So This Is War
Chapter Twenty-Five
Well here we are, second to last chapter! What a fun and wild ride it's been! I hope y'all have enjoyed reading as much as I have writing it.
Pony's POV
I'm allowed to leave the house alone now, but I don't trust myself. Even when we go out as a group I make sure to stay close by. I know where every cat hangs and there's never one far enough away. I don't want it anymore, but every time I leave the house I feel that itch. It's ridiculous, but I can't help it. I think Steve feels it too, but he hides it better than me.
There's a knock at the front door, but I ignore it. My brothers are in the living room so I know they'll take care of it. I hear the door open and can't but find it all so distracting. I'm trying to read Gone With The Wind, but I can't focus to save my life. Every miniscule sound interrupts my train of thought. An unfamiliar voice drifts down the hall, sharp and distinct from the usual Oklahoma twang. Curiosity gets the better of me just as Darry hollers for me.
I hustle out to the living room and my jaw hits the floor, my feet stopping dead in their tracks. The one legged man in front of me seems so out of place I ask my oldest brother, "Dar, I ain't hallucinating again, am I?"
They all laugh and the stranger hobbles with his cane on his prosthetic over to me. He embraces me, still chuckling, and I numbly return it. I lean back and slap his face lightly, to affirm that he is in fact here. He pushes me with a huge grin, knocking me off balance. I retaliate by punching him in the shoulder with my own bright smile. I shout, "Ryan! What the hell are you doing here, man? How've you been?!"
Jakob Ryan looks the same as I last saw him, minus the foot. His eyes still hold that bright twinkle of life reflected in his grin. His skin is still just as olive toned and his hair is just as black. I don't care what he calls himself, he's Italian. His thick Jersey accent teases me, "Hells, Curtis, ain't I's wanted anymore? I's thought I told ya's to keep outta troubles. Yer big brothers called me, told me what's been going on, so's, I moved the fam's down heres and I'm gonna keep ya's outta trouble myself."
I argue stiffly, "Ryan, you ain't gotta move down here to babysit me. I'm doing much better, really. Besides, I got these bodyguards to watch out for me."
He shrugs, that grin never fading, "That's the biggest fucking lie I's ever heard! I'm a doc, 'member? Yous ain't in the clear yet."
My brothers fold their arms across their chests, interested in this new revelation. Steve and I narrow our eyes at him. They don't need to hear about how jittery we still are. I'm sure it's obvious, but we are trying to hide it. We know better than to act on the urges that attack us so what's the point?
Ryan's grin turns to a smirk and he continues, "'Sides, I's always wanted to come down heres and see yer home town for myself. I'm opening ups a clinic too. I's got the paperwork all filled out and everything."
My defense drops with that bomb. I blink a few times and make sure my ears aren't clogged. "You're actually moving down here? To Tulsa?" I question.
He nods excitedly and the guys laugh. Of course they knew about it. I contemplate asking him why, but I'm too relieved to have Ryan back in the gang. Darry and Soda didn't know him before, but they knew enough about him to welcome him. We hang around the house for a few hours, getting reacquainted, before he decides to drag us all out into the Tulsa sun. We trek around the neighborhood for a few blocks before coming to a decent enough house for this area. He practically pushes us in the door, using me as a shield. I shoot him a questioning look before I'm tackled by a little blond girl. I'm not the only one either.
Three girls are attacking all of us. I think they're being playful, but it's hard to tell with their violent giggles. I hear Ryan cracking up behind me as I push the girl back at arms length. She still tries to swing her tiny fists as me, but she can't reach. Ryan catches himself on the door frame, clutching his sides as if the laughter is tearing out of him. Two-Bit seems to be enjoying playing with the monsters and throws one up into the air. He catches her and sets her down, motioning for her to run. She does and he chases, disappearing into the house. Steve keeps looking frantically between me and the girl he's pushing like a yo-yo, every time he taps her forehead away she bounces right back. Darry and Soda follow in Two-Bit's footsteps and counterattack. What the hell?
Once Ryan mostly collects himself, he takes pity and shoos the children away. Two-Bit voluntarily keeps going though, now joined with three other girls approximately between ages seven and thirteen. The house settles down and we make ourselves comfortable on the worn furniture. Steve balances on the arm of the sofa and runs a hand through his hair, seemingly as uncomfortable around children as I. He teases, "Glory, but you weren't kidding when you said they're crazy!"
Ryan snorts with a chortle. "What you's think I's was making it up? Hells nah! They's real loveable demons once ya gets used to 'em," he sings.
I roll my eyes and punch his shoulder. Sneak attack by sister is a low blow. "So what'd you really make the big move for, huh? You could have just visited," I finally ask.
He crinkles his nose like I offended him. His grin dims, telling me I was right about it being more than just me. "Jersey was getting to be too... familiar. You's knows I can't stand no sympathies, which I's got from everybodies. So when I's got the call, I figured maybes it's a sign," he says, serious for the first time in his life. All our faces fall and I'm sorry I asked. There's something wrong about a solemn Ryan.
I spy a pack of gum on the end table and hand it to him as a gift. His face lights up in a second and he pops a stick in his grinning teeth. The war may have taken his foot from him, but it couldn't take his spirit. If that didn't do it, I don't think anything can for him. Give him gum to chomp on or a joke and he's right as rain.
He introduces us to all of his many sisters, minus the oldest who is out with her boyfriend. They're practically miniature versions of their big brother. They have dark hair and tan skin that screams Italian. Their accents are just a bit harder to make out because of their young voices, almost piercingly high. They're as tough as any of the greaser girls here, if not even more so. They could probably take on any greaser in the city. I know they'll fit right in.
We sit listening to their loud stories, intrigued by how different they were. Their gang wars were a lot like ours, but between nationalities. Naturally, they were lumped in with the Italians. They faced more violence than us because they could get dragged into an ally's rumble one day and fight that same gang the next. It sounded to me like Dally's description of the New York gangs- minus the skin color. I don't know how they made it out of that demilitarized zone with smiles in place. Maybe it isn't just a Ryan thing- maybe it's a New Jersey thing.
The front door falls open and another tall girl stumbles in with a guy in tow. He rolls his eyes at her drunken stupor and helps her up. Ryan's eyes sparkle with humor, but he hardens his face to assume the role of protective brother. "Well hellos there! And just who's is you?" he barks. I can tell he doesn't mean it.
The man jumps when he realizes there's a whole gang sitting right in the living room. "Uh, hey. I didn't get her drunk," he explains in a deep, not real bright voice. Wait... I know that voice...
Our heads all look at the guy. My eyes immediately lock on to his face, but it takes me a moment to recognize him. "Curly?" someone whispers in shock. It may have been me, but I feel numb right now with mixed emotions. There was a time he was my best friend until our huge blowout over the drugs.
It must have been me because his eyes snap like a whip to my direction. He stiffens and his eyes turn sharp. The tension is so thick even the drunk could feel it. She backs away from him and stumbles off towards the back of the house. The younger sisters follow. No one else dares to even breathe.
"Curly... how you been? You look good," I say to break the silence. It's true though. His usual greased back hair is combed back in a more professional, less greaser, style. His clothes fit better and have fewer holes. He looks like he's been working out too, not that he needed it. He doesn't look the same dimwitted hood. He looks... mature.
"Better than you anyway," he spits icily.
That's a slap in the face like kicking a man when he's down. My shoulders slump and my brothers tense, ready for anything. I don't know if they're closer to keeping me from doing something stupid or if they're closer to doing something stupid for themselves by punching his lights out. It doesn't matter which it is; Curly's right. His simple sentence rings more true than any of us would like. He's hurt by everything, including our fight. He looks down on me for being so weak. The drugs hurt myself, my family, and my friends.
I raise my hands in surrender. "I'm trying, Curls. I'm getting back on track," I plead.
He takes a step back, dropping some of his iron defenses. I see suspicion and a glimmer of hope stir in his eyes. There's no knowing where he stands now. I want my old friend back, but I have to accept the consequences of my actions. There may not be a chance for forgiveness.
Curly sighs, the walls collapsing, "I want to believe you, Curtis, but... I'll believe it when I see it."
"So stay and see for yourself," Two-Bit pipes up, interrupting our private conversation.
Ryan laughs and says, "Oh no you's ain't! Not afters bringing my sister homes drunk. What'd that be telling the others?" The three remaining girls giggle and throw whatever is in hand at their big brother. Oh so that's where the comedy comes in. Maybe they aren't such demons after all.
Curly edges closer to the door with a sheepish grin on his face. His eyes still hold a tint of sadness, but he seems lighter. I think he's mostly just content not to have the protective brother pounding on him for once. "I'll catch y'all later then. See you, Pony," he calls as he's backing out the door.
Ryan and Two-Bit both howl with laughter, a mutual understanding that must only come from having younger sisters. Darry and Soda chuckle slightly too while Steve and I exchange a weak smile. We don't get it. One minute the room is as thick as a cloud of smoke and the next sunshine is raining on their heads.
Eventually it gets late enough in the evening that his aunt gets home from job hunting. We meet the infamous Aunt Linda, a brave enough women to raise seven children that weren't even hers. She lives up to the reputation. She's a stocky women, strong, and wide like most middle-aged Italians. Her face is taunt like it's rare for her to smile, but when she does it lights up the room. She manages to put up with the nonsensical ways of Ryan and his sisters at the same time as being very firm about house rules. She welcomes us like family.
Linda prepares a homemade lasagna which looks as good as it smells. The table is barely big enough for the eight of them, but they manage to squeeze us five in. It's a tight fit that somehow feels comfortable. It feels like family. We dive into the food and practically melt. It tastes as heavenly as Two-Bit's momma's banana bread.
We leave when the sun sinks far below the horizon. The walk home is quiet. It's a warm night, like even the night is hugging us. I smile and think about the large addition to the clan. What could be better than having a loving family the size of a small army? Sure there was less food to go around and more bickering, but also more compassion and support. Any of them would gladly be a crutch for one of us to lean on.
As we reach the front door of the house, Two-Bit and Soda hang back. It's time for them to be heading to their own families for the night. I look forward to having Ash and Lacey around again, which should be soon. I call out to Two-Bit just one more thing, thinking about all this family. It's the oldest question I've ever asked, but I ask again, "Hey, Two-Bit, when you and Kathy getting hitched?" A sly smile spreads across his face instead of the usual pallor.
Sorry this chapter is so short! I had a touch of writer's block. Thanks for the reviews as always! Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon.