"No!" I screamed in my mind over and over again. "NO! No, no, no!" I was panicking, racing down the streets with my heart thumping so hard I thought it would leap out of my chest. I knew, somehow, what was going on. Where she was and what she was going to do. And I was terrified.
"Please, God," I found myself praying, "Don't let me be too late. Please, I'm not too late. Help me!"
Right then, what Justin had told me on Thursday clicked. I understood what he was talking about when he said to talk to God. That was exactly what was on my heart, and I had just prayed it. The emotion was about to sweep over me, but I couldn't let it. I ran on and on, knowing where she'd be. Everything was a blur.
In the park, past the swings, through the tiny wood, I never stopped. Cutting through people's backyards, I raced on in the dark, sometimes with the moon as my only light. I came to it, the deserted construction site of a new development. There was a shadowy slump on the corner of a place paved over.
"Oh, God," I thought, "I'm too late. Why didn't you let me get here before it was too late!?"
Still, I moved onward, trying to hope. The shadow moved slightly in the dim light of a street lamp a good 50 yards away. "Thank you, Lord" was all I could think. Then, I saw the black object in her hands.
"No!" I whispered, sprinting the rest of the way.
Everything that happened next seemed to be in slow motion. Her looking up at me, a face full of surprise and confusion. The black object being let go from her hands. I saw the hammer right before it hit the ground. "No, God," but it still happened.
I wasn't ready for the shock of hearing a gun fire off. She fell back, and something inside me sank. My knees hit the ground in agony, thinking I had failed, somehow. The race was finished, and I had lost. There was no extra time anywhere. I desperately wanted what I had just seen to erase itself, like it had never happened. Then, out of nowhere, I felt a droplet of hope enter my mind. It was so small I almost disregarded it, but something inside me fostered it, and it grew. I stood up like a soldier in battle and marched forward, wanting to run, but somehow being held back. The shadow stirred.
"Sarah!" I screamed, racing to her. She just started crying, and I held her, there on the pavement, letting her weep into my shirt. I hadn't zipped up the jacket. The tears came for me, also, and I hugged her tighter.
"Thank you, Lord," I whispered. "Thank you."
The gun had fired when it hit the ground. That was a fact. But the bullet didn't hit her. There were smudges of gunpowder on her face, so I knew it had only missed her by a few inches. My world spun with everything, but I stayed firm on the outside, a rock to cling to. When her sobs slowed, I finally got out the word.
"Why?" With that came many other words, confusion and worry and hurt and frustration, and finally, relief.
"I couldn't do it anymore," she choked out. "I-I just hurt every-everyone. It's my fault."
"Shhh," I shushed her. "It's not. And you don't. Everything will be alright."
"No it won't. Olivia..." She broke down again. "What if she died? What if her brain is damaged? It would be my fault. I should have know, should have know something was wrong. She wasn't acting herself. And then... then..." Sarah stopped herself, not able to go on.
"Then what?" I asked soothingly, trying to calm her down.
"She shook. All over. I almost dropped her. I almost did. Then I thought she died, when it stopped. Oh, Pony; I didn't know what to do." She lost any composure she had. She was shaking and sobbing. I noticed then that she only had a t-shirt on. Despite the situation, I half-grinned, because it was something I would have done. Not wear a jacket, I mean.
A deep sigh escaped me. It was a sigh of relief, exhaustion, and fear. I was afraid she might try again sometime, but I couldn't let myself think that. Right now, Sarah was alive, and I held her like Soda did after my first nightmare. Just like Darry had the day my parents died, and the day I saved those kids from the fire. It all came back to me. The memories rushed, and I didn't hold them back.
I don't know how long it was before the deep sobs subsided to hiccups. Her small body shivered from the cold. I took off the leather jacket from my back, with the burn stains, and the warm wool lining. It was the jacket of a gallant hood, one that inspired fear and awe. The last little bit of the ache left, and all the good memories came back, but they didn't hurt.
Sarah zoned out, not sleeping, but not really awake, either. I almost fell asleep, but then I heard the car engine. It was low and muffled at first, but as it got closer, I knew who it was. I didn't know what time it was, but I knew it had to be at least 2 in the morning.
The headlights of the Chevy blinded my tear-stung eyes. A figure different from the one I normally knew came around. He was slouching and frantic, rather than the erect, calm, cool and collected person I knew. I met his gaze, and an understanding passed between us. Without a word, he walked over and picked Sarah up. I climbed into the back seat of the warm Chevy Lumina Euro and let Justin put her in the front.
The whole car was silent, except for the hum of the engine, and the still uneven breaths of Sarah. I was almost ready to fall asleep when the car stopped. I pushed open the door and climbed out while Justin got her out and carried her.
We went around to the side door, and I opened it without knocking. The living room light was still on, so the three of us proceeded towards it. Brie looked asleep, but as soon as I made it through the door frame she leapt to her feet. Justin followed after me.
"Don't worry," I whispered, "Everything's all right now."
"Thank you." The expression of gratitude was enough. Then Brie led Justin upstairs, and they returned a few minutes later without Sarah.
"Let's go," the deep, tired voice said. I simply nodded and followed him.
"How did you find us?" I asked plainly after a few minutes of dead silence.
"I heard the gun."
"Oh." There was more silence, then another question.
"How did you find her, and know?" The man driving next to me was one I had never heard before.
I let out a long breath. "I prayed. Then I just knew." When he didn't say anything in reply, I looked over at him. In the light of the street lamps, I saw his face. Tears were streaming down it.
"Thank you," his voice was still strong and steady. I didn't know who the gratitude was for. It could have been for me, but I assumed it was to God, because that's where it belonged.
The porch light was still on. I hoped that Soda hadn't waited up for me, and that Darry was still sleeping. I heard the hum of the Lumina pull out of the driveway as I sleepily made my way up the steps. The door creaked slightly when I opened it. Soda was out cold on the couch, and there was no sign of Darry. I quickly shut the door to keep all the warm air in.
"Soda," I whispered, shaking him. "Sodapop, wake up. I'm back."
"Hmm, what?" He mumbled, half asleep.
"Thanks for covering for me."
"Oh, it's you, Pony. No problem kid. But," before he could finish his sentence, the bathroom door opened and my oldest brother walked into the living room.
A wave of fear swept over me as I looked up at my huge big brother. We had been in this situation before, and I hoped the outcome was better this time. Maybe he would understand. I braced myself for whatever was coming next.
"Well," the tone in his voice sent alarms ringing in my head. "I'm not quite sure where to start. Maybe, where were you? Why were you out after curfew? Do you have any idea what time it is? Or, my personal favorite: What the heck were you thinking!?" With every icy word, I winced. His voice grew to a crescendo with every question.
All I could do was stare at the ground. If he was in a more rational mood, I could explain. But not tonight, when I was exhausted and worried and relieved and just kind of empty of any reasonable explanation.
"Calm down and lay off our kid brother." Our. Soda stressed the word. I was Darry's kid brother, too. I slumped down onto the couch, staring at my dirt-caked hands.
There was a sigh from the other end of the room, and then footsteps over to where me and Soda were.
"Our kid brother seems to stay out late without telling us. I've just got to know. What in the world is a fifteen year old kid like you doing out until 2 a.m.?"
"I-I, it... was, well..." he wouldn't understand.
"I said lay off, Darry. He ain't gonna tell us nothing if you're harping on him. You may not, but I trust him, and I'm pretty sure it was pretty important."
"Life and death," I managed out hoarsely. Both heads turned towards me.
"What was that?" The husky voice asked.
"I said it was a matter of life and death," I practically raised my voice to him, but I was way too worn out for it. "Oh, God," I started praying out loud, but couldn't finish. It all flashed through my mind again in a split second, and the world seemed to go black. I came back to in another minute, with two worried faces standing over me.
"Are you alright? What happened?" I wasn't sure, but it sounded like a much softer-toned Darry.
I took a breath and let it out slowly. Then took another one and spoke. "Sarah..." I choked on the word, fighting for control, but losing the battle.
"Come on, Pony. Let's get to bed. We'll work it out in the morning." This time it was Soda talking gently. Everything overwhelmed me, and I didn't want to move. I knew if we didn't work it out now I wouldn't sleep.
"No, just give me a minute." I closed my eyes and tried to shut off the images replaying in my mind. When I reopened them, I was ready. "My friend... her sister couldn't find her. You know Sarah. She brought us dinner that one time." Darry nodded, acknowledging his remembrance. "She... well. I had to go find her, and I did. I found her..." Another deep breath, then continuing on, "I thought I'd lost her. I almost did." The realization of it all hit me just then. I very nearly lost yet another one. I was shocked into silence. My head spun, my throat was dry, and I couldn't speak. There was a heavy hand on my shoulder, and somehow I couldn't shake it off. Something in my stomach did a flip, and I thought I was going to be sick at the realization of it all. I lost control then, racing to the bathroom.
It all was too much, too fast. I couldn't handle it anymore. There was a knock on the bathroom door.
"What?"
"Pony? Can I come in?" It was Darry.
"Yeah," I wiped my mouth on my sleeve.
He was wide eyed and ashen colored at the sight of me. I must have been a mess, my old ratty t-shirt still wet with tears, my long greasy hair disheveled, and my bloodshot eyes, heavy with sleep. He just stood there facing me for the longest time. I leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath and stop my pounding heart. There was a foul taste in my mouth.
"I, uh, sent Sodapop to bed." His hands were stuffed into his jean pockets.
"Oh," was all I could think to say. It was awkward standing there at two thirty in the morning in front of Darry after emptying the contents of my stomach.
"What gives?" The question came after a while of him just standing there thinking. I think it was the best way he could think up to ask. It was obvious I wasn't alright, and what was wrong wasn't very hard to see, either. Why was the only question remaining.
"Oh, Darry," I started, but couldn't finish. He stooped down and held me close, and I could feel him shaking. I was shaking too, from cold and exhaustion and worry and dizziness all rolled into one.
"It's okay. You don't have to explain. I think I understand." There was a gentleness I hadn't heard in a while. "Let's get you to bed, kiddo." I made a poor effort to get up off the wall, but my legs had gone to sleep ages ago. Darry slung his right arm around my back and walked me to bed. I collapsed onto it, letting out a long, deep breath, and closing my eyes. Darry walked out and returned a few minutes later, but I was too tired to sit up and drink the water. He set it down on the stand, patted my back, and then pushed some of my hair behind my ear.
"You need anything, holler." The retreating footsteps went out to the hall and into Darry's bedroom. The world drifted away.
Darry and Soda let me sleep in the next morning since it was Saturday. Both of them had to work, so when I finally woke up, then only bum in the house was Two-bit, zoning out in front of the television. I was feeling pretty bad still, but definitely had more energy to deal with everything.
"You such a bum, Two-bit," I shook my head at him. He really was. He never worked, never cleaned, just bummed around and ate.
"Hey!" He said indignantly. "I'm only here 'cause Soda asked me to baby-sit." He smirked.
"I don't need a baby-sitter." With that, I jumped on him, dragging him to the ground and wrestling. We rolled around on the floor, hitting into tables and furniture. One of us ran over the remote and changed the channel to the news. Two-bit was cussing, trying to defend him self. I had gotten a whole lot stronger since the last time we wrestled, and he wasn't prepared for it.
"UNCLE! UNCLE!" he shouted at me when I got his arm in a lock and was threatening to break it. I let go.
"Blast it, kid, you sure have grown." He stood up and shook out his arm. I think I had almost dislocated it. I just grinned, laughing at him.
"Haven't you ever baby-sat before? The kids are supposed to beat a greaser like you up. It's almost and unwritten rule!" I was recalling all the things Soda and I would pull when Mom and Dad got a sitter for us. Once, we locked the poor, innocent baby-sitter outside and wouldn't let her in. We were really evil. A lot of the time, Darry wouldn't help us, but sometimes we'd get him in on it. He helped duct tape another kid to a chair in the kitchen. Man, those were good times.
"Yeah, well, I ain't baby-sitting ever again!" He threw a pillow at me. I just caught it and sunk into our ancient couch. It was 11 o'clock.
"So does Soda want us to head over to DX when I'm dressed?"
"Uh huh," Two-bit answered, absorbed in the TV.
Sighing, I got up to take a shower. I was really gross, and I smelled bad. I tried to remember to take a shower every day, but sometimes it didn't work that well. When I was showered, I threw on my favorite pair of blue jeans and a clean long-sleeve t-shirt that belonged to Soda. He had all the best clothes, and since I was almost his size, I could pull off wearing them. Of course, he never noticed any difference, because most of my clothes used to belong to him anyway.
"Let's go," I was clean and refreshed, feeling a whole lot better than before.
"Fine, fine, I'm coming," Two-bit heaved himself up and we headed out the door to DX.
--Alright, since you all are bugging me to update soon, I shall. Almost done with the story... just got to wrap up a few things. To clarify a few things in this chapter: Pony's not sick, he was just so stressed and worried and exhausted that his body was affected too. It happens sometimes. Anyhow, I put in another part with Darry, because there had been some requests of that. Just to let you who asked about it know, Darry and Pony don't hate each other, but it's not like Darry is any less of a work-aholic in this story than he was in The Outsiders. He's not playing a big role in the story because he's at work. It's not like he can be around all the time. But anyhow, I hope the stuff in this chapter satisfied you all.