Ponyboy, 16, stood dazed, and Darry, 22, held Soda's dog tags in the palm of his left hand, staring at them.

They had just been informed that their brother Soda, not quite 19, still a mere kid, had been killed in action in Vietnam.

"My little buddy. My sweet precious little buddy." Darry finally said still gazing at the tags.

"How could I have failed to protect you?" His eyes welled with tears and he covered his face with his right hand.

"I WANT SODA!" screamed Ponyboy suddenly, as he tore Soda's tags out of Darry's palm and flung them across the room.

Darry took Ponyboy in his arms. Ponyboy broke down, burying his face in Darry's shoulder.

Darry rested his face in Ponyboy's hair, weeping himself.

Invisible to them, Soda's spirit looked down on them.

"How can I watch them suffer?" Soda's spirit asked himself.

All at once, both Darry and Ponyboy felt an unseen but soft hand on them, wiping away their tears and rubbing their hair.

"I am here, though you can no longer see me," they sensed the spirit to be saying to them. "I had no choice when death made me part from you, but death never has the last word. I will watch over you both, and one day we will all see each other again in a better land, never to be separated again."

Gradually, Darry and Pony calmed in the warm comfort of the spirit's presence, and fell into a deep sleep.