Divining Rod
Chapter 9
Aquiclude
XXX
I sighed as I looked at the drawing. Something wasn't right, some detail that I couldn't find, couldn't correct. I'd been working on it for weeks, sketching out the forms, penciling in details, shading then blotting it to achieve the right contrasts. Still, something was wrong but I couldn't tell exactly what because my own memory wasn't clear anymore either. I was forgetting, and that only made the hurt that much more painful to live with.
I put the sketch pad down and leaned back, feeling emotions well up that I'd suppressed for so long. Time may have eased the ache, but it was also dulling the memory. I wondered if in time, I would forget everything.
Hidden in the woods, the birds chirped and warbled their own songs. I could even hear a woodpecker hammering away on a nearby tree. I searched the woodline for the deer, but they weren't showing up. I wondered why, then realized maybe it was too hot for them today. Maybe they'd come out later when the heat let up some. Or, maybe they'd finally spotted me and were simply waiting for me to leave. I didn't make them wait any longer, gathering my stuff and heading home.
XXX
Inside, Two-Bit was still out on the couch but the trashcan was back in the kitchen. Darry was making dinner.
"The yard looks good. Find any snakes?"
We'd found a few snakes hiding in the grass, two last year and one this year, and we were always waiting for more. "No. Just a mouse."
Darry cringed. "I'd rather have snakes than mice. I'll have to put the snap traps out. Keep on the lookout for droppings. I can't afford an exterminator any time soon." He jutted his chin out towards Two-Bit. "Was he here when you left?"
"Yeah. He was sloshed, so I left him to sleep it off and went for a walk around three."
Darry tried to hide a faint grin. "Sort of hot for a walk, ain't it?"
"Heat's the same, sitting or moving. Taco's?"
"Yeah. Go set the table, Soda should be getting off soon."
I grabbed the plates and set the table, then went to my room to put my sketch pad away.
XXX
Uggghh, my head! Damn, how much did I drink? I rubbed my temples and sat up, steadying myself with one arm clamped on the couch cushion and the other on the nearby table. The floor and the room had somehow become a carnival ride, spinning in opposite directions. Nearby, I heard the flick of paper and tried really hard to make my eyes focus. When they did, I saw Darry staring straight at me.
"Welcome back to consciousness," he muttered as he folded his paper and got up. The crinkling of newsprint scratched on my raw nerves.
"Yeah, thanks. I miss anything?"
He handed me some pills and a mug of coffee, then sat back down in his chair. "Swallow that first." I did, the tartness of black coffee zinging my senses. At least I could see better.
"Two-Bit, I'm only gonna say this once, so listen up. Ponyboy looks up to you, so how you act around him becomes my business when you bring it into my home. If you want to get stone cold drunk and pass out, so be it; but find another couch to sleep it off on. We reading each other clear enough?"
I nodded. "Sure, Dar. You know I wouldn't do nothing to hurt that kid."
"Not intentionally, no. But deep down he looks at you to be an example. Let's face it, buddy; sometimes you ain't setting the best example."
"Pony's a good kid, Dar," I muttered as I stretched my eyelids with my fingers. "You ain't got nothing to worry about."
"Like hell I don't. His grades went south, he's getting into fights, and he's spending way more time away from the guys than I'd like. I don't even know where he's going here lately, hell - no one seems to know. Soda mentioned he was asking about Curly … I can't tell you how much that scares the wits outa me."
"Pony's too smart for that," I said, my head less foggy. Darry's concern showed in lines etched deep in his face as he looked out the screen door.
"Even smart kids wind up in bad trouble."
"Curly was never smart, Darry. Ponyboy ain't gonna go that route. Don't worry," I said, reaching over to pat his knee, "I'll keep my eyes open."
"It ain't gonna help when your eyes are bloodshot," he spat back.
Ouch. He really knows how to hit a guy without swinging. I nodded, slurping more of the coffee down my throat. "Point taken. I'll do better, but I can't promise to be perfect."
"I'll take what I can get."
"Where is everyone, anyway?" I held the coffee, the whiffs of steam floating away into the warm summer air. The house was quiet. My nerves appreciated it, but still... I had a feeling I'd said something earlier that perhaps I shouldn't have. Booze does nothing for the memory, but I keep forgetting that.
"Pony and Soda are over at the lot passing the ball. Steve ain't set foot back in here since I tossed him out, although Soda told me things were back to normal between them."
"Yeah, ain't much gonna get between them and stay there for long."
"I hope not. Steve's a good buddy. You are too. We couldn't have made it this far without you guys." He got up and stood in the doorway looking out at the world. I managed to make it to my feet and put the coffee mug in the kitchen then went to stand next to him, looking out too. In the distance I could just make out two figures, the ball getting passed from one to the other.
"I'll do better, Dar," I said more seriously.
"I'm counting on it."
XXX
The air felt heavy, thick; palpable almost. The place silent and ominous. Darker even, with the sunlight obscured by a smog-like covering that penetrated everything. The only noise was the faint bubbling of the stream, which seemed itself to have slowed in protest to whatever danger was near.
The doe felt it too. Twice she raised a hoof to go forward, twice she set it back down, her senses telling her not to proceed. Her eyes couldn't perceive the danger but she felt it. Instinct told her to retreat back to safety. Her fawn, however, wasn't as intuitive.
Tired of waiting for its mother to step out into the clearing and thirsty after hours of play with no rest, the fawn stubbornly pranced around its mother, into the clearing and stood in the open. It waited, wondering what the worry had been, then turned to bleat a teasing call back. Danger, however, had never been so near.
Hidden in a thicket was a hunter. Dressed in camouflage and wearing a mask to contain the scent of his breath, the hunter slowly raised his rifle, the scope aiming at the young deer. With painfully slow movements, he cocked the weapon; but the mechanism within the rifle was old and the distinct "click" was heard. The doe bleated a warning and leaped backwards into safety. The hunter, now hurried, checked the sites again and squeezed. The sound reverberated everywhere, shattering the stillness instantly.
"NOOOO!"
XXX
His piercing scream jerked me awake, the suddenness of it disorienting me in the darkness. Still, I reached out and found his arm, grabbing hold as if he were somehow falling. "Pony!"
Darry, too, had heard. He came barreling into our room wearing just his briefs while holding a baseball bat, ready to take on anyone. "Ponyboy?" Darry asked, lowering the bat and going to Pony's other side. "What's going on?"
"Nightmare," I answered, as if it wasn't obvious. Pony was still in the thick of it too, judging by how he was acting. It even scared me some; it had been ages since his nightmares had been an issue for him. Still, all the signs were there. His clothes were damp and hair slick with perspiration. He was trembling something fierce, muscles rigid and his breath was coming in short rasps.
"Pone? Wake up, kiddo. Ya with us?" Darry asked, rubbing the muscles of his other arm which had to be as as locked tight as the one I held. Like a dance, we were out of practice but still remembered the steps. "Ponyboy?"
"Hey Pony? C'mon... wake up." I laid my hand on his shoulder, feeling the dampness that had already soaked his t-shirt. The shaking slowed, his muscles finally began to give again.
"Sssssoda?"
"Yeah Pone. I'm here. Darry and me both. Relax Ponyboy, you're okay. You're awake now."
Finally the tension in his body began to fade and he started to get some color back, but his eyes were still jumpy, still frightened. The fading bruises from days ago looked like smudges against his pale skin. Darry watched him, his own fatigue and concern showing through. "You remember anything?"
"It wasn't that dream, it... was different..."
Great. Now we had two dreams that were gonna screw with him. "What happened Pone?"
He stared out, not looking at either of us. "A gun. Someone... had a gun."
"It was just a dream, Ponyboy," Darry said. "Ain't no one coming in here with a gun."
Pony looked from him to me and nodded, his face tinging pink. "I know. I'm sorry.. you guys don't need this. Dar, I'm fine... go back to sleep."
Darry smirked, pushing Pony's damp hair back. "You need to see the barber. As for sleep, I think I will. You gonna be okay?"
He nodded and Darry got up. "Night guys." A moment later, "Soda?" I looked up and he gave me a look. I understood and nodded. He flipped off our light and disappeared down the hall.
Pony got up and tugged off his nightclothes, slipping on some clean ones before heading for the door. Later, when the toilet flushed but he didn't come back, I went to find him. He was outside, smoking. I joined him and pulled one out of the pack, lighting mine with the burning end of his. For a moment, it was just the two of us, sitting out and sharing a smoke.
"What else happened in that dream?"
"I don't remember most of it. Just... that there was a gun, someone pointed it and it went off. When it fired... that's when I woke up. I'm sorry I yelled."
I flicked the ashes off the end of my stick. "Stop apologizing. You can't help what happens in your sleep. I ain't gonna get mad if you wake me up for something like that. Darry ain't neither, so can it."
We smoked for a bit longer, then … "I wasn't nothing about Dal, was it?"
He bristled, goosebumps chilled his skin. "Uh uh." He took a long drag off his stick and flicked it into the yard, then rubbed his arms. "I'm cold. Think I'm gonna go in and try to get some sleep."
"Yeah, me too." I flicked my stick out with Pony's and followed him inside.
"Soda?" he asked, when we were back in bed. "You remember that night?"
"Which night?"
"That night, the night Johnny and Dal...?"
I pulled up on an elbow, looking at him better. "Yeah. Of course I do." He didn't say anything right away. "Why?"
"Think you'll ever forget it?"
I blinked hard. "No, I don't."
Pony turned a little, looking at me. "Sometimes, I'm not so sure."
"Whaddya mean?"
He furrowed his brow some. "Some of it's clear, some of it's fuzzy. It's like I can't be sure it's right or not. My memory. Ya dig?"
That night was so ingrained in my head I doubt I'd ever forget it. The sickening image of him walking through that door, beaten and bloodied, to announce Johnny's death. Then, how he made it to the lot as bad off as he was I'll never understand. And finally to have him collapse at our feet... I shivered, not wanting to remember anymore. "It wasn't a good night, Ponyboy. You were sick. Real sick. You're allowed to have fuzzy memories. It's okay."
"I don't want to forget them."
"You won't," I assured, wrapping my arm over him and feeling him tuck into me. "None of us ever will."
XXX
Calla Lily Rose
