24. Drinking
"You're gonna be just fine, kid. We're gonna look out for you. Darry and Soda, and the rest of us too, savvy?"
That's what I'd said to newly fourteen-year-old Ponyboy Curtis, Sodapop's shadow and Johnny's best friend the morning after his birthday. I'd known the kid for years, and I'd been looking out for him for just as long. I'd watched his back in fights. I'd walked him and Johnny around town, to and from school, to the library, to the DX…I'd been there during his first rumble when he'd snuck out with his brothers and had come home with a black eye.
I'd also watched him break the nose of the soc who'd given it to him.
I'd stepped out onto the porch to find him crying. No…not just crying. Sobbing. The kind of heart-breaking, too painful to stop sobbing that my baby sister had done when our old man had split. Just like I'd done with her, I'd sat down beside him, rubbing his back then all out holding him, knowing he was embarrassed but also that he couldn't help it. But the kid was right…it wasn't fair. None of this was fair. Not their parents both dying or Darry having to try so hard to keep his family together and keep them afloat. It wasn't fair. But we both knew that there was nothing we could do about that, so we just had to do the best we could. And I'd meant what I'd said. We would look out for Ponyboy.
It was the same thing I assured Darry of all the time, especially after their parents had died and he'd been worried all the time, suddenly trying to keep track of two little brothers at all times. I'd look after Ponyboy. All of us would, but I was the oldest. Plus, I liked Pony. He was a good kid. Tough and smart and kind of a smartass but he got that from me, so I was proud. Darry, not so much. Still, I'd promised Darry over and over that I'd look out for Pone…that the kid was safe with me. And sure, Darry and Soda worried about me drinking around the kid, but they trusted me.
I'd started drinking around 2 o'clock, after we'd saved the kid from those socs. I figured I'd just drink a few, maybe three or four, then meet the kids at the movies. I'd been late, though, and had found the kids sitting with some pretty soc girls. Not bugging them or anything. Pony and Johnny were nice kids. They wouldn't hurt any girls…heck they didn't even talk to them much unless they were out with one of us. So it had been kind of a surprise to find them sitting with Cherry and Marcia, Bob and Randy's girls. I'd figured we could give the girls a ride home, then I'd tell them they'd better stay away from those girls. I mean, I knew they'd never bother them or hurt 'em, but those socs would be mad if they knew, and then we'd have two more of them after those kids, which was the last thing we needed. Of course, I'd tried to get Marcia's number, but I could take care of those socs if they came after me...they couldn't.
Or so I'd thought.
When we'd met Bob and Randy on our way to my truck, I'd given Pony the bottle, not thinking he'd ever use it. But now…now I think he'd have used it if we'd needed him to. Had either of us needed his help, I had a feeling that he'd have stepped up. Either way, those girls had left and then I'd gone home to drink some more. That's why I hadn't walked the kids home. Sure we hadn't been too far from his house, but we'd been far enough.
"We're gonna look out for you." That's what I'd said to him.
"I'll keep an eye on him, don't worry. I won't let anyone bug him." That's what I'd said to Darry.
Darry had been worried just about all the time…Sodapop too. After their parents had died, Pony had seemed to disappear. I mean, he was there, but his mind hadn't been. He'd stopped talking, stopped eating…barely read or anything. Just sat around, starting at the TV or the wall or whatever happened to be in front of him. Dally and Johnny would drag him to movies and he'd just sit there, shrugging when I'd ask him what the movie had been about. Sodapop would try and talk to him…he'd had more success than the rest of us, but still…
His brothers had been real scared, especially when he wouldn't eat or talk much, but I'd known that he'd just needed time. So I'd kept taking him to the movies, giving him rides to school and buying him lunches he barely ate. Almost a month after his parents died, around his fourteenth birthday, he'd been coming out of it. And the day after, when I'd held him on the porch and told him it was going to be okay, he'd started smiling again…started going to movies and reading his books and doing better in school. Right before his parents had died, he'd been bumped up a grade, putting him in the same school as the rest of us, which he'd seemed to like, but it must have kept him away from his other friends, which probably made things harder for him.
Anyway, he was getting better and all of us were relieved, but we still kept an eye on him. All of us. Dally took him to the movies…until he got locked up for a few months. Then it was me, hanging out with him and Johnny and watching their backs. At school, Steve kept a close eye on him, even though the kid never really suspected Steve of looking after him. Either way, he kept the socs off his back and beat the hell out of anyone that messed with the kid.
Ponyboy looked up to me. That's what Soda had told me after I'd woken up with a hangover at their house once. And I'd taken it to heart. Sure I still drank around the kid, but I tried to be careful. Let him have a sip of my beer every once in a while…heck, I even gave him one to drink sometimes, but I kept a close eye on him, and I tried not to get too drunk when I was looking after him. But I'd gotten into it with my mom that day. She was seeing some guy who'd left a bruise on her, and I'd wanted to know his name.
Mom dated sometimes, and it didn't bug me, but no way was I letting her bring that man anywhere near my baby sister. She'd left for work, refusing to tell me, and I'd started drinking. I'd told the kids and Dally I'd join them, but I'd lost track of time, and then, when the soc girls had gone with their boyfriends…I'd just wanted to get home and drink some more. Marcia had been a good reminder of what exactly I was…a greaser. Some worthless, drunk, JD hood…that was how Marcia saw me. Hell, it was probably how my little sister would start seeing me soon.
The kids had stopped at the lot and fell asleep. That's why Darry and Ponyboy had gotten into it. I had to admit, I had been pretty mad at Darry…I still kind of was. Ponyboy had said that his brother hated him…that he didn't want him. That he wanted to send Pony to a boy's home. It was a ridiculous idea, but I knew the kid had meant it. I guess because Darry was on him all the time. Lately Pony had been avoiding Darry as much as he could, and Sodapop was stressed because he was always stuck in the middle. Darry was stressed because he worked all the time and never had any fun anymore, but the kid didn't get that. I guess he was just too young to realize it.
Sure, it had been dumb for those two to stop at the lot and fall asleep, especially with socs after them. Pony's curfew wasn't until midnight as long as it wasn't a school night, but he was usually in before that. He was a good kid…never got into fights at school or caused any real trouble around town…was careful never to do anything that could cause trouble for Darry. Didn't start things with socs, didn't mess with any girls…him and Johnny both were good kids. But they had their heads in the clouds, not a lot of common sense between them, and they'd fallen asleep talking, which sounded just like them.
Then they'd taken the kid. It was Darry's worst fear…Sodapop and the kid's too. Ponyboy had been scared to death that him and his brothers would get separated…that someone would take him away from the only family he knew. And they had. He'd nearly been killed in the park while I was passed out drunk in my bed…him and Johnny both. Johnny had had to just about kill someone to save Ponyboy's life. And I'd been passed out drunk in my bed. Then they'd taken him. They'd taken Ponyboy away and we hadn't seen him in nearly a year.
He'd called…he'd talked to Sodapop a couple of times, but according to Soda, the kid hadn't been okay. Now I knew why. That man had hurt him. He'd beaten him and tortured him and…Ponyboy was just a kid. Just a little kid that had been afraid that his big brother wanted to send him to a boy's home and who'd cried the morning after his fourteenth birthday because he wanted his mom and dad. He'd lost his family and friends and had been put with a man that put out cigarettes on his arm when he caught him smoking, which had apparently been often. And who knew what else that man had done to him?
The night the kid's foster brothers had come and told Soda and Darry all of it…the night Pony's brothers had told the rest of us what that man had done to Ponyboy, I'd gone home and cried, holed up in my room. All I could think of was the kid crying the day after his birthday…how he'd sobbed on my shoulder for close to half an hour on his front porch. He was too young for that…too young to have been so afraid. And after I'd finished crying, I'd started drinking and I don't think I stopped since. Until last night.
Ponyboy wouldn't let Sodapop down. He'd do just about anything to make Soda happy. He loved his brother more than anyone and those two were close. So if Ponyboy had told his brother that he'd call back, he'd call back, come hell or high water. We'd been waiting all night for the kid to call…the poker game was just a distraction. Something to keep Soda from going crazy with the waiting.
I knew Darry wanted to suggest he and Steve go out for a while since Soda tended to get a little stir crazy, but I also knew Soda wouldn't go anywhere and risk missing his chance to talk to Pony. Neither would I. I just wanted to talk to the kid. Just wanted to hear him telling me he really was okay. I'd let him down and I had to know if that could be forgiven…not that the kid would hold it against me…not the kid that I knew, anyway. Who knew what he was like now? Something like what he'd gone through changed a guy. I didn't know if I could bear seeing him different…scared like Johnny or mean like Dally. Or maybe he'd turned into a drunk like me. I didn't know which would be worse.
The night before, when someone had thrown a rock through the Curtis's window, I'd been laying on my bed, my sixth beer in my hand. Flipping through an old magazine, I'd been trying to decide between a bar and Tim's place for my first stop that night. I couldn't just lay in my bed and drink all night…my mom would be coming home soon and she hated to see me too drunk to stand up. Said it reminded her of my old man. So I tried to do my heavy drinking elsewhere.
My little sister had knocked on my door, peeking into my room from the hallway. She usually just came in, but when I was drinking a lot, she tended to stay away. Recently, she'd stayed away a lot, and under the constant buzz, I felt kind of bad. She was a cool kid and I loved her a lot. I didn't want her to be scared of me like she'd been of our old man sometime when he'd get going. Even drunk, I'd never lay a hand on her. I'd never laid a hand on anyone I liked drunk.
"Keith?" she'd all but whispered. Her eyes had been red-rimmed, her fingers wrapped around the door frame as a tear had dripped from the corner of her eye. If I hadn't been out of it, I would have been more worried about that.
"Yeah…what's up, kid?" I'd asked, trying not to slur too much, dropping the magazine beside my bed where it fell against the wall. It really wasn't the kind she needed to be seeing.
"Can I ask you something?" she'd asked, her voice too quiet.
I'd nodded. "Sure thing, kiddo."
"Is…is Ponyboy dead?"
I'd frozen, then sat up, staring at her with wide eyes, ignoring the fact that she backed away when the beer had slipped out of my hand, hitting the floor hard.
"Where the hell did you hear that?" I'd asked, my voice coming out harder than I'd meant it to.
"A girl in my class…said that someone killed him. Out behind a bar. Him and his foster sister."
"That girl's a damn liar!" I'd snapped, hands tight. "He ain't dead. He's fine." He could have been dead, though. And it would have been my fault. If the kid had died, it would have been on me. I don't think Soda or Darry would have seen it that way, but it still would have been my fault. I'd stood, swaying a little as I'd done my best to storm out, on my way to the Curtis house. Sure, they disapproved of my drinking, but they'd let me stay the night. Maybe I could ask them about the kid…see if they'd heard from him.
Susan had backed away, getting out of my way, and I'd caught her arm, releasing her immediately when she'd flinched. That, at least, had sobered me up a little. "Hey…it's alright, Suzie. I'm sorry." I'd wrapped an arm clumsily around her, and she'd hugged me, hesitant as she'd leaned her head against me, then pulled away, wrinkling her nose.
"You smell like beer, Keith."
"Go to bed. I'm gonna stay over at Darry and Soda's if you need me, okay?"
She'd nodded, slinking off to her room, and I'd resolved to drink less around her. She looked up to me too.
The kid hadn't called. He'd promised to call and he hadn't. We all knew that was bad. He wouldn't let Soda down. Ever. I couldn't believe he'd changed that much. No matter what, he wouldn't want to let his big brother down, or worry him any more than he had to. He was a good kid. Man, I missed him. I missed taking him to the movies and hanging out with him at school and finding him at the house, nose in a book and oblivious to everything else going on.
Something was wrong. If he'd promised Sodapop that he'd call, nothing much would have stopped him. If that kid was hurt, it would be on me. I don't think Darry would blame me. Not Sodapop either. But it was my fault. I'd let those kids wander home on their own, knowing that socs were wandering around, ready to hunt them down. I should have walked them home, or at least to Ponyboy's house. I should have made sure they were okay before going home to drink.
I'd grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels from my truck on the way, taking a swig as I'd walked, then another. My mom was seeing some guy that had hit her, and I'd need to take care of that. I was drinking myself to death…even I could see it. The kid was gone, Johnny too, and I had no idea if they were alright. Darry and Soda were freaking out, worried all the time. And as I'd approached the house, I'd frozen on the sidewalk out front, dropping the almost empty whiskey bottle and had stared at the gaping hole where their window should have been.
Sodapop grabbed the phone, stepping around his brother. Darry didn't try to stop him, just sighed, watching him dial, and we all listened as he demanded to speak to Dallas. After a second, Dally must have picked up…he was a lot more available these days. Then again, he had two kids stashed who-knows-where, relying on him, so I guess he was laying low. "Dal? It's Soda."
I could just make out Dal's voice from the phone. I scooted closer, and we all leaned in, listening, even Darry. "Yeah, Buck told me. What do you need, man?"
"I need you to call Pony and Johnny."
"Why?"
"Because he hasn't called."
"Maybe he's busy."
"He should have called hours ago. Something's wrong." Dal was still being quiet and I tried to listen but I couldn't catch any of his words. Soda clenched his jaw. "He said he wasn't feeling good…that he might be getting sick. I need to talk to him." Dallas said something else, and Soda sighed. "Please, Dally. Please. I'm worried. I just…I need to talk to him. Please."
There was silence for a moment, and then Soda hung up the phone, turning to Darry and crossing his arms. "Dally's on his way over."
Darry just nodded, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing for a second. Steve sat back, apparently getting comfortable, and I did the same, crossing my arms.
That morning, Darry had shaken me awake. Well…closer to afternoon, after Sodapop and Steve had already gone to work. I'd tried to push him off, but he'd kept his hand on my arm. "Wake up, Two. Come on, man. Time to get up."
"What?" I'd groaned, flinching at the light as he pulled the curtains, letting the afternoon light into the room. "Shit, Dar…close that, will ya?"
"No," Darry had snapped, dropping into his recliner and crossing his arms. Groaning again, I'd managed to throw my legs over the side of the couch, rubbing my face and leaning back, trying to open my eyes against the light. Finally, I was able to manage it, blinking and fighting back another groan. My head was killing me, and I couldn't think real well around the pounding in my head.
"What's up, man?" I'd finally asked, running a hand through my hair.
"I was going to ask you the same thing." I had been quiet, not sure how to answer that. "What's up, Two-Bit?"
"Nothing…just sleeping." I'd grinned, trying to lighten the mood, but he'd just stared at me in the same way he'd stared at Ponyboy, back when the kid had been quiet and all clammed up. I'd yawned a little, crossing my arms and letting the grin fall.
"It ain't none of my business what you do, Two-Bit…"
"Well, you're right about that," I'd interrupted, but he'd gone on like I hadn't said anything.
"…but we're worried." That had stopped me in my tracks, my mouth dropping open a little before I'd snapped it shut. "You're drinking too much, Two…you're hardly ever around and you're getting in fights."
"Wow…sounds like my old man crawled out of his grave to do some last minute parenting."
Darry had lifted an eyebrow, surprised. "Your old man's dead?"
"Surely someone's killed that asshole by now," I'd deadpanned, and he'd grinned just a bit.
"What's going on, Two-Bit?" I'd shaken my head.
"Nothing, man. It's summer vacation. I'm enjoying my freedom."
He'd hummed a little, rolling his eyes. "Try to enjoy it a little less, wouldya? You're freaking Soda out, and he's got enough to worry about."
That had surprised me a little, and I'd leaned in, a sinking feeling in my gut. "What's Sodapop got to do with this?"
"Apparently you and him had a talk last night."
I'd scratched my head, frowning and trying to remember. "Nope…don't think so…"
"Oh, you did. Went on about how bad you felt for Pony…how awful it was, everything that he'd gone through. That's what Steve said anyway."
I'd sworn, downing the water. It was an unwritten rule between all of us…don't bring up the kid, at least not to Darrel or Sodapop. Or if you got to, then don't talk about what that man had done to the kid. Steve had been stupid enough to make some kind of dumb joke about the kid tagging along or something, and Darrel had just about broken his jaw. I was surprised that Steve still had his front teeth. Soda had been so mad he hadn't spoken to him for days, even at work. I hadn't really wanted to talk to him either. He hadn't meant anything by it, but it had been stupid. And that hole in the wall…no one even wanted to ask about that.
I'd pulled myself to my feet, pushing a hand against my head and then dropping it, feeling I deserved the hangover. Heading into the kitchen, I'd grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from his sink, downing it. "I'm sorry," I'd murmured, placing the glass in the sink and crossing my arms, facing Darry who had come to stand in the doorway.
"Just ease up, alright man?"
I'd nodded, not sure how I was going to keep my word on that one. Still, all day I'd managed to stay sober, sticking around the house until Darry had brought the new window, then helped him put it in. I was pretty shit at construction work, but I did my best, taking orders and trying not to upset him any more than he already was. They'd cleaned up the glass while I'd been asleep the night before, so he just put the old broken window out with the trash.
Dally showed up about twenty minutes after Soda called him, throwing the door open and nodding hello. Not sparing the rest of us much of a glance, he crossed his arms and stared at Sodapop. "What's going on?"
"Ponyboy said he'd call tonight…he didn't. He said he was feeling sick earlier…what if something happened to him?"
"Johnny's with him," Dallas reminded him, not looking convinced himself.
"Shit, Dallas, just call him!" I snapped, my hand slamming onto the coffee table. He turned to me, wide-eyed and almost mad, and I jumped to my feet. "He told Soda he'd call and he hasn't…something's wrong. You know he wouldn't lie to Soda…not now." The guys were all staring at me with varying degrees of worry, but I ignored them, my eyes on Dallas. "Please, Dal. Just…call him."
He sighed, rolling his eyes a little, then grabbed the phone from the table beside Darry's recliner. "It's long distance," he warned Darry, a wry look on his face.
Darry just waved a hand, sitting back down on the sofa, and I joined him and Steve, all of us leaning forward. Soda stayed where he was, arms crossed, jaw tight. Dally sat in the recliner, phone to his ear, waiting as the phone rang.
"It's almost three in the morning there, you know? He might…hey, man. It's Dal." There was a voice on the other line, but I couldn't make out any of the words. Soda came closer, leaning in, but he looked pretty frustrated so I didn't think he could hear either. We were all so quiet you could hear a pin drop, though, our eyes glued to Dally.
For a minute, Dally was quiet, but then he rubbed a hand down his face. "Yeah? Johnny got him home, though?" Sodapop glanced over at Darry who was staring straight at our buddy, not hardly blinking. "Yeah, alright man. You think he needs a doctor?"
Darry jumped up then, holding out his hand. "Let me talk to him," he demanded, and Dally started to shake his head. Darry looked real mad, though, and even though Dally might be able to hold his own against the oldest Curtis brother, he seemed to know better than to try it at the moment. None of us would ever risk fighting Darry over something involving Pony. He'd do anything for that kid.
"James? The kid's brother wants to talk to you." There was a pause, and Dal grinned a little. "Yeah, the big one."
Darry managed a half smile but got serious as soon as he grabbed the receiver, jerking his head, and Dally jumped up, giving him back his chair.
"James? This is Darrel Curtis. Where the hell's my little brother?"
