Chapter 7

The fire department must have been on the way because it seemed like they were there instantly. Dally had dragged Johnny out of the window at the last minute. He was swearing a blue streak. Johnny was crumpled into a ball. His face was dark with soot and I could see his arms were burned. They wouldn't let me anywhere near him. Ponyboy was still unconscious and they shooed me away from him, too. I sat on the hood of Buck's car and talked to the firemen and the policemen. I answered their questions, all of them, too much in shock to think of plausible lies, and when they asked if there was anyone they could call, I gave them Soda's name and our phone number.

They let me ride in the ambulance with Pony. I held his hand and stared out the window. We were a couple of miles from the hospital when he finally came to.

"Where …" he began, then started to cough.

"You're okay," I said calmly. "We're going to St. Francis."

"Where's Johnny and Dally?"

"In the ambulance behind us."

"Dally hit me," he said, almost pouting.

"Your back was on fire," I answered.

"Are they … did they …"

"Dally burned his arm, pulling you guys out," I said. "He's fine. He was still cussing when they loaded him in. They wouldn't tell me about Johnny. That fat guy thought his back was broken." I snorted. "They think we're heroes. And I think I made up our names."

They tried to separate us when we got to the hospital but Ponyboy made such a fuss they let us sit together on a tiny gurney, behind a curtain in the emergency room. We both waved the doctors off but I made Pony let them look at his back. Dally's jacket had saved his skin but he was going to have one hell of a bruise.

We went back to the waiting room and did just that, waited, hoping someone would give us news on the boys. They wheeled Dally and Johnny past us. Dally was still swearing at us, telling Pony if he ever pulled such a dumb stunt again, Dally would kick his ass. Johnny was still. So still. He looked small on the gurney. I stood up and took a step after him. Pony stopped me with a hand on my shoulder.

"I want to go with him," I whispered.

"I don't think they'll let you," he answered gently. "Come on, stay with me."

"No, Pony, you're okay, I want to go with Johnny."

He led me back to the chairs and lit a cigarette. I was staring at the door they'd wheeled Johnny through. Pony was still rubbing my shoulder and I was wondering if he'd bother to chase me if I just got up and went after my guy.

"Are you the Curtis kids?" a man asked. "There are some people here to see you. Claim to be your brothers or something."

We looked over and Darry and Soda were coming down the hall. Pony bolted for Soda, who caught him in a hug and swung him off the ground. I was right behind him, crashing into the two of them, almost sending us all to the floor. I had started to cry, and I think Soda was too, trying to get his arms around the both of us at once, and all of a sudden I felt Pony clutch at my hand.

I followed his gaze to Darry. He was just standing there, with his fists jammed in his pockets … and he was crying. Tears were running down his face. Darry never cried. I had decided, when Mom and Dad died, that he had forgotten how. Soda and Pony and I had spent a couple of weeks bursting into tears without any warning, but Darry just walked around with that hard look on his face and took care of everything, in the cold detached way that became his new demeanor.

We all stared, then Darry turned away. His shoulders were shaking with sobs. Pony broke away from me and Soda and ran to him, hugging him tightly.

"I thought we'd lost you guys, like we did Mom and Dad," Darry wept.

I looked at Soda. "I did, too," he whispered, his eyes welling up again. And in that moment, I got it. Darry did love me, so much so he was terrified something awful would happen to me. Or to Ponyboy, or to Soda. And because of Mom and Dad, he knew something awful could. I watched Ponyboy sobbing against Darry's chest and I knew he understood, too. Darry had lost his parents, just like we had. He was only twenty. He wasn't old enough to have three kids – but he did. How did we forget that?

Pony stepped away, wiping his eyes, and Darry held out his arms to me. I stepped into them and let him hold me tight. He swept the baseball cap off my head and I could feel his tears on my hair.

"I'm so sorry," I cried. "We're both so sorry."

He shuddered. "They just said there was a fire," he choked. "We didn't know – oh, glory, Cinny, seeing you and Pony running to us is about the best thing I ever saw in my life."

Darry kept an arm tight around me as we walked back to the waiting room. There were policemen and reporters and photographers, all firing questions at all, asking us about Johnny and Dally and the fire. Ponyboy looked ready to pass out. Darry finally told them to quit and leave us alone, then he left us with Soda and went off into the corner with a policeman. They talked for a long time.

No one would tell us anything about Dally and Johnny. Darry got hold of the doctor and convinced him that we were close enough to family. I guess the fact that no one blood related to either of them had shown up was proof enough.

Dally'd be fine – what I'd overheard was right, his arm was burned, but he'd regain full use of it. Johnny was a different story. He was in critical condition with third degree burns and a broken back. They had him doped up for the pain and if he lived, he'd be paralyzed for the rest of his life.

If? What did he mean, if?

"He's calling for Ponyboy and Cinnamon," the doctor said. "And Dallas."

"I'm Cinnamon," I said. "Can I see him?"

"Not now. It's family only." At Darry's hard look, the doctor said, "If you come back tomorrow, I'll let you in."

"Cinny." Soda tugged gently at my hand. "C'mon, let's go home."

"No, you can go. I'm going to stay with Johnny."

"No, sweetie, come on, we're going to go home." His voice was low and soothing. "You heard the doctor. You can come back tomorrow. I'll bring you myself."

I shook my head and slid onto the floor. I was exhausted and couldn't see straight and the tears just kept coming. Soda finally leaned over and picked me up and carried me out to the car. I couldn't do anything to stop him. Pony lay down in the back seat and fell asleep in Soda's lap. I sat in front with Darry, watching Tulsa go by like it was underwater.

When we got home, Darry carried Pony into the house. I went directly into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I stood under the hot water a long time. I washed my hair twice but I swear it still smelled like smoke. And I couldn't stop crying.

I heard the door open.

"I'm in here!" I yelled.

"I know," Darry said. "I brought you clean clothes." A minute later the door closed softly.

I stayed in there until the water started to go cold. Any other time, Darry would be yelling at me to hurry up. When I was done, I looked at what he'd brought me – clean underwear, warm socks, and one of Mom's old flannel nightgowns. My dirty clothes were gone.

I dressed and brushed and braided my hair, then crept out of the bathroom. I looked into Pony and Soda's room. They were both sound asleep, Soda's arm across Pony's neck. Darry had crashed, too, with his clothes still on. I pulled a blanket up over him and turned out his light.

I didn't think I'd sleep at all, but I must have, because the next thing I knew there was a ton of noise coming from the kitchen and light was streaming in my window. I laid there for a minute and placed the voices. Soda and Darry, getting ready for work. Pony. Steve and Two-Bit, too. I wondered what time visiting hours started at the hospital.

My door opened a crack. "Cinnamon?"

"I'm awake."

Darry came in and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'm not going to school," I said.

"It's Saturday," Darry answered. "Two-Bit's going to hang here."

"I could keep a better eye on Two-Bit than he could me," I said scornfully. I stretched and winced. My back was killing me from sleeping on the floor for a week and from dragging Pony across the church yard.

"Y'all are in the paper," Darry said. "Hoodlums turned heroes."

"Dally's a hoodlum," I said. "Not the rest of us."

Darry smiled. "Soda and me are going to work," he said. "You take care today, stick close to home. There's been trouble, don't go out alone."

I didn't answer. Darry did something then he never did – he leaned over and kissed my forehead. "Sure am glad you're home safe, Cinny-spice," he said, and left, closing my door behind him.

I didn't want to see anyone, or talk to anyone. I just wanted to see Johnny. I waited until I heard the car leave, and until I heard Mickey Mouse come on TV, which meant Two-Bit was totally distracted, then I got dressed and, leaving a note on my pillow for Ponyboy, went out the window.