Pony's POV:
I remember being at the hospital--wet, and waiting with Darry and Steve while Mom and Dad talked to the doctor.
After Steve had pulled Soda out of the water we'd both known something was wrong. There was blood spilling out from his ears and we couldn't get him to open his eyes.
"Pony, go get your parents," Steve ordered as he struggled to drag Soda closer to the shore. He looked so pale.
I don't remember climbing up from out of the riverbed, or racing through the woods and down the street to my house. I don't remember yelling for someone, anyone, to help my brother. I still can't remember how we all got back down to where Steve was hovering over Soda's limp body. The doctors think I must have blocked it out.
I do remember the way my father picked him up though. He lifted him from the rocks so carefully, not even caring that his best white work shirt was now splashed in red. My mother was sobbing and clinging to my hand. I remember Steve taking her other hand so she would stop stumbling across the rocks in her bare feet.
Dad sent Mom along with Soda in the ambulance while the rest of us packed into the station wagon and followed close behind. Steve sat next to the window and tried not to let any of us see that he was bawling. I hadn't understood how serious things were at that point.
I later found out that they diagnosed Soda with Sudden Sensorineural Hearing Loss. It only effects one ear in nine out of ten people with a brain injury. Soda was unluckily that tenth person who was effected in both ears.
The doctors were hopeful at first, assuring my mother that in most cases, people spontaneously recovered within three days. When Soda still couldn't hear anything after those first three days, the doctors told us that in 85 of all cases patients would slowly get better in one to two weeks.
After three weeks it seemed like everyone had given up hope, and my father had to convince my mother that it was time to bring Soda home and try to get on with our lives.
At first Mom wouldn't let him out of her site. She tried to keep him in bed, but that had only lasted for a few hours before Soda was bouncing up and down, eager to return to playing like he'd used to. It was another week before my mother let us out of the house to play again.
"Let's go to the park Pone," Soda said a lot louder than he'd probably meant to. Not being able to hear himself, he'd been having trouble controlling the level of his voice. He'd also started making strange noises, most of the time not even knowing that he was doing it.
When we'd gotten to the park a few kids from around the neighborhood were there playing Red Rover. Most of them stopped to look at us as we crossed the sidewalk to the grass. It was a pretty close knit neighborhood and almost everyone had heard about Soda already.
"Hey guys!" Soda yelled loudly, but as cheerfully as ever. "Mind if we play too?"
Tim Sheppard stepped forward with a nasty scowl on his face. "You don't gotta yell," He snarled. "We can hear just fine."
A general snicker arose from the other kids and I instinctively reached up and clutched Soda's hand. He looked confused. I don't think he'd expected them to make fun of him.
"He can't play," Curly had chimed in. "He won't even be able to hear us call him over."
The kids laughed louder this time and I tugged on Soda's hand, trying to get him to just come home with me. He frowned, and started making the strange noises again. The kids all stopped and stared at him, wide eyed. Soda stopped making the noises quick enough and turned bright red as the kids started howling with laughter. It was like Soda just understood that just because he couldn't hear himself didn't mean we couldn't.
After that day in the park Soda refused to speak again. That fall, when Soda tried to go back to school like a normal kid, the administration refused him, calling him deaf and dumb. My mother had been furious and went about hiring a tutor to teach him how to sign and keep him up to date on his school work. It was around that time that Soda started throwing terrific fits any time he was frustrated or didn't understand something right away. It was around that time that he and Darry started drifting…
