Hello everyone. I just wanted to say thank you for all of you who reviewed and read my story.
Also, the website was having some issues so there wasn't a notification for my last chapter, so hopefully everything is fixed!
Explanations
My brother was gone. My brother was gone. My brother was gone. It was like a record player had gotten stuck, the needle scratching and replaying the same tune over and over. Not that we had a record player. Just the radio. The radio never got stuck. My brother was gone. My brother was gone. It hurt…oh glory it hurt more than anything ever had, even our parents. Our parents had been in their forties. They'd gone quick, or so the police had said, and they'd gone together and it had been an accident. And it had hurt. It had hurt like nothing before it, but I'd had Sodapop and Ponyboy to look after! I couldn't fall apart because my brothers needed me!
My little brother was fourteen…no…fifteen. He'd turned fifteen without us and now he'd always be fifteen. He'd never danced with a girl or shaved or learned to drive or done anything my little brother was supposed to do some day. He was gone. Those two boys had told us that the man hadn't gotten him yet, but what did they know? If Pony was in trouble like they'd described, he'd come to us, or go to the fuzz or something! And that man knew all the police around and the hoods and everyone else in town apparently. So…so he'd died alone. Would they find his body in the woods close to where they'd found that girl's? Had it been quick? Had he known how much I loved him?
I'd been afraid from the moment they took him, and every time something new happened, I thought the fear and the pain couldn't get worse. First they'd taken him away from us. Then he'd called Sodapop begging to come home. Then he'd been moved to a foster home. Then he'd gone missing. And now…I'd tried so hard to hope…to believe that he'd gotten away if only to help Sodapop get through this. But there was no way a fifteen-year-old could get away from these guys and hide out for this long, not without help. And who was there to help him!?
The whole gang came back after about an hour and found us on the same spot on the couch. I couldn't move. I couldn't comfort Soda. My brother was gone. Two-Bit, who had been laughing at something Steve had said, stopped abruptly, having seen us first, and the other three paused as well, watching us. "You two alright?" He asked, arms crossed. Steve came in and sat in the place where those boys had been, Johnny beside him, while Dal took my recliner. He was the one I wanted to talk to, but I knew the whole gang needed to know. I needed their help...more now than I had before. Tim too. The police. Social services. Surely someone could get this guy.
Like they could sense that things weren't right…that something serious was going on, they all waited, watching us closely to take their cues. I was glad to have them. Glad to have friends that gave a shit about us and our family and our little brother. Our little brother. The baby of the family. Not even old enough to like girls yet. My brother was gone. It had been so long since I'd let myself really sit down and think about how desperately I missed Ponyboy, but I couldn't. Not yet. Not until I had this conversation. My stomach clenched at the thought. I didn't want to have this conversation. I didn't want to face the facts that I already knew. My brother was gone.
Two-Bit stayed on his feet at our side, arms crossed tight as he watched me. He was a goofball, but he was also the oldest of our friends. I know he looked out for Pony, or had, anyway, and Johnny as much as Dal did. He was pretty friendly, even with socs, but when he needed to be, he could also be a dangerous enemy...he didn't just carry that black handled switch for decoration. "We just had some visitors." I told them, looking over at Soda who nodded wordlessly. I could tell he was still processing. Or maybe he was in the same place I was, stuck on repeat, remembering our brother the day they took him and realizing that was the last we'd ever see of him. I didn't even know how I was talking, it hurt so bad, but my mouth seemed to be on autopilot.
"What kind of visitors?" Steve wanted to know.
"Two guys...they live in that house where Pony was."
"What did they say?" I realized that they were getting impatient, waiting for me to tell them more. Soda spoke up then, telling our buddies what I couldn't manage to say.
"Said that guy they live with, the foster father, beats on them...beat on Ponyboy." Two-Bit went kind of still at that, dark eyes glittering. Johnny went kind of pale too, even though his own family beat on him. I was glad Pony had had a friend like Johnny Cade. I mean...we'd all sort of known, at least some of it. Dally had told us about the black eye, but this went beyond the occasional punch in the face. Just thinking that made me want to throw up. What kind of world was it when 'the occasional punch in the face' was the least of my worries when it came to my fourteen year old little brother? No…fifteen. He had been fifteen. "When he had nightmares...when he caught him smoking..." Steve snorted humorlessly, knowing as I did that Pony was always smoking. "They said that when he caught him smoking, he put out the cigarettes on his arms." The words came out a lot steadier than I felt. They'd tortured my little brother, and I hadn't protected him.
Steve swore under his breath then, looking down at the carpet and Johnny swallowed hard, crossing his arms defensively. I kept picturing my little brother trying to fight against a grown man...he wouldn't stand a chance. Obviously. "Those boys think the foster father, Richard, has something to do with the girl….with Ponyboy disappearing." Disappearing. It was the closest I could come.
"The kid's fine." Dally spoke up, like he could read my mind. "He's tough. No way that asshole got him."
I felt my grip on this calm facade falling away, my hands starting to shake. My brother was gone my brother was gone my brother was gone. "They found his jacket by that girl's grave Dally. Covered in blood. The guy that beat on Pony...they think he was the one that killed her." I didn't want to believe it. But what else could I think? My little brother had...what? Seen them kill her? Or maybe they'd attacked them both and Pony had gotten away for a day or two? Either way, what were the odds that Ponyboy had evaded this guy and all of his friends for days without turning up? My stomach churned and I swallowed bile, flinching at the taste and the burn as it went down. Ponyboy had been all-alone, a bunch of homicidal maniacs after him...how could a fifteen year old kid win against his sadistic foster father and all his buddies?
"Could have been anybody's blood." He told me, calm as anything.
I leaned forward then, slamming my hand down on the table so hard the room seemed to shake, and he went real still, eyeing me again. I wanted to yell...to scream and throw a punch. But none of it mattered. My brother was gone. Something had happened and I hadn't been there to protect him. That man...he'd killed the girl and apparently my brother knew or had seen him, and then they'd probably killed him too. What other explanation was there? It hit me then, full in the stomach, and I put my hand against my mouth, doubling over on the sofa. He was dead. Ponyboy was dead. My baby brother...I hadn't protected him. I hadn't looked out for him. I'd hit him and now he was dead. No way he could have eluded all of them for this long, not without help, and he hadn't had anyone to help him. He was gone. My little brother was gone!
Soda seemed to break beside me. It felt like I'd been the only thing holding us together, and now I couldn't do it anymore. Soda slumped on the sofa, his face in his hands, while Steve did his best to comfort him, his hand on my brother's back. I wanted to lie down. I wanted to crawl into bed and turn out the lights and sleep until it was over. I couldn't live with this...not without Pony. Even if we'd never gotten custody again, at least we would have seen him after he turned eighteen. Now...I couldn't bear it. I reached out blindly, finding a beer bottle on the table beside me and threw it against the wall with as much force as I could manage, feeling a thrill of relief going through me when it shattered.
"What the hell is the matter with you?" Dally snapped, jumping out of his chair.
"Give it a rest, Dal." Two-Bit snapped, but Dally moved forward, grabbing me by the arm, and I had to fight not to punch him again. It wasn't his fault...not really...but he'd kept this from us. He'd found Ponyboy and he knew they were hurting him and he hadn't told us. If he'd have just taken me to Pony's house…if I could have seen him again…maybe I could have saved him. Dal shoved me back so I was sitting up and shook me like you would a misbehaving kid. When he spoke, his voice was low and desperate, his face too close to mine.
"You can't do this. Do you hear me? That kid's gonna need you when he get's back. Hell, he needs you now, Darrel!"
"He ain't coming back, Dal!" I bit out, jumping to my feet and letting myself say the words, shoving him backwards in the process. "He's gone. My little brother is gone!" My voice broke then, but I kept going. "And it's my fault. The people the state put him with beat the shit out of him and tortured him and…and killed him." I was crying, tears hot as they dripped down my chin, but I didn't care. The pain came in waves and I couldn't escape it. This was too much. "He was fifteen and they killed him."
He shook his head; jaw tight as he looked between me and the guys, then grabbed my arm again, ignoring me when I tried to shake him off. He was asking for it. "The kid ain't dead, Darry." He told me quietly, shaking me again.
I shook my head, sick of the fake hope and the desperation and the pretending that everything would be okay. "Dally, they found…"
"The kid ain't dead!" He was silent for a long time them, seeming to fight with himself as he stared at me. The room went quiet then as we waited for Dally to explain himself. He kept his hands on my arms, squeezing firmly. When he spoke, it was just above a whisper like he was afraid someone would overhear. "Look...he showed up at Buck's Monday morning...early. He was begging me...said he had to get out of town or that asshole was going to kill him. So I got him out of town."
The silence in the room was deafening. Then Soda jumped to his feet, his face so chalky white I was scared he was gonna fall over or pass out.
"You tell me where he is, right now, or I swear to God I'll…"
"You'll what!" Dally snapped, whirling around, and Soda stood nose to nose with our friend while the rest of us just stood around, struck dumb. He wasn't dead. My brother was still alive. He was okay. He'd gone to Dally, and Dally had helped him. My legs gave out and I dropped onto the sofa again, the terrible knot in my chest releasing. My brother wasn't gone. My brother was alive. I was crying again, my hands covering my face as I slumped forward, but Dallas was still yelling. "Go get him? Take him back to that place? Call the cops? That bastard will kill him, you idiot!"
"What are you talking about, kill him?" Johnny's voice cut through his tirade as he too jumped to his feet, pale and wide-eyed. "Dally? Who wants to kill him?" I realized that he didn't know the whole story…of course he didn't. And apparently I didn't either. Dally deflated a little, faced with an almost crying Sodapop and a frightened Johnny. He sighed again, running a hand through his hair and turning to me.
"What did those kids tell you about Ponyboy running away, Darrel?" I took a long moment to catch my breath, my heart pounding in my ears. He was alive. Dally had helped him somehow. I owed Dally…I owed him big. After a minute, I gestured for Soda to sit back down. He did, dropping beside me and leaning on my shoulder while Dally shoved his hands in his pockets, staying where he was and waiting for my reply. I did my best to remember…to get it all right so maybe it would start making sense.
"They said that Ponyboy, his foster-sister, and his foster father, Rick, were all off somewhere. They saw Rick come in Monday morning, early, covered in blood." Here Steve jerked his head up, staring at me instead of at his hands. I always knew he cared, I thought with grim amusement. It was the only kind of amusement I could manage at the moment. "He said he was gonna kill Ponyboy...take care of him. The girl never came back, and they didn't report Ponyboy missing until the next night. The girl neither, I don't guess."
"You think they were the ones that killed the girl and...and what? Tried to kill Pony?" Two-Bit choked out, aghast. Dally nodded his head before I could answer.
"They tried, but they couldn't find him. The kid got away." He told us quietly, sighing again.
I was so tired all of a sudden…I wanted to lie down. But more than that, I needed to know what had happened. I needed to hear again that my little brother was okay. "He's alive?"
"He's alive." Dallas told me, softening a little. It wasn't enough though.
"How can you be sure?" I needed to know.
"I just talked to him on the phone a few days ago." I sat back then, closing my eyes for a long moment and then rubbing them, doing my best to stop crying.
"What'd you do, Dal?" I demanded, needing the whole story straight. He sighed, crossing his arms and speaking to all of us, but looking straight at me.
"Kid came to me on Monday morning early...I guess he took the bus over here. Showed up at Bucks with a black eye and a bad cut on his face, crying and carrying on that he had to get out. I got him to tell me…" Here he glanced at Johnny, then continued, eyes on the ground. "He was hiding out at some bar, I guess trying to stay out of that bastard's way. He saw 'em take that girl, Lianne, out behind the bar. Rick and some of his friends. I'm guessing at least one was a cop. They killed the girl out there...I don't know if that's all they did to her." He breathed out, a long sigh. "Kid was in shock...couldn't tell me much. Or wouldn't. She was only thirteen, man."
He shook his head. Soda was green, and I assumed Two-Bit was thinking of his own sister, because he sat down hard in the chair Dally had vacated. Pony had seen them...who knew what they'd done to the poor girl...what my brother had seen them do to her. I thought back to the boys that had stopped by...about the other foster sister. About what that asshole had done to her...my brother must have known about that too.
"They saw Ponyboy there." Steve mumbled, his eyes closing as he put it together, and Dally nodded.
"Yeah. He said he almost didn't get away. That cut was new, and so was the black eye. He was all bruised up too. I told him you two had a court date...he said that if I didn't help him get out, he wouldn't make it to the court date." I closed my eyes, dropping my head into my hands. He was alive. Dally knew where he was. Glory, I was exhausted.
"Where'd you send him?" Johnny asked in a small voice, his arms crossed tight over his chest. He was still standing, peering up at Dally almost fearfully. Dal softened a bit, going back to looking bored.
"To stay with an old buddy. Gave him some money...he'll be alright for a while." Dally was watching me when I glanced up at him, and suddenly he was defensive. "I couldn't risk bringing him here, not with that nutcase after him. He's buddies with all the cops in that town and he's sticking it in the social worker...which is probably why she was never in the office when you tried calling." I closed my eyes, digging the heels of my hands into my eyes like I'd seen Ponyboy do when he was working on homework and couldn't figure out the answer. Just that though ached. I hadn't protected him. I hadn't protected my little brother, and he'd been put with a man that beat him...that tortured him. And now there was nothing I could do to help him.
"We've only got three months until that court date." Soda whispered. "It's our chance to get him back."
"Hey, are you guys forgetting something?" Steve finally snapped, looking around. "You said the guy put out cigarettes on the kid's arm?" I nodded, not even wanting to think about that at the moment. When I got Pony back...when I could see him in front of me...then I would take care of that. "Well, I know that leaves a scar. There's evidence. Those other kids…"
"Ain't gonna say a word against that man...they're finally getting out of that house. They told us they wouldn't testify against him." I told him wearily.
"Fine. What about that girl? Ponyboy can tell the cops what happened to her. Right? That's pretty solid proof."
"Yeah? Who's to say Pony didn't do it and pin it on that guy?" When Steve of all people gave Dal a dirty look, he curled his hands into fists. "We all know Ponyboy wouldn't kill anyone, but the reason he got sent away was because he was involved in stabbing some other kid, right? And if Ricky the bastard has those cops in his pocket, you think they're gonna let themselves get implicated in this?"
"We need a cop." Two-Bit finally spoke up, laughing a little. "Can't believe I'm saying this...but man do we need a cop. Maybe a lawyer too."
"Yeah? And what if we trust the wrong cop?" Steve demanded.
"You don't know where the kid even is." Dally reminded us. "And I ain't gonna tell em where he is. Tell him he called you and told you all this shit. Hell, there ain't no way he left a trail. They ain't gonna find him unless they dig real deep and real far. We just gotta give em some false leads...maybe tell them he hauled ass to California. Everybody else is. That way, even if we do spill it to a cop we can't trust, they won't be able to find the kid."
"So...we find a cop?" I asked, shaking my head. "Tell them we know what happened to that girl? Cause...why? Cause Ponyboy called us and told us all this."
"Yeah. And you find your old social worker too...maybe she can do some digging. You got a better plan?" I shook my head, at a loss. All I wanted to do was find that man and put a knife in him. He beat up kids, but I'd bet he'd never taken on someone his own size. Or bigger. I wouldn't mind showing off my muscles on the man who'd hurt my brother.
"If we get Pony to testify, somehow, that he saw Rick and those cops kill the girl, and if the social worker finds something...and if we can find a cop that believes us...that's a lot of 'if's.'" Soda reminded him.
"Well, plan B is to get Tim and the gang and go to war with them, but since he's got a pretty good chunk of the police force on his side…" Dally shrugged, trailing off.
"Yeah, what about the police?" Two-Bit asked.
"Surely the whole force can't be in on this." I shook my head, having to doubt that. "There has to be someone higher up who ain't in on it. We just gotta find out who…"
"Oh...Sodapop, Darry?" Dal asked, reaching into his pocket. "The kid, he asked me to give you these." He told us, holding out the envelopes. Soda snatched his immediately, ripping it open. I went slower, swallowing hard before I took the envelope from Dal. I didn't open it though...instead I watched Soda unfold his...it was a piece of notebook paper, but judging from the way Soda's hands started shaking, it was more than that.
Steve leaned in, getting a look too, and when he saw what it was, he went real still. Wordlessly, Soda stared at the paper, hands almost holding it too tight.
"Soda?" I asked when his fingers dug into the paper, and he immediately loosened his grip. Instead of explaining himself, he handed it over, and I stared at the picture of my brother and Steve, both leaning against Steve's truck, both laughing and grinning, eyes bright. Above the picture in the margin he'd written 'Happy Birthday, Sodapop.'
"Kid's one hell of an artist." Steve mumbled when the others crowded around to get a look, all but Dally who stayed where he was.
"Yeah...yeah, he is." Soda grinned, obviously fighting back the tears again. "He can draw just about anything. Looks just like you, Steve." His buddy nodded, the smile tight and almost grim. I handed the drawing back and opened my own, knowing it was probably a birthday card. He'd missed both of our birthdays...and we'd missed his. The only question was, what had he drawn for me? He and Soda had always been close...but after our parents, my relationship with my youngest brother had seemed to go downhill quick. Trying to be his parent had not gone over well, and it seemed like all we ever did was fight, all leading up to that night. What would he draw? Me, standing over him, yelling at him? Me, arm drawn back, ready to hit him. I didn't know if I could bear it.
"Darry? What'd he draw for you?" Soda asked. I readied myself. It was probably just the words 'happy birthday.' That would be fine. I'd get a chance to make this up to him...all of it. I had to. I couldn't lose Ponyboy...not my baby brother who'd followed me and Soda around like a puppy for his entire childhood. Not my smart, funny kid brother that skipped a grade in school and smoked too much. I couldn't bear losing him.
I unfolded the drawing and felt my eyes get hot immediately. I wasn't angry. I wasn't yelling. I was fishing. And I remembered that day. We'd been at the lake with Dad, Soda on Ponyboy's other side. It had only been a few years, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. He'd started getting tired of fishing, sighing and moving around and goofing off with Soda as usual. "You'll scare all the fish." I'd told him, but not angry and worried like I always seemed to be after our parents. Teasing. I'd reached over, punching him in the shoulder. He was my baby brother.
"There ain't no fish to scare!" He's whined, making Soda laugh. Just then, his eyes had gotten wide, a comical, started look coming over his face as his rod had almost been yanked from his hand. "Hey!" He'd cried, going from startled to excited, and my face was exactly as he'd captured it. In the drawing, I was holding the fishing rod loosely in one hand, my attention on my little brother as he'd scrambled to reel in his catch, our dad's hand on his shoulder. My eyes were every bit as happy and bright as Soda's, my shoulders relaxed, my lips turned up...I'd almost been laughing but not quite. And Ponyboy got every bit of it on paper.
My brother wasn't gone.
Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!