Well, since I don't want the story to drag (and I've written a few chapters in advance) I was hoping to update earlier this week. But alas, yesterday's update didn't happen and so here it is today. Let me know how you're liking the story!
XX
The lights were dim in the room, but Darry and Soda saw him clearly. And they stared. Soda wanted to turn away but forced himself to look, even though it made him green. He swayed a bit on his feet at the sight, but moved forward.
Darry hung back a bit more. He was finally reacting to the mess that he had put his baby brother in. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying, with great difficulty, to control himself.
Tears came quickly to Soda's eyes too, and he brushed at them impatiently.
Steve stayed back towards the door as the brothers inched towards the bed, taking in the site before them. The bed was positioned so that Pony was slightly sitting up, although his body was actually sunk into the thin mattress and pillow. One side of his gown was pulled down, around his shoulder, making room for the number the number of tubes. There were multiple IVs, a cardiac monitor, which beeped its exasperating tone every few seconds, and the ventilator, which forced its way into his mouth and took over his face.
Even more shocking, though, was exactly what the nurses and doctors had prepared them for - the left side of his face was a strange reddish - purplish color - not quite purple just yet but it probably would be soon.
A stark white bandage covered the left side of his head where they had drilled a hole into his skull. There would be a prominent scar there, once the bandage came off. The hair on that side of Pony's head, under the bandage, had been completel shaved off. The rest of his hair, or what was cruelly left of it, was sideswept over to the right side of his head, ungreased and hanging listlessly as if it shouldn't be there either. If Soda hadn't know the circumstances, or the body lying on those sheets, he might have thought his brother looked like a good-for-nothing JD from a street gan, whose head had been shaved in the reformatory.
Soda crept closer, leaning over the right side of the bed where he inspected the bandage on the left side of Pony's head. He looked at it closely without touching it. As Darry came over to Pony's right side (on the left side of the bed) Soda's hand hovered over his brother, like he wanted to stroke his hair. But then he pulled it back afraid.
"Oh god!" he cried out suddenly, "I can't even touch him. I can't even touch him, Darry! He has no hair! How am I going to touch him when he has no hair?"
"He has hair, Soda," Steve said from somewhere behind him. "It's only one side that's missing. "It'll grow back, man."
Steve Randle. The voice of reason.
Sodapop turned around to look at him, his face wet with tears. "They're going to make him fun of him in school...they're going to say things…"
"We won't let them, Soda," Steve said, coming closer and putting a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"His hair was blonde! It just went back to normal…" Soda whined.
"Soda," Darry said quietly from across the room. His voice sounded like it was going to break. "At least he's alive."
Soda quieted down, though he was still sniffling when he turned back to Pony and took his limp hand, stroking his thumb softly over the knuckles. He stared at the breathing tube and listened to the whoosh of the machine as it forced air into his brother's lungs.
"He looks like he's just resting," Soda said softly. Steve came up again behind him and put his left hand on Soda's right shoulder, squeezing hard.
On the other side of the room, Darry hitched his fists in his pockets and his face crumpled.
"I did this! I got us into this mess!" he said, his voice heavy with emotion. And he wanted to bawl.
"Don't say that Darry," Soda looked at him, "Nobody knew he was this bad off. If you hadn't gone to the doctor, maybe we would have never known."
"You knew…" Darry said, through fresh tears.
"I didn't know," Soda responded, his eyes tearing all over again. "I wanted him to cancel that appointment. Don't blame yourself, Darry. You're a good brother. Nobody could have known something like this."
Darry tentatively leaned over and stroked his brother's hair, gentle for the bandage. Suddenly Soda was there on his side of the room and he turned Darry around and pulled him into a bear hug. The two older brothers held each other, trying to pour out their anguish into each other instead of into their little brother, who had a tough battle ahead of him.
When it was all over, Darry suddenly felt extremely exhausted and pulled a chair to Pony's right side. He sat down and took Pony's other limp hand, squeezing gently. "I'm sorry, kiddo," he said, as the tears came down.
Soda went back to the other side of the bed and just stood there frowning at Pony and biting his lip. He put his fingers to his brother's forehead feeling some warmth Soda just stood there, staring at his brother until Steve brought a chair up behind him and made him sit.
A nurse came in not long after, carrying a mess of blankets and handed them off to Soda, Darry, and Steve.
"I know you boys won't be going home for the night, so I wanted to make you more comfortable," she said kindly. And then she brought in a cot for one of the guys to lay on.
"I'm going to be checking on him through the night," The nurse said. "He shouldn't wake up, though. You boys let me know if you need anything." And she left.
Darry sighed heavily. He was exhausted, Soda was exhausted, too - but who knew how much sleep either of them would get.
Soda was the first one to pass out - laying his head down on the mattress next to Pony's motionless arm. Darry followed soon after.
XX
Steve had taken the cot on the floor since neither of the brothers would get up from their seats next to Pony. Despite sleeping on a real mattress, he woke up wth a crick in his neck and cursed himself for laying in the wrong position. And of course, it had only been, what, 3 or 4 hours since he had passed out?
Standing up and rubbing at his neck aimlessly, he looked up at the still, sleeping form on the bed, who was likely worse off than he was. Then he cursed himself inwardly for complaining.
After looking up at the clock hanging on the wall (and grunting when he said that the hands read 5:51am), he cursed himself again for not laying back down. But he couldn't. There were things that needed to get done.
The first thing on his mind was that he wanted a cigarette. The second was that the skin around Pony's eye on the left side of his face had turned an incredibly ugly shade of purple. Definitely a black eye. He was surprised the eye itself hadn't swollen shut yet. Was this normal? The nurse had said it was, right? The kid looked like some Soc had punched the daylights outta him in a rumble.
Steve usually didn't give a hang about the kid. He was an annoying tag-along kid. But he didn't wish what Pony was going through on anyone. And he felt bad for Soda.
The heart monitor beeped its incessant beeping and the ventilator made its whoosh whoosh sound as Steve decided to go stand over at Pony's bedside. He made sure to sidestep Soda who was lightly snoring, head down on the hard mattress near Pony's knee. Sometime during the night he had taken Pony's hand into his own, loosely intertwining their fingers.
Steve didn't know what to say as he leaned over the sleeping boy, so he traced his finger along Pony's creased brow - the one on the side of the face that wasn't angry and purple.
He fumbled for his words before whispering, "Hey kid. Hope you're feelin' ok. You look pretty messed up," he said in a low voice, staring at the ventilator that had overtaken the kid's face. Then he chucked. "Guess this is the one time you can't answer me back, kid."
"Steve," a voice called out from somewhere behind him and Steve practically jumped out of his skin. He whipped his head around. Soda was up and rubbing his tired face. Steve hoped he hadn't heard him talking to his brother.
In the next moment, though, Soda moved his chair closer to his brother and grasped his hand again.
"Hey Soda," Steve said.
Soda was looking over Pony with concern. Steve realized that he was staring at his angry bruising on his face.
"Any change?" Soda asked.
"Nothing," Steve replied.
"He's all purple." Soda said. "Man, looks like someone gave him a nice shiner," he said in a voice that sounded depressed.
"The doctor said that was normal, Soda," Darry spoke up tiredly from the other side of the room."It's from pressure in the brain." He was awake too and rubbing his own neck which ached from being in an uncomfortable position.
"Morning Darry," Steve said. "Hey guys I'm going downstairs to get some coffee, and breakfast. And call Two-Bit," he added.
"Oh right," Soda said, scratching his chin, "He don't know about this yet," he realized.
"Yeah, that's a good idea. Call him. Doubt he'll be able to get here in this weather, anyway," Darry said, glancing out the window. Everything was covered in white. It was the perfect day to be anywhere, but the hospital.
He looked down at Pony and rubbed his thumb over his limp hand.
Darry turned back to his brother and friend. 'Hey Soda, maybe you should go with Steve, get something to eat…" he said. "I bet you haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon."
"You haven't either," Soda pointed out, "Nah, I want to stay here. The doctor's supposed to come by soon, ain't he? I want to find out if they're gonna take the tube out. Maybe they'll wake Pony up soon, he said hopefully.
"Yeah, you guys stay here," Steve said, "I don't want you to miss the doctor. It'll be a little while before I get back. I'll bring the coffee up," Steve said, looking knowingly at Darry and Darry gave him a small grin.
With that, he left the room.
XX
After having his first cancer stick of the day - this time looking out the window at the mess outside iinstead of being in it - Steve went to find a payphone. It was after 6am, so Steve figured it would be ok to call the Matthews, though he had a feeling he would have to push someone to kick that lazy bum out of bed.
He dialed the number.
"Hello?"
"Hi Mrs. Matthews, it's Steve." Is Two-Bit there?"
The gang had always liked Two-Bit's mother. She was caring, a little spacy, but very genuine. She had sent over casseroles every night for a month after the Curtises lost their parents. And she loved her kids. He hoped he wouldn't make her mad.
"Steve?" she questioned, "You know it's 6:30 in the morning right? And there's no chance you have school today - do you think my son would possibly be up at this time?"
Steve laughed. "No, I didn't think he would be awake, Mrs. Mathews. Would you mind waking him, though? It's really important. I wouldn't call at this hour if it wasn't."
"Sure, Steve, hold on," she said and Steve waited. And waited. And waited. He tapped his feet. He drummed his fingers on the side of the payphone. He shuffled back and forth. He wondered if his money would run out. He wondered how unpleasant Two-Bit would be after a night of drinking. And how much he would blame Steve for giving him a hangover. Well, it was for a good reason.
"Yeah?" the gravelly voice finally said.
"Good morning to you, too, sweet pea," Steve said with dry humor.
"Whaddaya want, Steve? I was getting my beauty rest," he said in a haggard voice that was still undoubtedly Two-Bit, "Look, go bother the Curtises or somethin', one of them is always up at the butt crack a' dawn."
Steve rolled his eyes. And then he remembered why he was on the phone.
"Look, sorry to be calling so early, Two-Bit. Nobody, least of all me, wants to get your sorry drunk ass up," he said, "Something happened yesterday. The kid's in the hospital -"
"The kid? You mean Ponyboy?" Two-Bit suddenly sounded very sober. And awake.
"Yea, Ponyboy," Steve said, "The truck ran out of gas and he and Darry got stuck on the side of the road in the snow. Luckily Soda and I found them. But by then Pony was already pretty bad - he was sick. Reall out of it. We brought him to the hospital -"
He paused as Two-Bit began cursing up a storm.
"Wait, there's more," Steve said, "It's pretty serious. He has something called menin-menin-shit I can't remember the name!" Steve shouted and he thought he saw some nurses glaring at him so he quieted down. "It's bad. The doctor said he had fluid in his brain and his back. He had a seizure on the table in the emergency room…"
"A seiz-What? You're being crazy, Steve. Shit!"
Steve put his hand on his head and leaned against the payphone. Two-Bit was annoying the hell out of him with his interruptions but he knew it was a lot to take in so early in the morning.
"They said the fluid was causing pressure to build up in his brain," Steve explained, "They had to - well, they had to do brain surgery…"
"Brain? BRAIN surgery?! Like they cracked the kid's head open? Whowee," Two-Bit whistled under his breath, his voice more serious than Steve had ever remembered hearing it. It was a lot to process. "What are you telling me, Steve?"
"They drilled a hole in it, yea. They had to shave one side of his head... " Steve was getting impatient. He looked out the window next to the phone, watching the wind shake clumps of snow from the tree branches. Two-Bit was saying something...
"- didn't you call me last night?"
"You think you'da been able to get here at 1 in the morning drunk off your ass in this crazy shit weather?" Steve asked incredulously.
"Guess not…"
"Were you even home last night?" he had to ask.
"Shit, are you kidding me? Ain't no one was going out in this fuckin' mess." Two-Bit said.
"Then just how did you expect to get to the hospital last night?" Steve asked and his voice was more angry then he intended, "We could barely rescue them. We had to take the tow truck from the DX," he said.
"Right…" Two-Bit said, his voice distant, "How's Ponyboy now?"
"He slept all night," Steve said, "They had to sedate him. He has a breathing tube. They said they would think about taking it out this morning, see if they could get him to wake up."
"Ok," Two-Bit said, "Listen, I'll be there in an hour tops. Maybe less,"
"Two-Bit, you don't have to come now. Darry and Soda, they understand. I just wanted to let you know. The weather is still pretty crappy. It's fin -"
"I said I'll be there in an hour tops!" Two-Bit's voice boomed and Steve wondered vaguely if his mother had been listening to the whole conversation.
There was a click and he suddenly realized he was listening to the dial tone. Two-Bit had hung up the phone.
XX
Two-Bit put the phone back on its receiver, knowing what he had to do.
But his feet remained firmly rooted to the ground.
Ponyboy? Hospital? Seizure? BRAIN SURGERY?
When had it all gone so downhill? He knew Pony was sick - hell, he had seen the poor kid almost faint yesterday with his own eyes. But they had all assumed it was just a flu, a bad fever, maybe a few headaches. Ponyboy always had headaches.
But Pony's last "headache" was a full-on concussion. A minor one but he had been in the hospital. And now he was there again.
Two-Bit stood there in a daze, chewing on his fingernail.
How exactly was he going to get to the hospital after such a crazy storm?
He definitely couldn't drive. The roads weren't anywhere near plowed yet and his own car was under piles and piles of snow.
"Keith?" his mother called, bringing him out of his trance. He realized she had been standing there the whole time. How much had she heard?
"What was that all about?" she asked, but it wasn't in a mean way.
Mrs. Mathews had a fond place in her heart for the Curtis brothers and felt especially bad for them since their parents had passed. Steve had called at 6:30 in the morning and now she felt her son's panic.
She had heard Ponyboy's name mentioned, and witnessed her son's reaction. She had heard the words "brain surgery" but couldn't possibly understand what it all meant.
"Ponyboy's in the hospital," Two-Bit said anxiously. "He was sick in the last two days and it's become much worse," he told his mother. "He's in the hospital."
"You're not considering going out in this weather, are you Keith? The situation sounds serious but I'm sure his brothers are taking good care of -"
"I'm going," Two-Bit said abruptly, meaning argument over, "They need my help," he said.
None of the boys had actually asked for his help but he wanted to be there for them. And he wanted to know firsthand how Ponyboy was doing.
"How would you even get there, Keith? You couldn't possibly take the car - "
"I'll walk, mom," he said, through gritted teeth. "I'll walk if I have to."
As she stood there gaping at him, he went up to her, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and ran to his room to grab the warmest clothes he could find before heading out the door.
XX
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