I wanted to take this opportunity to thank all of you for reading my story and submitting all these wonderful reviews! I also wanted to apologize for taking this long to update. I could give you a long, drawn out excuse, but instead I'll just tell you the truth: I died, spent the night in limbo, went to my own memorial service and was resurrected for the sole purpose of finishing this story. I mean my words in the most literal way possible. Enjoy the chapter! I have a feeling you will.
Steve awkwardly sat in the pediatric unit of the hospital. He felt vulnerable without grease in his hair, too large and clumsy in the small chair in the waiting room, out of place. A nurse had just announced to him that his chlamydia test was, as he and everyone else predicated, negative. Now, he was just waiting for Darry or Soda or someone to drive him home. Already past midnight, he felt exhausted, his body giving out under the exertion of the day. In less than six hours, he would need to wake up, to begin his monotonous, tiresome day all over again. His body ached at just the thought.
But then he thought of Mia, and he visibly shuttered. He could not imagine for even a moment that someone could do such a thing to a little girl. He wondered who did it, and as he did, a wave of unexpected anger erupted in his heart. Suddenly, he understood Darry's actions with an unprecedented clarity. He himself wanted to find, torture, kill the person who did this.
XXX
Soda and Pony sat in the dark hospital, unmoving, as still as their little sister, who slept so sad and hopeless in the hospital bed. She hadn't spoken a word to either of them, even when she did awake. The two boys were highly concerned, but they were also angry and sad and confused. A whole mixture of emotions ravished their bodies
A burst of bright light woke Pony and Soda from their thoughts. In the doorway stood Darry, looking even more tired than before.
"Hey," Darry whispered, walking up to Mia's bed. "How is she?"
"She fell asleep," Soda whispered back, yawning as he stretched his arms out. "I thought I told you to get some rest."
"I had some business to take care of." Darry shrugged and considered his little sister, so small and fragile in the bed. The blankets were pulled up to her chin, her hair in little ringlets around her face, her arm with the IV hanging limply over the side. With a gentle hand, he smoothed her brow and kissed her forehead. She stirred slightly, moaning a bit in her sleep, before sliding back into the cool throws of unconsciousness.
"Where were you?" Pony asked.
For a moment, Darry ignored the question, this time taking Mia's hand and sliding it into his own. The hand was so small in his large ones, the fingers so little, so small. She was still a child with a very grown up problem. A tear slid down his cheek, landing softly on Mia's skin.
"Steve," he replied, his voice thick with tears, "Steve's negative for chlamydia."
Pony and Soda were very quiet for a moment before Soda began to speak.
"Is Steve here?" the middle Curtis asked.
"Yeah." Darry nodded his head. "I just wanted to know if... I was just curious, okay?"
"Well, you couldn't have honestly thought--" Soda began, but Darry cut him off.
"I didn't think it was really him, all right!" Darry said, his voice rising in volume until it was nearly a shout. "I just needed... needed to know."
Mia's eyes blinked open at the sound of her eldest brother's angry voice. Darry was horrified to see the tears begin to slide down Mia's face. Thick and fast, they rocketed down, and more and more and more came, making the child shake slightly, whimpers coming from her mouth.
"Look what you did!" Pony cried, jumping up, throwing his body between Mia and Darry. "If you're gonna fight, do it outside."
Everyone was surprised. Usually, it was Soda breaking up the fights between Darry and Pony. For a moment, everyone was quiet, the only sounds Mia's sobs, which continued to grow in volume until they were cries of anguish.
"Mia," Darry whispered, smoothing Mia's brow again, rubbing his hand over her forehead in what he hoped was a soothing motion. "I'm real sorry, Mia and so is Soda. We just want to know who did this to you. Shhh... it's okay. You can me."
Mia brought a sleepy hand up to her face, wiping the tears away with her little fist.
"You said Steve was here?" she hiccupped.
"Yeah. He's right outside in the waiting room."
"Can I talk to him?" she asked. "Alone?"
XXX
Steve was just about asleep in his chair when a hand grasping his shoulder startled him.
"Steve," Darry's deep voice said in a coarse whisper. "Mia wants to see you."
Steve was surprised. He wasn't exactly very close to the child, but he knew her all right. He stumbled to his feet, feeling slightly off balance from the sleep. He felt drunk as he followed Darry to Mia's room. As he entered the dark room, he was surprised to see Pony and Soda get up and leave. He gave a questioning look to Darry, we stood in the doorway, not entering the room himself.
"She wanted to speak to you alone," Darry explained. "I don't know why. That's just what she wanted."
Although the request was odd, Darry could not deny her. Out all the things he couldn't give her or give back to her, this was the one thing he could. Steve nodded, shutting the door behind him. When Mia saw Steve entering the room, she sat up, struggling against the weight of her body, propping herself up on pillows. She turned on the lamp besides her, and her eyes squinted in the light.
"Hey, Mia," Steve said softly, not quite sure what to say the girl. After all, what do you say to a child that went through what Mia went through? "How are you feeling?"
Mia hardly considered the question before discounting it. She looked Steve up and down, expecting the cocky teenager with too much grease in his hair. All she saw, though, was a tired boy with bags under his eyes.
"Steve?" Mia asked, her voice surprisingly steady. "When did your dad start beating you?"
The question startled Steve, although it did not surprise him. Yes, he dad beat him. But he had hidden that fact the best he could from the teachers at school, his friends, coworkers, anyone who knew him. He couldn't let anyone know about that. They would think him weak. Why didn't he just runaway from home? Why didn't he just fight back? Steve couldn't say that the reason he stayed was because he wanted to finish school and leaving home would mean he would beed to drop out support himself. He coudn't fight back because his dad was fifty pounds heavier and four inches taller than him. No one knew, not even Soda. Everyone knew that that he and his dad hated each other. But no one knew of the abuse.
"I was seven," Steve replied. "How do you know? Who told you?"
For a moment, Mia felt so close to Steve, it made her heart ache. Here was another person, another soul, who knew what it was like to be hurt by another person, but couldn't speak of it due to shame.
Mia thought of the moment she knew of Steve's situation. It had been before her parents had died. In the middle of the night, she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, but she heard a noise in the living room. It was Steve. He had his shirt off, and he was gingerly touching his rub cage, which was peppered with bruises. Steve hadn't seen Mia; she stood in the dark doorway, unmoving, not speaking. She never told Steve what she saw, but she did look closely for bruises after that. And she found them and attributed them to their proper source when others thought they were from playing football or work.
"How come you don't tell anyone?" Mia asked, continuing as if Steve hadn't spoke. "You know how much help you could receive if you just told someone?"
"How about you, Mia?" Steve replied. "Why didn't tell someone sooner?"
Mia shook her head.
"It's not the same thing, Steve."
"Oh, but isn't?"
XXX
Ten minutes later, Steve sat in next to Soda in the truck. They sat in silence for a few moments, both exhausted, before Soda broke the silence.
"What did Mia want?" Soda asked, looking to Steve expectantly.
"Nothing really," Steve replied with a shrug.
"Well, did she talk you?"
"Yeah."
"What did she say?"
Steve took a deep breath. He remembered Mia's words about getting help. Steve didn't need help, though. He just had to hang on till June. Then, he would graduate and move out. He didn't need to tell anyone. But it would feel really nice to expel this secret, the secret that ate at his insides and kept him awake at night.
"Mia," Steve began, unsure how to continue. "She knows things others don't."
"Like what?"
Steve considered his words carefully.
"Soda, you know about me and my dad, right?"
"That he's a total asshole? Yeah, I know that. What about it?"
"Nothing." Steve shook his head. "Nevermind."
They were at Steve's house now, and he got out of the car.
"I'm sorry about Mia," Steve said. "I hope you catch the bastard who did this to her."
He closed the door to the car and Soda watched as his best friend walked into his house.
XXX
It was six in the morning at the Curtis house. Darry and Soda woke up to the quiet house, the lack of sound disconcerting. Late last night, Pony had volunteered to stay the night with Mia, pushing Soda and Darry to the door to get home, to get to sleep, so that they could get to work in the morning.
"It feels weird," Soda said as he popped two pieces of the bread in the toast. It didn't seem quite right to eat chocolate cake.
"Yeah, it does," Darry agreed. "Hey, let's go the hospital and see Mia real quick before work. We have enough time."
Soda opened his mouth to argue, but he couldn't come up with any good reason not to, so he nodded his head.
"All right." His bread popped out of the toaster, a deep, rich brown. But he ignored it as he shoved his shoes on his feet and gathered his old jacket around his shoulders. "Let's go."
A few minutes, they were at the hospital. In the waiting room, the spotted Pony, sitting in one of the chairs.
"What's going on?" Darry asked when he saw his youngest brother. "How's Mia? Did something happen?"
"The detectives wanted to talk to her," Pony explained. "They questioned me out here. They wanted to talk to Mia alone."
"Can they legally do that?" Soda pondered out loud. "I mean, since you and Mia are just kids, can they legally question ya'll without your guardian present?"
"Yeah," Pony replied. "Since we're not suspects, it's perfectly legal."
Just then, the door to Mia's room opened and out stepped the two detectives, both looking vexed and pensive at the same time. When they spotted the three boys, they walked up to them, their strides calculated, purposeful.
"Did Mia say anything?" Darry asked before the detectives could even open their mouths.
"No," Detective Conway replied. "Not even a word. She cried, but she didn't say anything." The detective looked all three boys in the eyes before speaking. "I'm going to ask this again. Do any of you have any idea who might have done this? Anyone she acts differently around?"
The brothers sat in silence for a moment, but none of them could think of anyone in particular.
"Think of everyone," Detective Coonway continued.
All of a sudden, everyone Mia had contact with became a suspect: Two-Bit, Mia's math teacher, Mr. Wilson, Ron McDaniels, the next door neighbor, Mr. Crane, Mia's piano teacher, Philip Hanna, the librarian at the public library Mia often frequented.
"Honestly, I don't know," Soda shrugged. "We can give you a list of men Mia regularly spends time with. Point to any name on the list and that person could be it. Your guess is as good as ours."
Pony and Darry nodded in agreement to Soda's words.
"Work on that list," Detective Conway said with a curt nod. "We'll find the man who hurt Mia. Don't ya'll worry."
The two detectives left, leaving the three boys to tend to their little sister.
XXX
The next day, the doctor announced that Mia was finally well enough to go home. The doctor gave Darry a myriad of medicine to give to Mia and a referal to a pyschiatrist.
"A pyschiatrist?" Darry had asked, slightly confused.
"Yes," the doctor replied. "As you can imagine, Mia is deeply... disturbed by everything she's been through. Maybe you'll even get some answers out of her."
Darry nodded, but he thought of everything he and his brothers had gone through. When their parents died, Pony had had night terrors and hadn't needed a pyschiatrist. When Johnny and Dallas died, they were all deeply perturbed, yet they were all able to work their emotions out between themselves. But this, Darry supposed, was probably different.
"We'll give it a try," Darry replied.
"Wait a week or two until she's all better physically. Then, she can begin to heal emotionally."
Mia sat in the car next to Darry. Soda was at work and Pony was at school. She looked thin and tired. But she was out of bed for the first time since she got sick. She was still in immense pain, though, and the doctor warned that it could be months before she was really back to normal. The infection was no longer life threatening, though, and Mia was out of immediate danger.
"How're you doing?" Darry asked for probably the tenth time that day. They were halfway home and Mia hadn't said very much. In fact, she might have spoken ten words the entire week.
"I'm missing a lot of school," Mia commented, her voice flat, expressionless. She looked out the window, not daring to look her brother in the eye.
"You've been really sick," Darry replied, turning to Mia with a smile. "Everyone at school understands. I'll even pick up the work you missed so you won't fall behind."
"Can I go back tomorrow?" Her voice was small, but expectant, turning away from the window, looking towards Darry with wide eyes.
"The doctor said for you to rest for a couple weeks."
"I'm missing everything, though. I'll become stupid."
"You're really smart, Mia. You're not gonna go dumb just because you miss a little school."
Mia said nothing. They were home now, and Mia longed to be in her bed. She was in pain still, waves of agony coursing through her abdomen. But she had pain pills to take every few hours.
Darry helped her into the house. She had taken the initiative to get dressed before leaving the hospital, but she longed to get into bed. She went to her room, dressed in her familiar, comfortable flannel nightgown and got into bed. Now all she wanted was a pain pill and a few hour's sleep.
"Hey kiddo." Darry stood in the doorway. "How're you doing?"
Mia shrugged.
"Can I have a pain pill, please?"
Darry nodded and left. He returned a few moments later with a largr white pill in one , hhand and a glass of water in the other. She swollowed the pill with her water, hoping it would throw her into the wonderful, painless bliss she had come to rely on.
"You hungry?" Darry asked. "I could make you some mushroom soup."
"No." Mia shook her head. She hadn't eaten much in the last few days and her poor, emaciated body showed it.
"You have to eat something," Darry replied. "I could make you anything you want. Just name it."
"Mushroom soup is okay."
Darry smiled and left to prepare the meal. By the time he came back with a steaming bowl of soup, Mia was asleep. He placed the food on her nightstand, kissing her forehead before leaving.
XXX
The next day was the real challenge for the Curtis family. The brothers wanted someone at home at all times to watch Mia, but the schedule just didn't work out. Darry and Soda had both missed so much work; neither could possibly take another day. So they each compromised. Darry agreed to go in late and Soda decided to leave early. Still, that meant that there was about an hour's gap where Mia would be left alone. No one was happy about leaving Mia alone even for that brief amount of time, but they felt as if there was no other option.
Now, Darry stood, ready for work. Mia had taken her place on the couch to watch the programming on TV. There really was nothing good on weekdays, but it was better than lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Gonna be okay?" Darry asked, pausing by the couch on the way to the door.
"I'll be fine, really." Mia replied.
"Soda'll be home real soon, okay?"
"All right."
Darry gave Mia a kiss on the forehead before walking towards the door.
"I love you, Mia."
"Love you too."
With that, Darry opened the door and left, leaving Mia all by herself.
XXX
Mr. Gregory Crane sat parked about three houses down from the Curtis residence. He had been waiting all morning for the eldest Curtis to leave. Now, he was gone. Mia was home alone. Mr. Crane smiled to himself.
He got out of his car and began to walk to the Curtis' house. He knew for a fact that Mia hadn't told on him yet. If that were the case, he'd be behind bars. A pair of detectives, two brutes with large egos, had actually approached Mr. Crane. They had also approached Bryan Wilson, a colleague and fellow teacher of Mr. Crane's. It was only routine, they had explained, and a quick, painless test would rule them out as suspects. Both Mr. Wilson and Mr. Crane readily supplied urine samples. Now, they were both ruled out and the detectives wouldn't even give them a second thought.
Mr. Crane smiled again. He stood before the house now, on the rickety porch. He pushed the door open and there was Mia, lying so hopelessly on the couch.
"Mia," Mr. Crane purred. "It seems like it's been forever since our last engagement. How I've missed you, my sweet."
Mia wanted to run. She wanted to hide, to scream. But fear paralyzed her to her spot, froze her vocal chords.
"I heard your brothers know a little bit about our little love affair," Mr. Crane continued. "I know for a fact that they don't know it's me." Mr. Crane disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later with a long kitchen knife. "But you see, Mia, one day, one day probably soon, you'll get up the nerve to tell your brothers, and where will I be, hmm?"
He approached Mia, holding the knife out so he caught some of the light leaking through the curtains onto the blade, glinting in the sparse light.
"It won't hurt, my love, I promise," he whispered into her ear before positioning the knife over her heart. "Just one quick stab and it'll be over. No more pain or suffering. You'll get to return to your parents. You'll be happier this way."
Still paralyzed with fear, Mia uttered a cry of pain as the tip of the knife began to penetrate through her nightgown, a small orb of blood erupting around the metal.
XXX
Soda walked home from the gas station. Darry had the truck, so he had no other choice. The good part was that he had gotten off of work earlier than expected. In fact, if he had to guess, Mia was probably only alone for a few minutes. He was home now, and he opened up the door to the house.
What saw made him want to vomit.
Mr. Crane stood over Mia, a knife in his hand. There was blood on Mia's nightgown.
"You!" Soda shouted, charging towards the man. It suddenly became so clear to Soda; this was Mia's attacker, her abuser, the person who had nearly killed her.
Mr. Crane dropped the knife, startled, and it clattered to the floor with a sickening thud. Soda couldn't help himself. He used the other man's surprise to his own advantage, swinging his fist into the opposite's stomach.
Mr. Crane gasped in surprise and pain, but his reflexes were good and he threw a punch, hitting Soda squarely in the jaw. The younger of the two could taste blood in his mouth. He didn't stop to inspect the damage, though, before throwing a torrent of punches at Mr. Crane, each one hitting its target in new and terrible ways. Mr. Crane was older, but Soda was bigger, stronger, and had more experience fighting than the older one.
Soda threw a final punch and Mr. Crane fell onto the floor, doubled up in pain. It was nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the pain he had put Mia and all three of the brothers through, though. This fact stood out clearly in Soda's mind. In the background, he became faintly aware of screaming. It could have belonged to Mia or Mr. Crane or even himself. It didn't matter. He began to kick the man, kick him repeatedly in the stomach, in the head chest and groin. But that didn't cause enough pain.
He lost control of his body, something, not himself, grasping the knife. Sometime, still not himself, pushed the knife again and again and again, deeper and deeper and deeper, into Mr. Crane's body.
He suddenly became aware of a piercing scream. Breathing hard, he stood up, clutching the knife tightly in his hand. His eyes were unfocued, staring at an unknown object without seeing it.
"Soda!" a voice screamed. Suddenly, he caught up with reality.
There was blood everyone, seeped into the floor, spattered on the walls, all over his hands, his clothes. He looked towards Mia. She was covered in blood as well. In horror, Soda realized that not all of it belonged to Mr. Crane. The little circle in the middle of her chest began to grow and grow.
Soda could runaway, like Johnny did when he killed that soc. But by doing that, he would put his little sister's life in jeopordy. He had to call. Calmly, he walked to the phone, dialed three digits.
"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?" a pleasant female voice asked.
"My sister was attacked. I killed her rapist."
XXX
Soda sat in the police station. The police had handcuffed him, sat him in the a cruiser, taken him downtown. He did not know if Mia was okay or not. He kept on asking, but no one would answer him. Finally, a man, Detective Conway, his mind told him, walked up to him.
"How's Mia?" Soda asked before the detective could even open his mouth.
"She sustained superficial wounds," he replied. "She'll be all right. You saved her life."
Soda nodded his head, breathing a sigh of relief. In that moment, he felt as if he had traded his life for Mia's.
"I don't care if you put me in the electric chair. I wouldn't change what I did for the world. I finally was able to protect my sister."
In response, Detective Conway took a set of keys out of his pocket and undid Soda's handcuffs, setting the teenager free.
"The electric chair?" Detective Conway asked. "I'd sooner give you a metal."
"You would?" Soda asked, confused. "I just killed a man, Mr. Gregory Crane."
The detective shook his head.
"You're mistaken."
"But I saw him. His eyes were glassy and he wasn't breathing. He was dead. I'm sure."
The detective smiled.
"You killed him all right, but his name wasn't Gregory Crane. His name was Jeffery Gunthrie and he was wanted in Texas for raping and murdering his own sister."
Soda could only stare blankly in response.
