Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this work of fiction, they belong to S.E. Hinton. I am making no profit through the writing of this.
A/N: Written for reminiscent-afterthought for the GGE 2014, and for the cotton candy bingo square, books. The books mentioned are: Claude Brown's, Manchild in the Promised Land, and Walt Morey's, Gentle Ben. Both books were initially published in 1965, and I thought that they would be good matches for Ponyboy.
This is set after the events of the book and movie, and before Soda and Steve ship off to Viet Nam.
Soda's never really liked reading books. He's always found them dull. They either give him headaches or make him fall asleep, but Ponyboy loves them. Can't seem to get enough of them, as a matter of fact.
Pony's confided in Soda, that, for him, reading a book is like visiting a whole new world, he gets so caught up in all of the characters and what's happening in the books.
"Soda, it's like visiting a whole new world, or traveling to space. When I start reading a book, it's like I get transported to a whole different place. Places where there's no Socs or Greasers. Places where I can forget who I am and what's happened. Places where time don't even exist outside of them." Ponyboy had told him once, and it had stuck with him, even if he hadn't really understood it himself.
Soda figures that's why Pony's always walking around like he's got his head stuck in the clouds. It's not clouds his head's stuck in, but the worlds created by the books that he's reading.
Soda may not understand what Pony's talking about, but he doesn't doubt what his little brother says. Ponyboy's different than him and Darry, and Soda kind of likes that about his kid brother. Wants something better for him than odd jobs, like Darry takes on, or working at a gas station, like him.
Soda fingers a book that's got an interesting cover. Even though he's heard it said plenty of times that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, he doesn't think it'll hurt anything to do it now.
He wouldn't have even picked the book up if the bright red cover hadn't popped out at him, as well as the thickness of the book. Ponyboy liked reading those big books. He breezed through anything else, and Soda wants to get his baby brother a book that will last him a good, long while, especially since Soda will be leaving soon. Heading off to Viet Nam along with Steve, and practically half the Greasers, even some of the Socs, in Tulsa.
Soda flips the book over, and squints at the words on the back of it. Tries to make heads or tails of them, but they seem to swim all over the place, some of the letters switching places on him right in front of his eyes. He wonders if that kind of thing ever happens to Pony, but quickly pushes that thought aside, because if Pony did have that kind of trouble, then he probably wouldn't spend most of his free time with his nose stuck in a book.
Part of Soda's trouble with reading is that the words never seem to want to stay in one place for him. Something that he's never shared with Ponyboy, because he's be too ashamed to share something like that with him, and he thinks that maybe it means there's something wrong with him. He's never told Darry either, because he doesn't need to worry his older brother about something that no one can change. Maybe if his mom and dad hadn't died, he'd have told them, but that's something he'll never know, and there ain't no reason to dwell on something like that.
Can't change the past or fix it, he thinks.
He turns the book over, and looks at the cover again. The boys on the cover remind Soda of the Greasers. Of him, and Darry, Pony, Johnny, who died way too young, Dally, who had probably lived longer than he'd expected to, of Tim and Curly, of Two-Bit, and Steve. His heart lurches in his chest, and he almost puts the book back.
Pony don't need that kind of reminder, he chastises himself, scowling at the cover.
But he doesn't put the book back in the bargain bin. He runs his hand over the spine, measures it between his fingers and wonders how many pages are contained within a book that's two or three inches thick.
Enough to keep Pony occupied for at least a couple of days, if not a couple of weeks. Up through when Steve and I leave, Soda muses. Maybe I ought to get him more than just one.
It's a used book, a little worn around the edges, one that the library's selling for cheap and Soda wonders if it's a book that Pony's read before. Knows that, if he does get it for him, Ponyboy wouldn't have the heart to tell him if he'd read it before, even if he had, though Soda doesn't think he's seen this book lying around their room. He thinks he'd remember it if he had. A title like, Manchild in the Promised Land, is hard to forget, even for him.
It's clear that this book's been read through more than once, the spine is broken, though Soda doubts Pony will be bothered by that. Might like it even more because of that. His brother's odd that way.
"You almost done?" Steve asks, impatient, eyes darting around the library like he's expecting to be jumped. It's an absurd thought. Not even the Socs would be cocky enough to start something in the library.
Books ain't Steve's thing either. Girls and cars – bosoms, engines, hubcaps, oil filters – those are things that Steve's into. Things that Soda's into, too, but this is important. Christmas is in two weeks, and he'll be heading off to Viet Nam shortly after that.
He needs to give Pony something to remember him by, something to take his kid brother's mind off of the fact that Soda's not going to be around anymore. Least not for a long while. Take his mind off of the fact that it'll be just him and Darry kicking about in that old house that used to be filled with love and laughter, but in the past year has been filled with anger and pain.
The heartache after Johnny and Dally's deaths had been so wide and deep that, for awhile there, Soda had wondered if there'd be a way to bridge that gap in Ponyboy's heart. He'd worried that he'd lose his little brother like he'd lost their parents ... Johnny ... Dally. Seeing Ponyboy in that much pain had nearly killed him, and though Darry will probably never admit it, it had nearly killed him too.
"Yeah," Soda says, shows Steve the book that feels like a lead weight in his hand. A weight that he can't put away, because it reminds him of Johnny, of Dally, of what he doesn't want for Ponyboy.
Steve eyes the bin of secondhand books, and frowns, plucks a couple of books up, and, after looking them over, tosses all but one of them back. The one he's chosen isn't even half as thick as the one that Soda's picked out for Ponyboy, and it's a dog-eared paperback, but there's a bear and a boy on the cover that makes Soda think of adventure. Ponyboy could get lost in the world of Gentle Ben, he's certain of it. Even if it's only for a couple days.
"You should get this for the kid." Steve hands the book over.
Soda tucks the book under his arm and smiles. "Thanks."
Steve shrugs as though it's no big deal that he's picked out a book for Ponyboy, though half the time he's telling Soda to ditch him, and the other half, he's glaring at Ponyboy as though it'll make him disappear. Soda knows Steve doesn't hate Ponyboy, it's just that he's not too fond of him. Thinks that he ain't got the common sense that God gave a chicken.
"You ready?" Steve's eying the clock and the door, his left foot's tapping out a rhythm on the floor and a librarian is giving them a wary look. Her face is pinched, and she's peering at them over the top of her glasses, though when her eyes shift to Soda, they soften. He turns up the wattage of his smile, pulls out the coins that he's got in his pocket to make sure that he's got enough to buy both books.
"Here." Steve shoves a couple of coins at him and pushes him toward the back of the line at the counter. He's looking at the floor, and waves off Soda's thanks.
"Kid could use a good distraction or two," he says by way of explanation. "He'll probably finish those books in a couple of days anyway."
Soda knows better than Steve how quickly Ponyboy can make his way through a book. How he devours them like they're chocolate cake, which is probably Ponyboy's second favorite thing in the world, behind books.
Sometimes Ponyboy starts a book and is finished reading it before the day is out, something that Soda would never be able to do in a million years, even if he'd wanted to.
Soda's heart lurches in his chest, the books feel like deadweight in his arms. His mouth is dry, his palms are sweaty and his heart is hammering. What if these books don't transport his brother to another world, don't perform that magic that his kid brother loves so much? What if they fail at taking Ponyboy's mind off of losing another member of his family so soon, not to death, but to another place a whole world away? What if...
"He's not going to forget you, you know," Steve says, voice barely above a whisper, speaking words that have been on Soda's heart since he'd been drafted. Words that he's been too afraid to speak. Too afraid to admit. Steve squeezes his shoulder, lifts his eyes to meet Soda's and reminds Soda of why they're such good friends.
"That kid loves you more than he loves anything else in the world, even books. He won't forget."
Unspoken, but understood, are words that neither of them would be able to put together well enough, even if Soda hadn't dropped out of school when he had.
They're words of the heart.
Words that can't be found in any book, no matter how thick it is.
Words that, when Pony opens his Christmas presents, and looks at the covers of the books, Soda hopes his kid brother understands, won't ask his brother to attempt to put into words himself.
As he passes his and Steve's coins to the cashier, exchanging them for the books, Soda hopes that Ponyboy will understand what he can't say – that he loves him, and will always carry him in his heart. No matter what, and no matter how far away the Army takes him.