Chapter Four

June 19th, 1967

I woke up early today. Couldn't sleep any longer, so I started to read all the nonsense I wrote in this diary last night. Promised myself not to do it anymore. But it seems like I've changed my plans. Something happened and my wish to disappear may be granted.

It would be easier if I wasn't so confused. In fact I don't know if I should... Damn. And it's all the old ladies' fault. Nosy grumpy fuckin old ladies. I wish mother were here. No, not here. There in Oklahoma.

It's 11pm now. It was like 6pm when I came home from choir rehearsal, and there was mail for me in my mailbox, which is as rare as an solar eclipse. It was not an exciting envelope, its was plain and white, a telegram. I took a closer look and, oh god, I thought I was seeing things. But I wasn't. The telegram actually came from Tulsa, Ok.

I practically destroyed the envelope in an attempt to open it fast. And furious. There was a short text and a phone number. SAW OBITUARY ON THE PAPER WE ARE WORRIED TRIED TO CALL YOU PHONE IS DISCONNECTED D. CURTIS. There were two Darrel Curtis I knew. One of them had passed away 8 months ago and the other was... my honorary godfather! Oh boy! My first impulse was to call him immediately. Poor Darry, he didn't know I was out of money even to pay the phone bill, after I spent dad's savings and mine to treat him and eventually bury him.

Then I stopped. I felt strange, paralyzed. I had in my hands a telegram from someone I loved very much and hadn't seen in 4 years, saying that he was worried and wanted (needed) to talk to me but, for some reason, I just stood there, unable to reach the public phone around the corner. I had to think.

Think? THINK? T H I N K???? Yeah, it's just that fear isn't something that I feel very often but when I do, its for real. In a minute I was sobbing and very, I mean very confused about what I should do.

I took a deep breath to try to calm down. Slowly, I went down the stairs towards the street and walked. 25 cent coins clinked in my pocket until I stopped moving. I had reached the public phone and that was it, my point of no return. Holding my breath, I started to dial. Ring. Ring. No answer.

It was taking too long for someone to answer it, so I decided to hang up. And I really was about to do it when, finally, the phone was picked up and a male voice said "hello".

Now it was me the one who took a while to speak. "Hello?", he said again, with an interrogative tone in his voice.

"Who's speaking?" I asked softly.

"Ponyboy here."

"Pony... it's so good to hear your voice..."

"Who's calling?" I could tell he was already a little impatient and it was just like him. It didn't seem like the voice I knew, though. Sounded phony, but yes, baby Ponyboy had grown up.

"Pony, hey... it's Susie. Susan Mary" I said slowly, with the ridiculous feeling that he could not remember me. This numbness was broken when he yelled:

"Oh Glory, Susan, hey Darry, it's Susie on the phone! I missed you girl!" He was yelling his lungs off and I couldn't help crying.

"Hey kiddo" I forced myself to speak "I'm missing you so much too... how are you???"

"Oh, fine, I mean... all the same I guess. How are YOU? We were so goddam worried..."

"I'm ok now" I said it and smiled as he could see my face "I got the telegram. Darry asked me to call ya. How is he anyway?"

"He's here and he's jealous of me talking to you" he laughed "ok, ok, ok Darry, you don't need to be that nervous..."

Of course the thing in my mind was... boy, they had grown up! Of course Pony wasn't still the 10 year old baby; probably he was even taller than me (which was never difficult by the way). Weird.

"Susie!" That was Darry.

"Hey, honorary godfather" I said, and he laughed "I got your message. I'm missing you. And, believe me, I'm scared to death"

"Calm down hun. Tell me everything from the beginning"

I sighed and started telling him. Four days ago, I didn't go to ballet rehearsal, went straight from kindergarten to home. I think I still haven't explained, dear fuckin diary, that finally my high IQ thing did me some good: since dad stopped working like 10 months before he passed away, after his lung crisis got worse, we both needed money and I was the one who would have to get it. All the teachers always said that I knew more and could learn more that 'regular people' and plus, I liked kids. So, I took a test to become a kindergarten teacher and was easily approved. Well, on that day I was too tired to dance so I skipped my rehearsal, went home and there, everything was pretty much normal.

That night, I was watching a little tv but not paying any attention at all, and dad came in the room. He'd been sleeping the whole afternoon. He stopped in front of me and tried to say something but he just couldn't; he tottered and then, he fell, hardly managing to breathe. I got up and stood there for a second or two, paralyzed with fear. Then I suddenly woke up and ran to ask the neighbor for God's sake to use his phone to call an ambulance. And so he did, and while the ambulance didn't come I tried to do CPR on dad, as his doctor once taught me to. Every night before bed I asked all the saints never to have to do such thing. Even though I always wanted to be a doctor to take care of people, it never occurred to me before that my dad could be the one care-taken.

At the hospital, they took dad to surgery. Doctors won't try to deceive me, so I knew he had little chances to escape. He died 5 hours later.

After I told him that, I heard Darry say:

"Susie, I..."

"Relax, man" I went on "I'm not done yet." And I fell tears rolling down my face "There is a social assistant coming to meet me in 2 weeks. She is probably sending me to an institution or something!"

"No" he said "she can't."

"Oh yes, she can. You know, I've been through a lot more than many older people. I was supporting my dad using money from my own work. At the same time I work in the kindergarten, I also dance, sing in a choir, go to school and have pretty good grades. Now, they want to convince me that all this stuff is worthless, putting me in an institution like if I was some mentally ill." I almost screamed.

"Calm down, honey, please" he almost begged.

"Darry, I'm not the coward type and you know that. But now I'm scared."

Silence.

"Darry?" I said "You there?"

I could hear him catching a breath. Then he said:

"You're coming here, Susan. You're coming to our house."

"What?" I couldn't believe he was actually saying that "But then I'll be sort of a... fugitive! Yeah! Besides, if someone catches me there, we will both be in deep deep trouble."

"I know, I know, Susie" he knew, for sure. "But... come on, it's just 9 months. Like... yeah, like vacations."

"Oh I don't know about that, Darry, I really don't".

"Hey, you know I swore to protect my little god daughter from the mean people, don't you?"

When I heard him calling me his 'little god daughter', then I started to cry. For real.

"Ok, ok" I agreed, and I confess it wasn't that difficult "I think I can find some kindergarten there in Tulsa, and probably I won't have trouble to join the City's Choir. I'm pretty sure I can pass the exam on Tulsa's Ballet" hey, I was starting to sound excited. "I just have to get some resumees without telling anyone I'm running away."

"*Going* away" he corrected me. "Just one second, Susie".

"Ok"

Darry was now talking to someone else: "Soda, there are pancakes in the fridge! You have to eat right, little buddy"

I started trembling. Yeah, I always tremble when I hear *that* name. Slowly, I began to realize it was his house that I was going to. I could hear his answer to Darry: "Ok, general. Who's on the phone?"

Darry told him it was me. And I was petrified when heard his voice asking something like "Susan who?" Hey, could someone throw a rock in my head? Come on, Sodapop, don't hurt me more, don't hurt me that bad.

Of course Darry replied him with a "Susan Mary, of course, how many Susan Marys do you know?" and he just said, as if he was completely indifferent about me or my very existence, that if Darry needed him he'd be in his room. Oh shit.

Then Darry came back to me:

"So you get all your things straight, Susie, and call me tomorrow or on the day after. Come as fast as you can, honey. I will just love to have you here. Everything is going to be fine, ok? Don't cry..."

I hung up the phone and walked home. It seemed like the only ones in the world were me and my stuff. Oh, Soda, do you still hate me after all this time?