I turned the knob, walking forward at the same time. Smacked myself silly when the door didn't open. Shoot. Forgot. We're locking the deadbolt now. Key, key…where's the damn key? I knocked it off the jamb and it bounced off my hand. I chased it downward, missing again and again. Man, I shouldn't have had that third beer. Darry always says I'm a light weight. I hardly ever drink, anyway, but tonight I just said what the hell. Didn't help that it had been several hours after we ate, either. Clumsy. Clumsy, clumsy. Sodapop's all fuzzy with a buzz. I smiled at that thought.

It took me another few seconds to fit the key in the lock. No wonder girls don't like getting friendly when a guy's had too much to drink. Can't be too fun, all that hit and miss. I chuckled softly at my own joke, pressing the door closed and locking it back up. The house was dead silent.

Cool water from the bathroom tap woke me up some and took a little of the buzz with it. And it let a little reality back in. We'd seen a clip of the late news at Mike's place. I was sure glad Darry was being so strict with Pony, because I know he'd be really rattled if he knew what those kidnappers were promising to do if they didn't get their money in two more days.

It took over the whole table for the next several hands of poker. Do you really think they'll kill him? Where they heck do they think the money's going to come from if the pension fund is empty? Where do you think they'll dump the body if they kill him? Probably on the train tracks. Or maybe Dixon Pond.

I brushed my teeth and thought about Pony, how he liked to swim there. But I couldn't tell him to stay away without telling him why. I rinsed and spit and tossed my toothbrush back in the medicine cabinet. Time for bed. I was not going to like myself in the morning when the alarm went off, that's for sure.

I had my shirt up over my head, so I didn't notice right away. But then I saw and heard Pony and my stomach turned. He was all stiff, his fists clenched, and he was breathing real funny. His mouth was working like he was trying to say something, and I bet if he was awake it would be more of that 'don't let go' stuff. He was pale and shaking and damp with sweat.

"Pony," I whispered, sitting down next to him. I put my hands on his wrists. He didn't seem to hear me. "Pony!" I said a little louder. I didn't want to scare him half to death. But he still didn't hear me. He stayed asleep, trapped in his head, in whatever awful moment he was dreaming. "Ponyboy!" I urged, moving my hands to his shoulders and shoving gently. Darry appeared in the doorway, groggy as hell but worried just the same. "He won't wake up," I said. "PONY!" I practically shouted it, but he just turned his head to the side and sort of moaned.

Darry disappeared from the doorway. I looked back at Ponyboy. What if he was trapped asleep forever? What if he just wouldn't wake up? Was that possible? Was–

Darry eased down on the other side of his bed and put a firm hand on Pony's chest. "C'mon, Pony!" he called. And then wincing, he gently pressed the ice cube he had in his other hand against Pony's neck.

Pony jolted awake with a loud gasp, his eyes wild and his breath ragged.

"Take it easy," Darry said, touching his forehead.

"What?" Pony gasped, his voice tight. "What?"

"Nothing," Darry said. "You were dreaming."

Pony looked at him, then looked at me, seeing us, I think, for the first time. He struggled to sit up. I helped him. "You're okay," I said, feeling his shoulder tremble under my hand.

"Man," he sighed, rubbing his face with his hands.

"It looked bad," Darry said softly, rubbing the back of his head. "Want to talk about it?"

He shook his head, but then he said, "Just…more of the same. Out behind the barracks," he added. "Only Randy was there, too. And I–I–"

"Don't," I said. "It ain't real."

"I know," he nodded. "But I left him for real," he croaked, his voice catching.

Darry's eyes closed, and he looked pained. "Pony," he said quietly, "you didn't leave him. Not the way you're thinking, anyway. If you weren't here, with us, the police wouldn't have any ideas at all."

Pony didn't answer. We all just sat quietly for a couple of minutes, the room silent except for the sound of Pony's breath, which gradually slowed.

"C'mon," Darry said after a couple more minutes, "lie down."

Pony did as he said. He already looked half asleep again. Not Darry. Darry looked miserable…tired and miserable. And wide awake.

"It's ok, Darry," I said. "Pony'll be okay. Won't you?"

He nodded a little. "Yeah. Go back to bed, Darry. It's going to be a long week for you, fixing Maggie's roof all weekend," he mumbled.

Darry's mouth tugged up at the corners just a little. "You sure?"

"Scooch," I said to Pony, flopping down next to him when he wiggled closer to Darry. Darry just looked at us for a minute, and he ruffled Pony's spiky hair for a second. Then he got up.

"Night, guys," he said.

"Night, Darry," I said. Pony slurred something unintelligible and rolled toward the window. I rolled the other way, putting my back against his. Contact always seemed to help, but it didn't seem to matter whether it was my hand or my arm. Or my back.

If he dreamed at all again, I didn't notice.

I felt like a zombie as I moved around the kitchen, pouring coffee and sitting down with it and the rest of last night's dinner. I barely noticed the taste of cold pasta with hot dogs. Two more days. Just two more days, and then maybe Dr. Pierce, that friend of Dr. Joseph's, could help. I didn't expect miracles, but I sure hoped to see some improvement.

I know I kept my cool, but the fact that we couldn't wake Pony up last night scared the hell out of me. Maybe we should stop with the sedatives. They pull him down just enough to keep him asleep, but not enough to help him. Like when he sleepwalks. We can't wake him up then, either, but he still sleepwalks.

I didn't want to go to work, but there wouldn't be any use in staying home. Awake, he's ok. Not great, of course, because he's still got all of this junk on his mind when he's awake. But these days it seems he's a lot safer when he's awake than asleep.

I needed to start those calls, see if I could track down that Wade. First Sergeant Aaron Kitchner, actually. But Ponyboy just calls him Skinny Wade. I'd have to find a way to get Pony out of the house, though. I didn't want him to know what I was doing. That way, he wouldn't get his hopes up about finding any answers.

Soda came stumbling out just as I was filling the empty casserole dish with water. Knowing Pony, he'd wash it well before dinner. Soda nodded at me, his eyes still half shut. "You leaving?"

"Just about," I agreed, heading to my room for my work boots. "Listen," I said as he followed me, "I want to get Pony out of here for a while tonight so I can make some calls. I don't want him here when I try to find Wade."

Soda nodded. "Ok."

"How late do you work tonight?" I asked, sitting on the edge of my bed to put on the boots.

"Four," he yawned.

"I'll probably get off around four, myself. Why don't I swing by the DX and pick you up?" He nodded and turned to head back down the hall. "Maybe you'd better wake him up before you leave," I suggested. What if he had another dream and we weren't here to pull him out of it? What if he started sleepwalking again?

Soda frowned. "I guess you're right. I hate to do that, though."

"I know," I said, rising. "But I'd hate to think about him caught up in a nightmare with no one here."

Soda's frown deepened. "I guess."

"Alright," I said, scooping my keys off the counter, "I'll see you around four."

Locking the door behind me still felt strange. I suppose I didn't have to, since Soda was up, but I also didn't want to fall out of the habit. I hoped we could go back to leaving it unlocked after a while.

School was going to be starting soon. I'd be lying if I said I haven't been dreading it. What if Pony's nightmares didn't let up? What if he kept sleepwalking? It was sure to play hell on his grades. Then again, having a place to be and other things to think about would probably be really good for him. All that studying might wear out his mind, allow him to sleep soundly.

I looked at the sky as I got into the truck. Bright blue and nearly cloudless, it made the world look fresh again. The air was pretty warm, but not as unbearably hot as the week before the storms had rolled through. I thought of Maggie. She was probably very relieved this morning, if she was up yet. No more watching the ceilings.

If only I could stop watching mine.

"Hi, handsome," Two-Bit pretended to flip his hair. "Fill me up?"

I grinned. "Not even in your dreams," I answered, twisting off his gas cap. "What're you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

He sighed. "My old man had me on the early shift today. Had me running all over the place."

"You gonna hang around for a while?"

"Guess so. Why?"

I shrugged. "Just wondering. Anything new on the news?"

"Haven't heard anything," Two-Bit shrugged. "Why?"

I frowned. "Pony had a bad nightmare last night. We couldn't wake him up at first. Darry had to stick a piece of ice on him."

"Man," Two-Bit shook his head. "Maybe I should go by your place, spread a little sunshine."

I nodded. "Good idea. Darry wants me to get him out of the house tonight."

"What for?" He looked puzzled, and I realized we hadn't told any of the guys about what Pony told us about Paul. I haven't even told Steve. Darry said not to.

I shrugged. "Just to get Pony's mind off things. He's going a little crazy, you know, being stuck at home all the time."

"Where you gonna go?"

That's the thing. I had no idea. Normally, you know, we could just play football in the lot. But with Pony's knee, that was out. We could hang around here, I suppose. Pony could play pinball and me and Steve could play pool, but Buck doesn't really like it when we hang around unless we're paying customers. Paying customers besides just the change we put in the pinball machine, pool table, and jukebox, that is. Pony loves the movies, but he knows I don't. If I suggested a movie, he'd know something was going on. We could go to the park, but the cops like to push everybody out at sundown.

"I don't know," I finally said. "Maybe just down to the Dingo."

Two-Bit shrugged and handed me four dollars for his gas. "Keep the change, cutie," he winked at me.

"Shut up," I laughed, tucking the bills in my pocket.

I sure hope he can get Ponyboy laughing. When I woke him up this morning, he was real quiet. I know he's still thinking about that dream. He 'fessed up, too, that Two-Bit told him about Randy. I promised I wouldn't tell Darry, though. Two-Bit still wore the faint shadow of a bruise from that punch Darry gave him Saturday night. He sure didn't need another one.

"SODA!"

I turned toward the garage. By the sound of it, it wasn't the first time Steve had called for me. "I'm coming!" I yelled. "Hold your horses!"

Still worrying over Pony, I ducked into the darkness of the shop.