Molly's knees buckled as she fell to the ground. Jeremy's words echoed through her mind. Joel is dead, she thought to herself. And really, it was her fault. He had asked her, begged her, to take him with her. Molly had said no. She had said no, and now he was dead. A cry of agony escaped her lips as knelt in the middle of the hallway. Echoing around her, she became remotely aware of screams reverberating down the hallway.
"Molly?" She heard someone say through the screams. "Molly, please calm down, Dear."
Even as her throat turned into fire, even as her nails dug rivets in her face as she slid her fingers down her cheeks, she could not stop.
Joel is dead. Joel is dead. It's all my fault. It's all my fault.
She became aware of someone's hands hooking underneath her armpits and lifting her off the ground. She fought these hands, kicking into the air as she screamed fire from her mouth.
"Goddammit," a warm voice breathed into her ear, "we just heard the news too. Calm yourself."
It was Christopher, one half of the evil twins.
"Oh yes, Mrs. Gayce, she'll be fine," Christopher said to someone in the distance. "She was particularly close to Joel, and the dog attack was traumatic to her as well. We'll take her home now, and she can sleep this off."
"No!" Molly screamed, and she kicked even harder, trying to escape Christopher's grasp. "Please, no! Put me down."
But it was futile. A blur of lockers flew by as Christopher carted her away. The periods were about to change, and in the hallway, students had flocked to see what the commotion was. She felt embarrassed as she passed people she considered to be friends, acting foolish in a way she would never be able to explain. But then she locked eyes with a very familiar face, and her heart began to warm with hope. Ponyboy Curtis looked her straight into her screaming eyes. She watched as his elbows bent, his feet leaving the floor as he began to run, the piles of books and notepads falling to the floor as he ran after her.
In her incoherent screaming, one word began to take form: Pony.
Christopher found the door to the school and walked through it sideways to accommodate the inconsolable Molly. Ponyboy followed closely behind, hoping to intervene. But there was a car waiting. Pony grabbed one of Molly's arms and tried to pull her from Christopher's grasp. But another teenager jumped out of the car and popped Pony on the cheek as Christopher shoved Molly into the backseat. Pony fell backwards and hit the pavement hard, his elbows catching his fall. He heard a crack followed by a sharp pain.
"Stay away from my sister, you little shit," the boy who had punched Pony seethed to him.
With that, they climbed into the car and shut the door, speeding off into the cool, misty morning. Pony swore he could see Molly in the back windshield, beating her fists on the glass in an attempt to escape.
Mrs. Gayce, who taught Pony's pre-calculus, was suddenly at his side.
"Are you alright?" She asked. Pony lay crumpled up on the ground, clutching his left arm.
"Yeah," he breathed, but even as he said it, a wave of pain shook through. He gritted his teeth, hoping the moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes wouldn't spill out and betray him.
"Matthew got you pretty good there," Mrs. Gayce commented, bending down to inspect him.
Mrs. Gayce was by far Pony's favorite teacher. Many people at school, students and teachers alike, kind of kept their distance from him. He could tell that many were afraid of him, which didn't really make him feel too hot. But Mrs. Gayce usually had a smile for him.
"Those Wilson boys, I swear," Mrs. Gayce continued. "I know their grieving right now, but Boy Howdy, they are sure a rowdy bunch. All of them except- well."
Pony watched as the warm and kind teacher paused to wipe away one of her own tears.
"Grieving?" Pony managed to ask through his pain, his teeth clamped together to keep from screaming.
"Oh, I couldn't have expected the news to have traveled so fast. Yes, I'm afraid to say that the youngest Wilson boy, Joel, succumbed to the injuries he sustained in a dog attack last week. It seems young Molly was particularly close to him. I'd have reacted the same way if it were my brother." Mrs. Gayce paused to shake her head. "I just hope she can find some comfort with her family in this time. But let's take a look at you. Your arm seems to have doubled in size."
Pony followed Mrs. Gayce's line of sight to his own arm. The area from the elbow to his wrist was bruised and purple and puffy, his wristwatch now stretched painfully over his swollen flesh.
"Is it broken?" Pony breathed.
"Well, I don't think it's my place to decide that!" Mrs. Gayce chuckled lightly. "But let's get you to the nurse's office. We can have her take a look at you."
Mrs. Gayce grasped Pony's good arm and helped him up. Together, they walked into the school. On either side of the hallway, students lined to watch the spectacle, and Pony could feel his ears turn red. As he walked, he also became aware of a smarting around his right eye.
"Rubber-neckers," Mrs. Gayce whispered to Pony and winked. In spite of the pain and the worry he felt for Molly, Pony smiled back.
In the nurse's Office, Nurse Esther took one look at Pony and called it.
"Broken," she said with no shadow of a doubt. "And looks like bad break. I don't think I've seen such swelling before. Here, boy, let me see that arm of yours."
Mrs. Gayce patted Pony on the back and smiled her goodbye as she left. In turn, Pony nodded at her and placed his swollen arm on the table in front of the nurse. He sucked in a gulp of air as Nurse Esther worked the latch of his wristwatch. A second later, she handed him the leather strap attached to the pearl surface.
"They'd have cut that off of ya," she said. "Now let me look up the numbers of your guardian. You've got to get to a hospital."
Pony nodded his head as the nurse made a few phone calls. When she got off the phone, she looked to Pony with a bit of pity in her eyes.
"Your brother, Sodapop, said he was on his way to get you. Why don't you lay down on a cot while he gets here. Let me get you a bag of ice for that arm. Best to start now to control that swelling."
Pony sunk into a cot, using every bit of his will to not scream in agony. He had been hit and punched before, but he had never broken a bone. Suddenly, he was taken back to the day that Curly Shephard broker his arm. An absolute look of shock and pain had come across his face, and Pony wondered if there was a similar expression on his own countenance.
His thoughts were interrupted as someone, loud and clumsy, stumbled into the room.
"Pony?" A familiar voice called.
Pony sat up, supporting himself with his good arm as Soda spotted him and walked over.
"The nurse said you right broke your arm, ya goof," Soda half-smiled as he ruffled Pony's hair. "Whadya do that for?"
"It wadn't on purpose, Soda," Pony muttered a little more impassioned than he had intended. He swung his legs over the cot, and as he went to stand, a wave of pain threatened to send him reeling.
"Easy there, Pony," Soda said a little bit more concerned as he grabbed Pony's arm and led him to the door. Both boys gave a small farewell to Nurse Esther as they walked into the hallway and out into the school's parking lot, where Soda had parked his old truck. Soda had to open the door for Pony and settle him in.
"Darry's gonna kill me," Pony moaned as Soda started the car up.
"No, he's not," Soda comforted his brother. "How did it happen, by the way?"
Pony sighed, not sure he had the strength to talk that much. But he began anyway, talking about how he had seen the struggle between Molly and her brothers, how they had carted her out, how he had tried to intervene to absolutely no avail.
"It ain't your fault," Soda said when Pony had finished his explanation. "Not about your arm and not about Molly. You did everything you could."
By this time, they had arrived at the hospital. Soda parked, helped Pony out, and together, they walked into the emergency room. It wasn't until he was seated on a gurney and had received a shot of pain medication that he was able to relax enough to think of Molly. Pony's first thought as the medicine spread through his body and made his mind fuzzy was that Molly's brothers were going to kill her. He didn't know anything about a dog attack, but he did know that the three older brutes were probably in charge of the younger boy's death.
"Hey, Soda?" Pony asked. They were in a large room covered up on all four sides by a series of blue curtains. "Do you got a smoke on you?"
"Naw, but I'll go find ya some. Oh, shoot. I still gotta call Darry. He'll kill me if he don't hear about this before he gets home from work."
As Soda disappeared behind the curtain, Pony thought of how he had held Molly, of how they had briefly held hands. There was something missing in Pony's life since his parents had died, something his brothers tried to give him but just couldn't: physical affection. His mom had used to wrap him up in her arms. He had always pretended it embarrassed him, and maybe it had at the time. But he missed it. Soda always slung an arm around him as he fell asleep. And Darry would sometimes grind his knuckle into Pony's hair. But it wasn't the same as the deep, intense hugs that he got from his parents and now from Molly.
Soda came back a moment later with a pack of Camels and a couple of cans of Pepsi-Cola. Pony couldn't tell which one he was e more grateful for as he popped the tab on the cool can and lit up his cigarette. He took a long drag on his cigarette before taking a large, long gulp of his soda. He belched loudly, and him and Soda laughed.
"Knock knock," a man said before tossing aside the curtains and walking into the little almost-room. "I'm Dr. Jackson. The nurse says it seems like you broke your arm?"
After inspecting Pony's arm, he ordered an x-ray. Suddenly light-headed and giddy from the pain medication, the doctor ordered a wheelchair and had the high Pony wheeled to the large machine while Soda sat and waited.
In the end, the doctor diagnosed Pony with an oblique fracture. But since it was a clean break, the doctor didn't think he would need surgery. But since it was so swollen, they couldn't put a cast on it right away. Instead, the doctor wrapped it up with a clean bandage and put the broken arm in a sling with explicit instructions for no rough housing. Along with the sling, Pony was also given several little pill bottles. One was filled with something for pain. One was filled with something for the swelling. One was for something to prevent infections.
"Alright, Pony," Soda sighed once they had been given the okay to leave. "Let's get you home."
Pony nodded his head, very, very tired. Soda had to hold Pony's good arm as they walked. When they made it home, Soda settled Pony in bed and went to get a bag of ice for his arm. But before he could get back with the ice, Pony was deep asleep. Soda gently placed the ice pack, wrapped in a towel, against Pony's arm and quietly tip-toed back into the living room.
Soda, a little grateful for his reprieve from work, sat down to watch TV. But soon, he felt his eyelids grow heavy until he too was fast asleep.
XXX
Darry drove home from work, exhausted from his day roofing houses. He hoped he could drink some coffee with dinner before going out for his night of work. During the day, he had received a message from Soda delivered to him by his boss. Apparently, there had been an accident at school and Pony had broken his arm, but he was fine and they were at the hospital. He didn't feel that worried. Broken arms happened, and no one died from them.
When Darry walked into the house, Soda started awake.
"Golly, Darry," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "You scared me."
"Sorry, little buddy," Darry smiled sheepishly. "How's Pony. And where's Molly?" He asked the last question as he looked around and noticed that the girl was absent.
Soda filled Darry in on the day's events. As he talked, Darry went weak in the knees and sank into his easy chair.
"Soda," Darry whispered. "They're gonna kill Molly if we don't rescue her. We gotta get her."
Soda didn't even ask how they were going to do that as he followed his brother outside and into the early afternoon light. The sun had come out and draped the world in long shadows.
"I don't even know where Molly is," Soda commented as Darry turned the car on and started driving.
"I do," Darry replied with a determined look on her face. "The first day she turned up, I took her to get some of her things."
Soda nodded his head, glad Darry had a plan.
When they arrived at the house, a line of cars were parked outside of it. As they drove by, the looked in the window and saw the living room jammed pack with people. They could not determine if Molly was one of those people.
"Look," Darry said, thinking out loud as they parked the truck a block away. "I know where Molly's room is. We can sneak in around the back and see if she's there."
"And if she's not?" Soda asked tentatively.
"I don't know," Darry shrugged. "But it's the only shot we got."
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