I'm just trying this idea out. What was Pony, Darry, and Soda like before they were Greasers, or even before their parents died. Tell me if you like, and if you have any suggestions! ~Sky Tales
Chapter One: Before
Ages: Daryl - 8
Sodapop - 3
"Is he here yet?" A small boy asked, leaning in the garage door, talking to his father, who was working under the hood of a slate colored ford. He was tall and a little pudgy, as most eight-year-olds are, and had dark hair and grey eyes.
"No Daryl." The man laughed. A smaller boy with strawberry-blondish hair bolted across the room. "Whoa! Watch your brother!"
"Soda!" The eight year old grabbed the toddlers shoulders, guiding him back to the doorway. The younger boy giggled happily, picking up a bolt and toddling away. "Wait! Come back here."
The man in under the car, Daryl Curtis, smiled to himself. His namesake was always bossing his brother, unrealized he does it. He wiped a spill of oil off his face, then reached for a wrench.
"Dad?" Daryl's voice called again.
"Yes Darry?"
"When will Mom and Aunt Joya get here?" He was standing over beside the car now,
"Soon." The man answered. "Why aren't you inside watching that video you insisted you needed to watch?"
The boy thought at moment.
"I'm too excited. When is the new baby gonna get here?" He paused again. "When is the new baby gonna have a name?"
"Yeah?" Soda added, grabbing the wrench that was just out of his father's reach.
"When I think of one." His father added. "Pepsi-Cola, give me that wrench." The boy shrugged and tossed down the metal tool. "Thank you." In response the toddler started to wonder toward the door.
"Darry, Momma home." Soda said, walking out of the garage. Darry chased after him.
A red mini-van pulled up the drive, and stopped. Darry ran up the passenger side door, pulling it open and throwing himself on the woman with in. She smiled, happy to see her son.
"Hello Daryl." She grinned. "Missed me?"
"Yea!" He said, still pressed to her, then suddenly pulling up. "Where the baby?" The woman pointed to the back seat. There was a car-seat in it, pointed backward, a pale blue blanket over it.
"Shh. He's sleeping." His Mom said as Soda struggled to pull himself into the vehicle. The father walked over, helping his wife out and picking up his now second youngest son. Soda reached out for his mother, who happily took him into her arms.
"Have you decided on a name yet?" Christine asked, rubbing little Daryl's head and Aunt Joya, Daryl's sister, joined the group.
"No boy no more?" Soda asked, puzzled.
"Boy is not his name, dear boy." Aunt Joya exclaimed. Soda clung to his mother, for his aunt always scared him because she was loud, blunt, and mostly mean.
"Don't shout, Joya." Daryl said, pulling open the back door and carefully taking the tiny infant from it's seat. "Hello there, baby boy." He cradled the baby in his arms, watching him with joyful eyes. "You finally get to see your home."
"I'm so glad." Christine smiled, wearily. The infant had been born almost two months early, and was in the hospital for nearly three months.
"Let me see." Darry exclaimed, reaching, then pulling back. "Please."
"Of course you can see your new brother." His father smiled. "But can we get inside first? If you sit down you can hold him all by yourself, if you promise to be careful."
"I will." Darry replied, as serious as eight-year-olds get.
"I see?" Soda asked his mother.
"Yes honey." They group entered the house, a two floored cottage with white shingles and blue trim. It was clean, but a little disorganized from a weekend with just one man and two little boys. There was several packages on the table, most wrapped in baby blue with bright ribbons and such. A banner was across the kitchen table declaring welcome to the new arrival.
Christine looked at her husband, and saw him have a sly grin.
"You have a name for the baby." She said, confidently.
"You wait." He smiled. He sat Darry down in the recliner, making sure he was sitting all the way back, his back resting firmly on the chair. Darry's grey eyes were bright, he was excited.
Slowly the man set the baby in the boy's arm, carful to gave support to it's head and little neck.
"What's his name, Dad?" Darry asked, in a somewhat awe.
"Ponyboy."
Chapter One: Before
Ages: Daryl - 8
Sodapop - 3
"Is he here yet?" A small boy asked, leaning in the garage door, talking to his father, who was working under the hood of a slate colored ford. He was tall and a little pudgy, as most eight-year-olds are, and had dark hair and grey eyes.
"No Daryl." The man laughed. A smaller boy with strawberry-blondish hair bolted across the room. "Whoa! Watch your brother!"
"Soda!" The eight year old grabbed the toddlers shoulders, guiding him back to the doorway. The younger boy giggled happily, picking up a bolt and toddling away. "Wait! Come back here."
The man in under the car, Daryl Curtis, smiled to himself. His namesake was always bossing his brother, unrealized he does it. He wiped a spill of oil off his face, then reached for a wrench.
"Dad?" Daryl's voice called again.
"Yes Darry?"
"When will Mom and Aunt Joya get here?" He was standing over beside the car now,
"Soon." The man answered. "Why aren't you inside watching that video you insisted you needed to watch?"
The boy thought at moment.
"I'm too excited. When is the new baby gonna get here?" He paused again. "When is the new baby gonna have a name?"
"Yeah?" Soda added, grabbing the wrench that was just out of his father's reach.
"When I think of one." His father added. "Pepsi-Cola, give me that wrench." The boy shrugged and tossed down the metal tool. "Thank you." In response the toddler started to wonder toward the door.
"Darry, Momma home." Soda said, walking out of the garage. Darry chased after him.
A red mini-van pulled up the drive, and stopped. Darry ran up the passenger side door, pulling it open and throwing himself on the woman with in. She smiled, happy to see her son.
"Hello Daryl." She grinned. "Missed me?"
"Yea!" He said, still pressed to her, then suddenly pulling up. "Where the baby?" The woman pointed to the back seat. There was a car-seat in it, pointed backward, a pale blue blanket over it.
"Shh. He's sleeping." His Mom said as Soda struggled to pull himself into the vehicle. The father walked over, helping his wife out and picking up his now second youngest son. Soda reached out for his mother, who happily took him into her arms.
"Have you decided on a name yet?" Christine asked, rubbing little Daryl's head and Aunt Joya, Daryl's sister, joined the group.
"No boy no more?" Soda asked, puzzled.
"Boy is not his name, dear boy." Aunt Joya exclaimed. Soda clung to his mother, for his aunt always scared him because she was loud, blunt, and mostly mean.
"Don't shout, Joya." Daryl said, pulling open the back door and carefully taking the tiny infant from it's seat. "Hello there, baby boy." He cradled the baby in his arms, watching him with joyful eyes. "You finally get to see your home."
"I'm so glad." Christine smiled, wearily. The infant had been born almost two months early, and was in the hospital for nearly three months.
"Let me see." Darry exclaimed, reaching, then pulling back. "Please."
"Of course you can see your new brother." His father smiled. "But can we get inside first? If you sit down you can hold him all by yourself, if you promise to be careful."
"I will." Darry replied, as serious as eight-year-olds get.
"I see?" Soda asked his mother.
"Yes honey." They group entered the house, a two floored cottage with white shingles and blue trim. It was clean, but a little disorganized from a weekend with just one man and two little boys. There was several packages on the table, most wrapped in baby blue with bright ribbons and such. A banner was across the kitchen table declaring welcome to the new arrival.
Christine looked at her husband, and saw him have a sly grin.
"You have a name for the baby." She said, confidently.
"You wait." He smiled. He sat Darry down in the recliner, making sure he was sitting all the way back, his back resting firmly on the chair. Darry's grey eyes were bright, he was excited.
Slowly the man set the baby in the boy's arm, carful to gave support to it's head and little neck.
"What's his name, Dad?" Darry asked, in a somewhat awe.
"Ponyboy."