Spring's Resurgence
Chapter 4
Revelations
XXX
An hour had gone by, and while the two knuckle heads had left, the missing duo hadn't returned. I was a bit antsy as to what they were doing. I knew he wouldn't go too far, but where was his limit? Lordy have mercy, I really needed to have that talk with him.
"Would you stop stirring that?" Sodapop, sitting on the counter eating a Popsicle, broke into my thoughts. "It's done for Pete's sake."
I gave him an annoyed look and took the pot off the burner. "Why don't you get down from there and help me out instead of giving me cooking tips."
"Cause you hate how I cook, so what would be the point?"
"I never said I hated your cooking, I just hate what you do to it."
"There's a difference?"
I never got to give him a rebuttal, someone was knocking on the door. "Make yourself useful, answer that."
"Aye aye, skipper," he sneered, hopping off at the same time. "Oh hey, come on in."
I looked over, wondering who was here.
"Sodapop, my you've gotten taller. Are you still growing?"
"No," he laughed. "I think I've pretty much stopped doing that. How are you, Mrs. Nixon?"
He let her in and I turned the burners off. Dinner was almost ready.
"I'm fine, just fine. Darrel, how are you?"
She tipped her head at me with a smile, her eyes glancing around the place. I was a bit embarrassed, knowing even if her place was trashed it would still be better than mine scrubbed spotless. Still, this was the best I could do. "Great, Mrs. Nixon. I hope your trip out wasn't too much of a hardship. If you don't mind, who called you to come out?"
"Oh now, you should know better than to ask. A little bird asked me for a ride out to Tulsa, and since I had some business to do out this way anyway... it seemed now was a good time. Where's Ponyboy and Linda?"
"Out," Sodapop said, grinning.
"Out?"
I rolled my eyes. "They went out for a walk. I guess to talk, but," I looked at the clock, "it's been over an hour … I could send Sodapop out to hunt them down. I told them to stay in the area."
She nodded with a knowing smile, waving me off. "No, don't bother. I'm sure when they get hungry, they'll find their way back. What smells so good?"
"It's just some chicken stir-fry. It's a bit bland..."
"Funny, Sodapop. Just because I don't use an entire can of seasoning...." I shut up, remembering our company who was probably not used to our ways. Soda caught my glance and cooled it too.
"Mrs. N., care for some stir-fry?" He was already getting the plates out of the cabinet and heading to the table.
"I'd love some, but only if it's not any trouble. I didn't mean to come here and eat you boys out of house and home."
"Don't worry, there's plenty. Darry always cooks enough to feed the neighborhood."
"That's because the neighborhood usually shows up. It's no trouble, Mrs. Nixon."
"If you're sure. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Pray for it," Soda laughed, whacking me on my arm and dodging me at the same time. He knew company like Mrs. Nixon was the only thing saving him right then.
We settled down at the table to eat, my eye on the door and the clock at the same time. I said nothing, but I was sure Sodapop knew what I was thinking. He was darting glances at the door and the front window just as much as I was.
"What business brings you all the way out here, Mrs. N?"
"Casper, believe it or not. There's a man out here who owns a mare in heat. He'd called me last year, but things were too hectic to get out this way. This year the timing was better. I had planned a trip later in the month when a few other mares are due to go into cycle, but when Linda called … well, some things are just more important."
"You brought Casper?"
She nodded. "Casper and Ivory. I've been wanting to pair her with Casper for years, but I don't own her and her owner would never agree to it. He wants her paired with another gray like her, and it's taken this long to find one. However, that sire's owner won't bring him out to Hollis, so Ivory's owner agreed to let me bring her here to him. It sounds like a logistics nightmare, but really only required a few signatures and transportation. I had to go over to meet the owner today, get Ivory in the breeding shed with the sire, go over the paperwork and talk with the vet. Linda was hopping all over my truck to be dropped off, I hope she wasn't in the way."
"No ma'am, she wasn't. She came in and a few minutes later she and Pony left for a walk. A walk that's taking much longer than expected."
"I'm sure they're fine. If I know Ponyboy, he wouldn't take her anywhere dangerous. How is he? I've sort of been worried about him myself."
I shrugged and nodded, not knowing what exactly she was asking. "He's okay."
She gave me that look, the look a parent gives when they know they're being lied to. I was out of practice with that look. "I didn't fall off the turnip truck yesterday, Darrel. Look, I'm not going to take him from you, but that doesn't mean I don't care. How is he? Linda'd said when he called … he was nearly unrecognizable on the phone."
"So Ponyboy called her?" Soda confirmed.
Mrs. Nixon put her fork down, nodding.
"He's been … distracted … since the shooting. His grades have fallen, but he'll bring them back up," I explained.
"Distracted? I would think the poor boy has every right to be distracted – according to what I read, someone aimed a gun at him in a robbery!"
"Yes, someone did. And that someone is dead. Ponyboy wasn't hurt too bad, grazed on the side. Didn't even need stitches. He's a tough kid, just not the type to let stuff go - and I tell him that all the time. Move on, get over it! He will, in time. He always does."
"So he's not having nightmares about it?"
That got both our attention. Sodapop and I looked up, alarmed.
"How … ?" Soda asked, not finishing.
"When he came out to live with me, he'd had some. Woke me up in the middle of the night, hearing him crying. The longer he was there, the less frequently they happened. Sure, he's tough on the outside – but he bottles what he feels until the cork pops. Happened when your friends Steven and Two-Bit came out that first time. After they left, the poor boy was an emotional wreck watching them leave; but he never let them see it when they were there. I can't imagine having someone aiming and firing a gun at him could be any less profound."
"We're dealing with his nightmares and in time he'll be fine." I answered simply, not wanting the true depth of Pony's problems aired in the open. I'm still his guardian and although I'd given her that opportunity to have custody, she and Pony both refused. I was in charge and had to deal with this my way. I know what's best for him. In time, he'll come around.
XXX
"So that's the strip?"
"Yeah, it's more exciting if you're cruising up and down it though, not just looking at it from the top of the overpass a few miles away."
Cars were whizzing past us, but we were safe standing on the grassy hill for the freeway on-ramp. At least, I knew we were safe, the drivers had other ideas.
"You come out here often?" she shouted over the angry blare of an eighteen wheeler. She was laughing as the driver accelerated and headed away.
"Here? Oh yeah.. when I don't want to hear myself think!" I laughed back. "Come on, we'd better split before someone calls the fuzz on us."
"Aren't you hungry?" she asked later after we were back on the sidewalk.
"Not too much. You?"
"I haven't had anything since sometime after one, when we stopped at the McDonald's on our way here. I swear Ponyboy, if you don't eat, you won't need to run like the wind, it'll blow you away!"
"Aw, stop. I get enough razzing from my family."
"They care, that's why. I care too."
I looked in her eyes, her irises bright against her flushed skin. "I know they care. But Darry rarely understands. It's gotten better since a year ago, but he still doesn't get me. Not really."
"Give him time."
She had no idea how much I hated that line. "How much? How much time do I need to give him to understand I don't think and feel the way he does, and probably never will? He's already had over fifteen years to figure me out. You did it in less than three months without even trying!"
"Hey," she said, pulling me around to face her. "I'm not the enemy here. And you're right. He might never understand you entirely, but I can tell he cares."
"How?"
She smiled. "Because he fights for you. Fights every time something happens. He fights to keep you. And this...." she waved her hands at me, "... this isn't you. Not the you I met out in Hollis. Where are you, Ponyboy?"
"Now you're not making any sense. I'm right here."
She shook her head. "No, physically you're here. But mentally... you're still in that restaurant, struggling. You watched that man put a gun to that child's head. A man who had already shot a waitress and left her to die. He was going to kill that kid, and only you could stop him."
I stared at her, my breath ragged.
"You're not in that restaurant anymore, Ponyboy. You lived. You escaped. You saved that kid from dying. The bad guy died, not the good guy. Stop letting that man hurt you. It's over!"
"It's not that simple," I said carefully.
She put her arms around me, pulling me to her tightly – just as she had when she came into the house. "It is that simple. You lived. That child lived. You couldn't save that waitress just as you couldn't save Johnny... but neither of them are in pain anymore. You shouldn't be either. Please … for your own sake ... let them go."
"I have."
"Have you?"
I pressed my forehead to hers, nodding my head in the process. Even as I stood there, nodding and saying I had, the images of Johnny dying seared across my mind. Sometimes letting go was the hardest thing to do.
XXX
Calla Lily Rose
