A Case For Concern

Chapter 10

Memories

XXX

I was tired. It had been a long, grueling day already, and Sandy's letter only made it worse. Darry was doing the dishes, and I was trying to clean up my side of the room - ready to collapse into bed the minute I was done. I took several side glances at Pony, who sat at his desk doing the point-over-eraser- flip thing with his pencil again, staring at that blank notebook. I was beginning to get a little annoyed with Ponyboy about this now, as I didn't see what the big friggin deal was; Mr. Symes just wanted a story, and Pony was good with stories as much as he read them. He could turn a cloud into a story if he wanted to. Still, he didn't tell me how to change spark plugs in an engine, I didn't tell him how to do his homework.

An audible groan came from Pony's direction, and he flung his pencil in the far recesses of the desk. I watched as he rubbed his eyes, stretched, and looked at the stacks of books next to him. He had books everywhere, and had read every one of them. You could tell which were his favorites by their location and amount of wear the covers had endured. Books he'd read but didn't like were on the bottom of the stacks. He was even going through Darry's collection of novels, now. Darry let him, even if they were above his level. Not like I had any books to give him, automotive magazines weren't really his thing.

There was one book that was still sort of new, sitting on a shelf- alone – that he didn't touch. Johnny's copy of Gone With The Wind. Two-Bit had bought it for Johnny on Pony's request the first morning after they returned from Windrixville. Apparently, Pony had planned to read it to Johnny while Johnny got better in the hospital, but had died before a single word could be uttered. Two-Bit had bawled his eyes out explaining this to us later, and had to go over it a few times before either Darry or I could understand him.

That night. I didn't want to remember it, but my mind returned there anyway. Pony had collapsed after Dal was shot up. The ambulance that was supposed to take Dally to the hospital ended up carting Pony there instead. The living, afterall, take precedent over the dead. Darry and I rode in the back with him, the guys were coming in Steve's car once they made it back to his house from the lot. I held his limp hand while Darry reached over and kept patting his knee.

The workers in the ambulance didn't leave us much to hold, they were busy putting things on him.... an oxygen mask, taking his blood pressure and then one came out with a needle to put in his arm. Apparently he was dehydrated and needed fluids. All I knew is my younger brother was talking an hour before all this, and now wasn't even responding to my voice. Not that I was talking real clear... I was blubbering like an idiot trying to get Pony to wake up, while fearing the whole time that he never would.

They took him to the emergency room, did all sorts of stuff, and another hour later Ponyboy was admitted and sent to a room upstairs; which - as if irony needed any further help, was down the hall where Johnny's body still lay.

As we went down the hall following Pony's stretcher to his room, we passed a door that was partially open, where I could glimpse Mr. and Mrs. Cade, and what looked like a body covered by a sheet on the bed. Mr. Cade was silently writing on a clipboard, while Mrs. Cade was looking out the window. Neither of them spoke. At least in death, Johnny finally earned their silence. I, however was ready to scream. My worry about Pony now mixed with my despair about Johnny.

Darry gently grabbed my elbow and kept me going down the hall. He saw, but had no reaction other than his hand on my arm, who the people were in that room. Neither Darry nor I got to see Johnny while he was still alive, not realizing how badly he really was hurt. If I had known I would never get a chance to thank him for saving Ponyboy's life that night, then keeping him safe for the week; things would have gone differently. I would have found a way to visit. But, we all thought he'd get better. We all took our hits but were invincible - after all. We were wrong. We were so wrong.

"Excuse me," a nurse whispered from behind us as Pony was brought into his room. The nurses, for whatever reason, wanted me and Darry to step out while they transferred him to his bed. Apparently, Pony was gonna be naked while they moved him and checked him over once more. It wasn't like neither of us had seen him running around commando style before, but neither of us wanted to get in the nurses way, either - so out into the hall we went. "Is that Ponyboy Curtis? The friend of Jonathan Cade, who came by to see him earlier today?"

I just looked at her, still too upset to speak.

"Yes ma'am. That's Ponyboy, we're his brothers, and we're all close buddies with Johnny. I heard he, um, he's passed on." Darry quietly said, a hitch in his voice that only I noticed, but he stayed as steady as a rock.

"I thought I recognized him. I'm sorry, yes, Mr. Cade passed away this evening." The nurse looked nervous, glancing down the empty hall as she spoke with us. Suddenly the door down the hall opened and the Cades walked out, not seeing us. Darry pulled me closer to him, I think to keep me quiet as they went down the hall. In doing so, I could hear a sob hit him inside, but he swallowed hard and remained steady. My own tears were running lose on their own - uncontrolled and unrestrained. I laid my head on Darry's chest and felt him rub the back of my head for a minute. The bell to the elevator dinged, and the Cades left the floor. Then the nurse seemed to relax a little. I guessed, sarcastically, that his parents left that loving impression for their only son everywhere they went.

"It's going to be a few minutes while they get Ponyboy settled in," the nurse explained, "then we can move Jonathan downstairs. He asked me to give Ponyboy something, made me promise not to tell his parents about it. After meeting them, I can see why. It's still in his room. If you'll give me a second, I'll go get it and give to you."

"May I come with you. I'm pretty sure his folks won't have a funeral that we can go to. They don't exactly see things the same way we do. I just want to..."

"That's fine," she interrupted Darry, waving away the rest of his words. Of all the medical people we'd ever met, she seemed to understand. "It's a quiet night, all the other families have gone home. Only a minute, though, while the other nurses are distracted with Ponyboy."

She led us to Johnny's room, where he lay under the sheet on the bed. Darry reached for it, then hesitated. I turned my head, ashamed and afraid to look. The doc said he had been burned, I wasn't sure I could handle that.

"His face wasn't harmed, just his chest and arms." The nurse sort of read my mind. "It was too much for him to survive, though; and his back...." her voice trailed off.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Darry pull the sheet back. He winced, then I saw a tear slide from his eye, dropping somewhere on the sheets below. I mustered the courage and looked too. Johnny looked worn and thin... tired. Like he needed a good, long rest.

"Sleep well, Johnny. And thank you, for bringing Ponyboy home to us. You did good, kid. Real good." Darry's quiet words even brought tears to the nurse standing nearby. I heard her sniff, then all was silent again. Darry gently touched the top of Johnny's head, brushing his hair out of his closed eyes for the last time, then turned away.

"Night, Johnny. Thanks," was all I could force out of my throat. Even that was choked. I didn't care that I was quietly sobbing like a baby. My thoughts returned to Pony, and I prayed desperately that this fate wouldn't be repeated later on.

The nurse handed me a box of tissues, which I had used to mop up my tears and tried to return to something resembling my old self. She then handed Darry something that he pocketed. Later, as the four of us sat numbed and silent in Pony's hospital room, the thing was forgotten. Not until Darry carried Pony into the house did I see what it was, as Darry sat it on the desk next to Pony's side of the bed. It was that unread copy of Gone With The Wind. It sat there untouched the whole week as Pony lay in bed, delirious at first, then slowly getting better. When he was finally able to get out of bed again, he simply put it on a shelf by itself, not wanting – perhaps not even able - to deal with it, and all it meant.

Now, several weeks later, I watched as his eyes returned to that book. I got up, unable to stay unless asked to.

"I thought you were going to bed, Soda." Darry said as he let the dish water drain from the sink.

"I am. Eventually. What's on TV tonight?" I wanted something to numb my brain with.

"'Gunsmoke,' 'The Honeymooners,' or the ever-popular 'I Love Lucy.' What's your choice?" he grinned at me.

I grabbed some aspirin and swallowed them with a gulp of water, and his look changed to one of concern. "None of the above, really," I said.

"You okay?" he paused a second, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he leaned against the sinks. "I saw the letter you dropped. What, um.. what did Sandy say?"

I looked at him, his eyes searched my face, but I shrugged. "It's over. Time to move on."

"I'm sorry, Soda. I know that's gotta hurt. It's for the best, though."

"Yeah. It's a kick in the balls, alright."

The door opened and Pony came out. He reached for the phone in the living room, and I glanced at the clock. It was nearly ten at night, who the heck is he calling now? Neither Darry nor I moved as we listened in.

"...That theme – how long can it be? …. Can it be longer?..... Thanks."

He hung up the phone and went back to his room. I heard his chair squeak and books getting shuffled. I looked at Darry and shook my head, going to the living room to crash for a bit. Darry came and sat in his chair, flipping the paper open to read. I had to have dozed off, because Darry was shaking me some.

"Soda, come on, buddy. It's late. Time for bed."

I opened my eyes, blinking at the clock. It was nearly midnight. I stumbled to the bedroom, Pony still at his desk, pen in hand, still going strong. "Pony, come on. Time for sleep. Work on it in the morning, will ya?"

"Can't. I got school in the morning."

"Yet another reason to put that to rest." His hand kept going with that pen. I don't know what story idea he came up with, but not even the late hour was making him stop. He wasn't even looking up. "Ponyboy, I'm serious. Turn out the light and come to bed."

He turned to look at me, then gave me that defeated look. His pen fell in his composition book and he quickly went to brush his teeth and change into his night clothes. I was asleep before he even got in bed.

XXX

I looked in their room, Soda was out and softly snoring, Pony was laying on his side, away from him. The sun was just peaking in the broken blinds in their window. I crept around to Pony's desk to see what the sam hill he was working on, but before I could begin to figure it out, Pony woke up and shot out of bed, slamming the cover of the composition book shut.

"I ain't done with it yet."

He looked so serious that it made me smile.

"Okay, calm down there, little buddy. You don't want me to proof read it for you?"

He looked somewhat hesitant, then shook his head. "No. Not, um... not right now. Thanks, though." It didn't escape me that he kept his hand on the cover of the composition book.

"What's with all the noise?" Soda was sitting up now, blinking back the light shining in his eyes.

I headed off to the kitchen for some coffee, with a chipper "get up and get ready for school and work, guys," being flung over my shoulder.

Soda came down the hall and ducked into the shower while Pony came and got some cereal. I slapped two pieces of bread in the toaster for him to eat, too.

"Got any tests today, Ponyboy?"

He slurped on the milk and crunched on the toast. "Um hmm," he nodded. "Science and history."

"Ready for them?" It had been a long night last night, I know he didn't have much study time, what with our romp around the park and the long overdue heart to heart we all had.

"I think so. Mrs. Norris is off on the Civil War again, and Mr. Bolston is all into Newton. I think I got it straight enough to do well."

"Do your best, okay little buddy?"

He looked at me, then gave a half hearted grin. "I always do my best, Darry. Just cause it ain't an "A" don't mean I didn't try."

"Doesn't mean, Pony, " I corrected.

"Whatever," he rolled his eyes and got up, taking his bowl to the sink, washing it as Soda made his exit from the bath room. They swapped places with Soda grabbing a fast peanut better and jelly sandwich while Pony had his turn in the shower. He was fast this morning, faster than I expected him to be. I was just wondering what parts of his body he missed when he bolted out the door to ride with Two-Bit and Steve. "Bye, Darry!" he called.

"See ya, Pone!" I called back.

XXX

"Thanks for the ride, Two-Bit." I hopped out of his car when he dropped me off at the house after school. At least Darry would be happy, I made an "A" on my history test and a "B+" on my science test. I wasn't very good at that whole Newton thing, but I did remember the three laws Newton had. I just forgot one stupid part of the formula. Otherwise, I'd have done better. Still, it was the best I could do, and that was that. Besides, I had other things on my mind. I grabbed the mail out of the box and dropped it on the table, made a bathroom pit stop then went right back to my essay.

I had to re-read it to make sure I hadn't left anything out, then picked right up where I left off. I didn't even notice the hours going by, but Soda was suddenly in the room, looking mad at me.

"Ponyboy, Darry is gonna whup you! Did you forget it's your night to cook? He'll be home any minute."

I looked at the clock. Oops. I put my pen down and headed off toward the kitchen while Soda went to wash the grease off his skin. As I got the water boiling for my usual fast and easy dinner of spaghetti, I heard the door open and close, and knew it was Darry.

"Hey, Pone. How was school?" he said in a tired voice as he searched the fridge for something to drink.

"Okay. I made an "A" on my history test."

"Very good. How bout science?"

"Um, well, a "B+." I should have started with the science grade first so I could end on a higher note. Drat!

He looked at me, the old look of Nothing but an "A" will do, plastered all over his face. But instead, he just nodded his head. "Try harder on your next test, see if that wont improve things."

"Okay." I didn't really know what else to say, and he left it at that.

When dinner was done, I went back to that theme. I was at a tough part, trying to remember feelings I had and to put them to paper, but it was hard, harder than I thought it would be. I trudged through it, wiping away the tears those memories conjured up. They wouldn't be the only tears I had while writing this.

Eventually, Soda was back in the room, insisting I turn out the light again. I didn't want to, now that I was on a roll, I didn't want to stop.

"Come on, Ponyboy, it's Friday night. Remember, no school tomorrow? Give that a rest, so I can rest."

I sighed, once again putting my pen down. Flipping the switch, I settled into bed. My mind, however, was still busy with my essay. Once all the lights were off in the house, and I knew Darry was asleep in his own bed, I crept over and took my composition book and pen to the kitchen table where I could work on it uninterrupted through the night. I never noticed the hours pass by.

XXX

Saturday. No work. At least not until tonight when I had to go to the warehouse for the weekly truck delivery. Still, I had the day off, and looked forward to being lazy for a change. This was the first day in weeks I didn't have to do anything or be anywhere. The last few Saturdays, Soda and I had spent them either canvassing area's of Tulsa I never thought I would go into, or sitting in a chair at the hospital.

I lay in bed thinking about it, what we – all of us- had endured. Certainly our struggles to find him paled in what he went through, but it was still hard on all of us. My own demons never let up, knowing if I hadn't hit him - none of this would ever have happened. I shoved that feeling down deep, knowing the past was something I couldn't change... no matter how guilty I felt about it. I had to move on and deal with the cards I had left.

He was back, alive, awake, and getting better. Little by little, the old Ponyboy was coming back. God, how I missed him.

I pulled the blankets off me and sat up, rubbing my face and scratching my chest. Time to get up and resume my head of household responsibilities again. Life - it sure can be a bitch sometimes.

I headed to the kitchen only to get a surprise. Ponyboy was sitting... no, laying, sound asleep on the table. His hand was paused, pen still wrapped in his fingers, on an open composition book while his head lay in the crook of his other arm. How long had he been here?

"Pone? Ponyboy, wake up." I gently shook him, he stirred but didn't wake. His arm was cold, too. I picked him up, glad to notice he had managed to put some weight back on his frame over the last few weeks, and returned him to his room.

"Soda, here, I found a wandering soul asleep in the kitchen." Soda opened his eyes as I carried Pony in the room and laid him back in bed. We covered him up, and I noticed with a smile how he just instinctively curled into a ball.

"He's cold," Soda said, touching his arms. He looked at me, concerned.

"He was in the kitchen writing that essay of his. Any idea what time he got out of bed?"

Soda got up, pulling the blankets closer to Pony, and grabbed a pair of jeans from his dresser. We went to the kitchen to talk while Pony slept in.

"I dunno. I had him turn out the light around eleven. I wasn't awake for much longer. It's been one hell of a week, I'm glad it's over."

"Me too, Pepsi. Me too."

XXX

Calla Lilly Rose