"But one foot wrong and I'm gonna fall
Somebody gets it, somebody gets it
But one foot wrong and I'm gonna fall
Somebody gets it, somebody gets it
All the lights are on but I'm in the dark
Who's gonna find me? Who's gonna find me?
Just one foot wrong
You'll have to love me when I'm gone"
-P!nk 'One Foot Wrong'
If the job did not kill him first, then Darry swore the sun would. He had worked for hours on the same roof, and the dry summer heat was trying to suffocate him. His shift however would be over in about half an hour, so he rushed to get his share done, or else his boss would decide to hold him over past his time to leave. If there was anything, he was sure one minute past the hour would drive him insane. Maybe it was the heat, but murdering the boss sounded quite lovely at the time. Darry thought to himself several scattered thoughts as he mechanically continued to nail whatever they handed to him down.
At three points in the day, he got his hand with his hammer, and once he used the hammer backwards. Today was just not his day. With a heavy sigh he wiped his brow tiredly. His hand reached down to find he had run out of nails. There was another box about five feet away to his right. Darry stood up, not too fast yet seemingly fast enough to pull his vision away. His balance slipped out from under him and he stumbled back.
"Hey, man, are you okay?" Someone called out. Darry's vision and composure came back around but he was teetering on the edge of the roof. His boot lost grip and he spiraled over the edge, his other shoe being caught by the gutter. This made him slam into the house before continuing down to the ground.
No, he was not okay.
He landed flat on his back, but not after receiving a nasty blow to the head. He laid at an awkward angle perfectly still. Stunned, he could not move. There was a quiet commotion around him as other workers came to see if he was alright. He stared blankly up toward the sky, barely aware of the people crowding around him.
"Is he dead?" A man to his right asked as someone crouched down.
"Nah, he's breathing," Darry blinked and started to regain full-consciousness. There was a dull pounding in his head with black spots swimming in his vision
As for pain, there was the fact his back felt like a steam roller ran him over. He shuffled slightly, hissing in pain, but thankfully finding he had to broken bones. There was a shout from behind the group of people. Darry tried to get up to see who it was. The voice sounded too familiar but for some reason he could not place it.
"What's all this ruckus about! Back to work! I'm not paying you all to gawk. Now what in Sam hell happened?" A short pudgy man was shouting. The crowd parted for him like the Red Sea. Darry looked in his direction feeling an odd sense like he should recognise him.
"Is that Darrel?" The man walked forward, gazing down at him, "Did you fall? Are you hurt?"
Did he want answers? Darry nodded, feeling a burst of white searing agony in his head. The muscles on the back of his head and his neck were tight. It did not take long before the pudgy man declared that he should go home. Hallelujah… One of the remaining men helped Darry to his feet, even walking him to his truck. It did not seem right for him to drive himself home but he was not too far away from the house.
He drove slowly. The passing cars would occasionally turn into two or four cars, even if there was only one. He was about a block away from the house when a tremor shook his body, making him almost lose control of his truck. He veered off the road. The brakes slammed down the floor, and he laid against the steering wheel in pure panic. His heart pounded a fast tatoo in his head, making the headache even worse. He shut his eyes, hoping to calm down. All he accomplished was to make everything go black.
He opened his eyes again, deciding to walk the rest of the way. With every step, he swayed a little. From a distance, it surely looked like he was a drunk man stumbling home. He walked at a brisk pace until he reached his door. Soda came up to say hello, but he walked straight pass. His head hurt too bad to talk. He continued walking until he was in his bedroom.
In the room he had just passed, a very confused Soda looked over at Pony.
"Bad day?" Pony suggested. Soda silently agreed. It wasn't two seconds before a loud thump echoed from Darry's room.
Both Soda and Pony were up and running to see what had happened. Soda rushed into the room, finding his brother unconscious a yard from the door. He was sprawled out on his back. Soda swooped down by him before whipping around to face Pony, "Call an ambulance!"
Pony dashed off. At this point, Two-Bit had come to see what was happening. He was in the kitchen when Darry collapsed. His eyes scanned over the scene. He saw how Darry appeared and declared, "I'm not sure he's going to be okay."
Soda was silent, then anger swept over him, "Don't say that! Don't ever say that! This is no time for any kind of... Of... Cruel joke!"
"Kid, I'm being ser-"
"And I don't want to hear it!" He shouted. Pony ran back to the doorway.
"They are on their way... Is he okay?" Pony asked, scared to come any closer. Soda blinked and took a moment to examine him in detail. No, it did not look good. Not at all. He'd never seen his brother so pale, let alone be unconscious on the floor. Soda placed his hand over his brother's chest and felt for movement. It was slight, and shallow, but present. Breathing was a good sign. Next, he laid he ear over his chest. Heartbeat near non-existent, fluttering, and weak. Still present, so once again that was a semi-good sign.
Pony rocked on his heels. Two-Bit left to watch the door for the ambulance. Finally, the sound of a siren could be heard from outside. A pair of paramedics came in, checking him over before putting him on a stretcher. They wheeled him into the ambulance.
"Pony, ride with him, I'll get the car and drive it there," Soda commanded.
Pony obeyed. He jumped into the vehicle before it took off. The house was quiet for a moment. Soda stood there in a state of shock, from fear.
"Go get Steve so he knows what's happening. I'll drive," Two-Bit spoke up from his left. Soda jumped a little. There was a brief silence before he nodded and dashed out the door.
As luck would have it, he saw Steve walking his way at the end of the street. Steve looked at him, watching his friend barrel towards him with the most frightened expression possible.
"Hey, Soda? Wait are you okay? Is something wrong?" Steve asked when Soda stopped in front of him, panting and out of breath. He never was much of a runner. Soda shook his head.
"Darry collapsed. We- we called an ambulance. Come with us to the hospital?"
Steve blinked for a moment. He already knew about the ambulance. That was actually the reason he was heading towards the house. He had heard the sirens from his girlfriend's house and wanted to make sure everything was alright. He knew how tight they were on money, and if they deemed a situation dire enough to call for the hospital, it had to have been bad. Seeing Soda wasn't the one who was in the back of the ambulance was reassuring, but who was sent off was still important.
"Sure man, of course I'll-"
"Two is driving. Come on. We need to get down there!" He cut him off and took off back to the house, not even checking to see if Steve followed.
The three teens packed into the car and they were hurriedly driving towards the hospital. Soda was starting to feel sick. It wasn't at the idea of Darry being in the hospital, but it was that he sent Pony with him. Pony wasn't exactly vulnerable, or weak, but he shouldn't have sent him off alone in his situation. He was probably curled up, by himself, panicking in the corner of the waiting room. Soda had not been thinking when he told him to go with the ambulance. What if the doctor needed information? Pony wouldn't know everything, of course Soda wouldn't either, but he'd be a better source than the scared fifteen-year-old. What if the doctor told Pony bad news? Would he be able to take it without Soda by his side, at the exact moment? He hoped he was worrying over nothing; Darry would be fine, anyway. He had to, he just had to.
To be continued...