On a Long Road
11. Phone Calls
I clean up the mud in the house before Mrs. Hartridge comes home, but she must notice something, because she's more grouchy than usual. Maybe I missed a spot or maybe it is because of my dirty clothes in the laundry bin.
"I'm workin' long days," she says, "and then I have to come home to this mess?"
I lean carefully against the wall in the kitchen, staring down at the floor as she slams the dishes around that Andrew and I left after lunch. She doesn't mention my face, and I don't either; her eyes only widened slightly when she first saw me, but after that, there was no reaction from her. I guess she just doesn't care, or maybe Mr. James already told her what happened.
Dinner that evening is awkward. We're all quiet, trying not to clatter with our cutlery. Usually Mr. and Mrs. Hartridge make a little small talk, even if they don't include me, but now they don't even look at each other. I sit in my spot and try to chew and swallow, but it's getting harder and harder. At the end of the meal, half of my food is left on the plate, but Mrs. Hartridge doesn't say anything about that either.
My nightmares come back that night. I wake up screaming and crying, but no one comes into my room to see if I'm okay. I sit up in bed, with my heart beating wildly and trying to calm myself down by taking deep breaths through my mouth since my nose doesn't work, but it seems to be impossible. It's the old nightmare, the one I can't remember, and I almost choke on the air as I try to drag it down.
Eventually, after what feels like hours, it feels a bit better, but I can't fall asleep again. I'm a bit surprised that I did it in the first place; my back hurts, and my face. It's worse now than it was before.
Early in the morning I give up and climb out of bed, but I don't go out to the kitchen until I'm sure Mrs. Hartridge has left. Instead I just sit smoking, trying to read until I hear the front door being shut, knowing I'm alone in the house. Then I leave my room. My eyebrows raise slightly when I find my breakfast on the kitchen table - I didn't think she would do that. But I sit down and eat most of it even if it's cold now. Mr. James doesn't show up the whole time.
My shoes look terrible. They really should have bought me new ones from the beginning if they want me working on the farm. I stand in the hallway, debating with myself whether I should walk out there anyway, but then I decide not to. I don't care if they are going to be mad at me. Instead I go to the bathroom and rummage through the cabinet for aspirins, and I find some and take them before going back to bed.
xXx
I ended up alone all day yesterday, the only one checking up on me was Andrew, and he just came by really quickly at lunch, and then headed out again. Apparently some things had been destroyed in the storm, and they had to make sure all the animals were okay. But no one said anything about my absence.
As I sit with my breakfast, Andrew pops into the kitchen, nodding at Nancy who stands drinking coffee by the counter before turning to me.
"We're goin' to town today," he says.
"Tulsa?" I ask, my hope rising. Maybe I can go see my brothers...
"No. Muskogee's closer."
"Oh."
Something must have shown in my face, because Andrew seems a little uncomfortable, and Mrs. Hartridge snorts as she dumps the rest of her coffee into the sink and walks away.
"Yeah, well, get ready in five, okay?" Andrew says, sounding a bit out of faze.
I nod before drinking the rest of my orange juice. I guess I should be at least happy that I can get out of here, even if it's just for a short while.
It's about a half an hour ride to Muskogee, and I close my eyes and lean back in the seat. It feels so good to be away from the farm, I can even ignore the pain I feel almost everywhere. But it's harder to ignore it later when we run all our errands and people stare at me as they walk past me. I guess the bruises look kind of nasty. With a sigh, Andrew takes off his hat and places it on my head instead, and then it gets a little better. I make sure to keep my eyes on the ground too.
We fill the truck with bags of dog food and then Andrew buys some medicine for one of the cows. Now and then people he knows stop us on the street to talk to him, and sometimes I hear my name being mentioned.
"That's Ponyboy, he's Donald's and Nancy's foster kid," Andrew says to them, and they say hello and I nod awkwardly. I'm still not used to the words, even though more than seven months have passed since Ms. West took me from my home.
We get groceries and beers and a bottle of vodka, and new cigarettes for me since I smoked my last cigarette yesterday. Andrew usually goes into town alone when necessary, and always brings back cigarettes for me, but I get why he told me to come today when he takes me to a shoe shop to get me a pair of boots.
"How do they feel?" he wonders when we're out on the street again. There is a trash can on the curb, and he opens the lid and throws my old tennis shoes away. I couldn't get them clean again, even though I tried.
"They feel all right." I can't believe how nice he is to me, he's not like his dad at all. And he does stuff for me he shouldn't have to do, without even being asked. Some of the things - like buying me new shoes - should've been done by the Hartridge's and not him.
We reach the parking lot, and while opening the car door, Andrew turns to me again.
"Need anythin' else?"
I remember the pay phone we walked past earlier. "You have some change?" I ask, feeling a bit bad for it. He has done so much for me already, but I can't let this opportunity go.
"Sure."
He digs into his pocket and hands me a few coins. There aren't many, but I hope it will be enough. I take them and rush down the street, almost bumping into people, but I don't stop to apologize. All I can think of is Soda and Darry's voices.
I reach the phone and lift the receiver, punching in our home number. I can't wait to finally talk to them. I miss them so much.
Two minutes later I slowly hang up, feeling devastated. No one answered. But it's Saturday and maybe they are both at work. I can't call Darry since I don't know where he's working today, but I know the number to the DX. I count the coins in my hand, then put another one of them into the slot and wait.
"Welcome to the DX, how can I help you?" The voice is bored, and it's not Soda's.
"Soda there?" I hurry to say.
"He's out in the garage."
"Can you go get him?"
First, the person is silent for a long time, but I hear voices in the background so I know he hasn't hung up. I put in another coin, but he has to hurry, or my money will run out. Then the voice is back.
"You have to call back later, 'kay?"
I almost get desperate. "I can't call back later! Just go get him, please."
"Shit, kid, calm down. I can't leave the counter, there are helluva long line... wait a sec."
He's gone again, and I have to put the last of my change in a minute later. I close my eyes as I realize he won't come back in time, and even if he does go and get Soda, I won't have the time to talk to him. There's no point in trying anymore, and I sigh when the signal that I need to put more money in comes, and then the line goes dead.
I slowly walk back to the truck, and when I climb inside, Andrew just gives me a look, but he doesn't say anything. I guess he figured it out what I was doing. The whole ride back, we're both quiet.
xXx
I have just emptied the wheelbarrow on the manure slope and turn around to go inside again, when Mr. James steps up and grabs my arm. I didn't even see him coming, but I drop the handles of the barrow, closing my eyes instinctual as I try to jerk myself free. But his grip is too firm, and he drags me closer.
"Not a fuckin' word!" he hisses into my ear.
"What?"
"Make sure you tell her it was an accident."
His eyes bore into mine, and all I can do is nod quickly, even though I have no idea what he's talking about. With a snort he lets go of me, and then tells me to come with him. He stomps away through the barn and I follow him slowly, feeling really nervous, but as we walk up to the Hartridge's house, I realize what this is about. There is a car in front of the house, and Ms. West stands beside it.
"Hello, Ponyboy," she starts, but then she makes a double take and frowns. "What happened to your face?"
I hear Mr. James chuckle beside me. "You know young boys," he says, but Ms. West keeps her attention on me.
"Ponyboy?"
"It was an accident," I say quietly, like Mr. James told me to. I wait for her to ask me more about it, but she doesn't.
"Where are Mr. and Mrs. Hartridge?" she just asks instead.
"Um. Mrs. Hartridge is at work. Mr. Hartridge is out in the fields," I tell her.
"Is it possible that they can come?"
I glance at Mr. James. He looks a bit irritated, but I guess that only shows if you know him. But he agrees to go get my foster father, and in the meantime, Ms. West and I go inside. I show her into the kitchen, and we sit down.
"Do you like it here, Ponyboy?" she asks me while opening her portfolio and putting a bunch of papers on the table. I don't really know how to answer. I don't know how this works. She came a couple of times to talk to me when I stayed at the Collin's place too, but this is different. Now it really feels like I have things I should tell her. I bite my lip.
"Not really."
She leans back. "What's the problem?"
"I...um." I nervously rub my hands against my jeans. "They won't me let me call my brothers."
Her eyes narrow a bit as she studies me, and I shift uncomfortably under her stare.
"Yes, your brothers has been very... determined to find out where you are. They have called me every day, and that's one of the reasons I'm here today."
I close my eyes briefly, so relieved at first. I realize I already knew it - I know that they wouldn't just abandon me - but to actually hear that they have tried to reach me ... but it hurts, too. All this time, almost a month. That's the time we have missed having together, without even sharing a word.
"So you didn't ... you didn't tell them where I am?" I open my eyes again and look at her.
"No. You are my responsibility. I thought that maybe you had a reason for not telling them yourself. I encourage every contact with the family, but if the child doesn't want it, or could be in danger because of it, I don't give out any information."
"I wouldn't be in danger," I mumble. "But they won't let me use the phone."
"Maybe they think it's for your own good, but I will talk to them."
I nod, hoping they will listen to her. Then she changes the subject.
"So how did this accident happen?"
This is my chance to tell her, but I don't know. What will happen if I do? I hope she will let me go home, but maybe she'll just force me to stay or move me someplace else? What if the next place is even worse? But then again, they won't let me see Darry or Soda or even talk to them here, so maybe I should rat. My foster family would just have themselves to blame if they get in trouble for me telling on them. Feeling stubborn all of sudden, I put my chin out.
"It wasn't really an accident."
"It wasn't?"
I shake my head.
"Then what happened?"
"Mr. James hit me."
"Mr. James? That would be Mrs. Hartridge's brother?"
I nod.
"Are you sure he hit you?"
What kind of question is that? I frown a bit and say even firmer, "Yeah."
She sighs and slowly flip through the papers she has with her. Then she looks up, her eyes tired.
"You know I can't let you move back to your brothers?"
I feel a pang of pain in my stomach hearing those words.
"Okay," I say, and my voice trembles a bit.
"If this is not a good home environment, I will have to move you to another one, but you have already moved around a lot. This is your third home in seven months."
I don't know what I'm supposed to say, so I keep quiet.
"It doesn't look good that you get into trouble in every family I put you in. There is a possibility that you will end up in a boys home permanently if this continues. Do you understand that?"
It almost sounds as if she thinks it's my fault I have had to change homes. I avert my gaze and stare down at the table top, feeling warm.
"I will look into this, okay? I will talk to your foster parents."
"Okay," I say again, feeling how my mood sinks even more. It doesn't sound like she believes me. Maybe she thinks I just made it up, to be able to go home?
The front door suddenly opens up, and some minutes later, Mr. Hartridge comes into the kitchen too. He sits down next to me, tells Ms. West that his wife is working at the hospital and won't come home until later, and then they make some small talk about the farm and the summer season, until Ms. West gets serious again.
"You know you have a responsibility to keep Ponyboy safe while he stays in your house? Ponyboy just told me what happened to his face."
Mr. Hartridge glances at me and I blush and look away.
"What did he tell you?" Mr. Hartridge asks, but he seems oddly comfortable about the whole thing.
"According to Ponyboy, it was Mr. James, your wife's brother, who hit him."
My stomach turns. I wait for Mr. Hartridge to glare at me or start shouting, but to my surprise, he just makes a little sigh.
"That wasn't exactly what happened. Didn't he tell you everything?"
Ms. West looks at me, and the expression she has makes me understand she's on Mr. Hartridge's side already. There is no way I can get out of this, though, so I have to try to tell the truth.
"He hit me in the face 'cause his horse ran away from me," I say quietly.
"It was during the thunder storm last week," Mr. Hartridge adds gently, and folds his hands on the table in front of him. "Neil, or Mr. James, didn't hit Ponyboy. He was just pushing him away so he wouldn't get hurt when the horse reared up. Unfortunately, his elbow smacked into Ponyboy's face, but I assure you, it was a mere accident." He almost sound as he believes it himself.
"Did you take him to a doctor?" Ms. West wonders, making a little note in the papers before looking up.
"Mr. James' son Andrew helped Ponyboy. We couldn't drive anywhere, we had all the animals to take care of during the storm. A tree was struck by lightning, which fell over the fence around the distal pasture and it caused an emergency action to fix it up. I'm sorry, Ms. West, I realize now we should have taken him to the hospital, but his nose ain't broken. And my wife is a nurse, she checked him over once she got home. He's fine."
"I'm happy to hear that, Mr. Hartridge," Ms. West smiles, and I dip my head, trying to catch my breath. She believes him, not me. I shouldn't have said anything, how could I have been so stupid?
I don't listen much to what they say next, I'm so nervous about what will happen, what Mr. James will do to me when Ms. West is gone again. I wish Andrew had been here, maybe he could tell what really happened. Or maybe he wouldn't. It's about his dad, after all.
"All right," Ms. West says finally. "It's time for me to go. It was very nice to meet you both again."
Mr. Hartridge and I follow her out to her car, and he puts a hand on my shoulder, as if to show her we're good. I keep staring down at the ground. I feel so betrayed. What's the point saying anything if they don't believe me? I remember the other social worker, what was her name? Mrs. Burton. She gave me a card and said to call immediately if I needed something. But here, I can't even use the phone, and my words mean nothing.
The thought of the phone makes me jerk my head up.
"What about my brothers?" I say at the same time Ms. West climbs into her car.
"Oh, right!" She looks at Mr. Hartridge. "It would be good if you'd let Ponyboy call his brothers at least once a week," she says.
He promises her to let me do that, and then she drives away. I stare after the car, unable to move, but Mr. Hartridge doesn't do anything, or say anything, he just walks away, leaving me there.
I don't know when I start to move again. Maybe it was only after a minute, maybe half an hour. I go back to the barn since I wasn't finished with my task. I see Mr. Hartridge and Mr. James standing talking outside the open doors, and they both look at me as I approach. I nearly turn around and run, but I know I have to meet Mr. James sooner or later. And it wasn't really wrong of me to tell -
He steps up to me and slaps me in the face, not as hard as the last time, but it burns and I stagger backwards, feeling tears rise as I put my hand up to my cheek.
"Christ, Neil!" Mr. Hartridge swears. "Leave the boy alone."
"Somebody has to teach him some manners."
"Then let me do that." Mr. Hartridge grips Mr. James's arm, then turns to me. "Get back to work, boy."
I run past them, and inside the barn, I take a deep breath and rub my skin where he hit me. I hate it here. I really, really hate it.
xXx
I didn't think he would do it, but a few days later, Mr. Hartridge unlocks the door to his office and lets me inside. Another surprise is that he leaves me alone. But I don't care why, all I do is to stare at the black phone on the desk, and then I slowly walk over to the desk to sit down on the chair, my heart beating so wildly there's a buzz in my head.
They have to be home now. Have to be. I don't know what I'll do if the signals keep going and going and they're not home. I can't take it.
I guess that's why I hesitate as long as I do, but then I reach out and lift the receiver.
I try not to count, but that's impossible. But after five signals, someone answers.
"Yeah?"
"Steve?" I say, but that's all I have the time to manage before he starts cursing loudly at me.
"What the hell, Ponyboy? It's been a fuckin' month since we heard from you!"
He keeps going, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Steve!" I interrupt him finally. "They wouldn't let me call-"
"What? Shit, Pony. You all right?" I almost can't believe that it sounds like he cares about me. "Where the hell are you?"
"I'm okay," I lie. "It's somewhere south of Tulsa, out in the country. They have a farm."
"Why didn't they let you call?"
"I don't know," I say. "It's just stupid. Is Soda there? I really want to talk to him."
"He and Darry are at the hospital."
I almost drop the phone as I stand up. "What? Are they okay? Who's hurt? Steve, I -"
"Calm down, damnit. It ain't nothin' serious, Soda just cut his hand a bit while makin' dinner. He was a bit mad-"
"Soda cut himself?" I exclaim. "Is he okay?"
"Geez, why don't ya shut up and let me tell you? He's okay, all right? But it bled a lot and Darry wanted them to stitch him up, is all."
"You sure?"
He just sighs in the other end. I sit down again, trying to calm myself. I take some deep breaths while he's waits patiently.
"I don't know when I can call next time," I say with a small voice. "I just want to know he's okay. Him and Darry both."
"Yeah, they're okay. Could be better. This is quite hard on them."
"I know," I whisper. I feel like crying again.
"Give me the address. We can head out tomorrow."
I blink. "You can?"
He lets out a bark of laughter. "You really think they wouldn't?"
I smile, suddenly relieved again. "Guess not."
We make a little more small talk, but I don't tell him about Mr. James. I don't want to do it on the phone. I'm not sure I will tell them at all. I know they would believe me, but since I have to stay here, it would only worry them a lot. I don't know what to do, but I have until tomorrow to figure it out.
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