I was more than thrilled when Pony finally opened up to what was bothering him. He got to go home the next day, and from there, things were great.

Pony was much more open. He would talk to us and tell us his problems during the school day. It was a week before he talked about the boys' home, and it was only to me.

We were laying in bed one night. I thought he was already asleep. But when he started shivering like crazy, I knew I was wrong. He kept shaking like he was freezing to death.

"Pony, are you all right?" I asked.

"Cold. It was so cold." He replied. I wrapped my arm around him, warming his shivering body.

"What was?"

"The boys' home." He replied, and then was silent.

"Go on." I prodded.

"The ceiling was white. I stared at it for hours at a time. There was nothing else to do, and I had nothing to live for. The school was horrible. I did the work, but not well. People stared at me, but when they got used to me, they looked right through me. No one cared. Everyone was cold." He shivered again. "I had no friends. No one wanted to talk to me. Teachers seemed heartless.

At nights, I'd lay awake. If not, I'd be crying myself to sleep. I cried until I thought there wasn't anything left to cry for; but I was always wrong. Crying got old, so I'd just stare at the wall. Sleep stopped soon after I arrived. I slept the first week, but then I couldn't seem to catch it again. I never ate, because something would remind me of home, and I'd get sick. No one knew I didn't eat. No one knew anything about me. No one knew."

"Oh, Pony." I hugged him close. Tears were in my eyes as he told me the horrors of the boys' home. I knew it was nothing I could imagine, but that was worse than what I expected.

"All I wanted was to see my brothers again, and they were telling me I wouldn't for three years." He shivered at the thought. "I couldn't imagine living with that pain."

"It's okay, Pony. You're safe now." I told him reassuringly.

"I know."

"You know, Pony, Darry and I missed you a lot when you were gone. I've never seen Darry cry so much."

When I said this he stiffened. Maybe I just imagined it.

"I know." He said, but he didn't sound like he meant it.

Soon we both fell asleep.

The next morning, when I woke up, Pony was still asleep. I got up, though.

Darry was in the kitchen making breakfast.

"Hey, Darry." I said as I walked in.

"Hey, little buddy. How are you this morning?"

"I could be better." At this he, turned.

"What's the matter? You feel okay?"

"Yeah, but Pony told me about the boys' home last night."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Darry, it was awful."

I began to tell him everything that Pony told me about the boys' home. Darry shed a few tears, and when I finished, his face was drained of color.

"That's horrible." He said. We sat in silence. Neither one of us ate our breakfast. When Pony came in, Darry stood up.

"'Morning." Pony said.

Darry walked up to him and hugged him. I think it took Pony off-guard, but he returned it.

When Darry released him, Pony said, "What was that all about?"

Darry chuckled and then said, "Soda told me about the boys' home."

"Oh." Pony replied.

"It's okay, Pony. You're fine now." He said, giving Pony another hug.

We sat down and ate breakfast. Then, Darry and I went to work, and Pony went to school.