This is set a little after the Curtis parents die, Ponyboy just contemplates over the funeral and mostly his mom.
Disclaimer: Hinton owns all.
xXx
Orchids.
The only flower I seemed to tolerate growing in our backyard. Our mother always loved them. She loved it when the rainfall collected in the deep white cups as droplets ran down the soft, white petals. She used to place them in a vase on the kitchen table. I remember the sweet scent as I ate my eggs and bacon. I snap one of its stem.
Of course that was before she died...The days with her and dad seem to melt away in the distance. Snapshots of memories in life are fading away as time grows on... It's scary. I don't want to forget them but I can't help it... Do you slowly forget everyone who dies before you? If so, I'd rather die first. I can feel my throat dry out and my eyes dampen...
Damn. I'm tripping over myself again. Why did we have to have emotions? No way in hell could they be therapeutic. Darry said they were... but what did Darry know? He didn't even cry at the funeral. I bet he doesn't even know how. I don't believe a word of what he says.
So there I was dressed in a black suit, and a bowtie the same colour of Mom's eyes clutching on to that white orchid...
Their deaths came as a shock to us all. You would have never guessed it would happen to you – happen to someone you know. It's a strange feeling. Unreal. Like a bad nightmare you want to wake up from but can't, so all you do is wait until you subconscious strikes you awake. You know what? Even now, I still wait. Wait for that sleep fog to lift from my eyes so I can walk downstairs to cake, milkshakes and them.
There were thousands of flower petals dusting the ground of the cemetery, the relatives and friends standing about awkwardly sobbing with nothing to say, the gang lurking near the fence. I remember it. It's all black and grey. I stood between Darry and Soda and the only thing that wasn't grey or black was the orchid... I plucked a wrinkled petal that hung off the side. Perfection. I was starting to act like my mother; plucking petals to perfection, crying and reminiscing. Sometimes you can exactly pin-point which parent you most relate too. The walls and protective shields have come down – the truth is revealed.
You Ponyboy Michael Curtis were acting like your mother.
When I thought it looked perfect I shuffled forward. My feet rustled against the dry grass. Isn't the grass supposed to wet? Isn't it supposed to be raining? I had thought. It always rained during funerals or was that only in movies? When I reached the coffin everybody was looking at me. I could feel it. My ears didn't go red, I didn't even care.
"Here mom," I said placing the orchid down on the oak coffin, "an orchid, your favourite flower." I shuffled back between my brothers after that. They didn't say anything; just rubbed my back.
I didn't look at them. I could hear Soda bawling and Darry...he wasn't crying, I couldn't hear him. That's when I sneaked a glance at him. He stood their grave faced, hands in his pockets mindlessly staring at the two coffins in front of us.
I felt sick.
I turned my attention to the flower petal on the floor as tears spilt down my cheeks. I hated crying in front of everyone. It was so demoralizing and weird especially when they sneaked us glances when they thought we weren't looking. But I could feel their eyes burning into the back of my neck.
That was the funeral. When they lowered the coffins down into the ground I didn't dare look, till temptation drew my gaze up. I had missed it. The last thing I saw was the white orchid...
I stand up. Walk into the kitchen, it's early and everyone's still asleep. My bare feet pad against the cool floor tiling to the empty vase sitting beside the sink. Picking it up I turn on the faucet and let the water rush in. Setting it down on the table I drop in the orchids.
Morning Mom.
xXx
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