18. Road Trip

I hadn't thought it was possible to miss my little brother more than I already did. I'd thought that I'd sort of maxed it out. At first, when they'd taken him, it had been awful, and I hadn't known how I would get through the days. Every single night I'd started bawling in our room, holding onto a pillow and burying my face in it, trying not to wake Darry. All this was hard enough on him...he needed his sleep, not to be waking up every night at 2 in the morning to sit with me like I was a baby or something. Besides, he couldn't do anything.

I needed my little brother back. I didn't know how to function without him…he'd always been there, since I was two years old and Mom and Dad had brought him home from the hospital. We had a picture of me asleep on the floor next to his crib, Darry beside me, leaning against the wall as he slept too, both of us guarding our new little brother, and another of the three of us on the sofa taken a couple of years later, all holding one another as we grinned and posed. Nothing much had changed even if we were all a little taller.

Darry and I still did our best to look out for him, and boy did he need looking after, surely more than I ever had. He was different. I know it bugged Darry but I didn't mind because he was my little brother and I loved him more than just about anyone. I was proud of him for being so smart, and I thought it was tuff that he dug books and stuff. I didn't want my little brother to be mean and cold…I'd never wanted him to go through the awful stuff kids in our neighborhood had to go through. So I'd known from the time he was real little that he needed me and Darry to look out for him. But as much as he needed us, we needed him. We still all needed each other, no matter how old we got! But they'd taken him away and it hurt so much I couldn't hardly breathe.

Over the months after they'd taken him, the pain had dulled a little, spiking when he'd called and I'd been reminded that he wasn't happy, wherever he was, and that he missed us as much as I missed him. I mean, I'd known he would. I'd known that he wouldn't actually be happy away from us in a boy's home or some stranger's house. But to hear his tearful, scared voice on the phone actually telling me that he wasn't happy...that he was miserable and wanted to come home, had hurt even more.

Then, when I'd thought he was dead…when that officer had told us they'd found that poor girl's body…then my little brother's bloody jacket…I'd felt like I was having a heart attack, my chest squeezing so hard I couldn't breathe. I didn't think I could survive pain like that. Mom and Dad had been hard…I'd thought that was the worst pain I could feel, but this had been worse. Ponyboy was my little brother and my best friend and probably the most important person in the world to me along with Darry. How was I supposed to survive without him?

Then Dally had explained and for a minute, all I had seen was red. Dally had hidden him from us! He'd taken my brother away from me! Of course, that wasn't true…it hadn't been like that. Dally had saved Ponyboy's life, and I appreciated it, but glory it hurt to live without him, not even knowing where he was or if he was okay. I mean...he was probably okay. I trusted Dally despite everything. He wouldn't send Ponyboy somewhere where he could be hurt. Even if he hadn't liked Ponyboy, he knew that Darry and I would kill him if he let someone hurt our little brother. But Pony was a runaway now, and sometimes runaways disappeared. I thought of Lianne and shuddered. I couldn't get those pictures out of my head. What if that happened to Ponyboy somewhere...he was alone and he didn't have me and Darry and the gang to watch his back and every night I jerked awake from dreams where it was my baby brother, not that poor girl, in the makeshift grave.

Pony hadn't called, not since talking to Darry, and I was dying to talk to him. I was still kind of mad at Darry for not waking me, even though I knew that I'd talked to Pony three times since he'd been taken away and that had been Darry's first chance to talk to him at all. I knew Darry missed him something awful, and that he still blamed himself for everything. I kind of blamed him too, even though I didn't want to. It wasn't fair of me to blame this all on him. It had been the socs who'd gone after Pony and Johnny, and the State who'd taken him away. But I couldn't help remembering that he'd hit him. He'd let him run off after he'd lost his temper and if he could have just calmed down and talked to Pony instead of yelling and going off on him and then me, then we might not be in this situation.

I shoved that thought away. Blaming Darry wouldn't make any of this better.

The Monday after Pony called the house and talked to Darry, who hadn't woken me up, Dally agreed to drive me to the bar where they'd found the girl's body. Well, he'd agreed after I'd called and pestered him about it for a while. I was about to go to Buck's to pester him some more when he'd given in. "Don't know what you want to go there for." He'd growled on the phone after plenty of pestering, and I'd grinned, knowing I'd worn him down.

"He might have hung out around there. Maybe someone will remember him." To be honest, I wanted to know why my little brother had been hiding out at a bar. He didn't really drink much, or even show an interest in it. I mean, he was too young to drink and Darry didn't let him much, but even when he was allowed, he'd sip at a beer and leave it at that. I didn't care for beer much and never really drank, except for his birthday, and Darry only drank a beer every once in a while in the evenings or before a rumble, so I guess it kind of ran in our family. Darry would skin him if he ever caught him drunk, but it hadn't been something we'd really have to worry about.

Maybe that had changed, I thought, stomach sinking. Maybe he drank because of how that man had treated him. Or maybe he was just trying to find a place to hide. Either way, I needed to know. I hadn't seen him or talked to him in so long…I was dying to talk to him…to feel closer to him again, and going to the last place he'd been seen might do that.

I was on my way out the door when I nearly ran into Steve heading up the driveway, his arms crossed as he caught me and I tried not to look guilty. There was nothing to be guilty about. Sure, Darry wouldn't be happy, but he wouldn't find out. Dal wouldn't tell. But I knew Steve would worry, and he might try to talk me out of it. I wasn't working that day, and since Steve was out of school for the summer, I'd figured he'd be at the station. Apparently not. He blocked my way, crossing his arms and leaning in the doorway while I fought not to shove him out of the way.

"Where you headed, Sodapop?" he asked, looking worried, apparently suspicious.

"Dally's gonna drive me to that bar." I told him, figuring he wouldn't let it go until I gave in and told him the truth.

"That bar?" he repeated, looking dubious. I couldn't really blame him…I didn't usually go to bars, not without him anyway, and not in the morning.

"The one where they found that girl…Pony's foster sister," I explained, anticipating his reaction. Steve went kind of pale then, shaking his head and looking at me like he felt sorry for me. He'd been looking at me like that a lot lately, and I felt my hackles rise. I didn't want him to feel sorry for me. I wanted him to help me, or at least get out of my way.

"Sodapop, are you sure…"

"I have to," I told him sharply, fighting the heat in my eyes. I needed to do this, but I didn't have to start bawling about it. "So yeah, I'm sure." He nodded, jaw kind of tight, then gestured for me to go ahead. I stepped past him, then turned and followed me. I glanced back, frowning and stopping in my tracks. "What are you doing?

"I'm coming with you, man," he told me, dropping a hand on my shoulder. I shook my head, feeling tired.

"You don't have to…"

"I'm coming with you," he told me again, his voice serious, so I shrugged. If he wanted to come, I wasn't gonna try and stop him. It might be good to have him along. So together we met Dally in town and climbed into the car he had borrowed from Buck, me in the passenger seat and Steve in the back.

"You didn't tell me you were bringing Steve," Dally muttered, glancing back at our buddy who rolled his eyes behind me.

I grinned back at him as best I could. "I didn't know."

Dally hummed but didn't complain.

"I don't really know where this place is exactly, but they said it was by the high school, so I figured we could find it."

We had to find it. I'd walk around that city all day if I had to.

We drove for what felt like forever until we finally reached the city where they'd taken my little brother. It didn't look too different from our town…maybe bigger, and Dally turned down a side street, finally slowing down in front of one of the houses and parking off to the side of the street. I stared at him, confused, not seeing a bar around.

"That's where he was living," Dally told me quietly, pointing to the white house with a covered porch and crumbling front steps. The lawn needed to be mowed, and all the blinds were drawn, making me wonder if anyone was home. I thought about knocking on the door, seeing if the guy was home, but if Darry ever found out I'd done something stupid like that, he'd kill me. I stared, feeling sick. This was where that man had beat my brother…where he'd put cigarettes out on his arms.

We were just about to drive off when the front door opened and a girl stepped out. She was tall, with ringlets of blond hair and a black eye she hadn't bothered trying to cover with makeup. There was a book in her hand and she leaned on the railing with it, glancing up but not seeing us. She kind of reminded me of Sandy, and that thought hurt. After a second, she brought a hand up to her jaw, flinching a little, and I wondered if that man wasn't home after all…if he'd hurt her. There was another girl that lived in that house…this must be her. I remembered what those guys had said the man was doing to her, and felt my ears get hot as I glared at my feet. We needed to help her. I mean, mostly I just wanted Pony back, but there was no way that guy should be allowed to do that to a girl.

I glanced back up, about to ask Dally why we were still there, and her eyes locked on mine. For a second, they went wide, her mouth opening a little as she seemed to draw back, a hand covering her mouth. Then her eyes narrowed, her face almost angry…or maybe afraid as she grabbed her book, stalking back into the house and slamming the door behind her. Startled, I turned to Dally who had been watching her as closely as I had been.

"What gives?" Steve asked from the back seat, leaning in until his head was between us.

"Let's just find the bar." I mumbled with a shrug, crossing my arms and looking away from the house where my brother had been tortured. Glory I missed him. I missed him so much. I felt a hand on my shoulder and glanced back at Steve with a half smile, trying to ignore the memory of the girl who'd been tortured right along with my brother. Did she know who we were somehow? Did she know her house was being watched? There was no way to find that out without asking her, and I doubted she'd want to talk to a couple of strange greasers from out of town.

The bar wasn't too hard to find. We didn't even have to ask directions. We found it on the way to the high school, turning into the parking lot and parking in the back. It was about three in the afternoon, so no one was really there. We all sat in the car together, staring at the old building for a while before I finally climbed out, leaving the door open so Steve could follow, and they both jumped up after me, hurrying to follow. They walked alongside me, hurrying to catch up, and we all stepped into the bar together, the door creaking shut behind us.

It was kind of a rough looking place, with pool tables in the back and a guy washing glasses behind the bar. The bartender was a big guy, big like Darry with thick arms and broad shoulders like a football player, probably around thirty. He glanced up when we entered, and we all jumped when the glass slipped from his hand, shattering on the floor. He was staring at me, though, eyes wide, leaning in like he was trying to get a better look at me.

"You uh…you okay, man?" Steve asked as we all approached the bar hesitantly.

"Yeah…uh…" He was still staring at me, and it hit me then.

"You know my brother." I told him, my voice eager as I leaned against the bar, and he nodded.

"Yeah…" He nodded, laughing incredulously. "He must have been. Shoot, he looked just like you." I had to smile then. Pony looked like me. He must have changed some then…that thought made my heart clench. I missed him so much…I'd missed watching him grow up for an entire year! "Hair was a little different…more red in it, but yeah." He grabbed a broom from the doorway and started sweeping up the glass, and I didn't miss the fact that he was talking about my little brother in the past tense. "I guess that's why you came by." He softened a little, bending to sweep the glass into a dustpan and emptied it into the trash. Steve took a seat beside me while Dally remained standing.

I nodded. "Yeah, it is. He uh…used to hang out here sometimes. Right?"

"Sure did," he nodded, struggling to meet my eyes. "I heard what happened to him and that little girl. I'm sorry about your loss, man. He was a good kid."

I swallowed hard, not about to start crying. My brother was okay. He wasn't dead. Instead of correcting him, I just nodded. "Thanks." He leaned on the bar; apparently waiting for me to ask whatever I wanted to know. "He was only fifteen," I told him instead.

"Yeah, I figured he was around that."

"What was he doing, hanging around a bar?"

He sighed, grabbing another glass and starting to wipe it down. "Kid showed up a few months ago…January or February probably. It was cold out and he came in around eight, took a seat in the back. I usually run the kids off but he looked like he was running from something. When I got closer, I saw he had a black eye, and he was holding his arm like he was hurt. I just let him be, and he left before midnight, but he came in the next night too. He'd come in about three times a week for a month, then he was coming almost every night, always out before midnight, never asking for anything to drink." He paused, eyes far away as he remembered. "Later he'd start bringing a book and he'd read. Then, when it got warmer, he'd sit outside by the back door. I'd give him a cherry coke sometimes. He was always polite…always said thank you. Then…a few weeks ago…" He shook his head. "I didn't even know the kid's name until then. Ponyboy Curtis. Never heard that one before."

I had to smile. "Our dad was an original guy. I'm Sodapop."

He snorted, shaking the hand I held out. "Dean," he introduced himself. "What about you two? More brothers?"

"Nah. Pony and I got an older brother, but he's just named after our dad. We got the tuff names. These guys are our buddies."

He hummed in understanding, grinning a little. "I'm sorry about your little brother, Sodapop. I didn't know he was with a foster family until he was on the news with that girl, Lianne."

"Yeah. It…it's been almost a year since I've seen him," I told him softly, my voice going weak. He shook his head, then glanced up when the door opened. The two guys walking in ignored us, heading up to the bar and taking seats at the other end from us. He muttered a 'excuse me' then headed over to make their drinks.

Steve nudged me a little. "He can't tell us anything, man. The kid hid out here to get away from that asshole he was living with."

I had to agree. He didn't know anything we didn't already suspect.

We started to stand when Dal flagged down the bartender. Dean pushed the drinks toward the two guys and headed over. "Anybody else come here looking for the kid? Ponyboy?" Dally asked, arms crossed.

Dean hesitated, glancing over at me. "Yeah. His foster father brought a couple of guys. They were asking if I'd seen him around. I told him no. Figured if the kid wanted his foster family to know where he hung out, he would have told him. I kind of got the feeling that guy was the one that gave him all those bruises."

"He was," I growled.

"Pony ever come in with anyone else?" Steve wanted to know.

"No. I saw him walk by with that girl sometimes on their way to school, though. And I saw him here the night someone killed that girl and he went missing. I told the cops everything."

I sighed. If he'd told the cops everything, he might as well have told Richard everything. Not that he would have known that. But Dally must have read my mind.

"That asshole is friends with a bunch of the cops in this town. If you told them everything, you told him everything."

"That asshole?"

"His foster father," Dally ran a hand through his hair. "The one that was beating the shit out of him."

"Don't foster kids usually have social workers?" Dean asked him, crossing his arms.

"Yeah. The asshole was sleeping with her. Probably still is."

"How exactly do you know this?"

I shook my head, dropping a hand on Dally's shoulder. "Don't matter. We'd better get home. Thanks for talking to us, Dean." I reached out, shaking his hand again, and he squeezed it for a minute.

"Sure thing, guys. Let me know if you want to know anything else."

I waved as we headed back out to the car, dropping into the passenger seat and leaning my head back against the headrest.

We were almost home when I finally spoke again. "Thanks for driving us, Dal."

"Don't mention it, man."

"Do you think…" I turned to face him and Steve in the back seat, forcing myself to get the words out. "Do you think we're going to be able to get this guy?"

Dally gave a lazy grin. "Legally? I don't know. But you'd better believe we're gonna get him."

I lifted an eyebrow. "And if we get caught doing it illegally?"

"Man, we ain't gonna get caught," he assured me.

"Let's try to do it legally first, huh? For Darry's sake at least," I suggested, a grin escaping against my will.

"Yeah, alright. We'll give that a try," he told me with a grin, reaching over and punching me in the arm. "Either way, you're getting your kid brother back."