The Baptists
By Pinkmoon
AN: I am so sorry for the long wait but our phone got cut off meaning no internet access and we just recently moved, which also set me back as some of my writings got put into storage. Some of it still remains there. So what I had written I have to rewrite. Hopefully the rewrites will be better than the originals so I won't feel like I've wasted my time and y'all will get the better end of the deal.
Now after that long note, here's the chapter.
Chapter Three
My Brother, My Brother
"A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity."
Proverbs 17:17
White lightening flashed outside the kitchen window drawing Ponyboy's and mine attention. Friday night with nothing to do but watch the lightening. And cook. Can't forget about cooking. I turned back to the chili I was in the mist of making, giving it a couple stirs. Ponyboy sat at the table mixing up cornbread batter. Sodapop was in the living room watching something on TV.
The red sauce began to bubble and I turned down the heat. Everything was ready. Everything but the cornbread. Surely it was done now. Surely Ponyboy wouldn't be daydreaming. Not when I was trying to get dinner done as quickly as possible so I could make it to bed at a semi-decent hour. Surely he…would. I turned to see Ponyboy gazing transfixed at the wall, absently stirring the mushy mix. I'm gonna kill that daydreamer one of the days. But first, lets all play a game of "Doctor Darry resuscitates Patient Ponyboy."
"Ponyboy," I called. Patient unresponsive. More power.
"Ponyboy," I exclaimed. Patient still unresponsive. Now for my favorite part of the game.
"Ponyboy!" I hollered. Patient has responded! Jumped from chair. Turned to face Doctor Darry who rejoiced at his success in reviving Patient Ponyboy.
"Yeah?" he mumbled, trying to look tuff while holding a wooden kitchen spoon in his hand.
"You're dripping cornbread on the floor," I drawled. He looked sheepishly at the spoon and grinned at me.
"So I am."
"You do realize that I cleaned this floor yesterday?" I used my dangerous tone and Pony started to look nervous.
"Yeah," he said slowly.
"And you went ahead and messed it up anyway?" I started advancing toward him and he realized my intentions.
"Aw, Dar, please don't." He slowly backed away from me and started to look for an escape.
"Don't what?" I continued my advance. He was getting close to the wall.
"What ever it is you're planning to do." He looked up at me with those wide eyes. Wide gray-green eyes that I always had a hard time refusing. Honestly, you'd think after fourteen years, I'd be immune by now.
"Alright," I relented, "I'll have pity on you. Just clean up the floor and get that bread into the oven."
"Yes, sir, General Curtis, sir," he muttered.
"Are you mocking me?" I growled and crossed my arms over my chest.
"Never," he grinned at me as he slowly poured the batter into a pan. I gave him last glare and went to join Soda on the couch.
"What are you watching?" I asked as I settled next to him and stretched out.
"News," he answered without looking at me.
"Vietnam?"
"Yup. Their talking about how many more have gotten drafted."
I sighed. Just another reminder that at any moment I could get drafted and in three months, so could Soda. What would we do if Soda was drafted? If I was? If both of us were? What would happen to Ponyboy?
"Okay, I'm done," Pony stated as he strode into the room, breaking my somber mood. He flopped down into my chair, stretched his short legs out and looked every bit the typical teenager.
"Then dinner'll be ready in…oh, twenty minutes." I leaned my head back against the couch and closed my eyes. Suddenly, unbidden, that girl, Sarah, flashed into my mind. There had been something about her. Something…familiar. Almost like I had seen her before. But I knew I had never spoken a word to the raven-haired girl until two days ago. But it kept bugging me.
"Darry?" Soda's voice called.
"Hmm?" Had I seen her at the store or something?
"Can I get a peace sign tattoo and go live in harmony with all the other hippies?"
"Suppose." Or was it while I worked? Had she passed by a house I—wait a minute! What did he say?
"Sodapop Patrick Curtis!" My voice fell on deaf ears as my brothers lost themselves in a laughter fit.
"You two know what? I think we all should go to bed earlier tonight. Extra sleep will do us good." It'd do me good anyways; get them out of my hair for a while.
"Aw, Darry, you know I was only teasing. What were you thinking about anyways?" Soda inquired.
Now Soda can't stand for me to keep anything from him. He virtually tells me everything and feels I should give him the same courtesy. But, as they say, revenge is sweet.
"Nothing."
"Darry," he whined, sitting up on his knees on the couch. Apparently, he completely forgot that he was a seventeen year old greaser, not a five-year-old kid pestering his big brother.
"It wasn't anything. Change the channel Pony."
"What to?" he asked as he stood and walked to the TV.
"Darry tell me!" Soda leaned toward me.
"Oh, I don't know. Why don't you pick?" I said lazily, placing my hands behind my head.
"Dar-ry," he whined each syllable in my ear. A very high-pitch whine.
"How about Andy Griffin?" Ponyboy asked as he changed the dial on the set.
"Darrel, tell me!" 'Resorting to my first name won't work, little buddy' I smugly thought.
"That'll be alright, I suppose," I closed my eyes.
"Dar-rel, tell me!" I spared him a glance. The first thing I saw was his eyes. His face had to be only an inch away.
"Tell you what, little brother?" I asked, innocently. The kid glared at me and all in two seconds, launched himself at me. I pushed him as he grabbed my shirt and we crashed on to the floor. We wrestled for a while, trying to gain the upper hand and not knock over the coffee table.
"Is dinner ready yet?" Ponyboy suddenly asked. I looked up from the headlock I had Sodapop in at the clock and froze. Then my body went into automatic and released Soda. I soared over him and ran to the kitchen, praying that nothing had been burned.
I had been lucky.
"I'll take that as a yes," Ponyboy mumbled as he moseyed over to the silverware drawer and pulled out three spoons.
"Geez, Darry, you'd think the place was on fire, the way you moved," Soda teased as I pulled the cornbread out of the oven.
"You wantin' to get hurt tonight, little buddy?" I threaten.
He only laughed as he got some plates out of the cabinet, "I think I've upset him, Pony. What do you think?"
"I think I'm gonna stay out of it," he responded as he finished setting the table and grabbed a couple of Pepsi out of the refrigerator.
"How very diplomatic of you," I muttered sarcastically.
"Hey! Big words are not allowed in this house!" Soda exclaimed, holding out a plate while I poured some chili on it.
"How unfortunate," Pony retorted. Soda glared while I'm sure Ponyboy grinned wildly at him.
I quickly dished out the rest of the food and we sat down at the table. Conversation waned as we dined (rather stuffed as much food into our mouths as possible). I was pleased with myself. I had yet again cooked a decent meal and avoided any kind of disaster in the process. Quite a success.
"Hey Darry, did you get Sunday off?" Pony asked as he slurped some of his chili.
"Yep."
"What's going on Sunday?" Sodapop asked, chewing on his bread.
"Church, don't you remember?" Pony looked up from his food.
"Oh. Right."
I looked at Soda. Something about his voice changed. The words had a hard, almost harsh sound yet it wasn't quite that distinct. Almost like a hint of whatever it was.
"Do you want to come with us?" Pony had resumed eating and paid little attention to Soda
"No." Now that was unusual. Sodapop normally was the first one who would be up for that kind of thing. I stopped eating and studied him. Body rigid, he sat straight as a wall. His mouth formed at thin, small line. Brown eyes glared at his food. Something was definitely up.
"Why not?" Pony glanced up and stared at him.
"Because I just don't feel like going." He angrily shoved food into his mouth as Pony and I just watched. He glanced up at us and glared venom.
"What?" Soda hissed.
"Nothing," I mumbled and went back to eating. He and I were definitely going to talk.
"Why are you so mad?" Pony asked. 'No, you idiot. Leave him alone' I thought and stopped eating again. The way this was going, it'd be midnight before I got done
"I'm not mad," Soda declared, eating rapidly.
"Then why are you acting like it?" Ponyboy persisted. Soda glanced at him and then his food. You're pushing it, kid, my mind warned.
"Ponyboy, just shut up about it." Soda jammed the spoon in his mouth and hit his upper gum. He cursed softly while Pony watched him.
"What's wrong?" Pony asked. Why was this kid so stubborn? He and Sodapop were going to get into if he didn't stop.
"Nothing's wrong! Just leave me alone." Sodapop didn't even looking up as he rammed food into his mouth. Ponyboy glared at him for a second and then dropped his fork with a loud clatter.
"Ponyboy," I breathed. He could have broken the plate and I would be the one cleaning it up.
"Sorry. I'm no longer hungry. May I be excused?" he asked testily. I nodded and watched as he stood and placed his plate in the sink.
"Don't stay up to late," I said as he walked out. I started eating the rest of my meal, waiting for Soda to start the conversation.
"He's mad at me, ain't he?" he asked all of the sudden.
"Yeah he is," I sighed.
"So now what?" Soda began to play with his food.
"What did you always tell me when Pony and I got into fights?" I countered.
Silence.
"So, what's the deal with church?" I asked. He sighed and looked at me, like he was measuring me up. Then, he looked away.
"It's complicated," he muttered to his plate.
"Is it?"
"Yes."
"You're not going to tell me?"
"No."
"I see." I got up and put my plate in the sink. "You want help washing?"
"Nah, I got it," he said and stood.
"Alright. I'll be in my room then."
"See ya in the morning," he said as he began to attack the stack of dishes.
As I began to move down the hall, my screaming muscles demanded that I go slowly. The house I had worked on today had been particularly steep and it took everything to keep one's footing. Then at my other job at this storage warehouse place, they had me unloading some eighteen-wheelers. Honestly, it's a miracle I haven't tore a ligament or something.
"Why did you have to go and get two real jobs?" I gently chided myself as I passed Pony's and Soda's room. I looked in on him, just to see what he was up to. Ponyboy sat on his bed, writing furiously in a notebook. His face was set in a scowl and his hand clenched his pen. Yeah, he was definitely mad.
"Ponyboy?" I called softly. Grey-green eyes locked with my blue-green ones but nothing else moved. Those eyes that could see through flesh fix on me, studying me, watching me. Why did he always have to do that?
"You alright?" I asked and then swallowed. His eyes continued their stare, perhaps seeing my thoughts, my soul. Then he finally looked away.
"I'm fine," he mumbled.
"That's a lie if I ever heard one," I said, coming into the room. That caused a smile to grace his lips and he looked up at me, this time his eyes weren't so piercing.
"Yeah, it is," he stated matter of factly. I sat on the bed across from him. When was the last time I had done that?
"So, what's bothering you?"
"I don't know. I guess it's Soda." His eyes dropped back down to his notebook.
"What do you mean?" I was kind of sure he was mad about the scene in the kitchen but I wanted to make sure.
"He's just been…annoying, I guess," Pony answered. I waited for him to continue. He seemed to realize this and went on.
"I've been reading Mom's Bible at night and every time he sees me grab it, he'll scoff or say something or ask me why I'm wasting my time," he stopped for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts. I waited, pondering over this new information. What was a matter with that middle brother of mine?
He continued, "Darry, he's never been like that. I thought he would have been, I don't know, more supportive but he's…always doing what he did in the kitchen. Getting moody and angry and everything. It's weird."
He stopped and looked at his hands for a moment. Then he looked back up at me and his eyes had changed again. Piercing, searching.
"What do you think's wrong?"
I sat for a moment, trying to answer that question. I didn't have the slightest idea. The whole thing seemed bizarre and so out of character for Sodapop. The kid had never had a problem with religion before; he always seemed to enjoy it, in fact. So what was the deal now?
"I don't know, Pony. It doesn't seem real for him…" I trail off as I lost my train of thought. Pony lowered his eyes and sighed.
"Exactly." Pony closed his notebook and sat it on the floor with the pen on top of it.
"You know," he started but paused for a second. He swallowed and started again, "I've been reading in the Bible about how when someone got saved, they got baptized afterwards and…well…I…er…"
"You want to be baptized?" I cut him off. He nodded and said, "Yeah. I do. Would you want to?"
"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it." The idea had never entered my brain. I knew what baptism was. I had gone to see a few of my friends get baptized when I was in middle school. But the thought that I would need to never connected in my head.
"I guess we'll have to ask about that on Sunday," I concluded. He nodded and turned to look at the clock on his wall.
"It's late. You probably should go to bed." He said as he turned back and looked at me expectantly.
"Aren't I the one who's supposed to say that?" I laughed. He grinned and said, "Yeah, but you see, I don't have to go to school or work tomorrow. You do."
"Yeah, thanks for the reminder," I mumbled sarcastically. I stood slowly. Man, I could use one of Soda's massages tonight.
"Night, Darry," he mumbled and stretched out on the bed. I nodded back to him and left. I quickly went into my room and land face first on the bed, which was idiotic of me because it sent my muscles to screaming. I thought about changing but decided to just take off my boots and belt and empty my pockets.
As I pulled the comforter over me, I wondered if Pony and Soda would go at it again tonight. I doubt it. It was more like them to just talk it out, cry, promise to never kept secrets or their feeling hidden ever again, and promptly forget anything had ever happened. Or, also keeping in tune to their personalities, they'll won't say word to each other and just go to sleep. I had a feeling it would be the latter, and I, being the responsible, mature adult (Yeah, right), would have to deal with it sooner or later.
'Lord,' I thought, 'please let this house remain sane a few more days longer.'
Well, I hope you liked it and again, I'm sorry about the delay in getting this posted. And as always, please review.
Pinkmoon