Mama's Boy
Summary: What if Darry's father was alive? Would it improve his life, or only make it a living hell?
Idea taken from the song "Mama's Boy" by Cowboy Troy.
Chapter One: Work Hard, Son
Work was hell and I was so glad that I was released early. I got off of the roof and slung my shirt on, leaving it unbuttoned to get a little air. It was hot today and I was sweating like a polar bear in the tropics. That simile really works for me, I mean, I'm as big as a bear. Quickly, I checked the time when I punched out. It was about four p.m.. Ponyboy said he would go to a movie after school. If he got out of school at two fifteen p.m. and the movie, the Paul Newman movie, was about two hours long, he would be out about now. Sighing, I threw my bundle of roofing in the truck bed. I said my goodbyes to the men and got into my old, blue ford. After a little trouble, I got it running and was out on the road. At the first stop light, I buttoned my shirt up. The truck stalled on me, making the guy behind me bump into me. I growled low in my throat and gave him the evil eye before vrooming off.
It took a few minutes to get home. Johnny was sitting on the couch when I came in. "Hey, Johnnycake, where's Ponyboy?" His gentle eyes fell on mine. I wondered to myself why a boy like him had to go through the beatings of his parents.
"He went to the movies by himself..." he said softly. I froze. By himself?
"Is my dad here?" I asked. Johnny shook his head. I sighed in relief. A few months ago, our mother died in a car accident. Our father was there, but he survived. His wrist was sprained and he had a bad backache, but he's better now. Ever since he got better, he has been nagging on me. If Ponyboy came home with a single scratch, he would have a fit and rage on me about it. I groaned. "Johnny, let's meet–," but my voice was cut off by a scream. Faintly, I could here Ponyboy's voice yell, "SODA, DARRY, DAD!" My eyes met with Johnny's, who was at his feet now. At the same time, we rushed out of the house and into the back alley. We poked our heads around the neighbor's house and saw Pony on the ground with a Soc sitting on him with his knees on Pony's elbows. There was a blade at his neck and when I noticed how scared he looked, I lost it. Then I realized the rest of the gang was here too. The Socs began running as soon as I ran up to them. I grabbed one and slugged him hard. He fell and scrambled back up. Two-Bit was yelling and grabbed a Soc before throwing him down into their car. Soda was there with Steve too. Steve grabbed a Soc that was already in the car and tried pulling him out for a better access. The car began moving, dragging that idiot with them. Dallas had grabbed a giant stick while the rest of us hurled rocks at them. Dally threw the stick at them, hitting the bumper and leaving a rather nice dent. Once they were gone and the rest of the guys chased them for a few minutes, I went over to my baby brother, hooked my hands under his pits, and hauled him to his feet.
"Are you alright, Ponyboy?" I asked, shaking him a little cause I was afraid he was passed out–his eyes were shut good and tight.
"I'm okay," he said, opening his eyes and looking at me, "Quit shaking me, Darry, I'm okay." I stopped instantly. He looked dizzy.
"I'm sorry," I said, but he gave me a bored look like he didn't believe me. But I did mean it, I don't mean to be rough with him. I released him and stepped back a little, jamming my hands in my pockets before asking, "They didn't hurt you too bad, did they?" Pony shook his head.
"No." I looked back at the rest of the gang as Soda came looping back. I let Soda get a look at him.
"Did they pull a blade on you? You're cut," Soda announced. I saw the cut on the back of my brother's head and thought, Oh, hell, Dad's gunna have my hide for sure. Pony had a questioned look on his face and asked, "I am?" Soda nodded and took out a handkerchief and licked it, then dabbed at the back of his head.
"See?" he asked, showing him the rag, reddened by the blood. "Bleedin' like a stuck pig, brother," he said again. Soda dabbed at the rest of the blood on his head while the others came back too. Steve Randle, tall and one of the few people I really don't like. Dallas Winston, white-blond haired hood and hard to the core. Two-Bit Mathews, tall, cocky, and a real weirdo. Johnny Cade, the gang pet. I looked back at my two brothers, smiling to myself.
"You're gonna be ok, Pony. They ain't gonna hurt you no more," Soda cooed to our brother.
"I know."
"You're an okay kid, Pony," Soda said with a little grin.
"You're nuts, Soda, outta your mind."
I gave them a look like I wanted to knock their heads together when I said, "You're both nuts."
The gang was surrounding us by then and Pony quit shaking as bad, but he was still pale.
"Didja catch 'em?" Pony asked, looking around at the gang.
"Naw, they got away this time, the dirty little..." and Two-Bit went on cheerfully and called them every name he knew, some that would make a sailor blush, and some he made up along the way.
"The kid's okay?" Steve's voice rang behind Soda.
"I'm okay," assured Pony. He paused, like he wanted off of the subject, and thought of something to say. I looked around for a moment. Then, he asked, "When did you get out of the cooler, Dal?"
"Earlier, got off for good behavior." He was lighting a cigarette and gave it to Johnny, who took it gratefully. The rest of us sat down for a smoke, except for me. I have a reputation and my athlete health to worry about. I need to be healthy to keep up at work. But carrying two bundles of roofing up the ladder was no help either. Pony's color was back.
"What were you doin', walking around by your lonesome?" Steve finally asked.
"I was just walking home from the movies," he started and I knew what he was going to say next, "I didn't think–." I knew it.
"You don't ever think!" I broke in. He looked at me when I started back up, "You must think at school with those grades you bring in, but you don't think where it counts: home or on the streets. You should of taken a blade with you if you were going by yourself." He looked at me, with almost sad eyes. Soda noticed and stuck up for him, like he always does.
"Leave my kid brother alone," he started, glaring at me, "If he had been carrying a blade, the Socs would of had a good excuse to cut him to ribbons." I rolled my eyes, impatiently, and looked hard at him.
"If I want my kid brother to tell me what to do with my other kid brother, I'd ask–kid brother." But I decided to lay off of Pony. He's been through enough.
"Next time get one of us to go with you. Anyone of us will," Two-Bit said, ruffling Pony's hair.
"Speakin' of movies, I was thinking about headin' down to the Nightly Double tomorrow night. Anyone want to join?" Dallas asked. I shook my head. "Work tomorrow."
"Me and Soda are picking up Evie and Sandy," Steve said, sending a look to Pony, who seemed to look annoyed.
"Me and Johnny'll go," Pony said, "Alright, Darry?"
"It ain't a school night. I'll tell Dad later," I said.
"I was planning on gettin' boozed up tonight, but if don't, I'll walk over and find y'all," Two-Bit spoke up.
— — —
Later that night, my back began killing me. I asked Soda for a back-rub, since he has the magic touch. He agreed and sat me down on the floor in front of him on the couch. He reached down and worked his magic. His hands went up and down my back, in circles, in a motion that was putting me to sleep fast. "Rub harder, Soda, you're puttin' me to sleep," I moaned and he obeyed, moving his hands rougher on my back. I happily sighed and was half asleep when he patted my head and told me to stretch out on the couch. I nodded as he got up and slid onto the couch on my stomach. He rubbed his fingers in small circles on my muscles in my back and I was out fast.
My sleep didn't stay for long since our father came in, clad in his police uniform, and went to go talk to Pony. I was half awake when he came back and picked my up my the back of my shirt. "Darrel Shayenne Curtis!" he yelled at me when he dropped me to my feet. I staggered, now awake, and looked at him. I was probably an inch taller than him. "Why does your little brother have a bruise on his cheek and a cut on his head?" he asked me with a hard glare.
"He... he was jumped," I announced, looking at him.
"I thought I told you to look after your brothers when I was at the station."
"I tried. He was walking home from the movies and the Socs jumped him."
"I thought you were going with him, or Johnny or that weird kid," he said in question. When he said, 'that weird kid', I knew he was talking about Two-Bit.
"Well, Pony went alone. I thought he went to the movies with Johnny but I came home and Johnny was on our couch, waiting for him."
"And the weird kid?"
"He didn't know either," I admitted, "and he said that next time to get Pony to take one of the gang."
"So he's not too hurt?" Dad finally asked. I nodded. "And next time, you or someone from the gang will go with him?" he asked again and I nodded once more.
"Yeah."
He took a breath, "Good... good." He patted my shoulders and went to the kitchen. "How was work, son?" he called.
"I think I pulled a muscle in my back," I said, rubbing a hand on my lower back. He looked at me.
"Good, that means you're workin' hard."
"Yeah..." I groaned, sitting back down. He came back in the living room and sat in the arm chair. I looked at him. He gave a slight smile and took a bite of the piece of cake he got out. I yawned loudly, making him laugh, and got up. "G'night, dad," I said, staggering to my room.
"Hey!" he called. I froze at the entrance of my room and looked back at him. He gave a thumbs-up and said, "Work hard, son."
"Will do." I shut my door and sat on my bed. Those three words, 'Work hard, son', means a lot more than just working hard, it also means I should work hard taking care of myself and my brothers. That's a lot of responsibility for a guy my age. I hope I don't disappoint him, I thought as I stripped off my shirt and laid down. Quickly, I set my alarm and slid under the sheets before sleep overwhelmed me. And it was nice peaceful sleep too. A sleep I haven't had in a good, long while.