I tried the phone again, but Pony didn't answer. "Damn it," I looked up at the clock; it was really late.
Soda had just gone back into surgery. Go figure, it wasn't strep, and I was right. I took him to the emergency room when his temperature when up past a hundred and three. He went back for an examination, and I found out he had an abscess in his throat. It needed to be drained, and he was staying over night.
I put another dime in the slot and reluctantly called Two-Bit's house.
"Hello?" Two-Bit sleepily answered the phone. He sounded a little angry too.
"Do you know where Ponyboy is at?" I asked.
"Darry?" Two-Bit questioned. "I dropped him off at the house. He ain't there?"
"He didn't answer the phone. I'm at the hospital. Thanks, I'll run by the house."
"Call me if he escaped. I'll go run down to the Sheppards."
It would take about a half hour to drain the thing out of Soda's throat. I could get home and back. He had just better be there. Nervous was an understatement. I wasn't mad; I was freaked out. I tried to tell myself that he was just asleep. He wasn't missing or in the next town. I don't think my foot left the gas pedal the entire drive. I breathed a sign of relief when I saw him sound asleep on the couch.
I knelt down next to my youngest brother. "Hey kiddo," I shook him. "Wake up."
His eye lips flew open. "Darry!" Pony grabbed me around the neck and squeezed. "I thought you guys were gone."
This was new. "No, Soda's temperature went up real high. I took him to the hospital. Found out he didn't have strep. He had an infection, that lead to an abses in this throat."
"Is he going to be okay?" Ponyboy sounded like he was close to crying. He was a tough kid. He didn't cry for no reason.
"Yeah, what's wrong with you?" I hugged him back. He still wasn't letting go. "Pony, you're choking me."
He loosened his grip, but dug his face in my shoulder. I rubbed the back of his hair. "It's okay." I knew it was the nightmares. They made a slight return after our friends died. Waking up to an empty house probably freaked him out even more. As odd as it sounded, I couldn't help but smile. He didn't ask for Soda. Which meant that I was doing a good job. I didn't have anyone around to tell when I did a good job. Minus the state, but as long as they are fed and clothed, I was doing a good job to them. Soda usually came to me with almost any problem. He wanted me to hang out with him when he was sick or hurt. Ponyboy went to Soda. I was left in the dark about ninety percent of the time. I felt like shit every time.
"Do you remember it?" I asked. When he didn't answer, I stood up with him still attached to me, and made my way to the car.
"You and Soda are both getting way to big for this." I tossed him into the passenger side, and smiled before shutting the door.
"You had to carry Soda?" He asked.
"Yup, kicking and screaming like a kid. He doesn't like hospitals."
"Can't people die when there temperature goes up to high?" He asked gravely.
"Yes, but calm down. His fever was only one-o-three point four. It wasn't like it was hundred and five."
Pony leaned against the window. He was the only kid who could sit right next to you, and be a million miles away at the same time.
"What's wrong?" I asked again.
"Nothing," he mumbled. He was back to being teenager, and a moody one at that.
We made it in time for Soda to get out of surgery. The doctor informed me everything went fine. I had to bite my tongue. We wouldn't have had to come here like this, if they would have listened to me in the first place.
"Hey Pepsi Cola. How you feeling?" I pulled a chair next to his bed.
"My throat still hurts." He voice so horse, you could hardly hear him. "Can we go now?"
I shook my head no, and raked my fingers threw his hair. "I'm afraid not. You can't leave until your fever goes down to something kind of normal. You're throat is going to hurt pretty bad for at least an hour."
"Hey Ponyboy, you missed all the action." Soda scooted over in his hospital bed. "Come on." He patted the area next to him.
"Soda that ain't a good idea," I said, but they both ignored me.
"I ain't contagious," Soda smarted. He grinned at me, before resting his head on top of Pony's.
I watched as the fell asleep. For the first time, I realized it. I thought, the only reason Soda agreed to sleep in the same bed as Pony was for Pony's sake. Yes, it put an ease on the nightmares. I realized now, Soda needed Pony just as much. Soda took our parents death the hardest. I remembered back to when Pony was gone; Soda didn't sleep at all. I guess having Pony next to him was a tangible thing. He knew he wasn't going to loose him. I put my elbows on the bed, and rested my face in my hands. For me, this was going to be a long night.
"Darry, how many chin ups can you do?" Soda asked. I pulled out the old chin up bar yesterday. I guess the guys had discovered it.
"Twenty five," I answered. I really didn't want to get out of my bed. My back was sunburnt. I could feel the skin peeling off it. I came home and threw up.
"Holy crap. I can't even do five."
"You just got out of the hospital. You probably shouldn't be doing them at all."
"Soda! Soda get in here. Check out the kid," Steve yelled.
We both ran into the living room. Pony was on the chin up bar, he wasn't struggling. I had seen Soda. His struggle started after three. Same with Steve, and Two-Bit couldn't even do one.
"He's got to be cheating some how. He is on fourteen," Steve said. He was pretty heated that he just got his ass beat by a little kid.
Pony started struggling to pull himself up. I had to admit. I was really impressed. "No, he's doing them in correct military fashion."
"He's in good shape," Soda stated the obvious. I couldn't tell if he was slighted or impressed.
Pony let go of the bar and hit the ground. He pressed his hands to his shirt. "Shit that hurt."
Soda laughed. "You did fifteen! Ten more and you would have been tied with superman here. I think we need to hit the gym, Steve."
"Chill out. The only reason Pony can do so many is because he is scrawny. There isn't much to lift."
"Yeah well you're fat," Pony said pulling his hands away from Soda, who was trying to inspect the damage. Steve had done a low blow. Poor kid, he had lost more weight, and he wasn't happy about it.
"Stop it!" Soda ordered. "At least were better off than Two-Bit over here."
"The only pulling up I need to do in my beer to my mouth," Two-Bit grinned. "Well and my pants."
I rolled my eyes. "Ponyboy come on." I waved him over to the kitchen. "Let me see."
He opened his fists. He had blisters all over his hands and fingers. "They will callous soon enough."
What the heck did this guy have him doing? I understood cleaning, but his hands were seriously busted up. I didn't like it. I held out my hand. It still looked worse then his, but it was calloused. "Yeah, I know. You aren't doing work until those heal."
Pony starred at my hands. I guess he had never noticed before. "Ouch."
"It doesn't hurt." Not anymore at least. I remembered when I first started my roofing job. I could hardly stretch my hands out, and I couldn't pick up anything for days.
"We don't have to go until the heat wave ends. Father Mike says it's too dangerous. You shouldn't be roofing."
"My boss says houses don't roof themselves." I wish they did thou only in extreme weather. I patted his back. "Go wash those and wrap them. I'm going to bed."
I grabbed the first bundle. It was hotter than hell out here. It wasn't even ten yet. The sun was always the hottest between ten and two. I began to hammer the roof down. It was the same old monotonous routine. I actually liked roofing most days. I liked the idea of building things. Not to mention, it kept me in shape. Today, I was trying to work extra hard. Only three of us showed up to work. I was hoping to get a bonus or something. The heat was making me move like a sloth.
"What's the matter with you?" Jack asked. He was only a few years older than I was. He grabbed the bundle from my hands.
"I just feel sick. I got a bad sunburn yesterday." I put my hands on my knees. I was starting to feel dizzy.
"You ain't breaking a sweat. That can't be good."
I looked up at him. I wanted to say something but I couldn't. All the sudden, everything went blurry. I felt like the air was sucked from inside of me. I tumbled foreword as everything went blank.