The idea for this story came to me last night, Just thought I had to write it. Hope you enjoy. Thinking about maybe continuing it.

"If you look closely in the palm of your hand, you will see your parents and all the generation of your ancestors. All of them alive at this moment. Each one a part of your body, you are a continuation of each of these people." Thich Nhat Hahn.

The young girl stood before him, confusion and fear evident on her face. Though he never saw her before in his life, and didn't know her name, he knew who she was the moment he laid eyes on her.

"I'm sorry to bother you sir," Her light voice, slightly shaking, began. It didn't have a southern accent like everyone else around here. "I uh, my name is Shirley Reynolds." He waited for her to say more but she didn't, than he watched her look at her feet taking a deep breath.

"I know who you are." Darry said, holding the door out for her. Her eyes went wide.

"Come on in, get out of this cold." She nodded, and followed him into the old house. Setting at the table, no one said anything for a while and she finally cleared her throat.

"How do you know who I am?" Darry sighed, and ran a hand threw his hair; it wasn't as thick as it used to be.

"I just do. But the person you're looking for isn't going to be able to talk to you sweetheart." She blinked.

"Why not?"

"Because Sodapop Curtis died in Nam' in 71." Darry started that sentence out strong, but ended it weak. He never got used to having to say that his baby brother wasn't ever going to be around anymore. It still broke his heart in half every time he thought of that goofy smile.

"Oh." She said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She paled a little and then looked me in the eye. "Who are you?"

"My name is Darry Curtis; your daddy was my brother." He thought for a minute and added, "Your uncle." She nodded her head lightly, and he didn't miss how disappointed she was.

"Did he know about me?" She asked, her voice taking on a new strength. Darry looked at his hands folded together on the table.

"He did." He didn't want to into all the details about Sandy and Soda, shoot he wasn't sure he remembered it all anyways.

Shirley didn't know why she even began this journey to find her father. Her grandmother always told her that she had never met him, just knew his name; Sodapop Curtis.

"Or, that's just what your Momma use to tell me." She would say, patting Shirley on the shoulder. Shirley, never got the chance to ask her mother anything about her father though, she had died during her birth.

"I have a picture of em' if you want to see him." She snapped back to reality. She nodded, silent and watched him stand, disappearing threw the kitchen, his boots made a thud every time they hit the hard wood floor. She waited for what seemed like eternity until he returned.

He sat down and held the photo. It was the last one taken of his brother, right before he was shipped off to boot camp. The memories almost made him sick.

And with shaking hands Darry handed the photo to Shirley

She studied it for a long moment. She saw a lot of herself in this photo, this picture of a man who she never met.

"You look just like him Shirley. Which is way I knew who you were when I saw you standing on my step. Soda was one of kind type of guy, and believe me darlin' he loved you."

"He wasn't there." She said, setting the picture on the table in front of her. She wasn't angry, at least that what she kept telling herself. "We needed someone, I did, and no one but my grandmother was there." Darry leaned back; this was the most he had heard her say. He thought a minute on how he should address this. Shirley was a young girl and a lot of kids now-a-days didn't have to go through what he and his brothers did. Things were different now.

"Sandy, your momma, was sent away." Darry stated, looking at the girl carefully, "Soda wanted to marry her, even after she said that the baby, you, weren't his, but she said no." Shirley looked back down at the man in the photo graph and she tried to picture this in her mind.

"Soda was heart- broken and to be honest with you I don't think he ever really got over it." Darry glanced at the young girl before him. She wasn't easy to read. "Soda had sent Sandy letters and each time they came back un-opened. Soda tried to keep in touch, but then he got drafted, and everything changed." Darry felt the familiar pain starting to form in his chest and he took a deep breath, and he wondered if he should call Ponyboy.

"How old was he, when he..." Her sentence trailed off and she looked down, not at the photograph but past it.

"He was 18, looking forward to celebrating his 19th birthday at home in just two damn weeks." Darry looked at her and shook his head. That war had torn his family apart in more ways than one.

"My mother, Sandy died giving birth to me." Shirley said, even though she wasn't sure why she needed him to know. Darry's eyes softened and a sad smile spread across his face.

"That's a shame; she was such a nice girl." He said, again running his hand threw his hair. Shirley noticed that this was a habit he had.

She smiled too, and remembered the photo she had in her purse. Slowly she pulled it out and Darry watched her, unsure of what she was doing. Shirley set the picture down next to the one Darry had brought in. They both sat there starring at two photos. One of a handsome, reckless and carefree boy, the other of a petite longed hair beauty.

And even though it was only figurative, they were right where they belonged, Shirley thought, together.

"While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about." Oprah