Letters from War
AN: This is my first story to put on . Please don't slaughter me in your reviews. I do like constructive criticism. *Disclaimer* I do not, nor will I ever, own The Outsiders or the song Letters from War by Mark Schultz. I did alter the lyrics some to fit this storyline a little better. If you have never heard the song, you ought to look it up, I highly recommend it. The words in bold italics are the song lyrics. The rest is in a narrator point of view.
He walked to the mailbox on that bright summer's day. He found a letter from his bro in a war far away.
Pony trudged out to the mailbox. He had lost all hope of ever getting a letter from Sodapop long ago. He had already been over in Vietnam fighting for over three months now. He reached in the mailbox hesitantly, as if any possibility of a letter being in there would be shattered if he rushed to get the mail. There were several envelopes in the box. Bills, bills, and more bills; but wait! There, in between two large envelopes containing things that only add stress to his and Darry's lives were two small yellow-white envelopes with small, scraggly handwriting on them. SODA!
A single rubber band held together the two letters together. "Just like our family" Pony said out loud in a bitter, empty tone. Taking his time to walk up the stairs into the house, he had to hold back the waterfall of tears that was burning at the backs of his eyes. Carefully, so as not to tear the envelopes fragile contents, he opened the letter addressed to him.
Dear, Ponyboy: Me and Steve sure miss you guys an awful lot. A lot of the guys in our unit are real tuff. You would probably like Billy. He's from Oklahoma City. He reads about as much as you do. I'm glad you don't have to be here like I do, Pony. It's awful hot and they make us get haircuts every other week! He spoke of the weather, and good friends that he'd made. He said "I've been thinking about dad and the life that he had. That's why I'm here today." Then at the end he said "you are what I'm fighting for. Take care of yourself and Darry and, of course, Two-Bit. I love you. Love, your brother, Sodapop Curtis. It was the first of the letters from war.
Ponyboy let himself begin to cry. He reread the letter over and over until he was assured that Soda was the one who had actually written it. His brother, his best friend, had taken the time in the middle of that war to write him! Soda had been the only one who was able to help Pony settle down and come to term with his parents', and later, Johnny's and Dally's deaths. Pony had been inconsolable for weeks. Why was it that all these bad things kept happening to him, his family, and what used to be the gang?
He went and got a clean, fresh piece of lined paper and began writing:
"Dear Sodapop, I love you."
He started writing "You're good and you're brave; what a father that you'll be some day. Make it home, make it safe." Please, please make it home safe. We miss you and Steve something awful. Love, Ponyboy Curtis.
He took Darry's letter and placed it, along with all the bills, on the kitchen table. Then, as he so often did now that school was out and he was on summer break, he went to his and Soda's bedroom. He could still smell Soda's favorite cologne on all of his clothes. He grabbed Soda's shirt that had been his security blanket for the last couple of days, and laid on the bed, remembering. He allowed his memory to transport him back to the day Soda and Steve had been whisked away to Vietnam.
Weeks turned into months. Pony made sure to write Soda a letter every day. Obviously, he couldn't afford to send them, so he kept them in a box in the top of his and Soda's closet. No one else, except Soda, would ever read those letters. It had now been seven months lf letters to and from Soda. Pony was now fifteen and a sophomore in high school.
It was December 27, 1971, the worst day of his young life. It had been about five weeks since they had heard from Soda. Darry, Pony, and Two-Bit were all beginning to get understandably antsy. As he had grown accustomed to, Pony checked the mailbox every day. But today was different. He had a feeling that something was terribly wrong with Soda.
Despite his fear, he checked the mail, just in case Soda had sent a letter. What he saw though, was worse than anything he had imagined. There was a small envelope in the mailbox, just like the ones that Soda had sent, but something was different about this one. The address was not in Soda's small handwriting. In fact, the handwriting was large and obviously written by a strong, steady hand from a quiet location. When he realized that both his and Darry's names were on it, he called Darry. Darry picked Two-Bit up on his way home and all three of them were sitting on the couch in the living room, debating on whether or not to open the letter.
Of course they opened it. And late in December, a day he'll not forget. Oh, their tears stained the paper with every word Darry read. Darry was the one who opened it and read out loud: Dear Mr. Darryl and Mr. Ponyboy Curtis, I am sorry to inform you of the series of tragic events that has brought me to write you this letter. I was up on a hill, I was out there alone when the gunshots rang out and bombs were exploding. That's when I saw him; he came back for me and though he was captured a man set me free. That man was your bro. He asked me to write to you. I told him I would, oh I swore. Now that you know what happened please, keep all of us troops here in your prayers. Please tell my mother, Rebecca Holden that I am alright and will be home as soon as they let me fly with my injuries. This military hospital is taking good care of me. And Darry, please forgive me for being a jerk and ditching you after we got out of high school. Pony, Soda said that you and Darry need to keep living and giving us a reason to fight here. He promises to be home by the time Pony graduates, he swore on it. I'm sorry I had to write you about such terrible circumstances. Thank you for letting Steve and Soda be here, otherwise, I'm certain I'd be a goner. They saved my life. Please forgive me. Sincerely, Paul Holden.
It was the last of the letters from war. They prayed he was living and kept on believing and wrote every night just the same. 'You are good and you're brave. What a father that you'll be someday. Make it home, make it safe.' And so they kept writing each day.
Two long years went by, and Pony had lost almost all faith of Soda or Steve ever coming home. It was Thanksgiving break and Pony was enjoying the time to himself. He had filled out several college applications, and was just putting them in the mail. Since he had the highest grade point average of his class, he was sure to get into at least one of the colleges he wanted. As he placed the manila envelopes in the mailbox when he saw a black car turn the corner onto his street. Two grim looking soldiers sat in the front seat.
And then two years later, autumn leaves all around, a car pulled in the driveway and he fell to his knees. And out stepped two captains, where his friends used to stand. They sand Pone, we're following orders from all of your letters and we've come home again. Soda! Steve! Pony lunged at the two older boys, tears streaming down all of their faces. Yes, even Steve "The Tough Guy" Randle was crying at the sight of the kid he had once thought of as a pest.
They went inside and stayed there, crying and hugging, until Darry and Two-Bit got off of work and found them at home, watching T.V., as if Steve and Soda had never left. The next was the best Thanksgiving ever. They ran into hold him, dropped all their bags on the floor. And gave them all the letters from war. When they all settled down finally, Steve and Soda showed the boys the contents of one of their duffle bags- all of the letters they had written home while in the prison camp in North Vietnam.
WELL, that's it. My first story. I hope everyone likes it. Please, please, please review. I'm new at this stuff and I would like to know how I did. Thanks! –HawkNelsonFanGirl
