THE BEGINNING
Chapter Six
"Maggie, hon." His whisper floats through my dream and picks me up the way he always has. And I rise from sleep to the familiar ache of life. I don't want to wake and I beg him weakly, but his soft lips stop mine from moving and I'm not strong enough to fight. That and I love him. His eyes keep searching me. "We're gonna take us a little trip okay?"
A nod is all I can manage and through sleepy eyelids I watch Darrel pull our suitcase from the top of our messy closet, causing a box of photo albums to tumble all around him, shaking the house with their fall. He leaves them behind where they spilled.
"Where are we going Darrel?" I think to ask him and my voice is sandpaper against my throat. I notice it's only my clothes he happens to be folding and stacking in the suitcase we've hardly ever used.
He stops and moves to the edge of the bed, sitting up close to my misery and takes my hand in his, kissing my pale fingers and finally my palm, which he holds tight against his mouth for a moment, shutting his eyes. I wonder what he sees.
"Is it somewhere pretty? Will the boys like it?" My questions drift across the room and slip out the window, their answers scattering down a dark road.
Darrel's words sound strangled in his throat. "You're gonna spend a little time in the hospital. Them doctors know how to get you well."
"Am I sick?" I hope I die.
"Yeah babe, you're real sick." And his cool, solid hand pressed across my forehead makes me feel safe and maybe for this second, I don't want to leave the world just yet. Maybe Darrel's hands will be enough, and they suddenly scoop me up like it's hardly an effort. I let Darrel take me out of the four walls that I've hidden behind for awhile now.
In the hallway he stops to adjust his hold around me and our suitcase slams hard against the door frame, echoing through this tired house and I start to struggle against his tight arms. "What about the boys Darrel?" A heated panic sweeps through frozen veins. But he quickens his walk and keeps his eyes forward.
"Shh...Darry's watchin' 'em." And he won't let me go back or even turn around. "They'll be just fine for the day, and I'll bring 'em in to see you, maybe tomorrow."
The lie singes my tongue when I tell her I'll bring the kids tomorrow. But I'm willing to say anything to get her in this car before the boys wake up, and I'm halfway there now. My knees are shaky but refuse to give out on me, they only move faster, lifting Maggie high across the dusty yard baked dry from a relentless summer. I'm kissing the top of her head to calm her and thank God it seems to be working. I breathe in the tangled curls of unwashed hair and I feel her body relax against mine by the time we've made it into the car.
I turn the ignition, my headlights now shining towards the only hope we have and I press the gas to get us there. But my guts have clenched when I catch the scene in my rearview, where I see a wild Pony running down the street in a long t-shirt, chasing after us and crying out to the cruel morning sky. My breath starts coming in sharp and shallow while I watch it all play out, and I won't round the corner till I'm sure that Darry's managed to grab up his little brother to carry him the long walk back home.
Ponyboy shot out of the house before I knew what was happening, with the fastest legs of any three year old ever. Now I'm racing after him, tripping through our gate, hoping Dad won't see any of this and will just keep driving Mom out of here. It's not long before I'm caught up to my screaming brother, and I don't want to hurt or tackle him, so I run beside him for a second and pick the right moment to smoothly pluck him right out of his run and hold him tight against my chest, pinning limbs so he can't hit or kick me too hard. As Dad's tail lights disappear around the lot I feel somewhat relieved. Even as Pony's throwing his fit of the century and the yellow bulbs of a few rickety porches are starting to flicker on, neighbors coming out to see who's getting abused now in the middle of the street this early in the morning.
As I walk us back home, my bare feet burning after the pavement's slapped them silly, I ignore the stares of our small audience and shush Pony who keeps begging for Mom, and I have to wonder why he even cares she's gone. All she does is sleep anymore and I'm the one this summer who feeds him, dresses him, and tells him what to do, making sure he spits out whatever he sticks in his mouth. "Calm down Ponyboy, she'll be back soon." My whisper is harsh but unheard and I guess maybe he finds comfort just knowing Mom's back in her bedroom. Always there for his naps or his hugs. Crazy what a three year old would see as normal. I stop and wince when I step on a piece of loose gravel, then limp the rest of the way.
Soda's waiting for us, hanging on the swinging gate, not caring the eastern sky is casting a grayish glow now and everyone can fully see him in only his underwear. "Get inside Sodapop. Are you nuts?" But I already know the answer to that.
xXx
Pony's calming down with the popsicle I gave him. Soda's enjoying one too and I find it strange he hasn't even asked yet why Mom and Dad left. We sit on the couch, the three of us in an odd silence since the tv's still off the air at this hour. I lean against the sofa's threadbare arm and fold in on myself, ready to close my eyes that sting from hardly any sleep. "Dad's takin' Mom to visit Aunt Mabel," I yawn out to anyone who might need answers.
"No fair," Soda whines as if he's longed to visit a non-existent Aunt Mabel his entire life.
"No fair," Pony repeats through a mouthful of bright orange ice.
I sign every paper they thrust in front of me before I can change my mind. They've already taken Maggie off somewhere, promising me I'll be able to see her when she's settled, tell her bye then. How the hell am I gonna manage that?
"So Doc, no straightjackets right? And you'll knock her out to give the shocks?" I've stopped mid-signature to eye him up and down, to be sure he gets my message loud and clear.
Dr. James doesn't even blink his bug eyes at my silent threats and assures me, "That's right Mr. Curtis. We strongly believe in sedating our patients prior to their electric shock therapies. It's less stress on the joints and the bones, protecting against breaks and dislocations and besides that, obviously it's more humane. You have nothing to worry about."
My stomach turns at how intense it all sounds. "I better not, " I say gruffly and point my pen, "or I'll shock the shit out of everyone who works here, keeping all y'all wide awake to watch me press the button." I go back to scratching my name across a hundred lines. I know I need to calm down, especially with this guy. If I get him mad at me he may take it out on Maggie. Not treat her right. But I can't control my aggression and I know it's cause I'm so angry we're in this mess in the first place. I throw down my pen and rub my temples. "I'm sorry," I barely say.
Dr. James must be used to every kind of behavior, cause he simply reaches across the table and slaps my shoulder, accepting my apology. His voice sounds almost light and encouraging. "Let's go see Maggie shall we?" And that's the only thing I want to do.
She's already laid out on the bed in a hospital gown, a needle taped to her arm. "What's that?" I ask the nurse who's busy with Maggie, as if I'd ever understand her answer. But I try to look and sound smart so they don't fuck us over.
"These are just fluids Mr. Curtis," she answers sweetly, almost like she actually cares, "so Maggie can start gaining some strength back. But we've also given her a little something to take the edge off." And this nurse is pleasant and plump like a grandma and I like her. I watch her tucking blankets all around, working to make Maggie more comfortable. Dr. James plops down on a stool and rolls over to her bedside.
"Good morning Maggie. I'm Dr. James." Maggie won't look at him. Her eyes stay fixed on me at the foot of her bed and I'm wondering if she's starting to realize I'm going to leave her here. Dr. James is still trying to make a connection. "Do you know why you're in the hospital today Maggie?" Seems she finally heard him when she starts to weakly turn her head towards the gentle doctor.
"I'm having a baby right?" she asks and for just that second she almost looks happy. My heart dies a little.
Dr. James doesn't miss a beat. "No Maggie, you're here so you can start to feel better." He takes her hand in his and it looks like she might even be listening to him. "We want you to be able to go back to living your life a little happier than you've been living it lately." And when he says that, I feel a couple of exhausted tears spring up, but they go no further than the corners of my eyes. I won't let them drop. Not here.
I swallow hard and silently pray that Dr. James will be able to bring Maggie back to a better existence, like he says he can. And I look at him now like he's the one who holds all our cards. And he does. He's the one man who might be able to save us. And the way he's talking to Maggie, I'm almost starting to believe him.
We're left alone and I use this moment to say goodbye. I'm almost hoping she's nowhere near lucid, but it turns out she sure knows enough to be afraid. She grabs my hand so hard she twists it. "I'm scared Darrel," she says in a voice that's smaller than she is and I think about ripping out her needle and running away with her. "Please don't leave me here," and I do my best to fake a broken smile when all I want to do is punch my fist through a wall.
"I ain't leavin' you here long darlin'. I promise I'm comin' back soon," and I rub my hand up and down her far too skinny arm, "but I gotta go home and take care of those crazy lil cowboys." She now rolls in the opposite direction, refusing to look at me. Mad.
"Get out then." Her words cut me, but this way just might be for the best and I stand up and rest my hand on her bare shoulder that's slipping out of the loosely tied gown. She shrugs me off and it takes all I have to walk away.
Dr. James is waiting for me in the hall and he escorts me back to the lobby, filling me in on the medications and other therapies Maggie will get while she's here, but I'm just trying not to notice the people who are talking to themselves in corners, the group of people confined to wheelchairs who watch tv with dead eyes. Try to block out the scuffle behind the doors at the end of the hallway, the staff surrounding someone who's writhing around on the floor, the doctor running through with a syringe. I feel like throwing up when I glance at a treatment room and see all the torturous looking equipment, and I turn to Dr. James once we walk past the lady who's flapping her hands and screaming to nobody.
"Maggie shouldn't be here," I say, panic finally settling in. I start walking backwards in the direction of my wife. "I'm takin' her home."
He doesn't try to stop me. Just calls after me, "She's in the right place Mr. Curtis, but nobody's going to say you can't take her with you. She's not being forced to stay here." My feet are stuck in place and I find my breath again, the buzzing in my head's finally quieting and I look around at a staff who's being nothing but kind to their patients. Dr. James politely asks me to talk some things over with him in his office. And I trust him enough to do that. Then I'll go back and take my Maggie home.
"We have various types of patients Mr. Curtis," he says once we're seated back at his desk, "and I understand your reaction at having to see some of our more...intense cases." I shake my head and lean back in my chair.
"Intense? I can't leave her with those kinds of people. I'm sorry but they're total lunatics Doc, head cases," and I'm just now noticing my hands have been shaking only when they finally start to stop.
"Obviously Maggie is on a whole different level of functioning and we would treat her as such," he says while he's neatly dropping all those signed papers in a folder labeled Curtis, Margaret C. I'm still not convinced. "You did the right thing bringing her here Darrel. Maggie's severely depressed at best, suicidal at worst. She may not be a lunatic head case, but she's far from stable." I cringe at what I already know.
Can I do this? Should I do this? I was so sure about it yesterday and this morning. What's really changed? The fact that there are other people in here worse off than her? Does that really matter? I rub my hands together nervously, breathe into them to get my blood pumping again, my brain firing again to make the right decision. I stare at Dr James. "You promise you won't hurt her?" is the only question it comes down to, the only one I care about.
"I promise," he says firmly, then he looks at me with the most confident eyes I've ever seen. "Tomorrow morning will be the first of four sessions. It's the best option we've got Darrel. We're gonna fight this and get your wife back."
The screen door bangs behind me. "Soda get in here and bring Pony," I call from the porch. "Y'all help me pick up the den. Dad's gonna be home soon."
I've let those two play outside most of the day in the sprinkler and Pony's probably getting burned by now, Soda's skin simply turning a few shades browner. I even let them shower out there and cleaning was never more fun while I aimed the hose at their wild heads of shampoo suds, washing away a week's worth of grime. I kept looking behind my shoulder though, worried Mom would catch us messing around in the dirty hose water, and I smiled every time I had to remind myself she's gone.
Two more hours pass and I'm starting to get worried. Pony's singing along loudly to Howdy Doody and that means it's almost supper time. I keep getting up to look out the window, willing Dad to get here soon. What if something happened to him? Then what would become of us? With a mom who's lost in crazy town, would I be left to care for my brothers forever? Or would we live in an orphanage and be forced to eat gross things like porridge and sleep under one thin blanket full of holes and bedbugs? Ponyboy wouldn't survive it. And Soda would probably just run away and live on the streets acting blind and begging for people to throw coins in his tin cup. The thoughts alone are enough to make me nauseated, and I jump when Soda slips up from behind, startling me.
"You scared Darry?" Soda asks, his eyes poring over every part of me, and with him, it's impossible to hide all my giveaways, all my tells. I try anyway.
"Nah," I say casually, loosening up my body so I don't look so tense. "I ain't scared. I'm just lookin' out for the first star. That's all."
I'm surprised Soda believes it. "You gonna wish on it?" he asks while Ponyboy's rolling around on the floor laughing his ass off at that Clarabell, the clown I hate. I roll my eyes and wonder what's going to become of him.
"Probably not," I shrug and walk off, cause I quit wishing on things a long time ago. Even birthday candles.
Of course I'd get a flat, and of course I had to walk to the nearest town to buy a spare, working on their sympathy so they'd accept my final offer, the only money I had on me, and of course that left me without even one damn dime for the damn phone booths. I raced the rest of the way home, and the closer I got, it felt like the boys kept getting further from my reach. It was stupid to get so worked up, screaming at cars who moved too slow. I know by now I can count on Darry to handle things for me. Thank God.
My headlights finally shine on the house, and this morning seems like a hundred years ago. I don't walk, I jog up the sidewalk and take the porch steps in a single bound, fly through the door to set my eyes on the three best things I have in my life. "Daddy!" Soda and Pony scream when I enter and I'm soothed, fixed almost with three big hugs and one messy kiss from Pony's peanut butter mouth. In the excitement I notice Darry slink away to the porch.
"Did Aunt Mabel send us a gift?" Soda asks me, eyes all excited and I grab him in a headlock, mess up his untamed hair even more.
"No she didn't, but she wanted me to tell you that you better behave. Now y'all go get your teeth brushed and I'll be in to check on you." They walk off, Soda shaking his head, disappointed he's got such a cheap, stern aunt and I almost laugh at the look on his face. Laugh? Tonight? Maybe we will survive. I go out to find Darry.
He's standing in the darkest corner, furthest from the porch light. When he looks up, there's no denying the glistening in his eyes, betrayed by reflecting streetlights. But I give him what he wants and act like I don't see them. I look out into the yard instead. "Thanks for today Darry. I know that wasn't easy this mornin'. Chasin' after Ponyboy like you did."
"Didn't last long. He was fine after a popsicle. Why were you so late?" And he's doing his best to sound like he hasn't been crying, like he's strong. But he never has to try and prove that with me. He's the strongest kid I ever met.
"I had a flat tire Darry," and now I can't help but turn to him, "and I'm sorry you worried. I didn't have 'nuff money for them phones babe." Darry wipes his eyes in the crook of his arm and I want to fall to my knees on this porch, throw my hands up and ask God if I'm doing anything, one thing at all right, but it's Darry who answers that question.
His smile is slow but it's there, and his voice is raspy but it's sure. "We did it Dad."
A/N: Outsiders by SE Hinton
Thank you so much for all the kind reviews and those who read and say nothing at all. I seriously have a special love for those who are into this one.