Compilation of Secrets
Lucy Marie Curtis
It's been two weeks since the funeral of my brother. I was never that close to him. To be honest, I was jealous of him. He could always stand out in any crowd. He gave people that crazy grin and they couldn't help falling in love with him. I wonder how a boy who sparkled like Sodapop did could be sibling to such a lack-luster girl like me. I wish everybody loved me like they loved him.
Johnny and I sit in the grass in the park, leaning up against one of the large oaks that provides a canopy from the hot sun.
"Listen, Luce, there's something I gotta tell you," he says to me.
I turn my head to gaze over in his direction. His eyes meet mine for a second before he leans in and kisses my lips lightly. That's when I realize that something is terribly wrong. He doesn't want to tell me whatever he is about to say.
"What, John?" I ask, after he pulls away.
Spill it already, I can't help but think.
"I'm being drafted."
Way to let me down easy, Johnny.
"What? When?" I stutter.
"A few weeks," he says.
My heart falls into my stomach and I can feel my throat tightening.
"Weeks?" I squeak.
"Yeah," he picks at his fingernail, "I was gonna tell you before, but I just couldn't. Not with what happened to Sodapop and all."
He's said the wrong thing, he and I both realize it. That's when it first hit me. Johnny's going over to Vietnam. Soda died in Vietnam.
"You can't go," I choke out, finally. Tears are already clouding my vision and I look away from him quickly.
He doesn't say any comforting words or put his arm around me. There is nothing comforting to say.
The next time you see him, he could be being carried around in a wooden box, I tell myself.
More tears pour down at this thought and I find myself so distraught that I can't breath. I'm choking for air.
"Please don't-," I beg of him, but I can't get the words out.
He is genuinely concerned now; I can see it as I look up at him. Shifting so that he is facing me, he lifts my head up from the knees of my jeans and attempts to calm me down.
"Easy, Luce. Relax, okay? Everything's gonna be okay," he runs his hand through my hair in a soothing matter.
People are looking at us from the sidewalk with awkward glances. I guess it looks kind of strange to see a sobbing girl in the center of the park.
"Don't go," I say, after I've calmed down a bit.
"I have to," he answers, reluctantly.
He's right. I know he is. I hate him for it.
"Dinner is in ten minutes, Lucy!" Darry yells to me as I slam the door.
"Okay," I say. I find him in the kitchen, cooking.
"You okay, kiddo?"
He does a double-take when he sees the streaks of mascara that must be running down my face. I should have washed up. I don't want an interrogation, but it's unavoidable now.
"I'm fine," I say.
His eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes drift across my face as if hoping to find the real answer hidden there.
"Johnny's being drafted," I spit out finally and I leave the room so he can't look at me anymore.
"Lucy!" he calls, "Why don't we talk about it."
That's Darrel for you; always trying to be the mother.
"There's nothing to talk about," I shrug and I shut the bathroom door so I can't hear him as I run cool water over my face.
The door swings open a few seconds later and I jump back.
"Jeez, Darrel, I could have been getting in the shower or something. Don't you ever knock?" I question.
"What's the matter with you?" He asks.
"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," I dry my face on a clean towel.
"What are you hiding from? Why can't you just say what you feel?" He says, obviously exasperated.
I am frustrated at this question, but only because I know what he's saying it true. I am defensive anyway.
"I'm not hiding from anything," I insist.
"What's going on?" Pony peeks in on us from the hallway. He must have been studying in his room or something like that.
Darry plows right through his words and adds, "Yes you are, that's all you ever do!"
I scoff and slip past him, hoping to dismiss the subject.
"Things get tough and you take off, right out the door!"
"Whatever, Darry," I say and I begin to set the table.
"Don't you think for a minute that I don't know what you're doing. I found those beer bottles under your bed, Lucy." He is quieter now, yet somehow he scares me worse.
"What's the matter, Darrel?" I say, standing daringly close to him to lock eyes with his, "Afraid I'm taking after good old Dad."
I know he's angry by the way he looks at me. But I smile; I know I've trapped him.
"I'm not the only one denying things, Darrel," I brush past him and head into the kitchen to get the food.
"Guys, just stop, okay?" Pony says and there is silence.
We end the argument for Ponyboy's sake, but we don't speak to each other for the rest of the night.
"I'm sorry about earlier, Pon," I hear Darry state as I 'overhear' their conversation from my room.
Oh yeah, I think, make me look like the bad guy.
I fall asleep in my own bed that night because I'm so furious. Sometimes I wonder how long it will be before the entire world is against me.
The sound of the doorbell pulls me from sleep. It still dark outside, but that's not what throws me. No one ever rings our doorbell. Not even solicitors; no one ever bothers to sell anything in this neighborhood.
I hear Darry get up and I am thankful. I'm dead to the world less then a minute later.
"Lucy, wake up," Pony whispers in my ear.
"What time is it, Pon?" I roll over to look at him.
"I dunno. Early," he says, "It's still dark out."
"What are you getting me up for then?"
"Shelia's here," he whispers.
"Who?"
"Shelia; Dallas's old girlfriend," he says.
"What?" I sit up slowly.
Pony sits on the edge of the bed so that he's facing me.
"She has a kid with her. She says it's Dally's."
"Does she know that Dally's dead?" I question.
"Yeah," he says, "But she says she's in trouble, she doesn't know where else to go. She wants to leave the girl with us."
"Jeez," I throw the covers off of me and go to peek out of the crack in the door, "Are you serious?"
"Yeah," he says and he leans over me so he can see also, "And I think Darry is gonna say 'yes'."
"Come on," I say, moving to open the door, "Lets go see what's going on."
"No," Pony whispers, "Darry won't let ya'. He sent me back to my room."
"What are you, five?" I say.
I look at him and I can see that I've been too cruel. I don't apologize; no matter how guilty I am beginning to feel.
"He'll be angry," He finally reasons.
"Not like he could get any angrier with me," I admit, but I climb back into bed.
Pony lies down beside me and we are silent for a while.
"Dallas has got a kid," I whisper, just to confirm it with myself, "How old is she, Pon?
"I dunno," he says, "Looks about two, I guess."
I lean my head against his and take a deep breath. I'm trying not to fall asleep, just so I can see what will happen, but I find my eyelids growing heavy. I yawn.
"Was Darry right? Ya' know, about the beer bottles," Pony asks.
"Yeah," I breathe.
"You shouldn't drink," he says.
It takes me a minute to answer only because what he's saying takes a while to register in my foggy mind.
"You shouldn't smoke," I tell him.
"That's not the same," he responds.
"Yes it is. Alcohol calms my nerves, just like cigarettes calm yours," I say.
"I still wish you wouldn't," he finally states.
"I know," I say.
I'm sorry.
A/N: Thanks to all of my reviewers! Next chapter should be posted on Wednesday if I get back from rehearsal early enough. Review and tell me what you think!