Autumn Leaves
Chapter 29
Second Cousin's Brother's Nephew, Twice Removed
XXX
"Pop, really, you ain't gotta do this."
"She needs to know. You're her son, Steven. Her only kid."
I shouldn't have been standing here listening to this, but I couldn't make myself leave, either.
"If she gave a damn about either of us, she wouldn't have split years ago in the first place."
"Boy, don't talk that way about your momma." Mr. Randle's voice deepened.
"Why not? You talk about her worse." Steve countered in an equally low tone.
"I have that right. I'm the man she two-timed on. There are things you don't know ... she ... it wasn't just ... oh, damn it to hell son! Fine, you want the whole truth? Well, I guess you're old enough for it by now. Your mother wasn't just messing around on me with him, she was using, Steven, using, and he was her supplier. I never told you about the drugs, it ain't exactly something I wanted you to know about."
"Save it. I knew."
"You did?"
"Hell yeah, Pop. I knew. I ain't blind and stupid. I was old enough to know, old enough to understand. I saw what was happening, more than you did."
A heavy silence sat there a moment.
"Sorry, Steven. Anyway, I have a right to hate her. You, however, don't. She's your mother. Hate me, for all the wrong I've done to you, God knows I deserve it. She didn't leave you, Steven, she left me. You just happened to get left behind in the process, mixed up in her mess."
"Shit, Pop, she left us both. She didn't want me from the get-go, and I don't want her back. She's probably moved up to smack by now. Her brains probably fried. She wouldn't know me from a stranger on the street."
"She's in rehab, Steven. In Oklahoma City. She called a month ago, asking about you."
"Really. Asking about me. That's a damn lie and you know it."
It wasn't a question and he didn't sound surprised. He said everything with daring disbelief oozing from every word.
"Fine. Money. She wanted money. But she did ask about you. I told her you were finally doing good and to stay the hell away from you. But I can call her back. She should know you've been hurt. Hell, son, I nearly lost you."
"Your compassion overwhelms me pop," Steve said icily. "Just where the hell were you that night?"
"Don't take that tone with me, boy. You might be eighteen, but as long as you live under my roof, you'll treat me with the damn respect I deserve. And to answer your question, I was in a meeting with some of the men I work with."
"Hell, Pop, is that what you're calling it these days? A meeting? You were down at Jumpin' Jenny's in the River Street district getting plowed. Like I said, I ain't..."
Steve never finished his sentence, the sound of fist hitting flesh wasn't something new to me. To think it'd happen here was the surprising factor. I pushed the door open hard, just in time to see Steve rubbing his jaw where it was turning red and Mr. Randle backing away, his hand still balled up in a fist. Both wore expressions of fury and shock.
"Afternoon, Mr. Randle. I think you'd better leave now. Now, sir. Right now." I was two seconds from taking that sorry ass of his and slamming him face first into what I knew to be painted cinder block walls. The cast on my hand wasn't what was stopping me, nor was it fear of this middle aged slightly overweight piece of scum. It was knowing if I did anything here, Pony would be stripped from my custody in less time than it takes to blink. Hospital employees often make credible, reliable witnesses that no judge would dispute.
"Sorry, son. I'll check in on you later."
He turned and whirled past me; it taking more self control than I thought possible not to touch him in the process. I watched him leave then turned to Steve.
"You okay?"
"How much did you hear?"
I looked at him. "You really should ask how much you want me to forget instead."
"Shit." His head rolled back onto the pillow, his eyes staring at the ceiling.
"Don't sweat it. How ya doing?"
"Better. The nurses are anal retentive about me getting up to walk. I did, but damn, it feels like I got tackled headlong in the gut. They tapered down my pain meds too. The new stuff still works, but don't leave me feeling so loopy. How's Soda?"
"Better. They've taken off his sedation. He might come off the breathing machine today."
"Two-Bit told me how bad he is. Hey, go get a wheelchair. I need a change of scenery. Lets go visit." He started to get up, pulling the linens off and swinging his feet over the bed.
"He's in the ICU, Steve; not the gift shop. I don't think they're gonna let you just roll on in."
"It's worth a shot. They haven't plugged me back into anything yet. They'll never know. C'mon, Darry. If you don't take me, I'll only end up stealing a chair and going down on my own. You know I will."
I raised my eye at him. "You know, for all your arguing, you and Ponyboy are more alike than you think." I found a wheelchair at the end of the hall and had Steve in it, wheeling him toward the elevators in two shakes of a lambs tail.
X
"Darry?" Michelle asked as I came through the double doors with Steve in tow. "I'm sorry, but while your family can come in, other visitors can't."
"But Michelle, he is family. This is Steve, my second cousin's brother's nephew, twice removed." Lets see if one of Pony's answers actually worked on anyone else. I doubted it. Oddly enough, she laughed. I'll be damned!
"Yeah, right! Tell you what, leave the wheelchair by the nurse's station and if he can walk, he can have three minutes. Only three! I'll be watching."
I hope so. I smiled. "Thanks." As she walked back to the other patient's room, I helped Steve stand up.
"Alright Steve, you heard her. Don't make me look bad, and no passing out."
"Hell, Darry, if I didn't know better, I'd say you two were kind of chummy. Already on a first name basis?"
"Shut it, Steve, or I'll haul you back upstairs in one minute, not three. She's wearing a ring, in case you didn't notice, and seeing as how it's on her left hand fourth finger, I doubt it's just for friendship."
I led him to Soda's side. "Hey, Pepsi, look who I found wandering around."
Soda's eyes shined, his heart rate went up and his eyes got red and misty.
"Hey, you nut-case, none of that. No waterworks. Yeah, buddy, I was worried about you too." Steve took Soda's hand, each gripping the other. Steve did a fast look up and down the bed, taking it all in but saying nothing. I saw the concern in him by the way he set his jaw, he wasn't expecting this. "I sort of snuck in. How ya holding up?"
Soda nodded some then gave a weak shrug of his shoulders. His eyes clamped tight, then relaxed.
"Look, you get better, then we're gonna go find those bastards and really show them up."
"Steve, not here." I demanded in a low undertone. He looked at me and gave a slight nod. He thought a moment then broke out in a big grin.
"Hey, here's something to think about. Darry's got a thing for your nurse!"
Great. I'd wait until he got better, then I'd hurt him. At least he had the courtesy to not yell it. Soda's eyes looked at me and back to Steve's, then a very visible grin also spread on his face.
"Steve, I'm going to pound you. I told you, she's taken already so shut the hell up." I threatened softly. I guess Soda tried to laugh, cause next thing I knew, it looked like he was choking. Alarms went off everywhere. Michelle came back in.
"Alright, no getting my patient all riled up. Sodapop, relax and try to breathe normal. Darry, time to take your third cousin's brother's son - or whatever cockamamie relation you gave him - back to his room. Your three minutes are up."
"C'mon you troublemaker. Soda, I'll be back in a bit." Soda nodded, the grin still present. The Inhalation Therapist, Mark, was coming in anyway... a needle in hand.
Steve sat in the wheelchair and was silent for most of the ride back. Then he looked up at me. "He is gonna be alright, ain't he?"
"In time, Steve. They said he'd be fine."
I took Steve back to his room, his nurse giving me a nasty look with her hands squarely on her hips when I got him back to his room and helped him back into bed. As my side gave an unfriendly twinge, I'd just realized how long it had been since I'd had any of my own pills. I waited until his nurse left, then swiped his drink and took two, hoping they'd work fast.
"Crap, Darry, how bad were you hurt?"
I winced. "It's not bad. Not like you two. Cracked ribs and a busted hand. Lost my footing and fell into the mechanics pit. I wasn't expecting the sudden fall and landed on my hand wrong, then bounced onto my side I guess. It happened too fast and that's the only thing I can think of. It was sort of a good thing. That's where I found Soda - in the pit. I'd never have gone there otherwise, and I sure couldn't see a damn thing through all that smoke."
"How much work you gonna lose?"
I shook my head. "Not much. I go back in a couple more days. I can still use my right hand. I'll be slower than usual, but I'll get the work done. I'll have to. Soda's going to be out of working shape for a long while. His boss better not let him go. If that rebar hadn't been sticking up in the mechanic's pit, he'd have avoided losing part of his lung."
Steve lay back, speechless and a shade paler.
"Don't worry about it. The important thing is that both you and Soda are going to be fine. Anything else, we'll deal with. Just like we always do."
Steve grinned. "Yep. Maybe it's time for Two-Bit to go earn his keep around here."
I looked at him, grinning too. "Yeah, that's something even I'd like to see."
XXX
Tulsa General loomed ahead. I reached up and pulled the cord, the buzzer going off at the front and the driver pulling up to the curb. The doors opened and I hopped out, my books slipping and falling to the ground as I exited the bus. I grumbled about it, hastily picking them up and trying to double time it over to the hospital entrance.
The elevator seemed to take forever. Finally, the doors slid open and I got out. The big "ICU" sign pointing me to the right. I found Darry sipping something from a can as I came over.
"What are you doing here? Is he okay? What happened?"
"Pony, hold on, kiddo. Nothings wrong. They're taking the breathing tube out is all. Hopefully, he'll be able to talk again."
"He will? That's great!" I needed to hear his voice again.
"What is that all over your shirt?"
I looked down, seeing the red spots that stood out against my light green pullover.
"Nothing. I had a bloody nose earlier. How long before we can go in?"
"A while, and what do you mean you had a bloody nose? Were you in another fight?"
"No, I wasn't in a fight. Jeeze, Darry, is that all you think I do these days? Get in fights?"
"Well, so far, kiddo, your record ain't all that great. If I remember correctly, you've been in a fight during a fire drill and another in an alley."
"The alley fight wasn't at school, so it doesn't count." I corrected.
Darry sat on a chair arm, trying to glare at me but he was too tired to put up the effort.
"It counts, Ponyboy. They all count. What happened? Or are you trying to tell me your nose just spontaneously sprung a leak?"
I thought about it. Sounded plausible. I nodded. "Yep, that's what happened."
He shook his head.
"Darry?" Some cute nurse with almost shoulder length, dirty blond hair was looking at him. He turned.
"How is he?"
She opened the door wider. "It's out. He's able to talk some, but I must warn you, his throat is extremely raw and sore. I wouldn't recommend trying to chat a lot right now, he still needs plenty of rest."
"Got that, Ponyboy. No chatting."
I nodded.
"Now this one I can see the resemblance in!" She was looking at me and smiling, I had no idea what she was talking about, but felt my cheeks go red as I shrugged my shoulders and followed along.
"Yep, this is the youngest one. My other brother, Ponyboy."
Further introductions weren't given as we had gotten to Soda's beside, and I wasn't paying either of them any attention anymore. Soda was wearing a mask that spouted off a cold mist over his face - much like a dragon snorting. I would have laughed but I was too worried. At least he was sitting up against the pillows, looking worn out but smiling some. He also wasn't tied down anymore. I was glad, that had bugged me.
"Hey, Darry, Ponyboy. How are ya?"
I smiled at the sound, but the nurse really didn't describe it well. His voice was so raw I didn't recognize it. It sounded like sandpaper. More a shrill husky whisper than a true voice. It hurt to hear. It had to hurt to use.
"Don't talk, Soda. Just relax."
Some other guy in the room leaned over to shake Darry's hand. He had been pushing the breathing machine out of the way, giving us a bit more room. "This," he said, indicating the mask Soda was wearing, "just gives him cool moist air to breathe in, helping relax his vocal cords. It'll stay on an hour."
"Thanks, Mark. For everything you've done. I truly appreciate it. We all do."
"My pleasure. Sodapop, I'll come back to check on you soon."
"Thanks." Soda scraped out. It was worse than nails on a chalkboard.
He looked better. It seemed over half the tubes that were in him yesterday were gone now. Yesterday, I hadn't been convinced he was going to live. He looked totally better now, except for that long cream colored tubing that bubbled on the floor by the bed that I was very careful not to step on. I looked around the room. In addition to the bubbling bottles, there were still three IV's bottles floating above him, he was still connected to machines on either side of him, and monitors still beeped with every beat of his heart.
"Pone, c'mere." Soda called. I came closer, suddenly unsure of everything. He patted my hand, tugging me down even more. I sat by him on his bed. "I'm alright. Really. I'm gonna be fine."
I nodded, feeling the warm fluid suddenly cascade down my nose again. I'd already changed my shirt at school, my other one catching the red drips that fell during my next -to- last class. I hopped off the bed, wrenching free of Soda's weak grasp and pulled some tissues out of a box on a nearly table, sitting down as I tilted my head back. Darry was at my side in an instant.
"Pony? Let me see. Pone, move your hand and let me see!"
"It's nothing, Darry. Really. Just a nosebleed."
His eyes showed amped up concern. I tried to shoo him away, but he wouldn't budge.
"Darry, please. You go making this more than a bloody nose and it's only going to stress Soda out. Now, for the love of everything you value in life, just let it go!" I hissed. Soda'd been watching, but I knew he couldn't hear me. Darry's eyes went from me to Soda, and I could tell he conceded to my request.
I got up and went back to Soda's side. "I better go stop the flood before they think you sprang a leak or something." He nodded and I turned to leave, cursing myself for this.
XXX
"What's wrong with him?" Soda croaked out.
"I don't really know." At least I was honest. I could tell Soda didn't believe me.
"Dar, is he sick? Don't hide...."
"I ain't hiding nothing from you. I really don't know what's going on with him right now. He says it's just a nosebleed. He wasn't in another fight, so maybe that's all it is. Don't worry, Soda. I'll keep my eye on him." Great, just what I needed, something new to worry over.
Soda sank back against the pillows and nodded. He rested a few moments then turned back to look at me.
"Does he know? Did you tell him?"
I searched his face. "About what?"
"The draft...."
"No." I cut him off. "I haven't, and I won't. This ain't really the time or place for you to worry about it anyway. You're not going and that's that. I spoke with the doc, he wrote a letter," I pulled out the folded piece of paper and tapped it with my finger, unfolding it to read a part of it to him. "... saying you had been, quote, 'aggrievedly injured and sustained multiple wounds that required the temporary use of life support. Mr. Sodapop Curtis has lost a portion of his lung that will require many months of adjustment and rehabilitation on his part to return to a level of activity near his previous state.' There's more, but it all means the same." I folded it up and put it back in my pocket.
Soda looked devastated. "Hey, c'mon buddy. It just means you can't go off and play Army any time soon. You're gonna recover nicely."
He looked at me as if he didn't believe me. "How long am I gonna be like this?" He tried to lift his arms with purposeful motion, but they fell limp to the bed.
"You're gonna get your strength back, little by little."
Michelle walked back in. "Everything okay, Sodapop?"
"Yes, thanks."
"Michelle, how long do you think it'll take before he'll be back to doing stuff? Like driving and working and all?"
She thought about it. "You should be up and moving again in a week, once that tube is pulled. Then after your ribs heal, you should be steadily getting better each day. However, the doctor usually won't release you to work again for even longer, and you'll need to do some pulmonary rehabilitation to build up your endurance. What kind of work do you do?"
"Mechanic," he answered.
She scrunched her eyes. "Drat, I'm sorry, Sodapop. I should have remembered. Well, as long as you don't go lifting, moving or doing anything very torquing to your body, perhaps a month or two. Of course, that's all up to the doctor."
"Really? A month or two?" A month I could handle, two would be harder. I would have to find out about this rehabilitation too, but that would wait for now as Pony slinked back in and returned to Soda's side just then. I watched them carefully, Soda grinned and Pony smiled back, but his eyes wouldn't give up that worried look.
"It's up to the doctor. Don't put all your eggs in a basket yet, but we'll see what happens. Soda, is your breathing okay?"
"Yes, thanks."
"Good. Call me if you need me." Michelle slipped back out of the room again.
"You okay, Pone?"
"Yeah, Just a nosebleed. Nothing to worry about. How are you doing? You in pain?"
"It's okay. If anything, my rump hurts from sitting on it for so long."
Pony laughed. I smiled. Soda did know how to work him, better than I did.
"I'm gonna be fine, kiddo. Promise, swear, cross my heart and all that jazz. Now stop worrying yourself sick over me." Soda patted Pony's knee, too weak to raise his hand higher.
"Only if you stop talking and rest that voice." Pony grinned, some relief finally showing up.
"Deal."
XXX
Calla Lily Rose
