20. Nightmares and Phonecalls
It had been a little while since I'd woken up screaming.
The first time it had happened, back after our parents had died, I hadn't remembered the dream that had caused it. Soda and Darry had come running, probably thinking it was a burglar or something, and Sodapop had shaken me awake. I'd felt awful since I knew Darry was tired and had work in the morning, so I'd told him I was sorry. He hadn't been mad, though, just worried, asking me if I was sure I was feeling okay and putting the back of his hand on my forehead.
Soda had ended up falling asleep in my room, telling Darry to go back to bed and throwing an arm around me. It had happened several times over the next few weeks, though, and every morning I'd apologized to Darry until he'd taken me to the doctor. He'd never been mad about it, but I'd hated waking him so much when he had to work.
It hadn't stopped altogether, but Soda sharing a room had helped.
Although it hadn't been too bad at the boy's home, the asshole had just about killed me the first time I'd woken him up…and every other time. Later, when I stopped sleeping in the room with Mark and Tyler, I hadn't had as many nightmares, but I hadn't exactly been sleeping. They were always worse when I was stressed or worried, so I was honestly kind of surprised that it had taken so long for them to come back. It hadn't happened since I'd come to New York, so I'd kind of thought the problem had gone away.
This time, I remembered the nightmare. I had been in that bedroom on the floor at the foot of the bed, and he had been beating on the door. I'd wanted to climb out the window or make a break for it, but I'd known I couldn't…I couldn't just let him hurt her. I couldn't just leave. But I'd known, in my dream, that if he got in, he'd kill me this time. I'd wanted to yell for Darry. Darry would protect me. Or Sodapop or Dal…Two-Bit or Steve. Any of them. I'd just have to yell.
But I couldn't yell.
The door had been thrown open and I'd finally started screaming, trying to call for my brothers but not able to form the words, and then someone had been shaking me. I swung, my fist connecting with something, and someone swore, pinning my arms. I'd screamed louder then, fighting with everything I had, when someone had yelled my name.
"Pony! Ponyboy, stop!"
I stopped. That was Johnny. My eyes flew open and immediately I found myself staring at a pissed looking James with a bloody nose. I jerked back, reminded all too clearly what it felt like to wake up to someone who was probably going to hit me. "Sorry. I'm sorry," I gasped out, trying to pull away. James let go of my arms, rolling his eyes and holding the neck of his t-shirt to his nose, soaking it with blood immediately.
"You got a hell of a right hook kid, even when you're asleep," he told me wryly, wiping his face, and Johnny moved to sit beside me, touching my arm.
"You okay, man?" he asked. I nodded, looking away so he wouldn't see me wiping my eyes. I'm sure he did anyway, but he didn't say anything, and neither did James. Instead, James waited for me to turn around and crossed his arms.
"Kid, you alright?"
"Yeah," I mumbled, nodding and clenching my jaw. My cheeks were hot and I hoped they couldn't see in the dark. "Time is it?" I asked, hoping to distract them
"About four in the morning."
"Sorry." I murmured again. James shrugged, and I was glad he wasn't going to hit me at least.
"Don't worry about it, kid. Go back to bed, you two," he ordered, heading back to his room and leaving me shaking on the sofa.
"What's wrong, Pone?" Johnny asked, putting a hand on my shoulder, and I shook my head, determined not to start crying. I was just tired. That was why I was acting like this. He squeezed my arm a little, sitting down beside me. "Pony?"
"Nothing. You can go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you."
He was quiet for a minute, then I guess he nodded or something because he scooted down to the floor and back to his nest of blankets. I couldn't stop shaking, though, and I gripped the blanket in my fists, fighting it. I had been like that some nights when I'd been in that hellhole…it's when it had started. Sure, James hadn't hurt me or nothing, but he hadn't looked happy and who knew what he'd do if I started waking him up on the regular. And I didn't want Johnny to regret coming either.
I missed my brothers. In that moment I missed them as much as I ever had, biting down on my hand and crying into the pillow. I wanted to go home. I wanted Darry and Soda and to know that the guys were there to have my back and I wanted my bed and my clothes and I even wanted Darry to bug me about coming home on time. Heck, he could bug me about anything he wanted…I'd do anything. For a long time, I thought about getting up and going to the payphone. They'd be asleep but they wouldn't be mad if I called. Even at two in the morning their time. I didn't get up though. I was too scared and too tired and, honestly, I felt awful. So I just closed my eyes, hoping I didn't have any more nightmares.
When I woke again, it was light out. I rubbed my eyes, pulling the covers over my head and trying to ignore the headache that started as soon as I opened my eyes. It was…Monday, I realized. The first day of our new job…my first job. Johnny's too, I figured. I wanted to close my eyes again…go back to sleep, but I didn't know what time it was or what time I needed to get up or where Johnny was.
I'd always thought my first job would be at the gas station with Soda. I don't know why…I wasn't great with cars, but Sodapop had taught me how to change a tire, and a little about how to mess around with an engine. I could work the counter too. Steve had once said he wouldn't trust me to fill his car up with gas, much less work on it, but Soda had punched him and told me he'd teach me everything I needed to know about cars. It had been Darry, though, who'd taught me how to change the oil in Dad's old truck.
A few weeks after our parents had died, Darry had had a day off…before we started fighting all the time. He'd woken me up early, even though I was off school, and had brought me outside where he'd had the truck jacked up. "What's the matter with it?" I'd asked, rubbing my eyes and wishing I could go back to bed. I'd slept in a lot that first month after we'd lost our parents. Looking back, I think he was worried.
He'd thrown an arm around my shoulder, messing up my already messy hair. "I gotta change the oil. C'mon."
He'd pulled me along, and even though I'd wanted to crawl back under the covers, I'd had a feeling that Darry really wanted to show me something, so I'd nodded, joining him as he lay down on the driveway, both of us laying under the truck as he pointed out the oil pan and showed me how to drain the oil, the bucket a few inches from my face as I hoped the truck didn't fall on us. And after a while, I'd even started having fun, and for a moment I'd forgotten that our mom and dad were gone.
While we'd stood in front of the truck, me holding a funnel while Darry poured in the oil, I'd finally let myself ask the question. "Dad taught you how to change the oil in the truck, right?" I'd asked, my voice barely audible, and he'd frozen beside me, pausing and putting the bottle of oil down to look at me. I'd just stared at the red funnel, my fingers slick and black with grease as I'd done my best to hang on to the piece of plastic and not let it slip.
"Yeah." He'd nodded a little, reaching out and putting a dirty hand on my shoulder. I hadn't wanted to start crying, but I probably had…he'd put his arms around me anyway, rubbing my back and resting his head on mine. "It's gonna be okay, kiddo. I'll teach you."
And he hadn't just been talking about the car…anything Dad had taught him and Sodapop that he would have taught me, Darry had shown me.
I lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling and remembering Darry's arms around me, his hand rubbing my back as we'd stood by his truck, both of us smelling like oil. I hadn't spent a lot of my time at home thinking about Darry…mostly just avoiding him. But I missed him so much. I missed my big brother…the one who'd picked me up from school when I was a kid and who'd helped me with my homework and who'd made sure nobody messed with me too much, even the guys. I'd never been apart from my family for this long. I pictured them every day, desperate not to forget their faces or their voices…how they'd grin and laugh or yell or swat at me or tickle me…how Darry would come home and hang up his tool belt while Soda just kicked off his shoes in the middle of the living room.
I didn't want to forget none of it.
"Pone? You awake?" Johnny's voice was real quiet and I blinked a few times, turning to look at him.
"Yeah," I mumbled. "Time is it?"
"Almost noon. You feeling okay?"
I must have looked pretty bad for him to ask. Or maybe he was talking about the nightmare. Either way, I didn't want to talk about it. "Sure. I'm alright." I sat up, pushing my hair back and leaning against the sofa. My head was killing me and I was dizzy, but I didn't need him worrying even more. He was already looking at me like I was dying or something, so I pushed myself to my feet, heading to the bathroom, then meeting him in the kitchen when I was done where he scooted a plate of eggs toward me.
"Ain't you gonna eat?" I wondered
"I woke up about an hour ago…already ate. You sure you're feeling okay?"
"Yeah. I'm fine." I yawned, rubbing my eyes. "Just haven't been sleeping real good." Of course, he already knew that, but I didn't want to talk about that. I ate the eggs, or as much as I could. I wasn't really hungry, but I didn't want him to worry. He didn't ask again, just nodded, and I tried not to let on how awful I felt.
"We ain't gotta be at work until seven. What do you wanna do until then?"
I thought about it for a second. The library would be fine, but I figured if we went to the library every day, we'd start to get sick of it, Johnny especially, and I didn't want him to regret coming here. I didn't even want to think about what would happen if he decided to go home. I'd miss him so much…I wouldn't know what to do here by myself now that I was used to having someone with me. "I don't know…what do you wanna do?" I asked.
He shrugged. We didn't have TV or a radio to listen to. We didn't have a book to read or friends to hang out with. And I'd thought I'd been bored at home sometimes.
"Maybe we can go catch a movie. Walk around…see if there's anything else to do."
It wasn't likely…we'd been walking around the neighborhood for days, and I'd been walking around by myself for a week before he'd showed up, so I knew there wasn't much in this neighborhood to do. Maybe James could introduce us to his friends…or maybe not. I'd met one, and he'd been a jerk. It was possible that he had nicer friends, but I doubted it. There was a theater a few blocks away but there weren't any good films showing. Still, it wasn't like I had any ideas.
"Sure." I shrugged. It couldn't hurt.
He was quiet for a minute, not standing from the couch. "Why don't you call Sodapop first?" he suggested finally.
I was kind of surprised. I wanted to call Soda…more than anything…especially after last night. I hadn't talked to him since I'd gotten out of that hellhole. But I was scared too. What if he was upset with me? I hadn't gone to him when I'd been in trouble. I'd lied to him when he'd asked if I was okay…even though he couldn't have done anything. I never lied to him. Not Sodapop. I tried to tell him everything. Even though he could have gotten himself hurt trying to help me, I felt bad for not telling him.
Anyway, the longer I'd put off calling him, the longer I could put off telling him the truth. I mean, he wouldn't make me talk or nothing, but I'd feel like I should and I couldn't bear the thought of telling him. Not about the cigarettes or the belt or the girls. None of it. Even over the phone.
He'd look at me different. They all would. Johnny already did, and so had Dally. I wasn't just Darry and Soda's tag-along kid brother anymore. I was a kid who'd been taken away from his family and put into foster care with a man who beat him. I had the scars to prove it, all up and down my arms and my side and even my face. They would see it as soon as they looked at me. I was a victim. A kid who'd been abused. And I couldn't stand to think about how bad that would hurt Sodapop.
"Yeah…okay," I told Johnny, bringing myself back to the present. I was grateful to have him…to have someone around who cared and who knew. He knew how much I missed Sodapop, and how Soda used to sit with me after a nightmare, holding onto me and rubbing my back and promising it would be okay. Heck, he'd been at the house before when it happened. I needed Sodapop and Sodapop took care of me. Everyone knew it.
Only now he couldn't anymore.
I reached into my pocket and dug for change, finding a dime and replacing it in my pocket, wondering if I was leaving him alone or if James was around. Maybe he was still asleep in his room. I just hoped he'd been able to get back to sleep and wasn't mad at me. Last thing I needed was to get on the wrong side of the guy letting us stay with him. I mean, he hadn't seemed too mad. Just gruff, like Dally, but not like he was gonna hurt me or anything.
Not that Dallas had ever really hurt me, or let anyone else.
"Hey, Pone!" Johnny called before I could shut the door, and I hesitated, leaving the door ajar and waiting. Glory I was dizzy. It came and went, leaving me feeling light headed and sick.
"Yeah?"
"Can, uh…can you ask if my parents are alright…if they're asking about me?"
I dropped my eyes, feeling guilty, and he must have known it. Johnny was here because of me. And yeah, his parents sucked. But they were still his parents. I guessed I'd give just about anything to have my parents back.
"Sure. I'll ask."
"Thanks, Pone."
I nodded, shutting the door behind me and feeling guilty still. If it weren't for me, he'd still be at home. Then again, his parents beat the crap out of him all the time. Now they couldn't hurt him. Still, it was my fault he was here, worrying about them and wishing they worried about him when he wasn't there.
The payphone I'd used before was just down the road from the apartment, thankfully. I headed towards it, glancing around and looking out for cars or the New York equivalent of socs, not that I'd really seen any. No one was around…well…no one that cared about me or what I was doing, so I pushed the dime into the slot on the payphone, leaning against the glass as I dialed one of the numbers I knew by heart. The streets were pretty busy, guys my age and a little older slouching in their leather jackets despite the heat, and a few girls too, gathering in groups and talking.
The phone rang a few times, and my heart dropped a little. They should be open, I knew. And they had to answer the phone…right? I was about to give up when the ringing stopped. "DX this is Steve."
Steve. I grinned a little, finding that I really did miss Sodapop's best friend. He'd been real friendly on the phone before, when he'd asked to talk to me after Darry and I had talked a few days ago. He'd been pretty nice before, too…back when I'd called the DX from the boy's home and then from the hellhole. "Hello?" I snapped to attention, realizing that I hadn't said anything, and hoping Steve wouldn't just assume I was a prank caller and hang up. He sounded upset…almost wary. Maybe they'd been getting prank calls. It happened sometimes.
"Um…yeah…hey Steve," I managed lamely, closing my eyes and leaning on the glass door of the pay phone, hoping that would stop the world around me from spinning. "It's Pony. Is Soda around?"
"Pony?" His tone changed then, going from irritated to…well…excited. "Shit, Ponyboy, Soda's gonna be happy to talk to you!"
"Yeah," I told him, smiling like an idiot and too tired to try to come up with a smart remark. "How you been?"
"Since the last time we talked?" He gave an incredulous laugh, then seemed to sober up some, his voice awful serious all of a sudden. "I'm…I'm fine, kid. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm alright. Got a job," I told him proudly, knowing how he'd react to that. Sure enough, I could hear the amusement in his voice when he answered.
"Really? Who the hell hired you?"
I snorted. "Grocery store. We're gonna be doing stock, putting stuff away…real exciting stuff."
"At least it ain't cars." I rolled my eyes but he was teasing, not being mean, so I didn't care. Heck, I missed him teasing me. "How's Johnny?"
"Fine…asked me to see if his parents were looking for him."
Steve sighed then, voice almost scolding. "You know they ain't, kid."
"Yeah, I know. Just told him I would ask."
He hummed, obviously understanding. "You sure you guys are okay?" I couldn't help being surprised at the genuine concern in his voice. "Nobody's bugging you or anything?"
"Yeah, I'm sure."
"Good. Never thought I'd miss you, kid."
"Yeah? I knew you would."
He laughed a little, then broke off. "Here comes Soda. Hang on a sec." I guess he pulled the phone away from his face because when he spoke next, he sounded further away. "Hey, Soda!" He called. I heard my brother's distant reply but couldn't make out the words. "Some guy on the phone…wants to talk to a mechanic."
" You're a mechanic!" I heard Soda snap and fought a laugh.
"I'm busy. Here."
"Ass." After a second the phone changed hands and my brother's voice came on. "This is Soda," he barked, sounding impatient. I wondered if he was stressed about money or work or something else. He was usually pretty cheerful, even at work.
"Soda…that's kind of a weird name." I put just enough doubt in my voice to bug him.
"Look, pal…" he started, but I broke in before he could get real mad.
"I mean, mine's Ponyboy so I can't really talk."
He seemed to choke on his words then, and immediately I was teary-eyed too. Out of everyone, I missed him the most. He was my favorite brother…my favorite person. He was the person I could always talk to, who'd always stand up for me. But this time, I hadn't. I hadn't gone to him. I hadn't even tried to contact him since that last time at the asshole's house. My heart ached when I heard his halting voice on the other line, like he couldn't believe it was me.
"Pony?" he asked, and I knew he was probably crying too. I wiped at my eyes, closing them and leaning against the glass of the phone booth.
"Hey, Soda," I murmured, hoping he knew how much I missed him…hoping he could hear it in my voice.
"Glory, kiddo. Are you okay?" He asked, sniffing a little.
"Yeah, I'm okay." I opened my eyes when I started to get dizzy again. Maybe I was getting sick. I'd thought it was just stress. "How are you doing?" I asked, hoping we could try and make some kind of small talk…pretend things were normal.
He laughed a little, not sounding really amused. Just sad. "I'm better now. It's not fair Darry got to talk to ya before."
"You were asleep," I reminded him with a grin.
"He could have woken me up," he whined, making me laugh.
"It was early. I told him I'd call back."
"I'm glad you did." He was quiet for a second. "You sure you're okay? You sound tired."
"Yeah, just can't sleep too good. I miss you, Soda."
"I miss you too, honey. More than you know. You guys got enough money? Is Dally's friend treating you okay?"
I thought of James and gave a half smile. "He's alright. And Johnny and I got a job. We're gonna be stock boys at a grocery store."
"Sounds fun." He sounded off though…sad. Worried, maybe.
"I'm sure it won't be too bad…we start tonight."
"Is it close? To where you're staying?"
"Yeah, not too far," I told him, wondering why it mattered. Then again, I guess he didn't want me walking alone. The thought of him being worried about me walking home alone after everything else that had happened to me was almost funny. "Besides, Johnny's gonna be with me."
"Call me after…let me know how it goes," he urged, sounding like my brother again.
"We don't get off until eleven…"
"Don't care. It's your day at your first job. I wanna know how it goes."
"It'll be 9 your time…you and Steve will probably be out somewhere."
"No, we won't," he told me softly, and it sounded like he was crying. "I'll be sitting by the phone until you call."
I hated that thought. I hated thinking of Darry and Soda sitting by a phone, waiting for me to call instead of living their lives. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair, I thought, exhaustion creeping into my bones.
"Alright. I'll call. Promise."
"Good. So…any chance you'll tell me where you are?"
I shook my head even though he couldn't see, and just that made me dizzy again. I knew if I told him, he'd find a way to get up here, and then James would have him sleeping on the porch. Or even worse, Richard would follow him up here. I wondered briefly if Richard had made any kind of contact with them yet, but was too afraid to ask. It was like people that didn't like talking about the Devil in case he showed up or something…maybe just saying that asshole's name out loud would summon him.
"I better not…Dally told me to keep my mouth shut," I reminded him. I hated it. I wished he didn't have to worry. Or even better, that he could come up here somehow so I could see him. If I could just hug my big brother, everything would be okay.
"Yeah…that's probably for the best," he sighed, and I almost regretted it, but I knew he'd just get us both in trouble if I told him. Soda was my best friend and I loved him a lot, but he was also one of the most impulsive people I knew. "I uh…I saw the place you were living at. With that family."
I frowned at that, squeezing the phone a little and feeling my stomach knot up. Soda shouldn't have been there…ever. "How come?" Two greasy guys tried to cross the street in front of the phone booth and jerked back onto the sidewalk when a car whizzed by, blowing its horn. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the noise and how it made my ears ring and my head swim. Soda either didn't hear or ignored it.
"I wanted to talk to that bartender."
"You didn't…you guys didn't talk to…to him , did you?" I asked, the dread turning into a knot in my stomach, hoping he knew who I was talking about. Of course he did.
"Nope. Just the bartender," he told me, his voice cautious and slow.
"Why did you want to talk to him?"
"Just trying to find out if anyone else had seen anything…or knew anything. Darry talked to the cop that told us you were missing. Name's officer Charlton…he's gonna help us, kiddo."
I didn't know how I felt about him talking to the bartender who'd helped me out, but I was glad to hear that the cop was gonna help. Still, I didn't like the idea of them going around playing detective. If Richard found out…it would be bad. "What's he gonna do?"
"They're gonna start looking into that guy…Richard." I flinched when I heard his name said out loud. "Try to prove he killed that girl." My heart clenched and I stared down at the floor of the payphone booth. "Pone?"
"Yeah. Sounds good. I hope he can figure something out."
"Yeah…" Soda was quiet for a minute. "That bartender…he said you used to go there a lot."
"I did," I admitted softly. "Didn't drink or nothing." I didn't want him to think I'd been drinking or getting into trouble. He believed me, though. Of course he did. He always did.
"That's what he said…he also said you always had black eyes and bruises and looked pretty rough." I had no response to that. It was true, but I didn't want to talk about it. "I know…I mean, I asked if everything was okay on the phone…"
Immediately I was guilty. "Soda…I didn't…"
His voice was immediately gentle and reassuring. "Hey, I ain't mad atcha. I don't blame you for lying. I know you probably don't want to talk about it. But I'm here if you do, okay? If that guy…whatever he did, you can tell me. If you want." I hummed like I agreed, closing my eyes and trying not to think about it. "Can I ask you something?" he asked suddenly, voice soft.
My voice when I answered sounded dead, even to me. "Sure." Didn't mean I would answer. It was bad enough that Soda and Darry knew as much as they did. I couldn't bear the thought of telling them more.
"Those two guys…your foster brothers, they said you didn't sleep at the house a lot of the time."
"That ain't a question," I muttered, my heart speeding up.
"Where were you sleeping, Pone?"
"Just around," I lied immediately. "There was an empty lot around the corner, or sometimes behind the bar. Lots of places."
"Glory, Pony…"
"I'm fine now, Soda." I reminded him, hating how his voice broke. "Got a place to sleep inside and a job and everything."
"We're gonna get you home as soon as we can, okay honey?"
"I know you will." I did. I had more faith in my brothers than anyone. He must have said something else I didn't catch, the glass of the phone booth cool against my forehead. "What?" I asked when he repeated my name, trying to force my eyes open.
"What's the matter, kiddo?" Of course he knew I wasn't feeling great…he could always tell.
"Just tired…think I might be getting sick," I admitted. I was so tired of lying to him. He deserved at least some of the truth.
"Yeah?" He immediately went from sort of worried to freaked out and I tried to calm him down.
"It's nothing…probably just a cold."
He hummed a little, not sounding happy. "Get some rest, Pone. Be careful, okay?"
"Yeah. I will. Love you, Soda."
I could hear the smile in his voice when he answered. "I love you too, kiddo. So much. I'll talk to you tonight, right?"
"Yeah. I'll call when we get off."
"Good."
We hung up, him telling me again to be careful, then I headed back to the apartment where Johnny was waiting. He didn't ask about his parents. I suppose he guessed, correctly, that my silence meant they weren't asking for him. "How you feeling, Pone?" he asked instead. I shrugged, sitting down on the sofa while he stood across from me, arms crossed.
"Fine. You wanted to go to the movies?" I asked, changing the subject fast as I could. I didn't want to talk about how I was feeling. I didn't even know myself. It wasn't good, regardless.
"Yeah," he answered slowly, watching me carefully. "How's Soda."
"He's alright…said they found a cop that was gonna help. He's gonna start looking at Richard…see if they can get anything on him."
"Hey, that's good." He dropped onto the sofa beside me, nudging me with his shoulder. "Right?"
"Yeah, I mumbled, dropping my head back against the wall. My head was pounding and every time I closed my eyes, I felt the world spin too fast, but it wasn't much better when they were open. "You wanna go to the movies or not?"
"Sure," he answered slowly. "Yeah, let's go." He stood first, holding out a hand that I took, pulling myself to my feet and doing my best not to sway. He clapped me on the shoulder, giving me a look. "You sure you don't wanna lay down or something? You look kind of sick."
"Yeah, I'm sure." I assured him. No way I was gonna lay around all day worrying Johnny. I gave him the best grin I could. "Bet we can sneak in."
He grinned then, nodding, and followed me out the door.
