Steve
I pulled into what I believed to be 178 Heail Lane of Windrixville. It was far out of the way, but Soda insisted he work, but the Curtis's only had one car. He was struggling to maintain his perky attitude. It wasn't working.
It was a large white farmhouse. A lot of little kids junk was in the yard, and a German Shepard was in a pen on the other side of the drive. I sat in the truck for a few minutes, drumming my fingers on the dashboard. It was nearly seven-o-clock, so I was a little early. I pulled out a cigarette and lit up, taking a long drag.
The door opened, and Pony and a cute girl with long blond hair walked out the door. She was in a jumper and a white sweater, something no girl I knew would wear. Soda was in jeans and the leather jacket with the burnt back Dally gave him long ago. She was talking a mile a minute, then stopped when she saw me. Pony started walking over, and she immediately followed. I rolled down my window.
"Hey Steve." Pony said. I messed his hair. We both knew we weren't going to really talk about it. That we were going to pretend everything was fine and dandy. Because otherwise things would go bad.
"Hey kid." He looked tired, I noted. "How's doing?"
"Hmm." Was his reply. I gave him a sideways look. "Want me to go get Soda?"
"Naw, he'll eventually realize I'm here." I shrugged. He felt into his pocket, then went to get into his bag. I tossed him the rest of my pack of cigarettes. He looked at me curiously. "I know you too well." That got something some what like a grin out of him, which I recipricated.
"Who's your friend?" The girl asked, skeptically eyeing me.
"Oh, um, Steve, this is Clarrisa. Clarrisa, Steve." He introduced. The door opened again. Soda jumped out, and a woman stood on the porch, watching us as if it were a movie. He walked over. "She lives here."
"Hi." She said, shyly, but still skeptical.
"Hey Steve." Soda said. He then took the pack from Ponyboy and gave it back to me. "I said no smoking." He said to the smaller Curtis. Boy, if he was protective of Ponyboy before, he's a tyrant to him now. As Pony get's older, they look more and more alike, I noticed. especially the way he rolled his eyes just then.
"It was worth a try." Pony said dismally.
"Ponyboy, we've gotta get to school." Clarrissa said to Pony, who swallowed hard.
"Okay." Pony said, quietly. "Seeya Soda, Steve." He and Soda stared at each other for a moment, then he and the girl walked away, toward the bus stop. We both watched, then Soda climbed into the truck beside me.
"I hate when he looks at me like that." He said ruefully. "He seems so defenseless. It's like I'm abandoning him." He rested his chin on his closed hands.
I pulled out of the driveway and started back to the city.
"What's it like?" I asked.
"It's weird." Was his hesitant response. "There a lot of kids, and I don't have to do anything, like housework. And we can't smoke." He sighed. "They have a washing machine. I mean, I"m used to washing my clothes with handsoap in the sink. And I'm sleeping below Ponyboy, not beside him, and there's no noise or fights or nothin'." He sighed. "I hate this. I hate this."
"No one likes it, that's for sure." I told him in a voice that resembled a school councelor. Ech. "We'll make it through this. Calm down." He sighed, straightening his DX shirt. He took a cigarette from the pack, and lit up. He only smokes when he's real nervous.
"Right. We'll be okay." He said, sighing.
He was silent the rest of the ride. I hated the state. Blasted state. Damned state. Soda was supposed to be the happy one. He wasn't supposed to be miserable. That's my job. Two miserable people are no fun at all.
I sighed. This was going to be a long day.
I pulled into what I believed to be 178 Heail Lane of Windrixville. It was far out of the way, but Soda insisted he work, but the Curtis's only had one car. He was struggling to maintain his perky attitude. It wasn't working.
It was a large white farmhouse. A lot of little kids junk was in the yard, and a German Shepard was in a pen on the other side of the drive. I sat in the truck for a few minutes, drumming my fingers on the dashboard. It was nearly seven-o-clock, so I was a little early. I pulled out a cigarette and lit up, taking a long drag.
The door opened, and Pony and a cute girl with long blond hair walked out the door. She was in a jumper and a white sweater, something no girl I knew would wear. Soda was in jeans and the leather jacket with the burnt back Dally gave him long ago. She was talking a mile a minute, then stopped when she saw me. Pony started walking over, and she immediately followed. I rolled down my window.
"Hey Steve." Pony said. I messed his hair. We both knew we weren't going to really talk about it. That we were going to pretend everything was fine and dandy. Because otherwise things would go bad.
"Hey kid." He looked tired, I noted. "How's doing?"
"Hmm." Was his reply. I gave him a sideways look. "Want me to go get Soda?"
"Naw, he'll eventually realize I'm here." I shrugged. He felt into his pocket, then went to get into his bag. I tossed him the rest of my pack of cigarettes. He looked at me curiously. "I know you too well." That got something some what like a grin out of him, which I recipricated.
"Who's your friend?" The girl asked, skeptically eyeing me.
"Oh, um, Steve, this is Clarrisa. Clarrisa, Steve." He introduced. The door opened again. Soda jumped out, and a woman stood on the porch, watching us as if it were a movie. He walked over. "She lives here."
"Hi." She said, shyly, but still skeptical.
"Hey Steve." Soda said. He then took the pack from Ponyboy and gave it back to me. "I said no smoking." He said to the smaller Curtis. Boy, if he was protective of Ponyboy before, he's a tyrant to him now. As Pony get's older, they look more and more alike, I noticed. especially the way he rolled his eyes just then.
"It was worth a try." Pony said dismally.
"Ponyboy, we've gotta get to school." Clarrissa said to Pony, who swallowed hard.
"Okay." Pony said, quietly. "Seeya Soda, Steve." He and Soda stared at each other for a moment, then he and the girl walked away, toward the bus stop. We both watched, then Soda climbed into the truck beside me.
"I hate when he looks at me like that." He said ruefully. "He seems so defenseless. It's like I'm abandoning him." He rested his chin on his closed hands.
I pulled out of the driveway and started back to the city.
"What's it like?" I asked.
"It's weird." Was his hesitant response. "There a lot of kids, and I don't have to do anything, like housework. And we can't smoke." He sighed. "They have a washing machine. I mean, I"m used to washing my clothes with handsoap in the sink. And I'm sleeping below Ponyboy, not beside him, and there's no noise or fights or nothin'." He sighed. "I hate this. I hate this."
"No one likes it, that's for sure." I told him in a voice that resembled a school councelor. Ech. "We'll make it through this. Calm down." He sighed, straightening his DX shirt. He took a cigarette from the pack, and lit up. He only smokes when he's real nervous.
"Right. We'll be okay." He said, sighing.
He was silent the rest of the ride. I hated the state. Blasted state. Damned state. Soda was supposed to be the happy one. He wasn't supposed to be miserable. That's my job. Two miserable people are no fun at all.
I sighed. This was going to be a long day.