Winter's Soliloquy
Chapter 4
Lasagna
XXX
The lasagna was cold. Michelle set it back in the oven to reheat as I pulled my jeans back on.
"Mind if I use your phone? It's late, but I told them I'd be calling."
"Go ahead," she called back to me. "There's one by the bed or in here. Whatever's your pleasure."
I couldn't help smiling at what my pleasure had been. I grabbed the phone, leaned back against some pillows and dialed. It rang three times before....
"Hello?"
"Evening Mrs. Nixon. It's Darry. Sorry for the lateness of the call. May I speak with Sodapop please?"
"Um, Darry.... gosh, I don't know what to say.... They're not here. I've been trying to reach you, but there hasn't been an answer at your number."
"I'm not at home. I've been out with a friend for the afternoon. But they're not there yet?" I sat up and looked at my watch, tapping the crystal in case it was a mistake. They should have been there hours ago. "Did they call? Say they'd be late or something?"
"No. I had hoped to hear from them by now. Have you been listening to the news?"
"The news? No. Why?" The last thing on my mind for the last few hours had been the news. All that was ever on was that disaster in Vietnam. Ever since Soda's accident, even hearing it on the news made me sick.
"Why? Most of the roads have been shut down due to the storm. Everything west of the capitol is at a standstill. It's headed your way but might stall out before hitting Tulsa. I figured they had either turned around or found a hotel."
I winced, knowing I should have stayed home. "I'll make some phone calls, see if I can't hunt them down. If you hear anything, could you call me? I'll head home here in a few minutes."
"Sure, Darry. I'm sure they're fine. Still, I'll call your house in the morning. See if we can't find where they're spending the night."
I hung up and dialed another number. It rang a few times, then Mr. Randle answered. I hated talking to him. His mood was never predictable, and he was seldom cordial.
"Yeah?"
"Mr. Randle. Sorry to bother you, sir. Is Steve there?"
"Who the hell is this?"
"Darrel Curtis. I need to talk to Steve. It's important."
"Important, huh? Right. Hold on... Steven! Phone!" I held my ear away, he didn't even try to muffle his shout. I switched ears, the left one still ringing.
"Hello?"
Lord, I hoped he wasn't drunk. "Steve, it's Darry. Has Soda or Ponyboy gotten in touch with you this afternoon?"
"Darry? Ain't you out on a date? Whacha worried about …."
"Steve! Have they called?"
"No, Dar. They ain't called here. Course, I ain't been home all afternoon. Got in maybe two hours ago. Have you tried Two-Bit?"
I sighed. "Not yet. I figured if Soda was gonna call, he'd call you if he couldn't get me. I'll try there next. Thanks."
"Something wrong?"
I hesitated. I was being my typical pessimistic self when it came to those two. More than likely, they were hunkered down in some hotel room wearing only their underwear with take out in front of them, watching something stupid on the TV. "Don't know. Probably not. Just call me if they get in touch with you. I'm headed home in a few minutes." I hung up, knowing courtesy could wait. I gave it two seconds then called Two-Bit.
"Hello?"
"Hey Karen. Is Two-Bit home?"
"Nope. He's out with Cynthia."
Silence as I forced myself to cool it.
"You wanna talk to ma?"
"Sure. Thanks."
Muffled noises, then Mrs. Mathews was on the phone. "Hello?"
"Mrs. Mathews, sorry to bother you. Darrel Curtis here. Have my brothers - by chance - called your house today?"
"No, Darry they haven't."
I hadn't realized I was whacking the wall with my fist. Michelle was in the doorway, looking concerned.
"Thanks, Mrs. Mathews. I'd better go. If they should call, could you let me know? I'd appreciate it."
I hung up the phone, rubbing my eyes as to what to do. They had the truck, I had no wheels. And with the roads closed, they could be anywhere. Like sitting in a hotel, laughing at something Barney Fife was doing to Andy on the TV; or …. I didn't want to go there. I refused to let my thoughts wander in that direction. At least, not yet. Whatever had happened, I had to go home. I worried better there.
"What is it?" she asked, looking at me carefully.
"They never made it. The road's closed - massive snow storm. They didn't call Mrs. Nixon – the woman who was expecting them; and they haven't gotten in touch with anyone here either. I gotta get home." I got up and found my shirt, sliding it on.
"I'll drive you." She went and got dressed. I flipped the oven off, grabbed our coats and together we headed out toward my place, a few snow flakes falling along the way. I was too busy worrying, allowing my persistently pessimistic parental side to surface rather than enjoying the peace of the night and the woman at my side. Lordy have mercy, I couldn't even think straight.
"Darry, don't worry," she insisted, squeezing my hand tighter. I looked at her. "The phone lines might be down and they simply can't call. Besides, Soda's a good driver, right? He's a mechanic too. It isn't like he won't be able to fix whatever might have gone wrong... if anything had gone wrong."
"Right." Essentially, I hadn't heard a word she'd just said. I needed to think … I needed ... a map. The only one I knew of was in the truck, until I remembered proofing something for Ponyboy about the Trail of Tears and the Cherokee Indians. At the time, I'd given him hell and high water for all the overly detailed drama he'd inserted. Now I was grateful for it. Once I got home, I went straight to his desk, searching it quickly until I found the old report and pulled it out of the protective sleeve he'd slid it into. Enclosed with all his notes was an old road map of Oklahoma - lifted, I think, from the DX courtesy of its employees. Once at the table, I opened it up and ran my finger down the route Soda was supposed to have taken.
All the roads that Soda could have been on were closed. And since I had no idea where he'd have turned around at or what alternate route he'd have tried; the possibilities were endless. I simply had to hope they were hunkered down in a hotel for the night. In the morning, I'd borrow a set of wheels from Tim and somehow get Steve and Two-Bit to help as well.
XXX
The teenager sat hunched in the borrowed bed, looking out into the night as swirls of snow came down. One floor below her, she heard Mrs. Nixon still pattering around the house; but the bundle of unsettled nerves kept her from settling down and fading to sleep. She knew something was wrong. She could feel it. Ponyboy would have called, he would have... no matter if he had turned around and headed back home or was stranded in a hotel – he wasn't the type to make people worry. Trouble followed him like a shadow it seemed, sure; but he wouldn't intentionally make it worse.
Fog had taken over the window pane again, so she wiped it with her sleeve until a small circle allowed her to see out into the darkness. There she sat, worry filling her mind until the nervous energy demanded an outlet, and she hatched a plan. She knew the roads that had been closed, knew the road Ponyboy should have taken and knew the alternates that could have been used. Plotting them out in her mind, she chose the one that seemed the most logical. Afterall, there really weren't that many routes, they were just long in the undertaking.
Another hour passed before the house was still. Mrs. Nixon had gone on to sleep, thinking to herself that nothing could be that wrong. In the morning, a few simple phone calls would be made and both Curtis brothers would be located - probably in a hotel somewhere along the way.
But Linda wasn't convinced, and being the impulsive teenager that she is, she was determined to act on her intuition. Outside the window, the snowfall had slowed and the barn could be seen. Just inside the entrance, bathed in moonlight, stood Casper and Newman - as if waiting and wondering themselves.
And, with a stubbornness that would make even Ponyboy envious, Linda got up, dressed as warmly as she could, and snuck outside without anyone noticing.
The horses whinnied as she came up.
"Shh guys, you wanna get me busted or something?"
Casper nudged her with his head. "Come on. I ain't waiting around here either. If Pony won't go to the horse, then the horse will go to Pony. You too, Newman, let's go." She saddled both horses, leaving their cold weather wraps on them as well. In short order, she was ready to go. She climbed on Newman and took Casper's reins, gave Newman a slight kick and the three were off, heading down the main road out towards the dark deserted highway.
XXX
Calla Lily Rose
