the hell.
We stopped at a bar and I got a beer and waited for it to relax me. I didn't drink that much, I didn't smoke, I didn't do anything but work, really. But work became its own sort of drug. And I watched Dally smoke cigarette after cigarette and match one of my beers with two or three of his own and I thought about the differences between our lives. Dally wasn't responsible for anybody but himself. I had the weight of the house, the bills, Soda, and Ponyboy on my shoulders. It all weighed on me, it all fell on me.
Not that I begrudged Dally, I really didn't. I felt kind of bad for him. I didn't think his reckless behavior was going to lead him anywhere good. But I did find myself envying his ability to be in the moment. I was always in the future, I was thinking of when the next bill had to be paid and how Pony would get to college and how I'd get out of the two job low pay rut I was in. I missed all the moments.
I squinted through the smoke at him, at his un-greased blond hair and sharp smile. I knew the things he did, the stealing and the cheating and the doubling crossing people and the getting into fights. I worried sometimes that Ponyboy or Soda might be with him when he's up to trouble, getting them into trouble. I forbid them from seeing plenty of people, Buck Merril and the Shepard boys and a few others and if Dally wasn't, well, Dally, I'd forbid them to see him, too. But of course I couldn't. I didn't know why. We'd known him forever and he was part of the family, for better or worse. But I sometimes thought it was worse.
We walked to my house past the lot. In the light of the fire I could make out a figure huddled near it. We got closer and I saw that it was Johnny, huddled down in his jean jacket and smoking. I didn't know about Johnny, either. He almost seemed beyond protecting. He was younger and small like Ponyboy, but at least with Pony I had some control. I could make sure he had everything he needed, that he did his school work and that he played sports and that he had things, that he wasn't hurt. Johnny's parents were alcoholics, violent ones, and no matter what you did you couldn't change that. With Johnny, I thought, seeing the nervous suspicious look that was always in his eyes, seeing how he would jerk away from you if you went at him too fast, I thought the damage might already be done.
The lights were on at my house but no one was there. Soda would be fine and was probably out with Steve and Sandy, but where was Ponyboy? I glanced down at my watch and saw that it was midnight. He should be home, no school or not. One look at my face and Dally knew what I was thinking.
"He's fine, Darry," he said, laughing. I shrugged, hoping he was in his bedroom.
"Yeah," I said, not convinced, heading down the hall but I felt that he wasn't there.
"You worry too much," Dally said, and I thought maybe he was right. I wondered what it was like, for a split second, to be Dally, and not have to worry at all.