Sodapop's Day at School

: I don't own anything but the socks on my feet

"…but Mom, I don't want to go to school," Sodapop Curtis whined to his mother one morning as she rushed her sons about, hoping that they wouldn't be late.

"Now son, you don't see your brothers fussing, do you?" Soda's father stated the fact.

"I hate school," Soda complained.

"You might have fun today," Mrs. Curtis tried to encourage her son.

"No I won't," Sodapop insisted.

Darrel Curtis Senior was starting to loose his patients with his middle son. He had three boys, and while Ponyboy was anything but a morning person, Sodapop was the only one that ever put up a fight each day about what was such a luxury when he was in school.

"Now listen Sodapop Patrick Curtis," Mr. Curtis tried to say in a gentle but firm voice, "we're leaving for school in five minutes. I suggest that you be ready.

Soda never made very good grades in school, but he had enough sense to know that when his father used his full name that he meant business, or else. The Curtis family left for school that morning with just a few moments to spare.

At school, the three Curtis brothers walked together down the hall as they did every day. First, they escorted their baby brother, Ponyboy, to his first grade classroom. Ponyboy liked his teacher very much, but Soda hadn't. She just couldn't seem to understand that he wasn't Darry.

The Two brothers turned the corner to the third grade hall. Darry stopped and waited for Sodapop to enter his classroom and sit down at his desk before walking on to his own sixth grade classroom.

This had become their daily routine. Darrel Curtis Junior had become quite accustomed to walking Sodapop to his classroom just to make sure he went. He had been doing his for a few years now, and now that Ponyboy had started school, Darry had to make sure he didn't get lost due to that absent mindedness of his.

Darry walked into his classroom where he noticed that the students were lining up.

"Boys and girls please line up when you come into the room. Do not sit at your desks. We're going to go work with the third graders on how to write a card for their teacher. She's retiring soon."

Darry lined up with the rest of his classmates, and when the rest of the students arrived, they left the room. Darry wondered which classroom they were going to. Would it be Soda's? Sure enough that was the door that his teacher opened. Darry heard his younger brother's teacher speaking.

"Boys and Girls please settle down so we can hear what I have to say," she was saying. "We're going to be working on our writing skills by writing a retirement card for Mrs. Blackbird."

"Is it because she's so old," Darry heard Sodapop ask.

"She's not old, she's ancient," Darry heard Soda's best buddy, Steve, answer in reply.

"Some of our fifth grade students are here to help us," the teacher continued ignoring the two boys. "I've written on the board some choices you can include in your card, but all of them should start like this."

Darry looked at the board. "Old people like you…" he read.

"You will all be working in partners," the teacher continued. "Each third grade student will b partnered with a fifth grader."

"This can't be good," Darry thought. He continued to read from the choices written on the board.

"I got a great idea what to write," Soda interrupted his thoughts. Darry was about to ask what it was when his teacher told him he was wanted at the office.

"Wow!" Soda shouted gleefully. "Mom and Dad are going to be so happy it's not me for once!"

Darry wasn't sure why he had been called to the office, but he quickly got up leaving Sodapop to write his card alone.

Soda decided that he was going to make his big brother very proud of him. He was going to write the best retirement card ever. He stared at the board a long time before finally deciding what he should write.

By the time Darry returned, Soda had finished his card, and the students were starting to share what they had written to Mrs. Blackbird.

"Sodapop, won't you share with us what you wrote," his teacher requested.

"Wait till you here this," Soda told Darry. He couldn't contain his happiness. His mom had been right, Sodapop decided he would have fun today. Soda walked to the front of the classroom as all the other kids had done before him to read.

"Old people like you…" he began, "get fat. They get really fat. Ha! You're so fat. Fatty fatty two by four, you can't fit through the bathroom door; so she did it on the floor whipped it up and did some more…"

All the kids were laughing hysterically.

"Sodapop Curtis!" his teacher exclaimed. "How did you learn such an awful thing?"

"From my older brother, Darry," Soda answered proudly. "He's sitting right there." Soda pointed to Darry who wished he could crawl into a black hole some where.

All the students in the room were still laughing as the brothers were told to go to the principal's office. Sodapop followed Darry out the door.

"Isn't this funny, this is the second time you've gone to the office today, "Soda said as they stepped inside the office.

"No," said Darry. "I wasn't in trouble the other time."

"We'll see how funny it is when you're father gets here," the principal said as he walked into the room caring a wooden board.

The door to the office opened once more, and in walked their father, Darrel Curtis Senior. Lagging behind him was a very upset Ponyboy.

Ponyboy's face and ears were red, he sounded stopped up with sniffles, and he could barley pay enough attention to what was going on around him.

Mr. Curtis's face, however, was full of concern and anger.

"Put the board away," his deep voice boomed. "This is a family matter, and it shall be dealt with at home."

"Should I assume that you will be taking all three of your boys home?" the principal asked him.

"Yes," came the reply. He put a sickly Ponyboy on his shoulders and motioned for his other sons to follow his out to the truck.

"I'm very disappointed in you Darry," his father scolded. "How could you teach your brother something so awful?"

Sodapop jumped in before Darry could even say anything. "He didn't teach me that. I heard him with Paul yesterday. Paul taught Darry. Can you believe it? Someone actually had to teach Darry something?"

Mr. Curtis smiled as he listened to his middle son yammer on and on. He tried not to laugh. Sodapop was going to be just like him when he grew up, only better looking.