From The Beginning
Chapter 9
I still had no idea.
XXX
A muffled noise got my attention, waking me from a sound sleep. My eyes open wide, I concentrated for the noise again. It wasn't Soda and Pony whispering and giggling in Soda's room; that had been hours ago and this was something different. I didn't hear it again, but all my senses were firing. I quietly got up, grabbing my baseball bat from its spot next to my dresser. Creeping down the hall, I saw the boys nestled together, asleep in Soda's bed. My heart thumped, concerned for their safety if not for my own. There hadn't been any break-in's in our neighborhood in years... no one on this side of town had anything of value to steal anyway, but I was sure I'd heard a noise. I tiptoed further to where I could see the living room, making out a shadow moving around.
I raised the bat, using my elbow to flip the switch. If I had swung, I'd have taken off Johnny's head.
"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed as he spun around. I stopped suddenly, putting the bat down and coming closer. "What happened?" I asked more seriously.
"It's nothing, really Darry," he said, trying to avoid looking at me. He gave up when I lightly fingered his chin to face me. "It'll heal in time." He muttered, his words slurring some as he tried to not re-open his split lip.
His right eye was red and swelling, and a trail of blood made it's way down his chin from his lip. I grabbed some ice and a dishtowel to make a cold pack, handing it to him then got the first aid kit.
"This might sting..." I said absently as I cleaned him up. He winced, but didn't pull away. "Who hit you?" He wouldn't say, which told me a lot. "Your Dad?" I guessed softly. His parents were always skinning him for something - trivial stuff usually.... Johnny acted tough, but he was too timid to really cause any trouble. He'd back anyone up in a fair fight, and if he was on his own and cornered he might come out swinging; but otherwise he shied away from trouble and was rarely the one to start a fight.
His eyes shut, a slight nod followed. I sighed, giving him another once-over and tossed the bloodied Q-tips away. "Stay here tonight. I can't sew that lip, but it'll heal okay in a few days. As far as your eye, you'll have a tuff looking shiner there for a while. And next time your folks get on the warpath, come here before the fists start flying. Okay?"
He tried to grin, winced from the pain, and nodded. "You sure I ain't in the way?"
"You ain't in nobody's way, Johnny. Now lay down, I'll get you a blanket."
I got the blanket off Pony's bed and came back, but Johnny was already out. I slung it over him and headed back to my own bed. On the way, I passed Soda's room, looking in again. Neither of them had woken up.
Pony was laying with his back to Soda's chest, his head tucked under Soda's chin. Around Pony was Soda's limp arm. This was how I was getting used to finding them. Soda had given up sleeping in Pony's bed and now the two of them used Soda's, his being queen sized and therefore more accommodating to the space they both took up. It still bothered me that they were sleeping in the same bed, but … it could be worse. At least Pony's nightmares were slowing down and Soda seemed like he was getting more rest at night. If I couldn't have them in their own rooms, at least I could have them both getting adequate zzz's.
Watching them just for those few moments, I saw something curious. Pony jerked slightly, a frown forming on his face. Soda's arm flexed some, he murmured something too low for me to hear, then they were both silent and still again. Neither had opened their eyes. I wanted to watch longer, but the pull of sleep was calling me again, so I crept back to my room, pulling my blankets over me and was out in no time.
XXX
"... Well, Darrel, I know you're capable of handling just about anything that comes along...."
Mrs. Mathews was giving me the third degree again. Apparently, Johnny had told Pony about how I'd found him in our house a few days ago, Pony had slipped it to Two-Bit, and he in turn had joked about it in front of his mother. Now his mother was here in my living room, extolling the need for better locks on my doors. I realized she only meant well, having seen us all grow up and was just as saddened at our parents loss as we were. However, I also knew that for many of the guys, there weren't too many other places to go to cool one's temper that didn't sell drugs, sex or alcohol on the same premises. I wasn't about to lock my door to anyone in the gang who needed a place... and that included her own son.
"Mrs. Mathews," I said, my too-tight black T-shirt giving a visual demonstration in case my words somehow got misconstrued, "I appreciate your concern, but I'm sure we'll be fine. If any of our friends needed a place to go, they know they can always come to my house. New locks would be useless, I'd rarely use them. But... if anyone did come in that didn't belong … I'd take care of it."
She scowled at me – but in a good way. A parenting way. "Son, you just be careful. I don't want anything happening to you or your brothers."
I smiled, trying to be reassuring while ending this. I had to get to the warehouse, and this chat was putting me behind schedule. I was running out of time to have dinner, which was all the little time we had to hang out for the evening. "We will, Mrs. Mathews. I promise."
She gave up and left, letting me finally close the door.
"That woman is a nut!" Soda exclaimed, finally able to sit down at the table to eat.
"Well, she's a good kind of nut. Pass me the beans, Pone."
He did. "I talked to the coach like you said to."
My eyes went up. "And?"
"He said there was room still on the track team. I dunno, Darry. I'd have to get new shoes, and a few jerseys.... all sorts of equipment. Plus, I'd have to get a school sports physical. And I'd have to get it all done this month. There ain't enough time or enough money."
"I can get you in for the physical next week, and as far as the rest of it, between me and Soda, we can get the money for your jerseys and shoes this month. No sweat! Sounds great!"
"Yeah, they were already asking me if I wanted to work Thursday. I'd told them no, but no one else is wanting it. I'll do it; that should take care of a lot of the expenses."
Pony sat stone faced. "It's too much for me to ask. I ain't that good!"
"Aww hush it! It'd be worth it to see you run. Did the coach have you try out?" Soda spoke through a mouth full of food.
"He had me run some laps around the track..."
"And? Were your times good?" I pressed.
"He seemed pleased." Pony didn't look as convinced as Soda and I were.
"Great! Now that that's settled, I have to go. You guys clean up, Pony - finish your homework, Soda – clean the bathroom some. I'll be home after midnight. Bye guys!"
"Bye Darry," they called after me as I headed off to work.
XXX
"I need the truck unloaded and Paul called out. Think you can handle it, Darrel?" Mr. Mayes, - Billy- asked.
I looked at the freight. It was a lot, but standing here staring at it wasn't getting the work done. "Sure, Billy, not a problem." I climbed in and started unloading, placing each box on the conveyer to roll down to the waiting guys who would have it be marked off the invoice, and then would send it out to the floor. It would stay in the shipping box until the morning crew slapped stickers on it and after that, it would be available for purchase.
Box after box went down, my back aching more and more with each one. To make the time pass, I kept thinking of what each box symbolized. That's part of the electric bill, there's gas for the truck, there's some of grocery... It made it more bearable to think of it all that way. Finally I turned around, staring at the empty truck and climbed back out. The other guys seemed just as tired as I was, and we were all happy to leave when Billy came back over.
"Good job, guys. And, even better, you got it finished before I expected you too. That'll be it. You guys have a safe drive home."
XXX
"Really? Four of them?" Pony was asking Steve in awe. It was nearly one in the morning yet the whole house was still up, a house that had ballooned with people. Both Pony and Soda were in their sweats ready for bed, but neither of them looked the least bit sleepy. Two-Bit was there too, swirling one of the beers he kept here, and Johnny was here as well, sitting silently at the table.
I liked them all, the whole bunch of them, but right now looking over the crowd, the whole scene made me grumpy. I was tired and sore and in no mood for their company or eventual shenanigans. A quiet night was all I'd wanted. Looking around, it was obvious I wasn't going to get it. And for good reason.
Steve held a cold pack to his head and when he moved it away, I could see a rather large goose egg forming. Looking closer, his hands were scraped up too. All the earmarks of a fight.
"Yeah, kid. Four. Broke my blade at work too, so I thought I was up shit creek until I saw that bottle. They'd been pounding me good until I swooped that baby up and cracked it over one of their heads. It took him a second to figure it out - why he suddenly had blood pouring down his face... then he bowed out. The other three tried to corner me, seeing if they could somehow knock the bottle out of my hand, but gave up. I guess none of them wanted to end up like their friend. Hehehe."
"That's one soc who ain't gonna be hard to spot. Just look for the well-dressed bozo with the stitched up face! Hell, you probably done him a favor, Steve, giving him some battle scars. Might make him look less lily-white!"
"Won't those stuck up soc girls just love that! I probably amped up his social life another notch!"
"You get hurt?" I asked dryly, not really joining in the hoopla.
"Naw," he grinned. I knew better than to pursue an inventory of his injuries. There wasn't a grease in town that hadn't been jumped, so to cry over scraped knuckles and some licks he took on the head would be rank. He wasn't bleeding - at least not anymore (his bloodied nose was still swollen some) so I left it all alone. This was Steve; he'd be fine.
"Well, anyway, thanks for the clean-up." Steve said to Soda, who nodded and clapped Steve on the back.
"No problem."
"You think I can crash here? My old man wouldn't like it too much if I came in at this hour."
"Fine. Take the couch. Soda, you got work in a few hours, Pony... you have school. Bed time, guys."
Everyone started moving around, Two-Bit sliding his coat on and Johnny getting to his feet too. Pony had been leaning on one elbow when I said his name and he nodded and got up.
"Hey, you get your homework done?" Despite being exhausted, I'd wanted to check it over, knowing he'd been having trouble with his math recently. His teacher just wasn't getting the lesson across, so I tried to help when I could. However, his ears got reddish and he looked down, shaking his head.
"Not yet. I'm still working on it."
"Still working on it?" I boomed louder than I really intended, angry all of a sudden. It was after one in the morning now, he should have been in bed hours ago... and he wasn't done with his homework?
"What were you doing all day? I told you to get your homework done!"
He paled some, shaking his head. "I went out to play ball for a while after you left earlier. Then, since Soda cooked, I cleaned the kitchen. When that was done, I started working on my homework again, but...."
"But what?" I demanded. So far, all I'd heard were excuses.
"He just went out for a little while, Dar." Soda said.
"That doesn't matter. He should have done his homework before going out to play ball or go hang out. I'm disappointed with you, Ponyboy. You know better – or should have."
An uncomfortable silence filled the room. The guys stood there, not daring to move, unsure what to do. Their eyes darted from person to person, cautious and careful.
"I'll uh, go work on it some more. Night, Johnny."
"See ya, Ponyboy." Johnny flipped up the collar on his jacket and headed out, Two-Bit right behind him. Steve had already made his way to our bathroom while Pony slinked off to Soda's room, shutting the door behind him. Once the room had cleared of everyone except Soda and me, I sank into the closest chair, my aching shoulders protesting my every move. I rubbed them, but couldn't reach where it hurt. Next thing I knew, Soda was there, pressing his thumbs into the ache and rubbing it out.
"The doc said to wear him out, Darry," he softly reminded me. I nodded. "I was only following doctor's orders."
"But he can't afford to fall behind in his work," I steadfastly insisted, albeit in a softer tone. I really hadn't meant to scare everyone off, but was glad they were gone nevertheless. "He has to do that first, then if there's time, he can go. Not before."
"If you insist on that, he'll always be left out. His classes are too complicated to allow him time after getting his homework done."
Soda was trying to get me to see reason, but I wasn't feeling very reasonable. "Too bad. I'm not going to let him fall behind just cause he wants to go out and play."
Steve had come back in from the bathroom, kicked off his shoes and laid down on the couch. He had changed into some of Soda's clean gym clothes, his street duds being dirty from work and his fight. He flipped on the set, flipped through once, then turned it off again. The only thing on was static – all the stations had gone off the air at midnight. I looked at the clock and got up. One thirty. If I was going to go to sleep, I needed to get a move on.
My back felt better at least, but I felt bad about Ponyboy. Poor kid's being pulled in too many directions. I knew that, I just didn't know how to deal with it. Judge said they were to keep their grades up, yet Sodapop had already quit school since that edict was handed down. If Pony started spiraling downward grade-wise, the judge might think I can't cut it and remove both of them. On the flip side, if he didn't get his mind off whatever was haunting him at night by mentally going full steam, he'd be an emotional wreck again. Where was the middle ground? What would keep him stable?
I still had no idea.
XXX
Calla Lily Rose
