Darker

Chapter 7 - The innocent

My arms are wrapped around her legs, my cheek pressed against her knee. She can't go. They can't. I know I have to stop them.

Mom leans down, tries to uncurl me, but I only grip around her tighter, squeeze my eyes. I want her to stay. I don't know why they has to go. Why they want to leave me.

Someone comes from behind, puts his hands on mine. It's Dad.

"Hey, little man," he says. "Mommy needs to go now."

My arms are empty. I don't cry. Dad lifts me up, puts me down. I sit in Henry's lap.

"Thank you," Dad says to him, "for watching them tonight." He kiss me, he kiss my brothers. Darry wipes his cheek with a groan, too old for this antics, Dad ruffles his hair with a laugh. I can't move. I have to tell them to stay. I know if they leave, they're gonna die. But I can't talk, and they leave, and I know they're dead.

My brothers argue about baseball cards on the floor. I can't breathe.

"Boys? Want some ice cream?" Henry says. His voice is kind, but I know.

I'm the only one who does.

My brothers flies to their feet, cards forgotten on the carpet, and we hear them talk in the kitchen, putting bowls on the table. I wish they hadn't left me. Come back.

I can't breathe. I can't move.

Henry grips my chin, turns my head to face him. Too close.

"You're just a baby," he says to me, voice mocking. "Daddy think's you're so smart and sweet, right? An innocent little boy."

I can't breathe. I can only stare. His fingers are gentle, but his eyes-

"Your daddy was innocent once too. He thinks." Henry puts his forhead down to mine. I feel his skin, his warm breath against my face. "He's a traitor. He was my friend, ya know." It's a whisper. But then, his voice gets stern. Angry. Dangerous. "But friends don't abandon each other. Do they?"

I can't talk. His fingers makes my head move, shakes it to a wordless 'no'.

"You agree with me," he says.

"He thinks I've forgiven him. So silly." A frown appear. "Why do I talk to you, little Ponyboy?"

His grin shows yellow teeth. He's gonna eat me. I want to scream. I can't breathe. I want Mom, I want Dad, I want -

"You would never tell, right?" he whispers. "I can destroy you too if you do." He nods for himself. "Daddy wouldn't like that, would he? So you'll be nice to daddy, right?"

He fingers on my throat.

xXx

I can't breathe. My hands reach my throat, and I fly up, trying to suck in air. At an instant, Soda's awake too, his hand on my shoulder, telling me to calm down. I try.

"Come on, Pony, take a breath!" he urges, worry in his voice. He moves his hand to my back, stroking circles. And then I can breathe again.

"Geez, it's gettin' worse, right?" Soda says alarmed. "What the hell is it about?"

I lean into his fathom, and he curls his arms around me, rests his chin against the top of my head when I hide my face against him. And suddenly I want to tell him everything. I don't know why I can't. Maybe I'm afraid of what will happen if I do. Somehow it feels like Henry's still here, waiting for me to make a mistake. I know I kept my mouth shut when I was three, so why shouldn't I still do it now, ten years later? It has to be a reason for why I did it back then.

I know the reason. He told me not to tell. And I'm still scared of him.

"I don't know," I whisper. "I wish I did, but I don't know."

The worst is, my brother believe me. I'm alone in this.

xXx

It's hard to concentrate. I write down the same questions from the black board twice in my notebook, erase them all and have to start over. Then I do the same thing again. I sit in the back of the class room, but my deep sigh must've been heard to the front, because my teacher lifts her head from the homework she corrects.

"Ponyboy, come up front, please."

I don't want to. But of course I do anyway, I'm not a trouble maker. I stand in front of her desk, waiting for a scowling, but then I realize she's just concerned. I can't help wishing it had been the other way around, I don't like this attention to my person.

"Is everything all right?" she asks me, and I'm glad she speaks low. No one else than me can hear her. I nod at her question.

"Did you talk to Mrs. Ellis yesterday?" I nod at that too, and she smiles. "Good. I only wish what's best for you. You're my greatest student Ponyboy, but I would be sorry to have you another year."

I give her a weak smile in return. I know what she means. I'm supposed to skip ninth grade after the summer, go straight to ten, and High school, go with my brother and friends. And when I think about that, something else hits me. My dad went to this school too, and if he had childhood friends... before I know what I do, I open my mouth.

"Mrs. Nash, how old are ya?" She gives a little surprised sound, and I feel myself blush. I can't really believe I actually asked her that. "I- I just thought if you m-maybe were my Dad's teacher once," I say, stuttering over the words in a hurry to explain.

Her smile returns. "Well, I'm not that old, I think. But talk to Mr. Flynn, he's the oldest teacher here." Her voice lowers, and she looks like she's revealing a secret to me, still smiling, leaning forward over her desk. "He's over sixty."

"Okay."

"You can go sit down again, but don't be afraid of asking for help if you need it. About anything, Ponyboy," she adds.

Slowly I return to my seat. I'm glad she didn't ask me why I want to talk to my Dad's teacher. James turns around in the bench in front of me.

"What did she want?"

"Jus' talk about the schoolwork," I answer him, writing wrongs in my book again, erase them, starts over, until the lesson ends half an hour later.

xXx

I know Darry expects me to walk home straight after school, but since I know no one will be home anyway, I remain in the parking lot for over an hour, pacing and smoking to keep my warmth up. Then the teachers starts to drop out of the building, walks to their cars one by one or in small groups, some of them throwing glances my way. I dip my head, not meeting anyone's eyes, until the one I'm waiting for comes out, loudly talking to a collegue. I drop my last cigarette and step on it out of habit. It's snow on the ground, it's not like anything can catch fire. Then I open my mouth before I coward out.

"Mr. Flynn?"

He stops and watch me, then says his goodbye to the man he talks to before coming my way. I hate to talk to adults. I wish Darry had been here, he had known what to say.

"Yes?" He's bald and wear glasses, and he seems nice. I shift my weigth anyway, feeling uncomfortable and insecure. "You want something, son?" He studies me and I wonder what he thinks of me, my poor looking outfit and my greased hair. Then I remember, I'm not the only east-side kid in the school. It makes me more brave.

"Um. Yeah. I- I just wanted to ask you somethin'... about my dad," I manage to say, staring at the ground.

"Your dad?" Then he laughs low. "Don't be so scared, boy. I'm not gonna bite you." I glance up. "So, who's your dad? You think I know him?"

"His name's Darrel Curtis," I say. "I wonder if you maybe was his teacher."

"I had a Darrel Curtis in my class once, but I don't think he's old enough to be your dad."

"He's my brother." My hands drags at the straps of my backpack.

"I see. Well, I'm not sure I can help you. Why don't you ask your dad?"

I cringe at the question, force myself to speak the hateful words. "My dad is dead." I look down again so I can't see his expression, but I hear it in his voice when he talks next.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Was it recently?"

I don't like the way this conversation turns out. I don't want to talk about the accident. I ignore his question, even if he's just trying to be nice, I guess. He doesn't seem asking out of curiousness.

"I just wanted to ask about him and his friend. My dad I mean. If you remember him and a guy named Henry." I shiver, pretend for myself it's because of the cold.

xXx

I kick a small rock on the sidewalk, see it fly out onto the street with a rattled sound. I'm in a bad mood, and it's not doing it any better that I'm late, that my cigarettes have run out, that it's cold, that the old teacher didn't remembered anything at all about Henry. I'm not sure what it had helped me with even if he had. I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just stupid. Things won't change even if I try to make them do it. And I still can't be sure my dreams has really happened either. I don't have any evidence, and I already know my brothers liked the man.

I mean, it can be just me, stressed about Mom and Dad, right? Because how much I try, I don't remember anything when I'm awake.

Our truck is not home, but several footprints in the thin layer of snow over the lawn tells me that some people probably is at our house. Slowly I open the front door and step inside.

"Hey." I drop my backpack, relieved it's only Two-Bit. He sits on the floor in front of the TV, turing around to face me.

"Where've you been, Ponyboy?" he asks me sternly, unlike him. Where is his corny smile?

"In school. And you're not my brother," I add, before he have the time to reply that school ended almost two hours ago.

"No, but your brother Soda's out lookin' for ya," Two-Bit tells me. I try to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. I had hoped being home before him noticing me being late. I take my bad conscience out on my friend, snort at him.

"I'm not a kid. Why is he lookin' for me?"

"Don't be stupid, Ponyboy." Two-Bit rise, starts walking around me while I sigh. "Don't get me wrong, Ponyboy, I'm happy you're home safe and sound..." He frowns, studying me up and down with narrowed eyes. "You are, right?"

I push him out of my way. "Yeah, I am."

"So what happened?" he asks behind my back. I go to the kitchen, open up one of the cabinets to find a glass.

"Nothin'." I take the milk from the fridge, pours it. "I was with friends."

He sits himself down in a chair. I take a sip, still standing.

"Friends like in friends, or friends like in... a girl?" He wiggles with his eyebrows, almost making me laugh against my will. He can't be serious for a long time.

"Come on," I say, rolling my eyes, but I can't help but blush at the thought.

"Hey, you're old enough," he tease me at the same time someone walks through our door.

"Is he home yet?" Soda yells, but before I have the time to reply, he stands in the doorway, his solemn face turns to a grinning one when he sees me. "Where were you, Pone? School's been out for hours." He jerks his jacket off, drapes it over a chair. "I've been lookin' for ya. Steve's still out there."

"You didn't have to. You don't always comes home right after, " I defend myself.

"Yeah, but I'm sixteen," he points out, walks up beside me. He takes the milk I have forgotten on the counter, puts it back in the fridge and takes out a pack of sausages instead. "You're too young runnin' around town by yourself. You know about the Socs."

"He was with a girl," Two-Bit sticks in, grinning wildly. He leans back in the chair, hands behind the back of his neck.

"You were?" Soda looks amazed.

"No!" I growl, glaring at Two-Bit. "Stop it. I told you it was friends." I put the glass down. "You're so immature sometimes!" I push myself out from the kitchen, heading for my room. I can hear them laugh at me even after I've closed my door.

xXx

"I need to trust that you go home directly after school, Ponyboy!"

"It wasn't a big deal!" I shout back at Darry. "I have a life too! You never say anythin' when Soda-"

"Soda's older than you." He puts his index finger in front of my face. "One more time and you're grounded!"

"Hey, guys..." Soda sticks his head out from the kitchen. "Stop fightin'. Dinner's ready."

Darry sighs heavily, turning away from me. "I'm comin'."

I pout, mutter behind his back, "I'm not hungry."

I don't know how Darry knew I was home late, but I guess he met Steve outside. I'm sure neither Soda or Two-Bit told him, and he's been yelling at me since he stepped through the front door ten minutes ago. I'm not sure why, though, I'm home so he doesn't need to care about it, and he sure doesn't seem worried if that had been the case, only angry.

I thought he was finished, but my last sentence makes him turn around again.

"You're goin' to the kitchen, and you're goin' to it down and eat!"

I take a step back. "You're not my Dad!" I scream, regretting the words at the same time they fly out from my mouth, and the silence that follows them is hurting. At first we both freezes, it feels like a long time passing by, with Darry staring and I shivering, but finally my brother clears his throat, breaks the silence again.

"Pony..." He shakes his head. "Just go and sit down." He leaves me in the living room and I just want to cry. But I don't. I take a few shaky breaths, then I follow him.

The look on Soda's face is unreadable were he sits in his chair, watching us.

Thank you so much for all reviews, and thanks for reading! Hope you like it!