A/N: I love "Nothing Gold Can Stay" By Robert Frost. I also love The Outsiders by S.E. Hinton. Enough said. Thought I'd share. Continue on with the fanfic, if you've stuck with me this far :-)
~*~
"I'm leavin' now to meet Dal and Johnny," Ponyboy updated, shoving his fists in his pockets and strutting towards the door. He avoided all eye contact with me, for fear I might have changed my mind, most likely.
"Take a jacket, Pony," I offered sternly. "Tonight's gonna be awful cold."
"I ain't a baby," he argued.
"Fine, have it your way. Be home early. You know the curfew."
"I know, Darry."
I opened my newspaper. "Stay out too late and I'll skin you alive, and you know it."
"I know, Darry," said Ponyboy impatiently. Sodapop laughed lightly.
"Let him go. No use in giving him the third degree. Let the kid have some fun."
"All right," I said hesitantly. "Go ahead. Just remember curfew."
"I know, Darry."
He was beginning to sound like a broken record. I wondered if he ever really listened to me.
~*~
I looked at my watch. It was nearly two in the morning. Ponyboy still wasn't back yet. I had called Two-Bit's house. He said he had broken off from him and Johnny nearly two and a half hours ago. I tried Dally. No answer. Johnny's parents didn't even realize he had gone, and didn't bother to look for him either.
Johnny had it bad. Worst out of all of us. His family didn't care what happened to him, whether he lived or died or disappeared into thin air. They didn't notice him when he was there, and they didn't notice when he was gone.
"Where could he be?" I asked, lowering my newspaper. I'd been trying to read it for the past few hours. I was stuck, however, scanning the same article over and over again. I couldn't focus. I was a nervous wreck that Ponyboy hadn't come home yet. "Soda?" I asked. My brother was asleep on the couch. Poor kid...he'd worked a lot today. The kind of work he didn't need at his age.
I tried to focus on my paper again, only to fail in my efforts. I was worried about Ponyboy.
Not that I would ever tell him that.
I heard the door open slowly. I was on my feet immediately. Ponyboy looked sheepish, chewing on his fingernail in fear. Oh, he better be afraid.
"Where the heck have you been? Do you know what time it is?" I was mad. Madder than I had been at him in a long long while. He messed up this time, and he was going to know it. He shook his head nervously.
"Well, it's two in the morning, kiddo. Another hour and I would have had the police out after you. Where were you, Ponyboy?" I knew my voice was rising. I was torn between the relief that he was safe and sound, and the anger of his foolishness. "Where in the almighty universe were you?"
He jumped a bit at my tone, and began stuttering. "I...I went to sleep in the lot."
"You what?" I shouted. Soda had woken up by now, rubbing his eyes. Even I could tell in his voice he was concerned and somewhat disappointed.
"Hey, Ponyboy," he began somewhat sleepily. "Where ya been?"
"I didn't mean to," Ponyboy offered pathetically. "I was talking to Johnny and we both dropped off..."
I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. "I reckon it never occurred to you that your brothers might be worrying their heads off and afraid to call the police because something like that could get you two thrown in a boys' home so quick it'd make your head spin. And you were asleep in the lot? Ponyboy, what on earth is the matter with you? Can't you use your head? You haven't even got a coat on."
His voice began to rise, along with his breathing rate. "I said I didn't mean to..."
"I didn't mean to!" I shouted impatiently. He jumped in fear. Excuse after excuse..."I didn't think! I forgot! That's all I hear out of you! Can't you think of anything?"
"Darry..." Soda began in efforts to make peace. But he was butting in again. I love Soda dearly, he's my brother, but sometimes Ponyboy and I need to talk about things without Sodapop's opinion thrown in.
"You keep your trap shut! I'm sick and tired of hearin' you stick up for him!"
Ponyboy exploded at me. "You don't yell at him!" he shouted angrily.
What happened next was all a blur. I don't know what came over me. It was the boiling of my blood that sent my adrenaline pumping. I wheeled around and hit Ponyboy with so much force that he went careening against the door.
The look on his face broke my heart. I had never hit him before. I had never hit anyone in my family. Nobody in this family had ever hit each other before, at all. Soda's eyes were popping out of their sockets. My trembling hand was turning red. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my breathing. "Ponyboy..."
He didn't listen. He turned around and threw open the door, running away at lightning speed.
"Pony!" I called in a panic, pulling open the screen door and yelling into the night. "Pony, I didn't mean to!" In resignation I watched as he continued running at high speed away from the house and back towards the lot. It was all my fault. I shouldn't have hit him. I couldn't believe myself. It had just come out of nowhere. He had worried me so much...
I started walking out the door until Soda grabbed hold of the back of my shirt. I turned to him questioningly.
"He needs to cool down. If you tried to understand him at all, you would know that he doesn't like to be followed," said Soda coldly. He turned away from me and began walking back to the sofa, scratching at the back of his head as though in deep concentration.
I looked back out the door longingly. Ponyboy was no longer in sight. I felt my heart drop into my stomach and my knees gave out by the armchair. I collapsed into a sitting position on the cushion, cradling my head in my hands.
"I've made a mess of things, now, haven't I?" I muttered mostly to myself. Sodapop turned to me. The look in his eyes was one I didn't recognize from him. One of anger and resentment. He shook his head in disbelief.
"You sure did, Darry. You know, Pony already thinks you hate him. Now you just gone proved him right. I reckon you'll be damn lucky if he forgives you for it."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at Soda questioningly. "Hate him?" I choked. I shook my head in defiance. "N-no, I don't hate Ponyboy. There's no way. Y'all are my little brothers and I love you...I look out for you both...You're all I have left."
"Well, the way you treat him sure don't make him feel loved," Soda protested. I knew that Soda had to be exceedingly upset with me. It wasn't every day that he told me off that way. Only when I'd done something really horrible.
I knew I had made a mistake. I knew that I had done the stupidest thing I possibly could. That was the only thing that held me back from defending myself to Sodapop. Because I knew that everything he was saying was right. Soda sighed and sat down on the couch, rubbing his forehead in frustration. I didn't say a word. Neither of us did for close to an hour. At long last, Soda's anger seemed to have diminished and he softly spoke up.
"What time is it?" he asked in a whisper. I could sense the fear in his shaking voice as he played nervously with the sleeve of his shirt. I tentatively glanced at my watch and sighed.
"Almost three in the morning." I looked at Soda carefully. He seemed to be having some sort of internal struggle with himself before clearing his throat and standing.
"I'm sure he's with Johnny. Or maybe they went to Two-Bit's. His mom's always treating them real nice." He looked as though he was mostly trying to convince himself rather than me.
"I'm real beat," he declared suddenly, stretching and yawning. "I'm gonna go get some rest...Do the same, Dar. He'll be back in the morning, sitting right on the couch with Two-Bit, watching cartoons."
I nodded hesitantly. Soda was probably right. Pony never stayed mad for long...He'd be back in the morning once he cooled off.
"Night," Soda said, retreating down the hallway towards his and Pony's bedroom. I nodded.
"Right. Night."
~*~
Rest proved futile that night. No matter how much I tried to convince myself that Sodapop was right about Ponyboy returning, it was no use. I kept trying to envision myself walking into the livingroom to find him seated next to Mathews. He would be somewhat cold towards me, but not badly enough that he wouldn't talk to me at all. He'd probably be pretty quiet, maybe reading a book to distract himself. Nonetheless, he would be back, sitting there, forgiving me for the most part.
It was a nice scenario. Though unlikely. It was the unhealthy kind of wishful thinking where you try to convince yourself that someone won't be mad at you for doing something really stupid. Then you start believing that you haven't done a thing wrong. Dangerous sorts of psychological debates.
The bed started to feel hard as rocks when at last the sun peeked over the hill and the beams warmed my room. It had been a cold night, so the reappearance of the sun was comforting. In a way, it made me feel somewhat better.
I lay in bed for about five more hours, deep in thought, before anything caused me to get up.
Slam!
I sat up quickly. The front door. It was Ponyboy. I knew it. Soda was right. He just couldn't stay mad. I had planned out the whole speech in my head of how I would apologize to him, and now was my chance. I threw back the covers and raced into the livingroom, my adrenaline pumping in joy. Pony was back.
I rounded the corner. The sight I saw wasn't the one I had had in mind. My heart fell into my stomach in the most extreme sort of disappointment. "It's just you," I said sadly.
"Nice to see you too, buddy," Two-Bit said sarcastically, flopping down onto the sofa and propping his feet up on the coffee table. He flipped on the television and made himself at home.
"You seen Pony?" I asked without hesitation. Without even removing his eyes from the screen, he shook his head.
"Nope. Probably at the park with Johnny. Hey, got any beer?"
"You drank the last of it yesterday," I commented distractedly, walking into the kitchen. There was Soda, making breakfast. That meant I had dishes duty.
"Morning, Little Buddy," I said warmly. He turned to me. To put it lightly, he looked horrible, even through the feigned smile of greeting. There were dark circles under his eyes and his stance told me that he was exhausted beyond belief. It was terribly apparent that he hadn't slept a wink, either, just like me.
It was strange. Ponyboy had spent a billion nights in the lot or even at Two-Bit's. But this time we knew it was different. I had blown it and he had run off. And for him to not be back yet...That was enough to make both me and Sodapop go nearly crazy.
"What time is it?" I asked Soda softly. He must have looked a few moments before because without even checking, he answered.
"Nearly noon."
Noon. Almost twelve o'clock in the afternoon and Pony wasn't back yet. It had been nearly ten hours.
"You going into work today?" I asked him. He nodded.
"Yeah. Me and Steve don't go in for about an hour, though. You?"
"No. I'm not going," I said defiantly. I wouldn't be able to focus, anyway.
Slam! There was the front door again. Soda and I looked at one another hopefully.
"You guys better get in here," I heard Steve call. Both of our faces fell simultaneously as we headed into the livingroom. There was Steve Randle in his oily and greasy work clothes, holding a newspaper in hand. He looked distraught.
"What is it?" Sodapop asked fearfully. I could tell he was assuming the absolute worst. Then again, I was, too.
"Look at this," said Steve sullenly, handing us the paper. Soda and I each grabbed a side in horror.
"That's that Soc that beat Johnny up," observed Sodapop, glancing at the black and white photograph at the top of the article.
"Keep reading," Steve said softly, putting his hands in his pockets nervously. Two-Bit had even turned off the television and was looking distressed.
After I finished the article, I fell into a sitting position on the couch. "Oh, Lord..." I breathed. "Wanted for murder?"
"It had to be self defense," Sodapop cut in. "It simply had to be. Johnny wouldn't hurt a fly on purpose..."
"Good luck getting the judge to think so," said Steve with a sigh as Two-Bit grabbed the paper to read for himself. "It's Greaser against Soc. Who do you reckon he'll believe?"
The gang was silent. Sodapop let loose a shaky sigh. I knew he wanted to cry. Sodapop was easily the most open with his emotions of all of us. But then he tried to suppress them. Mostly for our sakes, I think. Or maybe his grief was beyond tears.
"Where d'ya think they're off to?" asked Steve worriedly. Two-Bit's eyes lit up as though he had an idea.
"I think I know of someone who'd know."
"Who?" I asked urgently.
"Dallas Winston. I'm sure Dally helped them."
TO BE CONTINUED
~*~
"I'm leavin' now to meet Dal and Johnny," Ponyboy updated, shoving his fists in his pockets and strutting towards the door. He avoided all eye contact with me, for fear I might have changed my mind, most likely.
"Take a jacket, Pony," I offered sternly. "Tonight's gonna be awful cold."
"I ain't a baby," he argued.
"Fine, have it your way. Be home early. You know the curfew."
"I know, Darry."
I opened my newspaper. "Stay out too late and I'll skin you alive, and you know it."
"I know, Darry," said Ponyboy impatiently. Sodapop laughed lightly.
"Let him go. No use in giving him the third degree. Let the kid have some fun."
"All right," I said hesitantly. "Go ahead. Just remember curfew."
"I know, Darry."
He was beginning to sound like a broken record. I wondered if he ever really listened to me.
~*~
I looked at my watch. It was nearly two in the morning. Ponyboy still wasn't back yet. I had called Two-Bit's house. He said he had broken off from him and Johnny nearly two and a half hours ago. I tried Dally. No answer. Johnny's parents didn't even realize he had gone, and didn't bother to look for him either.
Johnny had it bad. Worst out of all of us. His family didn't care what happened to him, whether he lived or died or disappeared into thin air. They didn't notice him when he was there, and they didn't notice when he was gone.
"Where could he be?" I asked, lowering my newspaper. I'd been trying to read it for the past few hours. I was stuck, however, scanning the same article over and over again. I couldn't focus. I was a nervous wreck that Ponyboy hadn't come home yet. "Soda?" I asked. My brother was asleep on the couch. Poor kid...he'd worked a lot today. The kind of work he didn't need at his age.
I tried to focus on my paper again, only to fail in my efforts. I was worried about Ponyboy.
Not that I would ever tell him that.
I heard the door open slowly. I was on my feet immediately. Ponyboy looked sheepish, chewing on his fingernail in fear. Oh, he better be afraid.
"Where the heck have you been? Do you know what time it is?" I was mad. Madder than I had been at him in a long long while. He messed up this time, and he was going to know it. He shook his head nervously.
"Well, it's two in the morning, kiddo. Another hour and I would have had the police out after you. Where were you, Ponyboy?" I knew my voice was rising. I was torn between the relief that he was safe and sound, and the anger of his foolishness. "Where in the almighty universe were you?"
He jumped a bit at my tone, and began stuttering. "I...I went to sleep in the lot."
"You what?" I shouted. Soda had woken up by now, rubbing his eyes. Even I could tell in his voice he was concerned and somewhat disappointed.
"Hey, Ponyboy," he began somewhat sleepily. "Where ya been?"
"I didn't mean to," Ponyboy offered pathetically. "I was talking to Johnny and we both dropped off..."
I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. "I reckon it never occurred to you that your brothers might be worrying their heads off and afraid to call the police because something like that could get you two thrown in a boys' home so quick it'd make your head spin. And you were asleep in the lot? Ponyboy, what on earth is the matter with you? Can't you use your head? You haven't even got a coat on."
His voice began to rise, along with his breathing rate. "I said I didn't mean to..."
"I didn't mean to!" I shouted impatiently. He jumped in fear. Excuse after excuse..."I didn't think! I forgot! That's all I hear out of you! Can't you think of anything?"
"Darry..." Soda began in efforts to make peace. But he was butting in again. I love Soda dearly, he's my brother, but sometimes Ponyboy and I need to talk about things without Sodapop's opinion thrown in.
"You keep your trap shut! I'm sick and tired of hearin' you stick up for him!"
Ponyboy exploded at me. "You don't yell at him!" he shouted angrily.
What happened next was all a blur. I don't know what came over me. It was the boiling of my blood that sent my adrenaline pumping. I wheeled around and hit Ponyboy with so much force that he went careening against the door.
The look on his face broke my heart. I had never hit him before. I had never hit anyone in my family. Nobody in this family had ever hit each other before, at all. Soda's eyes were popping out of their sockets. My trembling hand was turning red. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my breathing. "Ponyboy..."
He didn't listen. He turned around and threw open the door, running away at lightning speed.
"Pony!" I called in a panic, pulling open the screen door and yelling into the night. "Pony, I didn't mean to!" In resignation I watched as he continued running at high speed away from the house and back towards the lot. It was all my fault. I shouldn't have hit him. I couldn't believe myself. It had just come out of nowhere. He had worried me so much...
I started walking out the door until Soda grabbed hold of the back of my shirt. I turned to him questioningly.
"He needs to cool down. If you tried to understand him at all, you would know that he doesn't like to be followed," said Soda coldly. He turned away from me and began walking back to the sofa, scratching at the back of his head as though in deep concentration.
I looked back out the door longingly. Ponyboy was no longer in sight. I felt my heart drop into my stomach and my knees gave out by the armchair. I collapsed into a sitting position on the cushion, cradling my head in my hands.
"I've made a mess of things, now, haven't I?" I muttered mostly to myself. Sodapop turned to me. The look in his eyes was one I didn't recognize from him. One of anger and resentment. He shook his head in disbelief.
"You sure did, Darry. You know, Pony already thinks you hate him. Now you just gone proved him right. I reckon you'll be damn lucky if he forgives you for it."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked at Soda questioningly. "Hate him?" I choked. I shook my head in defiance. "N-no, I don't hate Ponyboy. There's no way. Y'all are my little brothers and I love you...I look out for you both...You're all I have left."
"Well, the way you treat him sure don't make him feel loved," Soda protested. I knew that Soda had to be exceedingly upset with me. It wasn't every day that he told me off that way. Only when I'd done something really horrible.
I knew I had made a mistake. I knew that I had done the stupidest thing I possibly could. That was the only thing that held me back from defending myself to Sodapop. Because I knew that everything he was saying was right. Soda sighed and sat down on the couch, rubbing his forehead in frustration. I didn't say a word. Neither of us did for close to an hour. At long last, Soda's anger seemed to have diminished and he softly spoke up.
"What time is it?" he asked in a whisper. I could sense the fear in his shaking voice as he played nervously with the sleeve of his shirt. I tentatively glanced at my watch and sighed.
"Almost three in the morning." I looked at Soda carefully. He seemed to be having some sort of internal struggle with himself before clearing his throat and standing.
"I'm sure he's with Johnny. Or maybe they went to Two-Bit's. His mom's always treating them real nice." He looked as though he was mostly trying to convince himself rather than me.
"I'm real beat," he declared suddenly, stretching and yawning. "I'm gonna go get some rest...Do the same, Dar. He'll be back in the morning, sitting right on the couch with Two-Bit, watching cartoons."
I nodded hesitantly. Soda was probably right. Pony never stayed mad for long...He'd be back in the morning once he cooled off.
"Night," Soda said, retreating down the hallway towards his and Pony's bedroom. I nodded.
"Right. Night."
~*~
Rest proved futile that night. No matter how much I tried to convince myself that Sodapop was right about Ponyboy returning, it was no use. I kept trying to envision myself walking into the livingroom to find him seated next to Mathews. He would be somewhat cold towards me, but not badly enough that he wouldn't talk to me at all. He'd probably be pretty quiet, maybe reading a book to distract himself. Nonetheless, he would be back, sitting there, forgiving me for the most part.
It was a nice scenario. Though unlikely. It was the unhealthy kind of wishful thinking where you try to convince yourself that someone won't be mad at you for doing something really stupid. Then you start believing that you haven't done a thing wrong. Dangerous sorts of psychological debates.
The bed started to feel hard as rocks when at last the sun peeked over the hill and the beams warmed my room. It had been a cold night, so the reappearance of the sun was comforting. In a way, it made me feel somewhat better.
I lay in bed for about five more hours, deep in thought, before anything caused me to get up.
Slam!
I sat up quickly. The front door. It was Ponyboy. I knew it. Soda was right. He just couldn't stay mad. I had planned out the whole speech in my head of how I would apologize to him, and now was my chance. I threw back the covers and raced into the livingroom, my adrenaline pumping in joy. Pony was back.
I rounded the corner. The sight I saw wasn't the one I had had in mind. My heart fell into my stomach in the most extreme sort of disappointment. "It's just you," I said sadly.
"Nice to see you too, buddy," Two-Bit said sarcastically, flopping down onto the sofa and propping his feet up on the coffee table. He flipped on the television and made himself at home.
"You seen Pony?" I asked without hesitation. Without even removing his eyes from the screen, he shook his head.
"Nope. Probably at the park with Johnny. Hey, got any beer?"
"You drank the last of it yesterday," I commented distractedly, walking into the kitchen. There was Soda, making breakfast. That meant I had dishes duty.
"Morning, Little Buddy," I said warmly. He turned to me. To put it lightly, he looked horrible, even through the feigned smile of greeting. There were dark circles under his eyes and his stance told me that he was exhausted beyond belief. It was terribly apparent that he hadn't slept a wink, either, just like me.
It was strange. Ponyboy had spent a billion nights in the lot or even at Two-Bit's. But this time we knew it was different. I had blown it and he had run off. And for him to not be back yet...That was enough to make both me and Sodapop go nearly crazy.
"What time is it?" I asked Soda softly. He must have looked a few moments before because without even checking, he answered.
"Nearly noon."
Noon. Almost twelve o'clock in the afternoon and Pony wasn't back yet. It had been nearly ten hours.
"You going into work today?" I asked him. He nodded.
"Yeah. Me and Steve don't go in for about an hour, though. You?"
"No. I'm not going," I said defiantly. I wouldn't be able to focus, anyway.
Slam! There was the front door again. Soda and I looked at one another hopefully.
"You guys better get in here," I heard Steve call. Both of our faces fell simultaneously as we headed into the livingroom. There was Steve Randle in his oily and greasy work clothes, holding a newspaper in hand. He looked distraught.
"What is it?" Sodapop asked fearfully. I could tell he was assuming the absolute worst. Then again, I was, too.
"Look at this," said Steve sullenly, handing us the paper. Soda and I each grabbed a side in horror.
"That's that Soc that beat Johnny up," observed Sodapop, glancing at the black and white photograph at the top of the article.
"Keep reading," Steve said softly, putting his hands in his pockets nervously. Two-Bit had even turned off the television and was looking distressed.
After I finished the article, I fell into a sitting position on the couch. "Oh, Lord..." I breathed. "Wanted for murder?"
"It had to be self defense," Sodapop cut in. "It simply had to be. Johnny wouldn't hurt a fly on purpose..."
"Good luck getting the judge to think so," said Steve with a sigh as Two-Bit grabbed the paper to read for himself. "It's Greaser against Soc. Who do you reckon he'll believe?"
The gang was silent. Sodapop let loose a shaky sigh. I knew he wanted to cry. Sodapop was easily the most open with his emotions of all of us. But then he tried to suppress them. Mostly for our sakes, I think. Or maybe his grief was beyond tears.
"Where d'ya think they're off to?" asked Steve worriedly. Two-Bit's eyes lit up as though he had an idea.
"I think I know of someone who'd know."
"Who?" I asked urgently.
"Dallas Winston. I'm sure Dally helped them."
TO BE CONTINUED
