Chapter Twenty Eight
You're like brothers. And apparently that makes you his keeper too.
"Where is he, Steve?" Darry turns up at the DX looking like he wants to tear somebody in two. You flick a glance in his direction and go back to counting the cash from the till. Even in his anger, he frowns a little when he sees what you're doing.
"Shouldn't you be doing that out back somewhere?"
"Yep."
The truth is his little brother has skipped out on work early yet again and that means you gotta watch the pumps out here and then cash up after closing. Which eats into your free time and you ain't getting paid for it. So fuck it, you're multi tasking.
"What's your problem?"
You know just what his fucking problem is but since he's in such denial about Soda you wanna hear him say it out loud. Despite breaking some poor guys nose for no reason, Darry put Soda's actions down to 'readjusting' and being 'on edge'. What a crock of shit.
"My problem is Soda took the truck to work. He said he'd pick me up from work and take me to the dentist this lunchtime but he never showed. I had to walk, I was late and they made me sit around all afternoon until they had a space."
Darry's had toothache all week. It took you, Ponyboy and Two-Bit to convince him to go to the damn dentist. Chump didn't want to spare the cash.
You carry on counting.
"You gonna say something or what?"
You look at him blankly. What the fuck is it that he wants you to say?
"Your tooth feel better?" You ask.
"My tooth-Steve, I am beginning to lose my very short temper with you and your buddy. I've had toothache all week and that on top of Pony's nightmares means I ain't been getting much sleep-"
"Pony's having nightmares again?" You look up in surprise.
Darry growls in the back of his throat, throws his hands up and storms out of there.
He practically knocks Al Young out of the way as he steps into the store. Al throws a look over his shoulder at Darry's retreating back.
"What's the-what in the world are you doing?"
"Counting." You don't take your eyes off the money or pay Al any attention. You ain't in the mood for his shit today.
He turns quickly and draws the bolt on the back of the door.
"Why in the world are you counting that out here? You're asking to be robbed!"
"Needs to be done before closing and I ain't staying after."
Al scowls at you and places his hands on his hips.
"You can't cash up before we even close. What if someone buys something else?"
As if to illustrate his point, somebody bangs on the window outside. You slide the cash tray back into the till and watch as Al smugly lets in a couple of cheerleaders.
"Can we get two cokes please?" Their eyes are darting all over the store and you know they're looking for the war hero. Didn't take long for Tulsa's school girls to realise Soda was back in town.
"And, uh, we need the tank filled too…" you can sense the disappointment in both of them that Soda is absent but instead of it pissing you off like usual, you just feel kinda sad.
You go outside and start to fill the lone car out on the forecourt. You feel sad and angry and like the world is unduly fucking unfair right now.
Soda has been pulling these disappearing acts more and more lately. Not just on you and Darry but everybody. It never used to bother you when Dally split for a while and sometimes Two-Bit goes on benders for days but with Soda- well, he was always somebody you could rely on. Not no more.
You replace the gas nozzle on it's holder and screw the cap back on the fuel tank. Inside, you can see Al talking to the girls then you see him open the back door to the garage and you realise he's looking for Soda. Fuck, this is bullshit. You ain't his damn keeper but somehow you still feel responsible.
Back inside, you tally together the gas and cokes in your head and take the money from the girls. Al snorts unimpressed when you put the money in the till and add the figure to the till's total scribbled on the back of a car event leaflet.
As soon as the girls are gone, he fixes you with a stare.
"So where is he?"
"Where's who?"
"Don't give me that, Randle. You know who I'm talking about."
"He left to go to the dentist."
That ain't exactly a lie. At lunch time that's exactly what he left to do 'cept it was Darry that needed the dentist and clearly Soda never got there.
"Well, he never cleared it with me and the money will be coming straight out his wages."
You shrug.
"And what's the deal with the apartment? He still want it or what?"
"Far as I know." You start straightening up the candy bars, something you never fucking do, but it beats being on the receiving end of Al's accusing stare.
"I don't get what's taking him so long."
"I guess he's having trouble saving the deposit."
"Well, if he can't find one months rent while he's living at home, how's he gonna manage it when he ain't? "
"It's seven o clock." You tell him.
"So?" His eyes narrow.
"So I'm going home."
His eyes are flaming but you have had more than fucking enough.
"Well, I ain't done here-"
"I am." You toss the keys at him as you pass, pushing open the door and stepping into the cool fresh air.
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Soda is getting into the truck when you turn into the Curtis driveway. You've walked from your place, feeling like you needed to burn off some steam. Whenever you get in the Chevy in this mood, it just makes you wanna drag race.
"Where the fuck have you been?" You demand without a hello.
The punk even has the nerve to look irritated.
"Don't you fucking start- I been getting it in both ears today from everybody."
You stare at him, slowly counting to ten in your head like the Guidance counsellor told you you should every time you got hauled in for fighting. It's like you're not even there.
Soda climbs in and slams the shut door. Looks like he's just gonna drive off without mention of dropping you in it with Al, or leaving you to answer Darry's questions earlier. Son of a bitch.
He slips the keys in the ignition, buckles his seatbelt quickly and starts up the engine. Well, he at least tries to. Maybe there is a fucking God.
As the engine splutters and dies, you walk over to his open window and stick your head inside the truck.
"You leave the radio on again?"
There's no sound coming from the system but you can see the power light is on and he's turned it down and forgotten about it. Again.
He swears and thumps the steering wheel and you smell the faint scent of booze on his breeze.
"Soda?"
He raises his head to look at you. When you see the dark circles under his eyes, you feel yourself soften.
"What's going on, man?"
He opens his mouth and for one glorious second you think he's gonna tell you the truth but instead he hits the steering wheel again.
"What's going on is everyone is on my case. Darry, Pony, Lily, you-"
"You want me to go get the Chevy? Can give you a jump start…" You offer with a sigh.
"Nah, I'll walk. Need to tell Darry the truck's not running." He's mumbling half to you and half to himself as he climbs out the truck and hurries up the porch steps. You follow him inside and nod at Ponyboy who is slouched on the sofa with Maryanne.
Soda barely looks at either of them, just hurries through to the kitchen to tell Darry about the truck.
You look at Ponyboy, who nods at you.
"Hey, Steve."
"Hey." You don't wanna embarrass the kid in front of his girl but you want to know why you haven't heard about him having nightmares lately. Not from him and not from Soda. Surely, the kid is over all that shit now?
You can hear Soda and Darry arguing about the truck in the kitchen but you, Pony and Maryanne all pretend to watch the TV instead of listening in.
"Have you been round to see Lily yet? She's called here twice!" Darry is saying.
"Where do you think I was going, Darry? Except the truck ain't starting so now I'll have to walk."
"And whose fault is that?"
Soda crashes out of the kitchen and storms through the living room. You and Ponyboy exchange a look before you raise a hand in farewell to him and Maryanne and trail outside.
It seems a good time to light up a smoke and Ponyboy seems to think so too as he comes out behind you.
"Got a light?"
You toss him your lighter and the two of you stand in silence, blowing your smoke over the porch rails.
"Something's wrong, Steve."
Halle-fucking-lujah. Somebody else has noticed.
"What's that?" You appear distracted but your ears have pricked up like a dogs on a fox hunt.
"With Soda. He keeps forgetting stuff and not turning up for things. He even missed Bonnie's doctor's appointment today."
"Well, you know he ain't never been organised." You flick your ash out into the yard and make a point of yawning.
"It ain't just that-" Pony looks troubled. "He's been having these nightmares…"
Now that gets your attention.
"Thought it was you having the nightmares?"
Ponyboy shakes his head vehemently and lowers his voice.
"Naw, that's just what he told Darry. He's moved into my room again so Darry won't know the difference and he's told him it's because I need him there."
"So why are you telling me this, Kid?"
"Well, because he made me promise not to tell Darry…"
"But he never made you promise not to tell me," you finish.
You're almost disgusted with yourself for knowing how his noble little mind works. He takes a long drag on his Kool and stares out across the yard.
"I knew something was wrong when he stopped writing. And that coming home letter he sent us. What a crock of shit." Pony boy sounds angry. "Darry won't hear anything I say to him about him yet he's losing his temper every five minutes 'cause Soda keeps screwing up."
He ain't telling you nothing you don't already know.
"I tried to talk to Lily about it," he says. You're starting to think you and him are fucking siamese twins.
"How'd that work out for ya?"
"She told me to mind my own business about him and her. In the nicest of ways of course. I don't think she's gonna put up with his shit much longer though."
Neither do you. You got a feeling once the month is up and Soda hasn't saved the apartment deposit for the second time, the shit is really gonna hit the fan.
"She did say something though. Something about him not being able to support our house and hers. I think she thinks he's broke because he's helping out at home but I know for a fact that he's been lousy at helping out with the bills. That's why Darry's kept his second job."
As the word 'drugs' filters through your mind, you do everything you can to try and stomp it out. You don't want to fucking believe it.
"I gotta go," you tell the kid. And then you drop your cigarette and run out of the gate.
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You catch up with him just a couple of streets away. By then you're wishing two things: one, that your suspicious mind is utterly wrong and two, that you didn't smoke so many damn cigarettes.
"Curtis!"
He looks annoyed when he sees you but he still stops and waits for you to catch up.
"I got a question for you and you better tell me the damn truth." Perhaps your words would have held the menace intended if you could catch your breath.
"Not now, Steve-" He holds up his hand and starts walking away from you but this time you grab his arm and wrench him back.
"Are you doing drugs?"
"What?"
You are so damn grateful that his face twists into shock that you almost forget to breathe.
"Well, look you ain't exactly been yourself lately and i been hearing all over town that guys that come back from Vietnam have been hooked on this or that."
"Steve." His eyes look almost like his own again when he looks at you. "I ain't doing drugs."
Well, that's one problem out the way but it sure ain't all of them.
"Well, what have you been doing? Where'd you keep disappearing to and where is all your money going?"
He opens his mouth and closes it again. He looks at you then sighs. He rubs the back of his neck and then looks at the ground.
"Steve, I-"
"There you are!" With impeccable timing, Lily comes striding towards you both, pushing Bonnie in a stroller.
"I was just coming over to your place." Soda sighs and shields his eyes from the sun to look at her.
Lily tosses her hair.
"Sure you were. Bet that's exactly where you and Steve were going." She hisses your name like it's a swear word and suddenly you remember how much she pisses you off.
"You fucking leave me out of this," you tell her. "I don't know where he's been any more than you do."
"I find that hard to believe."
"Where are you going?" Soda asks her, obviously sensing you two are about to go at it.
"I was going to your place since I've given up calling and having your brothers lie to me."
"They ain't lying." Soda shakes his head. "I ain't been home."
You suddenly notice Bonnie's blond head stir from the nap she's been having. You go over to the stroller and touch her cheek with your hand. Kid gives you a big gummy grin, despite her Mom and Dad tearing strips off each other nearby.
"-you're never around-"
"-you don't stop nagging me-"
"-nobody should have to-"
"Jesus Christ, you two, not in front of the kid!" You snap. Soda and Lily fall quiet, both looking towards Bonnie who is smiling up at you from underneath her pink bonnet.
"I swear she's getting bigger every day," Soda breathes. He sounds kind of choked up but when you look at him you wonder if you imagined it.
"Yeah, kids grow when you don't see them," snipes Lily.
And that's it, they're off at each other again. You watch as Bonnie's eyes follow the noise, her forehead creased, her mouth forming a tiny frown. And you remember how your parents used to yell in front of you before your Mom up and left.
Going round to the back of the stroller, you take up the handle and wheel Bonnie right by both her parents and back up the street.
"Steve, where you going?" Soda notices you first.
"Away from you two. No kid should have to listen to that. I don't even wanna listen to that."
"You can't just walk off with her!" Lily yells after you.
"Watch me," you call back as you round the corner.
You half expect her to come careering up the street and jump on your back but you guess Soda must have talked her out of it or she decided that you probably wouldn't take the kid to the nearest open bar. Tempting thought though.
"Parents, who'd have 'em, huh?"
Bonnie grins at you like she knows a lot more than she should. As you walk through the neighbourhood, she shrieks excitedly at every person you pass before frantically waving at them. And even the grumpiest son of bitches can't help but wave back.
"Babysitting?"
Trust you to run into Tim fucking Shepard. He's as stealth as ever as he crosses the street towards you and you realise that whether he's leaving a rumble or strolling through the park, he always moves at the same speed. The day you see Tim Shepard run past is the day you'd better start running too 'cause Christ knows what would be following him.
"Something like that," you say.
Bonnie gurgles at the leader of the Shepard gang and holds her hand towards him. Tim looks down at her, a slight smile on his face.
"She sure looks like her Daddy."
"Yep."
"He okay?"
"Yeah, why?" You're eyeballing Tim warily. You don't know if it's genuine concern or he's trying to rile you up. You and him ain't exactly had the smoothest of relationships.
"Just seen a lot of him lately. Don't remember him being much of a drinker."
You don't either. But you can't deny the smell of beer on his breath not an hour ago.
"Most men like a drink." You defend Soda anyway.
"Yeah a drink and a good time. 'Cept your buddy don't look like he's having a good time."
"He's fine," you say. "Later, Shepard."
You start walking again and when you throw a look over your shoulder, Tim is walking the opposite way. But you can't help yourself.
"Tim?"
He turns around in askance but doesn't say a word.
"Where you seen him drinking?"
"King of Clubs," he calls back before turning away.
The King of Clubs is a dirty underground drinking den. After a terrible night there about two years ago, you, Soda and Two-Bit made a pact never to go back.
And then it occurs to you. That's exactly why Soda is drinking there.
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"Soda." He nearly jumps out of his skin when you put your hand on his shoulder. But at least this time he doesn't pound you in the face. Maybe because he's too wasted to.
You took Bonnie home a couple of hours after you kidnapped her and Lily was there alone, looking pretty pissed off. Even when she'd threatened you about walking off with her kid again, it had been half hearted.
An hour later you'd found yourself driving over to the King of Clubs. It smells even worse than you remember.
"What are you doing here?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing." You sit down on the stool next to him.
"It's okay, I was going home anyway." He tries to get down from the stool but almost loses his balance. You push him upright and shake your head.
"Not yet. Stay and have a beer with me."
Soda struggles again to put his feet on the ground.
"Where you going?"
"To the bathroom. You order the beers."
You watch as he meanders his way across the dark room before you turn to the bartender.
"Two beers please."
He nods and starts to pull your beers from a grimy pump. This guy has blue hair and piercings in his eyebrows and nose. You can't help but stare. The guy catches you and grins.
"That guy a friend of yours?" He nods in the direction Soda has gone.
"Yeah," you tell him.
"He's a hard one to work out."
"What'd ya mean?"
"Well, tending bar here for a while, you get good at working people out. He's been coming in here for weeks but I still don't get him."
You've known him practically your whole life and right now, you can't work him out either.
"Pretty face like his but he's got no eye for the girls," he says.
You raise your head sharply.
"I don't know what you think you know, but he's had more women than you'll probably ever have in your whole lifetime."
The guy laughs.
"Don't worry, I know he ain't the other way either. We get some queers in here from time to time. He set one of them straight quick as you could blink."
You've noticed that you're bolt upright in your seat and you force yourself to relax as the bartender sets your beers in front of you.
It's not long before Soda ambles back to you and sits down.
"So this is where you been hiding, huh?"
"Been a pretty good hiding place till you showed up," he mumbles.
You take a breath and try to keep your temper.
"Come on, man. It's me, talk to me. Tell me what's going on? Did something happen in Vietnam?"
And then to your complete and utter shock, he starts to cry. Not no welling of the eyes or indiscreet sniffs but great big tears falling down his cheeks. You ain't seen him cry since his parents died and even then, it was never like this, never in public, always just you two shut away from the world.
Greasers don't cry. Soda knows that rule as well as you do but you're getting to think Soda ain't in his right mind. You haul him off the stool and with your arm around him, half guide, half drag him up the stairs out of the basement bar and up onto the street.
He's convulsing now with great wracking sobs and it takes all your energy to pull him over to the Chevy and shove him in the front seat. You have to close the door behind him like he's a Goddamn chick before you rush round to your door and get into the drivers seat.
He's still crying, crying so painfully that it begins to give you a stomach ache.
"Soda." You shake him gently with your hand but he doesn't respond.
You let him cry for a few more seconds before you shake him violently and yell at him.
"Tell me what's going on, for Christ's sake! I won't tell anyone, I won't think any different of you no matter what's happened. Just tell me!"
He manages to gulp down the rest of the sobs, and when his wet eyes look at you, you see how full of pain they really are. You suddenly understand the word 'tormented' in a way you never have before.
"I-I-" He's choking on his sentence and although he does say something, it doesn't help you understand none.
"I can't say the words!" He's relieved just to get that out and you don't know what to do but keep your hand on his shoulder as he sits there crying like the world might be over.
You may be like brothers. But sometimes even brothers don't know what they should do.
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