Chapter 3 The condemned (Soda's Point of View)

Today has been the slowest day of my life. Steve didn't show up for work, leaving me on my own to handle all the old and senile customers that showed up at the DX to gripe about bad service. The worst part is, he didn't tell me he wasn't showin' up, so my boss had me working overtime. Luckily, my shift is finally over, and I'm on my way home. I was thinking about calling up Steve or Two-bit to see if they wanted to hang out later on tonight, but Darry won't let me do anything for coming home late last night, and I figure if Steve stayed out without telling me ahead of time, it's probably serious. I hope he's not sick or nothing.

When I get home, Pony is sitting on the floor with his science book and papers spread out around him. Two-bit is lounging on the couch, yelling at the football players on TV.

"You know Two-bit, the players can't hear you." I tell him sarcastically, winking at him for good measure.

"Ah yeah, well maybe they'll here you when I slap your ass all the way to California." Two-bit answers back, tackling me to the floor. He pulls my arms around my back, and I flip him over my head, with quite some difficulty.

"You guys! I'm trying to think!" Pony yells irritably. Two-bit lets go of me, and I punch him in the shoulder before sitting up.

"Sorry Pony. How was school?" I ask, wanting to talk about anything but last night. I still get chills when I think about those orange flames spitting up in the sky.

"Fine. Boring. Pointless. Our track couch cut one of our best runners for getting in a fight, which I think is stupid. Now we'll loose every meet because some damn hotshot tried to start shit with our team captain." He answers, obviously in a bad mood.

"Don't let Darry hear you talk like that, kid, he'll see red." Two-bit answers. It's true too. I try to think about when Pony started talking like that to begin with. It's not in his character normally.

"Speaking of Darry," I say, pulling myself up to my feet, "Where is the guy?"

"Working late. Said he'll be home around seven. And for you not to go anywhere." Pony tells me. I sigh and head off towards the kitchen.

"I know, I know. Man he sure takes things so seriously. I'll start dinner." I tell him, flipping through the freezer to see what we have.

"Make sure it's something good." Two-bit calls from his place in the living room. "Preferably green."

Darry's Point of View

I get home around seven fifteen, glad that Soda's already cooked dinner. Today the heat index got to nearly one hundred and four, which is real hot when you're roofing houses. After we eat, Pony goes to his room to write a book report on some weird novel, and Two-bit starts telling Soda about this new girl, that isn't blond, but still hot. I roll my eyes and flip on the TV. Man that kid is crazy.

I stop flipping the channels when I get to the news, and I listen to them repeat everything they said this morning. How hot it was. Something about a drug scam, and then I turn it up when they post up pictures of burned house.

"Police say that at around eleven o clock last night, the house you see behind me was burned to the ground. One man was in that house when the fire broke out, and sources say, that man was killed." The brunette reporter says solemnly. I frown at the damaged house and shake my head. The nerve that some people have. When I stand up to make some coffee, I see Soda standing at the living room entrance. His face pale with horror.

Soda's Point of View

Oh my God. The kid actually died. He didn't get out of the house. Why didn't I stop Tim damn it? Why didn't I do something? Oh jeez, this is bad.

"Soda? Soda what's the matter?" Darry asks worriedly. I snap my head in his direction and lean on the wall behind me.

"No-nothing Darry. Don't worry about it. Just feeling a little sick is all." I answer. That's not a lie either. I feel awful. Like I could throw up at any moment.

"You sure?" Darry asks, placing his hand on my forehead. "You're not warm."

"I'm fine Darry." I say sharply, pulling away from him. I go into the kitchen to do the dishes, hoping it'll take my mind off of this. Man, what have I gotten myself into?

Pony's Point of View

Soda's been acting kinda strange for the past two hours, smoking cigarettes and not saying too much. Soda only smokes when something is bothering him, but he swears nothing's wrong. I stare at him from my desk, watching him blow smoke at the ceiling.

"Soda?" I call softly.

"I'm fine Pony, honest, okay?" He whispers back, trying to give a reassuring smile. It's not reassuring though. Not the least bit. My head jerks up to the sound of the doorbell ringing. Nobody rings our doorbell, so I'm curious as to who could be at our house. Especially at almost ten at night. I exchange glances with Soda, and the two of us get up and got to the living room, where Darry is already at the door.

"Darrel Curtis?" The man at the door asks. His deep voice seems to fill up the room.

"Yes." Darry answers anxiously.

"Officer Jamie Taylor, I have a warrant." The officer answers, flipping his badge. Darry backs away from the door to allow him, along with two other officers, to enter.

"I need to speak to Mr. Sodapop Patrick Curtis." The officers says brusquely. Darry and I look at Soda curiously.

"Th-that'd be me." Soda answers him.

"Sodapop Patrick Curtis, you're under arrest for arson and murder in the first degree."