Chapter Seven

Sodapop turned our old truck onto the streets of my new neighborhood. I watched as the headlights illuminated the area showing a quick glimpse of the manicured lawns and sidewalks without cracks. I was squished between Soda and Ponyboy, but I didn't care. Sodapop had been right. No matter where I was, as long as I was with my brothers it felt like home. I leaned my head onto Ponyboy's shoulder to let him know I was going to miss him. I didn't tell him, but I wished he was court ordered to live at the Ottavi's house too.

My brother put the truck in park across the street from the Ottavi house. "Sissy, this is your stop."

I looked over to see the living room lights a glow. I moaned, "I don't want to go in. I just wanna go home with you two."

"Wouldn't do you no good. You know you can't go home till Darry's back anyway." Pony softly said referring to Darry and Kathryn spending a few nights away from us kids for their honeymoon at a hotel downtown.

Sodapop looked over at me. "Don't worry, ya aint missing nothing at home that won't be there tomorrow."

"If, I get a chance to come home tomorrow. Mrs. Ottavi had big plans for the two of us today that I ruined. I may have to go shopping all evening with her."

"Nothing wrong with getting spoiled." Sodapop smiled.

"Speaking of spoiled," Ponyboy said as he noticed a young man getting out of a sports car across the street. "Is that Owen over there?"

I picked my head up and looked over. In the glow from the street light we watched as the figure leaned against the car.

"Yeah, that's him. I wonder what gives?" Sodapop said.

Pony nudged me with his elbow. "See, as always, you were wrong. He aint mad at you."

"He probably misses you." Soda teased.

"I guess so. I better go talk to him." I pushed on Sodapop's shoulder to signal him to let me out of the truck.

I thought about how I had been sulking all day about making a fool out of myself by hitting that Soc. I had tried to call Owen a few times when I was near a phone. Each time his dad told me he wasn't home, but he would let him know that I had called even thought I wouldn't know where I was going to be for Owen to call me back.

Owen walked towards us.

Sodapop climbed out of the truck, and held the door open. "Long time, no see!" He joked.

"You didn't think I was going to call it a night before talking to Scout tonight. Did you?"

"She did! She's been a pain, whining and crying all day about not being able to talk to you." Sodapop laughed.

"Ha…, Ha…! You sure are the funny one in the family." I said sarcastically and pushed past him. I walked over to my boyfriend and gave him a quick hug before I looked up at him. "I tried to call you a few times, but your dad said you weren't at home."

Ponyboy yelled from inside the truck cab. "She wanted to call you a few hundred times more than she actually did!"

"Pony, hush!" I yelled to attempt to try to shush him.

Ponyboy recited his imaginary list for places I attempted to use the phone. "She wanted a dime at the Dingo, at the DX, when we went to visit Casey at work, when we visited Two-Bit at work."

Sodapop climbed into the truck and added to Pony's teasing. "At Two-Bit's house after work, at Steve's house. Didn't she even look up Alexander Graham Bell's address to see if we could use his phone?"

I glared at my brothers to hush them while they laughed at me.

Owen only gave a halfhearted laugh towards my brother's taunting me. "I was out most of the day anyhow. I went for a drive to do some thinking then after dinner I went over to Kirby's house to hang out with the guys."

Owen looked at my brothers who seemed to be waiting to know that I would be looked after if they left. "I'll keep an eye on her, and make sure she gets into the house safe."

Sodapop hung his head out the window. "Want us to keep watch while the two of you talk?"

Owen looked up and down the quiet street. "We'll be okay here, thanks though."

"Thanks for looking out for me." I said then bid good night to my brothers before walking back to the side of Owen's car. As the truck rumbled away down the street I noticed one of the Ottavi's peek out of the living room window. I didn't know what time it was, but I also didn't care if I was late for curfew.

Owen took my hand in his. "How are you doing?"

I looked at my boyfriend and could tell that there was something on his mind other than me. "I'm a lot better now that you're here. I missed you today."

"I missed you too." Owen said somberly.

"How are you doing?"

"I don't know."

His response made me nervous. Owen knew so little of my fears and insecurities. I hadn't told him about my nightmares, or sleep walking, or losing my mind when Dally was shot. Today was the first day he had a glimpse of that side of me, and I feared he couldn't handle what he had seen. Cautiously, I asked, "Why don't you know?"

Owen sighed and I knew he was preparing to be very honest with me. I felt the nerves in my body stand at attention while I held my breath and waited for the next words to come out of his mouth.

"To be honest, I didn't know you had a temper like that. I mean, I've seen you in some pretty serious situations and you've always been pretty level headed."

"Owen, I am sorry. I just… there's no good reason for my behavior, but there are sometimes when I get so stressed that I just … lose it."

"I know that's what it was, and no doubt you had a right to be angry." Owen quietly said. "But, Olivia… she's never seen you act that way."

I was mortified! "I am so sorry. I didn't think about her or anyone. My thoughts were all messed…"

Owen interrupted me. "I don't blame you for what you did. You have so many things to deal with right now. So much change, and stress. I understand what you are going through, and I would never blame you for how you acted, and that's what scares me."

I looked up at Owen and furrowed my brow in question and disappointment in myself.

"You know what Oliva asked me when we got into the car?" He asked rhetorically, "She wanted to know if all little girls grow up to hit people."

"What did you tell her?" I asked sheepishly.

"I told her no! I had to tell her that you did what you did because some bad things have happened to you in the past, and that you didn't really mean to hurt anyone." Owen said as his eyes filled with tears. He blinked causing a tear to streak down his cheek. "Then she mentioned that you were just like mommy."

I was mortified to hear about the comparison. I felt a brief moment of panic as I thought about how much Owen couldn't stand his mother. I held my breath again and braced myself to hear that after what I did he couldn't be with me anymore.

"That's when it hit me..." Both of Owen's eyes filled with tears that ran freely down his face as he whimpered. "I'm just like my father!"

I was stunned. I took a chance and wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my cheek against his chest to comfort him.

Owen squeezed me back, and angrily cried out, "I watched what you did, and I knew that you were hurting inside. I told myself and Olivia that you didn't mean it, and that's what my dad always says. 'She didn't mean it'. I said the same thing! I'm just like him! I love you so much that I couldn't blame you for lashing out at that boy." Owen rested his forehead on the top of my head and one of his tear drops fell off of his cheek and onto mine. "What if, all this time he has been right about my mother? What if you were right? What if she is still blaming me for everything because I won't forgive her? What if that is what makes her lash out all the time?"

"But it wasn't your fault, and it isn't your fault that she beats the two of you!" I said then tried to think of a way to help his situation. "Have you two ever talked about everything?"

"No. I couldn't imagine where to start, or when she would be sober enough to pay attention." Owen sniffled and stepped away from me to wipe his eyes. "Besides, shouldn't she be the one to come and talk to me?"

"Yes, she should." I looked up at the man I loved with all of my heart. "I should too because I don't want it to have to be this way between you and me. I need to be honest with you about the parts of me I haven't been brave enough to share with you. You need to know that after my parents died and everything else between then and now, I don't sleep well. I have nightmares and sleep walk and I'm constantly haunted by images in my head that aren't really there. I hear noises and jump. I see things that aren't really there and I panic. Then the night that I watched Dallas get shot, I actually went crazy. I thought the cops were Duke Dobbins and they had killed Ponyboy. I lost my mind and attacked one of them the way I attacked that boy today. They had to handcuff me, stuffed me in the back of a patrol car and Darry had to ask Mr. Ottavi get me out of that jam. I ended up in the hospital for a few days. In fact, I had just gotten out the night before you asked me to go on a date. I'm not as well as I pretend to be. I should have told you all of this a long time ago, but I was too scared of what you would think of me, and by the time I felt better I didn't tell you because I didn't know it would all boil over again."

Owen cradled my head in his hands and rubbed the side of my cheek with his thumb. "I wouldn't have loved you any less if you did."

"Then today I just got so mad at the memory of those boys getting away with what they did. I thought of James and how he is trying to get away with what he did, and my temper flared and my mind went blank. The next thing I knew Ponyboy was holding me on the ground. I didn't even know what I had done until Soda told me later."

Owen sighed heavily. "Maybe my mother is the same way?"

"Maybe, but the difference is that I want to get better." I wiped my eyes and stood up a little taller. "I don't want to be so scared and angry all the time. It's not good for you or me or anyone I love. That's what makes me different. I want to be better so you don't have to spend your life making excuses for me."

I wide smile of relief spread across Owen's face. "You're one tough cookie. I know you will get better, and I'll help you whenever you need me to." He looked over at the Ottavi's house, and noticed the front door was wide open with the figure of a man waiting in the glow of the porch light. Owen looked back at me. "I wish it was three years from now, and we were married, and you could come home with me to our own home! We could go to sleep together in our bed, and I could hold you in my arms and know you were safe."

The sentiment sent a warm rush of emotions through my body. I tip toed to kiss the young man, and he leaned in to make it easier for me to show him with a kiss how much I wished for the same thing he had wished for. I pressed my hands against his strong chest as he wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. With my eyes closed my palms could feel his heart pounding. My lips could feel the softness of his lips. My cheek could feel the warmth of his breath on my face. Off in the distance, the soft sound of the church bells rang out and we knew our time together had expired. Owen let me go, and grabbed my hand. He walked me to the path that led to my new home.

"I hate saying goodbye to you." Owen told me as he held tightly to my hand.

"I'll walk myself to the door. You head back to the car, so I know you get there safe."

Owen pouted a little. "Alright, but you have sweet dreams tonight. Okay? No nightmares."

"I will certainly try." I smiled back at him. I let go of his hand and showed him that I was wearing his promise ring. "I love you!"

"I love you too." He answered back, and then strolled back to his car.

I waited for his car to pull away before I finished walking up the front path to be in the care of my new guardian.

"Rough day?" Mr. Ottavi caringly asked.

"Rough year." I replied. "I'm pretty tired. I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to head up to bed."

"Sure, whatever you need."

I walked towards the front staircase and noticed Mrs. Ottavi, dressed in her night gown and robe, waiting for me in the living room. "Good night, Mrs. Ottavi."

"Scout?" Mrs. Ottavi called out as I headed up the steps.

"Not now, Dorothy. Just let her be." Mr. Ottavi quietly told his wife.

"Art, I want to be sure she is okay." Mrs. Ottavi stepped into the foyer, and came to the bottom of the steps. "Scout?"

I held tightly to the banister, turned around and looked down at the woman to listen to what she needed.

"Are you alright, my dear?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I guess so."

"I wish I knew the right thing to say to you to make everything better. I am wondering, if your mother was here, what advice do you think she would give you to help you get through all of this?"

I stood quiet for a moment and thought about my mother. I missed her terribly, but worst of all, I was forgetting things about her that I never thought I would. "Honestly, I think that might be a better question for Darry or Sodapop. They were both fifteen when she was alive. I don't think I could know what she would have said to me."

Mrs. Ottavi was rendered speechless by my blunt answer, so I turned around and continued on to my room.

Once in bed, I thought more about Dorothy's question. I couldn't imagine what my mother would say to me because when she was alive I had never been in one dire situation, let alone the myriad of trouble I had been through in the past year. I tried again to imagine what she would say if she was able to return to me. I could only imagine she would have reacted just as Darry had, but I wouldn't have challenged her like I challenged Darry's decisions. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine my mother coming to the side of my bed. When I opened my eyes I found myself in an unfamiliar setting. I noticed a large wooden front door. The soft, warm mattress had been replaced with cold, hardwood floor. It took a few seconds for the familiarity of the new setting to enter my mind.

"Scout, darling, are you okay?" A man's voice asked me, and I could feel his hand on my shoulder.

I turned my head to see the Art and Dorothy in their night clothes looking down at me. Their eyes were wide with shock and concern. I sat up and slid backwards and rested against the nearby wall. I looked around the room and I realized I was in the foyer of my new home, but couldn't remember how I had arrived there.

"Are you going to be okay?" Dorothy asked with concern in her voice. "We heard a ruckus. We think you may have fallen down the stairs! Do you remember anything?"

I blinked my eyes in confusion. Inside my mind I did a check of myself. My bones weren't broken, I believed myself to be fully conscious. I checked my knees and then my elbows to find a few red marks indicating that I may have taken the suggested tumble.

"Scout!" Arthur almost yelled to get my attention.

At that time I realized I hadn't responded to either of my pseudo parents since waking up. "Yeah, I think I'm okay. I'm sorry, sometimes at home I sleep walk when I am really worried about things."

I watched as Dorothy raised her eyebrows with concern as she looked at me and then looked at the majestic staircase I had possibly fallen down. The woman had seemed to have no experience with sleepwalking the way I sometimes do.

"Were you having a nightmare? When I came down here to check on you I grabbed you and you let out a terrible cry." Arthur asked.

I rubbed my forehead and recalled what I could remember. "It was dark and I was being chased by the GTO. I had a heavy stack of books in my hand, so I couldn't run fast enough to get away. Then a bunch of boys jumped off the hood of the car to jump me, but one of them was Owen. Next thing I know Pony comes by and grabs the stack of books from me so I can run into the laundry mat next door. James is there, he's holding the door open for me. When I get inside Darry is yelling at me to 'persevere' and he keeps teaching me how to throw a punch. Next thing I know, Pony is there. Neither of them see James coming at me with a knife, but Owen shows up. I thought he was going to kiss me in front of James, but he grabs me and starts to strangle me instead, then everything gets hazy, and next thing I know, I'm right here, in real life, on the foyer floor."

"Whoa," Mrs. Ottavi says, "that's a lot to remember from a crazy nightmare."

"I looked up at her. I know, I remember a lot of my crazy dreams, but not always my nightmares. I don't ever remember having nightmares until my parents died. Same for Pony."

The two parents looked at each other to figure out what to do. Mr. Ottavi sat next to my side and asked, "What does Darry do at home when you sleepwalk?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Nothing much. Usually just snaps at me and tells me to calm down and stop working myself up so much before bed. I don't really sleepwalk that often. I don't think I ever did at Ashford, or when I shared a room with Casey."

"So, you are suggesting that your subconscious self knows when you are alone and when you are not?" Dorothy asked.

"That's the best I can figure."

The lady gave another questioning glance to her husband.

"Alright, why don't we'all head upstairs and back to bed? We have busy days tomorrow." Arthur suggested.

The man helped Mrs. Ottavi up from the foyer floor. I jumped up on my own and noticed a pain in my knee that hadn't been there before bed. I looked down and noticed a red mark developing, but I kept the discovery to myself.

The three of us headed to the second floor. I noticed Arthur lead us into my room. "Scout, grab your pillows and blankets. I'll pull the mattress into our room. You'll be sleeping there for the rest of the night."

My cheeks grew flush with embarrassment. "I think I'll be alright. I've never slept walk twice in one week, let alone twice in one night."

"Have you had two nightmares in one night?" Mrs. Ottavi asked.

"Not very often."

"Not very often is close enough to a 'yes'. Grab your bedding and get on down the hall into our room." Mrs. Ottavi directed me.

I grabbed my pillow and blankets. Mr. Ottavi pulled the twin sized mattress off of the frame and walked out of the room with it. I followed the couple into their room which I had yet to go into. It was as prestigious as I expected an attorney's bedroom to be with a walnut, king size four post bed, end tables and dressers to match and two wing back chairs on the other side of the room beneath a floor lamp just right for reading.

Mr. Ottavi dropped the mattress to the floor near the chairs. I set about making up the bed again, and Mr. Ottavi pushed one of the chairs across the room to the door. I watched as the man shut the door, locked it and then put the chair in front of the door. The man looked back at me. "That outta hold you!"

I smiled back. "I hope so."