Father and Brother
I do not own The Outsiders. S.E. Hinton does :)
"He'll be back by tomorrow, Darry, don't worry,"
Sodapop's words kept echoing in Darry's head. No…they were more than words. They were lies.
Ponyboy hadn't been back for four days now, and Darry had grown even more worried when he heard that Johnny had killed the soc, so therefore his guardianship over Ponyboy and Sodapop was threatened at the moment.
But what worried him more was that if Ponyboy was alive, would he ever forgive Darry? Looking back now, Darry realized that he had been too hard on Pony. Much too hard.
Soda had told him Pony's thoughts from a few nights ago: when he hinted that Darry didn't love him. That wasn't true. Darry loved Pony with all his heart, though even he had to admit that he didn't show it.
After Darry had forced Sodapop to go back to work, telling him that he had to leave the house, Darry felt himself drifting into Pony and Soda's room.
Soda hadn't been bothered to clean the room, so nothing had changed there. Clothes, Pony's clothes, were scattered on the floor, and a few boxes of cigarettes could be found under the bed.
But one thing that Pony had left behind that nobody could see was a little part of Pony: his scent still remained in the room, as if Pony was still there.
"Where are you, Pony?" Darry asked the air, "If you don't come out, then I'll come and find you," he was saying it as if Pony was there, in the room with him right at that minute. But he wasn't. And that's what upset Darry most.
Frustration overwhelmed the oldest Curtis, and he found himself throwing books, Pony's books, across the room. But it was as if he could feel Pony through his fingertips, so he stopped.
Tears slipped out of Darry's eyes, and before long he found himself bawling. He didn't need Soda to see this; he needed to be strong for his remaining brother.
The photos of Pony that were hung up in the room just softly smiled at Darry, and Darry noticed this. He stopped crying, and found himself smiling back at them.
He stopped smiling when he saw a picture of his parents. What if Pony was already with them? What if his parents thought that Darry was such a horrible guardian, that Pony needed to be with them now? No…they wouldn't do that.
"Mom, dad," Darry whispered, "Please…please let Pony be okay. I just want him with me, please," he begged, "Please let him be safe!"
A strong wind blew through the window. It was so strong that the bedroom door slammed open against the wall, "Mom, dad?"
The wind was gone, and so were his parents. But they had been here…they had to be.
One of the papers on Pony's desk flew onto the floor, so Darry went to pick it up.
The paper read: Who I look up to most.
Darry chuckled softly; "Probably Soda" he thought.
But as he read on, the subtitle read: My Brother: Darrel.
Darry was shocked, but continued reading.
Ever since I was three years old, I knew who I wanted to be: I wanted to be my big brother, Darry. When I was ten years old, I remember him putting me on his shoulders after his team had just won a football game, so I wondered if he was going to be a footballer by the time he reached twenty.
Darry laughed but kept on reading.
Though, by the time my brother reached twenty, he was already mine and my other brother's guardian. My parents had died in a car crash, so Darry had to look after us.
Darry swallowed.
He could have just let my brother and I go to a boy's home, but Darry wouldn't let that happen. He was determined to look after us, and I was so glad that he did.
The oldest Curtis felt a smile spread across his face.
Sometimes though, I feel as if he cares more about my other brother than he cares about me. I mean, whenever I have a track meet or a sports ceremony, he's never there because he's busy, but whenever my other brother, Soda, wants to go to a rodeo or watch a game, Darry will always go with him. Mom used to say it was because I was the youngest; the youngest tend to get ignored.
Darry gulped; had he really let Pony feel ignored? That he cared more about Soda than he did about Pony?
Whenever Soda's late, Darry doesn't seem to mind, though whenever I'm late, I get grounded. We don't really get along, me and my brother, and I think I'd die if he ever saw this paper; we're supposed to always be mad at each other, and admitting my feelings to him would probably just annoy him.
He's always paying bills, and he works as a roofer. I bet if the accident had never happened, then Darry would probably be in college. He wants me to go to college, and sometimes I think that's all's he cares about. Sometimes I wonder if he simply just wants to get rid of me.
Pony didn't hand this in to school, did he? Darry bit his nails.
But no matter how much he hollers at me, I know that I'll never be able to hate him. Even if he hated me, I would never hate him. And I know that he doesn't hate me, though I really wish that he wouldn't yell all the time; it just upsets me and gives me a headache.
Things would be better if we simply understood each other, though I know that we never will. But I also know that he'll never stop loving me, and I'll never stop loving him; we're brothers. No…we're father and son; Darry took that role after dad died.
One day, I hope that we see eye-to-eye. I know I don't make things better by getting into trouble or arguing back, though I guess he just can't stand being wrong. I can't either, and that's how we're similar.
Though these are some of the reasons I look up to him: he became a dad to his brothers; he works for us, feeds us, punishes us when we need it, loves us…but above all that he also lets us know that he's still our big brother.
So in a way, I'm writing this paper about my brother, who's a dad to me aswell.
I hope that one day we sort out our differences; then we'll be close again.
By Ponyboy Curtis
Ponyboy never handed that paper in in case he got Darry into trouble for it, though he did want to keep it since it would be a waste otherwise.
Darry stared at the paper, and was silent for a few seconds until he whispered,
"I love you, little brother,"
A light gust of wind flipped through a book of Gone with the Wind, as if someone was replying.
I know this is short, but I liked the idea :)