(Steve)
"I'm sorry," I murmured to the freshly covered plot. Darry and Soda and Two- bit had gone to their cars, but I wasn't done at the youngest Curtis' grave. "I tried to tell you in the hospital...........but I guess that was too late. It's just that.........I don't hate you, Ponyboy. I'm sorry I wasn't better."
More than that, I thought, running my finger over the simple, cold granite tombstone. I'm sorry I didn't realize how much you meant to Soda, what a big part of him you were. I'm sorry for snapping at you and thinking that you oughta sleep forever. I'm sorry for every time I snapped at you or got annoyed when Soda brought you places, because now I know that he's not the same without you, that you gave him something that I never did, that maybe I never could.
He loves you, Ponyboy. We all do.
"What're you doin'?"
I spun around, surprised that Soda had come up behind me and I hadn't heard him.
"Paying.........respect," I said slowly. Soda nodded tiredly.
"He ain't mad," he whispered, staring numbly at his brother's grave. We stood their in silence for a few minutes.
"Where's Darry?" I finally asked.
"In the car."
"Should we go back?"
My best friend slowly knelt in the dirt and touched the tombstone. "It doesn't feel right...........leaving him."
I dropped beside him. "You did it before," I murmured, staring at his parent's graves. Soda swallowed hard and nodded. We were quiet again.
"I just miss him," he choked, desperate.
"I know."
Soda sighed and rose slowly from the dirt. Darry beeped the horn from the parking lot. We turned and slowly walked away, leaving behind the three Curtis graves.
Three down, I thought sadly. Two to go. But not anytime soon---I'll see to that. I'll look after them, Ponyboy. That's the only way I know how to show you I'm sorry.
"I'm sorry," I murmured to the freshly covered plot. Darry and Soda and Two- bit had gone to their cars, but I wasn't done at the youngest Curtis' grave. "I tried to tell you in the hospital...........but I guess that was too late. It's just that.........I don't hate you, Ponyboy. I'm sorry I wasn't better."
More than that, I thought, running my finger over the simple, cold granite tombstone. I'm sorry I didn't realize how much you meant to Soda, what a big part of him you were. I'm sorry for snapping at you and thinking that you oughta sleep forever. I'm sorry for every time I snapped at you or got annoyed when Soda brought you places, because now I know that he's not the same without you, that you gave him something that I never did, that maybe I never could.
He loves you, Ponyboy. We all do.
"What're you doin'?"
I spun around, surprised that Soda had come up behind me and I hadn't heard him.
"Paying.........respect," I said slowly. Soda nodded tiredly.
"He ain't mad," he whispered, staring numbly at his brother's grave. We stood their in silence for a few minutes.
"Where's Darry?" I finally asked.
"In the car."
"Should we go back?"
My best friend slowly knelt in the dirt and touched the tombstone. "It doesn't feel right...........leaving him."
I dropped beside him. "You did it before," I murmured, staring at his parent's graves. Soda swallowed hard and nodded. We were quiet again.
"I just miss him," he choked, desperate.
"I know."
Soda sighed and rose slowly from the dirt. Darry beeped the horn from the parking lot. We turned and slowly walked away, leaving behind the three Curtis graves.
Three down, I thought sadly. Two to go. But not anytime soon---I'll see to that. I'll look after them, Ponyboy. That's the only way I know how to show you I'm sorry.