Where I Stand
(Ponyboy's POV)
I awoke fearfully, freezing slightly under Soda's arm as the adrenaline of the dream seemed to buzz through my veins before fading and leaving me shaking a bit. I buried myself in his side and without waking up he pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. I closed my eyes and tried to let his comfort drive away the fear I felt. Ever since mom and dad had died I felt this fear. Fear that someone else would die and leave me like they did. It was why Soda had come into my room, because it was him I worried about most. I think I would be able to deal with anyone else dying, but not Soda.
I lay there and just listened to his heartbeat against my ear as his chest moved up and down rhythmically. It usually soothed me but I couldn't help it. Tonight something was running through my mind and I couldn't seem to let it go no matter what.
Darry had worked late tonight, and we'd had dinner waiting for him. I had made it, since I'd been home first, and Soda wasn't really so fond of cooking. Soda liked to know exactly what needed to be done and had it happen the same way every single time for him. He thrived on consistency. When he cooked he couldn't focus on the details and instead took his own approach, which often enough became a problem. So I cooked and he cleaned up the dishes.
Darry came in and ate hurriedly like I knew him to. He gave me his usual third degree – did I get my homework done? Did I go to track practice? Was the trash taken out?
I answered all of his questions and finally he seemed to drop his attention from me to Soda. I sighed in relief.
"Soda, this is a great dinner, buddy. Good job."
Soda looked up and smiled but looked at me and said "Shoot, you know I can't cook. Pony made it." I was a bit surprised at the compliment and I looked up at Darry and nodded.
Darry gave me a nod, but shrugged right after and returned his attention to his food. "Whatever."
Soda's smile faltered but he gave me a reassuring grin and continued to eat.
I tried my best to ignore it. Things were always like this with Darry and I should be getting used to it, but I wasn't. And yet, I couldn't. I couldn't understand why Darry didn't like me. Why he treated me like I wasn't as good as Soda was. Sure, Soda was more handsome and real nice to everyone and could cheer anyone up with a smile. Sure he did give Darry back massages and he worked full time to help out, but… didn't I deserve to have some praise? Didn't I do well in school and was one of the best track runners on my team? I always offered to do whatever I could to help out, didn't I? Darry wasn't the only one who took on more responsibility after mom and dad died.
But I guess Darry couldn't help liking Soda more than me. After all, didn't I like Soda better than Darry? I mean, I love them both, but who would I rather spend time with, or get a hug from? Darry gave hugs like he was grabbing hold of a bundle of roofing.
I just wish Darry would give me some credit. Sure I was absent-minded and I did things without thinking about them, but I was trying hard to stop that, and I hadn't messed up in nearly 3 months. It's funny how you always hear about it when you mess up but no one says anything when you do an okay job.
I crawled out from Soda's embrace and even though he seemed reluctant to let me go, he didn't wake up. I sat up and looked at him under the moonlight rays coming through from the Venetian blinds. He really did look like a Greek God. Sometimes I just wished he'd stay asleep, because when he did, he looked like he didn't have a care in the world. He really did, not just in that fake way he'd put on when he was around us. I knew he really was happy-go-lucky, but I could tell it bothered him how much he had to work, and still how Sandy had left him and how Johnny and Dally had died. It probably bothered him how Darry always worked and how I never seemed to talk much anymore. I wanted to stop doing that, to talk more and have more to say, but there really wasn't much to say. What's left after your best friend dies? The only one who you ever really connected with and were able to talk to?
Soda was my best friend now, I guessed, even if I wasn't his. It didn't bother me so much, because I knew how jealous Steve was of me and how much time Soda spent with me and how he always wanted to bring me along. More so now that Steve was going on dates while Soda didn't have a girl.
The way the light was shining on my brother, it made me love him even more. I'm not sure why, but it made me realize how much he meant to me, and that even though he had a full time job and he was my protector and he was taller than I was, he was still a kid, and he was an orphan too. Just because he made the best out of a situation and didn't complain at all didn't mean he didn't have the right to be pitied.
Leaning over, I picked up the sketch book that was sitting on top of my desk and I brought it out along with some pencils. It was what I'd gotten for my last birthday and I was putting it to good use. I looked through some of the pictures I'd done. The first was a sketch of our family portrait. The last one we'd had done before Mom and Dad died. Darry had still been in high school when it was taken.
The second was of Dally. I'd loved to draw Dally, but looking back on these pictures, it had been a rough sketch of him. It made him look mean, and I realized now that he wasn't mean. He was misunderstood- he was an outsider trying to use his ability to stand out to fit in. He tried to push everyone away before they rejected him or deserted him. And the only person he ever had let past his guard had done just that. He'd left him. I always found it sad how much Johnny envied Dally and wanted to be just like him when Dally had only ever wanted Johnny to stay the way he was; it was what Dally liked about him. They'd both died doing something the other disapproved of. Johnny went to save those little kids and risked his own life while Dally had gone down fighting. If you could call it that. It was what Dally would like us to think though.
I'd been unable to draw either Johnny or Dally since they'd died. It just hurt too much. I feared that if I tried, I'd realize I'd forgotten the curve of Johnny's cheek, or the reckless way Dally looked when he drove. It scared me to think that within a few years the only way I'd remember them was by looking at pictures of them, and Dally hated taking pictures. I'd only two pictures of Johnny of one of Dally, and neither was really clear.
I flipped to the next picture and recognized the eyes of Johnny Cade. They were his best feature, I'd always thought. Even after those Socs had beaten him, they were the most expressive things about him. Even a stranger would be able to look at him and see through the guarded mask he wore to see a little piece of his soul. His eyes looked a little haunted at times, but in others, they could be hopeful or happy or laughing. They could be blazing. Even at his best, his eyes gave away the torture he'd gone through. That he just couldn't forget what had happened to him. It was his eyes that made him look like a kicked puppy.
I had to switch the page quickly. I'd put a lot of thought into Johnny since he'd died. All the ways we could have helped him but neglected to. How unhappy he'd been. We were his friends, we were the ones who were supposed to do something, but we hadn't.
I flipped through the pages until I came to a blank one and then picked up the pencils and started drawing Soda. I'd always wanted to catch him when he was asleep. I could capture his spirit when he was awake, but I could capture his essence when he was asleep. The way his eyelashes lay across his cheeks lightly and the slightly ruffled un-greased quality of his hair. It wasn't that he didn't look tuff when he was asleep; it was just that he wasn't trying and what he held on his face was the honest to God truth, not just an act.
His hand was stretched out as though looking for me and I understood something about Soda just then. He loved me as much as I loved him. I'd always known that I loved Soda more than would be considered normal for someone to love their brother. Very few people even got along with their brothers, let alone had a relationship as great as the one we shared. Even two years apart we still had this amazing connection. I'd always known I loved Soda more than I even loved my parents and that it would be over for me if I ever lost him, but it had never occurred to me that Soda might have felt the same way about me. He asked me to go places with him and had even been the one to volunteer to sleep in my room with me. That wasn't something you'd expect from a tough greaser but Soda never even put an ounce of thought into his reputation. He looked out for me like a parent would. Even though he didn't really get all my feelings and didn't share my interests he never looked down on any of them. He always tried his best to understand how I felt and why I liked something, even if he knew he wouldn't get it.
When Mom and Dad died, we'd managed to become closer instead of distant like Darry and me did. I don't think it ever really hit me that Darry didn't really need to give up everything to take care of me. Maybe I blamed mom and dad dying on him a little bit. Maybe it was because he had to take over their job; the hard part, not just being there for me and making sure I felt loved bit like Soda did. I was glad that I realized that because it made it easier to understand why Darry treated me like he did.
But that still didn't justify why he didn't treat Soda like he did me. I mean, I know that Soda is now 17 and all but that didn't give Darry any excuse to like him better. To give him more credit and respect.
I sat there thinking for a few seconds, looking at the finished drawing of Soda and being satisfied with it. I got out of bed and took my sketchpad and pencil with me. Walking down the hallway I started getting nervous. Soda waking up and finding me drawing him would be no big deal. But Darry was weird about stuff like this. He'd probably yell at me if he woke up.
I paused outside his door but figured if he loved me as much as Soda kept insisting he did, he'd forgive me. That was, if he even woke up.
Darry was a light sleeper. I expected my nightmares woke him up before they ever even did Soda. His door creaked but I managed to open it without waking him up. I dunno how I managed to avoid tripping or stumbling since I was still pretty clumsy. I sat down on the floor next to his bed and pulled my legs under me. Darry was the only person I'd ever seen who looked more worried and old when he was asleep then when he was awake. I thought about the way that sleep affected Soda and wondered if it was the same with Darry. Was this how he really was? Was he hiding how distressed and troubled he was from us during the day?
He looked like his jaw was clenched tightly and his eyebrows were furrowed as though he were having a bad dream. I almost got the urge to wake him up to make sure he was okay but I realized how bad that could turn out if he weren't having a nightmare and I'd woken him up when he had to go to work the next day.
I drew for a while, trying to get the angular shape of his eyebrows without overdoing it and making him look fake. I kept erasing the lines around his forehead that I couldn't seem to get down. Every time I tried to put them down they seemed too pronounced and made him look too old. He looked so much older than 20 that I found it easy to forget that fact and almost thought he was 30 sometimes.
The way he slept reminded me of the way that Johnny slept; tense, as if he expected to have to wake up real quick. Of course Johnny woke up to find his dad beating on him so I could understand why he would but Darry shouldn't sleep that way. I tried to portray the tense anxiousness that was prominent due to my worry that he might wake up and get mad at me but it wasn't easy. Hell, it was all in my head, how was I supposed to put that onto paper? His muscles were flexed like he'd need them and I was having enough problems making it seem like he was actually asleep instead of just having his eyes closed.
In fact, if I hadn't known better I'd say he was awake. Of course, the second I thought that, he opened his eyes and turned over to look at me.
I froze like a jackrabbit being approached. I watched him intensely, swallowing stiffly in fear. I dunno why I was scared; I guess it was just the culmination of the tenseness that had come over me. I took a fleeting look at the picture I'd drawn and figured I'd have to finish it from memory.
He took a few seconds to get his bearings and then he cleared his throat and raised his head so he was looking right at me. "What" His voice was so hoarse I thought maybe he was sick and he stopped to cough and clear it some more before continuing. "What's going on?" He asked me.
I wasn't sure how to respond to that. It was the first time I'd been in a situation like this and I didn't know whether I'd rather play innocent or risk putting my cards on the table right away. "Umm… sorry." I gave him when he looked a bit impatient for my answer.
"What're you doing in my room?" he asked a bit rudely and I blushed some more.
"I couldn't sleep… I'll just get out, don't worry about it." I told him, getting to my feet quickly.
"Pony, come here." Darry called for me and I cringed, knowing he was going to make this difficult for me. I turned around and he sat up and looked at me expectantly.
"Dar, really, you can just go back to bed, you've got work in the morning and you can yell at me during breakfast tomorrow." I told him hoping to escape to my room and hopefully find sleep under Soda's arm finally.
"I wasn't planning on punishing you. Unless you did something you ain't telling me about." He looked at me real intently but I shook my head and came forward knowing there was nothing else I could do to prevent this.
"Here, get in." he told me. He was like Soda and me in that he couldn't sleep if he wasn't on his side of the bed and luckily, his and Soda's was the same. I had to climb over his legs so I could get in. He didn't seem to mind, but I'd never even sat on Darry's bed since it had become his and it made me a bit tense. I'd dropped my sketchbook on the floor before hand.
"Now what's wrong that's got you not able to sleep?" he asked me and I could see he was watching me close just hoping I'd lie so he could call me on it.
"I just, kinda, woke up from one of those nightmares and I got too much on my mind to get back to sleep I guess." I told him shrugging to make it seem like less of a big deal. I think he cared more about those nightmares than I did sometimes. I'd rather have just ignored it and moved on but Darry kept dwelling on it like it was the end of the world.
He looked at me in real fear and concern but I waved him off. "Why couldn't you get back to sleep? What's on your mind?" He sounded almost like he really cared and I almost believed he did for a second.
"Ya know, just the normal stuff. School, track, and homework." I only told him that because I knew it was the only thing he was really concerned about and I wanted him to think I cared about that stuff too when really it didn't matter too much to me.
"Don't lie to me Pony, you ain't no good at it." Darry told me real slickly. "What's really got you worried?" he probably thought real highly of himself for knowing that I didn't give a damn about what I'd said.
"Well I think my girlfriend's pregnant and my drug money's run out." I said, growing weary of the conversation. He cuffed me lightly.
"You get mouthier every day I see you. Tell me the truth before I wake up Soda and get him to get it out of you." Darry told me and I grinned a bit because I knew Soda would've been able to.
"It's nothing important, Dar. Nothing you should care about anyway. I'm just missing the gang is all. You know, the way it used to be." I said that and figured he'd know what I meant.
"You ain't alone, Pony, everyone's missing them."
"I know that, that's why I didn't want to tell you." I told him, getting fed up. I knew he didn't want to have to have this conversation with me as much as I didn't but he was trying all that parenting crap on me like he thought if he asked me to open up to him we'd have a heart to heart and everything would be peachy again.
"You don't have to not tell me things because you think it'll upset me. I wanna know what's going on with you, Pone." He put on this face like he was sorry about something but I didn't want to look at him anymore so I just turned away.
"How come you like Soda so much better than you like me?" I asked before I could talk myself out of it. I regretted it because I knew the answer he'd give me anyway and it wasn't worth hearing it again.
"I don't like him any better than I like you. He's just older than you are and he's able to have more privileges." Darry said. Even though it was probably 3 O'clock in the morning I felt like I needed a smoke.
"It ain't even that, Dar. I don't mean you favor him, I mean, like, as a person you like him more than me, the same as everyone."
"I dunno why everyone likes Soda, Ponyboy. It's just his personality I guess. He's an awesome kid, but then so are you. But it's different with Soda. I ain't gotta do nothing for him. He's already almost grown up, where-as you still need a parent. I don't want this position but someone's gotta do it. You don't think I wish I could go back to being your big brother? You bet I'd choose it in a second. I hate being the bad guy all the time."
"You don't have to be my parent. I don't want you to be, Dar." I told him, feeling spiteful.
"See, this is what I mean. Of course you don't want me to be, Pony, but do you think you'd do your homework or be in before midnight or be responsible if you didn't have someone breathing down your neck to be? I know you wish it wasn't me that was doing it, but you don't have anyone else, and if that means you lose your big brother because he's busy playing parent then I'm willing to make that sacrifice." Darry said this so matter-of-factly that it got me upset. I just couldn't object to what he was saying because I knew it made sense.
"Pony, one day it'll go back to normal. Once you've grown up some we can buddies again. I miss not having to yell at you and I miss you liking me." He told me and I finally started looking at him again.
"I do like you Darry." I told him because I wasn't sure he knew.
"I know you do. I like you too even if I don't always show it. And I appreciate everything you try to do to help me out. You don't gotta feel useless around the house, I know you're trying your best." I raised my eyebrows at him because I hadn't been aware that Darry could read minds.
"Hey Darry, you seen- oh, there you are, Pony. You had me scared when I woke up and couldn't find you." Soda came in rubbing his eyes looking tired.
"Soda, get back to bed. You've got work in the morning too." Darry said but Soda only kept coming closer.
"Budge over there Pony." He told me, and though slightly surprised, I complied without protest. Soda lay down besides me and I was slightly sandwiched between my two brothers.
"Hey now, little buddy…" Darry spoke slightly seriously but I knew he didn't really care that much. "This bed ain't really that big now." He scowled as Soda stole a pillow out from under his head.
"Well I'm comfortable. What about you Pony? You all right?" he was smiling and having a good time it seemed, and I wasn't sure why knowing it was a work night and all.
I nodded and Darry sighed slightly. I stole another pillow, since it didn't seem we would be going anywhere tonight. Darry sure liked his pillows.
"Well how am I supposed to get to sleep with only one pillow now?" Darry asked feigning seriousness. I put mine down on top of his so he could share mine and I lay close to him. Soda was great and all but sometimes it felt good to be next to someone so solid, firm and… permanent. Having my two brothers next to me made me feel secure no one else I loved would be taken from me, and I knew absolutely nothing could happen to me as I lay squashed between them.
It reminded me of the times when I would lay between Mom and Dad at night when I was a little kid and I'd not be able to sleep. Darry was about as big as Dad was back then. He almost even sort of even smelled the same way, having a musk of construction as well as soap and shaving cream, and I could nearly pretend that he was there with me right then. It was a feeling of great security, but at the same time a terrible awful sadness.
Those nights, I would be able to lay against Dad's bicep and feel wellbeing come over me in spite of its hard, unyielding feeling under my head, and I could feel that sensation return to me as I lay with Darry. For the first time I really ached to have my father back again. I'd felt a longing for my mother so many times and yet I supposed I blamed Darry for fighting away feelings of loss for my father, him taking on his role in most senses. His protectiveness as well as sternness and control was so reminiscent of Dad it fought away the need for him. But I needed Darry just as much as I needed my dad, for his parental role as well as his comfort. For the moment I could make due with just my brothers though.
I felt Darry's large hand on my back as I put my head down against his shoulder because I may have been shaking slightly and I felt Soda wrap an arm around me as well. I hated to let the memories of my parents wash over me in spite of the warmness they provoked. I wasn't ready yet to attempt to make peace with it, and I knew I'd end up breaking down if I thought too long about them. That familiar scent sweeping over me felt so natural it made me sick to know that it no longer was. This was Darry and Soda laying next to me in mom and dad's bed and that was the way it would be from now on… no more mom and dad, just me and my brothers. No more Johnny and Dally either, just Two-bit, Steve and my brothers left of the old gang. And me, who somehow wasn't even the same at all.
But I think… I'm not sure, but I think… that this will do okay. That it will be all right with just us three. Us five. Even if I couldn't remember their faces forever, I'd always have the memories of everyone I'd lost, and that would be just as good.