26. Intruders
I was laying on my bed, flipping through a novel that Ponyboy had lent me when I heard the bed in the other room squeak. Putting the book down on the blanket beside me, I sat up, waiting for the next squeak before jumping to my feet. Mom was at work, which was nothing new, so it was just me and Keith. She'd been working all-nighters at the bar for weeks now. I guess we needed the money…or maybe she just liked to spend all her time with that guy she was seeing…she'd met him at the bar. Slipping out of my room and into the hallway, I glanced around, then headed to the room across from mine.
"Where are you going?" I chanced the question, leaning in Keith's doorway. He'd been bumming around the house with his door closed all day, and I wondered if he was drinking or just reading his dirty magazines I wasn't supposed to know about. These days, he was just as likely to snap at me as to answer. He hadn't been like this before…but he hadn't drank so much before either. I knew him and the rest of his friends were all real worried about Pony, who'd been taken away from his family almost a year ago. Keith had assured me that Ponyboy was okay…that he wasn't dead, despite what the girl in my class had told me, but things were still tense.
Everyone had been talking about Ponyboy since he and Johnny Cade had almost killed a rich guy from across town in the park. I didn't get many of the details…no one wanted to give them to me. It wasn't like a bunch of older guys were going to gossip with their buddy's little sister…still, I listened whenever I could. I was scared to ask Darrel or Sodapop directly…I knew Darrel had punched a hole in his wall, and I think I'd heard that he'd hit Ponyboy before he'd taken off, so even though he'd always been nice to me, I was worried about making him mad.
As for Sodapop, I was more scared to make him sad. He didn't usually get violent, but he loved Ponyboy more than anyone else, so I knew he probably didn't like talking about all this. So even when I did happen to tag along with Two-Bit on one of his trips to Darrel and Soda's house, I tried to keep my mouth shut. He'd take me there sometimes for dinner when we didn't have any food in the house, and they were nice enough, but no one ever brought up their brother.
Before, when Ponyboy had been home and I'd been at their house, he and I had talked sometimes about school or the books we were reading. He'd lend me ones he was done with, or I'd ask him about school work. I figured the others teased him about talking to a girl, but he was always nice to me. Out of all of them, he was the closest to my age, only a year older, and we'd always gotten along pretty good. He was a whole two grades ahead of me, though, since he was real smart, but I still saw him around school sometimes. I hated that they'd taken him away from his family. I knew him and Darrel didn't always get along, but they were a family and they loved each other.
"None of your business," Keith answered, but he didn't sound mad, so I took a step into his room, looking around quickly for beer bottles…or whiskey bottles. Once I'd snuck into his room and drank some of his whiskey. It had made my head feel funny, and I'd gone right to bed, sleeping through the night and pretty far into the next day. I'd woken up to him shaking me, asking if I was sick or something, and I'd assured him that I was fine, hoping he wouldn't smell it on my breath. He'd never said anything, but afterwards all of the bottles had seemed to disappear.
It had been gross anyway.
"Are you going to Darry and Soda's house?"
"None of your business," he repeated with a grin, reaching out and messing up my hair. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" I shrugged, rolling my eyes.
"It's summer. I don't have to get up or anything. When's mom getting home?"
"Probably after three." He pointed a mock-serious finger at me. "You'd better be in bed when she gets here."
I just rolled my eyes. "Why? She don't care." I grumbled a little, dropping onto his bed as he grabbed his wallet off his bedside table. His black-handled switchblade was on the bed beside me, and I slipped it under my leg. It was a game we played sometimes…I'd see how long it took for him to realize I'd taken it. He always won.
"She does too. She's just busy," he admonished, stopping to touch my hair again. "You already eat?" I shook my head and he sighed a little, running his hand through his hair.
"We don't have anything." That wasn't strictly true…there were a few cans of vegetables in the pantry, and probably enough bread for toast. But nothing good.
Keith sighed, looking mad for a second. "Alright. I'll get some money from Mom and go tomorrow, okay? Here." He opened the top drawer of his dresser and pulled out a chocolate bar.
"Thanks," I muttered, turning it over in my hands.
"We'll go to the store tomorrow, okay? Hey…" He reached out, putting a finger under my chin and pulling my head up. "She probably just forgot to go shopping."
"She's too busy with Tom," I grumbled, crossing my arms, and he paused, then knelt down, his hand on my leg.
"She brought him around here?"
I wanted to lie, but I knew he'd see through it. I was a crappy liar, at least with him. "Yeah…just once." His eyes turned dark and stormy. "He didn't bug me or nothing," I assured him. Once, one of our mom's boyfriends had backhanded me when I'd told him to get his own beer, and Keith had found me in my room an hour later, still huddled up on my bed.
"The hell…what happened?" he'd demanded, sitting on my bed and grabbing my face carefully. "Who did that?" When I'd told him it was the guy asleep on our couch, he'd stormed into the living room, grabbing the guy by the collar and holding his blade to the guy's throat.
"You ever touch my little sister again, I'll slit your throat open, you get me?" he'd yelled, probably waking up half the neighborhood, then throwing the guy out the door. Then he'd pulled me along as he'd hurried down the street, throwing the Curtis's door open without knocking.
Back then, their mom and dad had been alive, so he'd been quiet, putting me on the couch and waking Darry who'd taken one look at me and then gone with Keith in the kitchen. That man had never come back. I had no idea what they'd done, but I didn't much care, as long as he never bugged us again. The next morning, their parents had made us all breakfast, never asking what we were doing there, and Pony had lent me an Agatha Christie novel.
"Tell me if he does, you hear?" Keith told me, squeezing my shoulder, and I shrugged, still upset with him for snapping at me so much lately.
"Yeah, if you're ever around."
He gave me a look, standing and putting his hands in his pockets. "I'll be back late. If you need anything, Darry should be home, okay? If it's an emergency and you can't reach him, call over at Buck's for Dally. You got the number?"
"Yeah."
He held out a hand, grinning when I continued staring at him, wide-eyed and innocent. "Hand it over, kiddo."
I sighed, rolling my eyes and holding it out. "What if I need it?"
"For what? Opening that candy bar?" He tapped me on the head with the handle. "We'll go to the store tomorrow."
"Promise?" I asked, standing up from his bed. He put his hand on his heart, his other in the air.
"Cross my heart and hope to die."
"Stick a needle in your eye!" I cried, lunging at him and poking at his face. He grabbed me, laughing out loud for the first time in what felt like years. Pulling me up and swinging me around until I was riding on his back, he carried me into my own room, then dropped me on the bed so that I bounced a few times, laughing.
"See you tomorrow, kid," he called as he left my room.
"Okay!" I yelled, laying back on the pillows, then, when I heard the front door slam, I jumped back up, grabbing my nightgown and heading to the shower. I made sure to keep the hall light on and mine too, even though I wasn't scared of the dark. Only babies were scared of the dark…I just…preferred it to be bright in the house. Especially when everyone was gone. Back when I was little and he wasn't drinking, Dad would hide in the dark hallway, jumping out at me and making me scream before he'd carry me around on his shoulders, me giggling and screaming until Mom told us to hush. The thought made my chest tight and I wiped at my eyes, putting my face under the hot spray of the shower.
I turned the light out and all but sprinted to my bedroom, then jumped into bed as soon as I shut off my bedroom light. Once I'd gotten under the blankets, wet hair and all, I closed my eyes, trying to fall asleep as fast as possible. I hated sleeping in an empty house. I was too old to be scared of the dark or anything stupid like that, but I still hated being alone at night. So I tossed and turned for a while, pulling the blankets tight around me, and was almost asleep when the front door opened.
I jumped out of bed once more, opening my bedroom door and grinning into the darkness. "Forget something?" I asked, waiting for my big brother to come sweeping out from the darkness. Maybe he'd decided to stay home with me after all. More likely, he'd forgotten something, money or something for whatever card game they were out playing. Or maybe it was pool they were playing tonight. Either way, maybe he'd stick around for a few minutes and I'd feel better being alone in the house.
Instead, a huge hand landed on my shoulder, another going over my mouth and muffling the scream as whoever it was forced me to turn around. That wasn't Keith. Keith didn't do things like that to me…he never tried to scare me like that. I felt myself held against someone…a man, taller than me and bigger than Keith as we moved back into my bedroom. It wasn't any of his friends…Darry was big like that but he'd never try to scare me or get rough with me. Dallas was bigger too, and sometimes he'd mess with me, scaring me, but never for more than a second, and never rough like this guy. None of them would ever hurt me. No…this wasn't a friend.
"Well who's this?"
I screamed against his hand as another one stepped forward, his face nothing but shadow in the dark hallway. I tried to stab at him with my elbow but his other hand pinched me in a place that made my cheeks get hot and my eyes start to water. "Now now…settle down, sweetheart. We just want to ask you a few questions. If my buddy here moves his hand and you scream, he'll stick that knife in you." The hand not on my mouth moved and something cold tapped my throat. I wished more than anything that I'd been able to keep Keith's knife. I'd stab him in the gut! "You understand there, sweetheart?"
No…I'd stab him in the eye! Then I'd leave him and let Keith and his friends finish him off.
I nodded to his question, clenching my jaw hard so I didn't say something stupid. The hand moved very slowly off of my mouth and I stayed quiet, my breath coming out in shaky almost wheezes as I fought tears I didn't want to cry. Not in front of these assholes. I wanted to be tough and mean like Dallas. Big and scary like Darry. Anything but tiny and weak, a little girl these men could do whatever they wanted with.
"There you go sweetheart. Now, where's your big brother, huh? Where's Keith?"
"He ain't here," I mumbled, hating how hot my eyes were. A tear escaped then, and a sob followed. The hand on my shoulder squeezed, almost friendly, and I jerked away, hating him more than I'd ever hated any of our mom's boyfriends.
"Yeah? Where is he?" he asked, like he was asking about the weather…like he broke into people's houses and threatened kids all the time. Heck, maybe he did.
"I don't know," I told him, fighting the tears back now, so scared I was almost numb. I didn't know...not really. I mean, I knew lots of places where he could be. There were bars around town he liked going to that I could have told them about, or maybe even Buck's. But I knew it might just be Dallas there, and even though Dallas was the toughest guy I knew, I was still scared to send these guys to him. Or I could send him to the Curtis house…but what if he had a gun and hurt Darry?
"Okay…what about Ponyboy Curtis? Where's he?"
I frowned, trying to show real surprise around my tears. "He…he's gone. He disappeared! Everyone says he's dead!" I told him, trying to wriggle away from the man behind me, but he held on, squeezing too tight now.
The guy in front of me came closer.
"Disappeared, huh? So, nobody's talked to him? You haven't talked to him?" The guy holding me squeezed even harder and I whimpered.
"No! He's gone…dead! They said he was dead!"
He touched my neck with the knife again, cold metal against my hot skin, and I froze, but he didn't cut me. Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against my throat.
"Gone, huh. You sure nobody's talked to him?"
"I'm sure. I don't know anything about it! Keith just came home and told me he was dead and he was real upset and so were his brothers but I don't ever talk to them and…"
He cut me off, the hand around my throat tightening. I managed to gasp before the fingers cut off my air. My eyes got so wide I thought they'd pop out of my head, and the man behind me rubbed my arms, too close to my chest. I prayed that Keith would come back then. He'd take one look at these guys and stab them with his switchblade! He wouldn't let them hurt me!
The guy leaned in, his breath smelling like cigarettes as he talked right in my face while I fought to breathe. All I could do was make an awful gasping noise, and my head swam. "You sure you're telling the truth, honey? You sure your brother hasn't heard from that kid? Hm?" I tried to nod but the hand on my throat wouldn't let me. I managed a noise in the back of my throat as I fought for air, my fingers coming up to the hand and scratching, my nails digging in deep. Two hands rubbed over my belly from behind then, and, remembering what Dallas Winston had taught me after school one day, I brought my knee up as hard as I could, slamming it into the guy's crotch. He let me go, backing up with a high pitched groan, and I turned around before the other guy could react, making my hand into a fist just like Dallas had showed me and swung, getting the other one right in the nose, feeling a satisfying 'crunch' when it made contact. It hurt something awful, but it didn't matter, and I didn't care that my throat hurt, or that I was gasping for air.
Before either one of them could recover, I scrambled out of the room, throwing my front door open, then slipping as I jumped off the porch, gasping when my ankle turned a little, but I kept running anyway. My hands shook too hard to work the latch of the gate, and for a second, when I heard our front door open, I thought they were going to get me. I screamed, managing to yank it open and running through it.
I slipped on the wet concrete as I crossed the road, crashing to the ground and scraping my cheek and hands on the asphalt. I barely felt it around the terror that they would grab me again. I was sure that any second, a hand would close around my ankle and drag me back to that house. Crying out, I pushed myself back upright, my bare feet struggling to find purchase on the wet ground. The rain poured down, soaking into my hair and nightgown, and I slipped again, glancing over my shoulder. It was a compulsion…I had to know if they were following.
They weren't…there was no one behind, waiting to grab me. Instead, the two men stood beside their car, one of them climbing inside, the other clutching his nose. I grabbed the gate outside of the Curtis's house, pulling it open and slipping again on the stairs, cracking my cheek against the stairs and crying out again as thunder seemed to shake the whole world. My whole body shook along with it as I clawed at their doorknob with shaking hands. Slamming my fists against the door like a heroine in some stupid dramatic movie, I glanced over my shoulder again. Still by the car. Still watching. That was worse somehow.
"Darry! Darry! Help!" I screamed, almost falling on my face when the door was yanked open. Two huge arms caught me as I fell forward, grabbing me by my upper arms and holding me upright. "Help me…help!" I sobbed, staring up into his wide eyes. "Please…Darry, help!"
Pulling me into the living room and pushing the door shut with his foot, he knelt down a little, trying to get a good look at my face. I felt blood dripping down my cheek and could taste it in my mouth, and I was sure that my jaw was already bruising...my neck too, but I didn't care.
"Susan?" he asked, incredulous. "Hey, Susie…easy," he urged, one hand running up and down my arm. I was shaking, but I didn't know if it was because I was scared or because I was so cold. Tears were pouring down my cheeks, mixing with blood, but I couldn't stop, even if I knew it made me look like a baby. Shaky, sobbing noises escaped from my mouth but I couldn't stop those either. "What happened?"
"Where's Keith?" I almost screamed it, even though I was trying to keep my voice normal. Apparently, I couldn't control anything. I knew my brother wasn't there, but I had to ask anyway.
Darrel kept his voice quiet and gentle. "He ain't here, honey. He's out with Sodapop and Steve." He pushed a strand of wet hair out of my face and I flinched a little. That man had done the same…so nice and gentle stroking my cheek at first…but this was Darrel Curtis. He wouldn't hurt me. "Come on, Susie. Come sit down." He tried to steer me over to the sofa, but all I could see was that big window. I jerked away, not managing to pull away from his grip on my arms, but he stopped pulling on me.
"No! They're still out there!" I screamed it. I didn't know why I was screaming, but I couldn't make my voice normal.
"Who?" he asked, putting a hand on my uninjured cheek. "Who's out there?" he demanded softly.
"They're out there…they'll follow me."
He glanced out the window into the darkness, but there was no way he could see outside. Suddenly there were footsteps in the kitchen and I froze, about to make a break for it, but he caught me, hands rubbing up and down my arms. "Easy, Susie. It's just Tim."
As if on cue, Tim Shepherd poked his head into the living room, lifting his eyebrows when he caught sight of me. He had chocolate on his mouth, and I fought the urge to laugh, sure it would come out sounding shrill and hysterical. Tim wasn't the nicest guy, but I knew he was sort of friends with Keith, so I tried to relax a little, taking a long, shuddering breath. He ran the back of a hand over his mouth, lifting an eyebrow.
"Hey, kid. What's going on?" he asked, obviously taking in the cut on my face. I looked back at Darry who was crouching in front of me.
"They'll get in and…" Darry shook his head.
"Ain't nobody coming in here, kiddo." He gestured to Tim who pulled back his jacket, revealing a pistol tucked into his jeans at his hip. It was weird that the sight of a mean hood with a gun would make me feel better, but I relaxed immediately, doing my best to take a breath that wasn't a sob.
"That's right, kid. I ain't gonna let anyone getcha," Tim assured me, his face softening a little.
"Now what happened?" Darry asked, real gentle as he kept his hands on my shoulders.
"They came into the house," I told him in an almost whisper. "I thought it was Keith…Mom's at work and I thought…they came into my room." Tears were falling down my cheeks and I didn't bother wiping them. He rubbed his hands up and down my arms, and Tim crossed his, leaning against the wall. I couldn't hardly talk for the shaking, and after a second, he reached out, wrapping his arms around me. "They came into my room…" I sobbed into his shoulder and he patted me on the back, standing straight after a second and leading me over to the sofa where he sat beside me, holding me again.
"Who?" He asked quietly, his hand rubbing up and down my back. I was freezing, but he was warm, and a mean hood with a gun was standing guard, so I didn't worry as much about the people outside. Still, I grabbed the back of his shirt as tightly as I could, soaking his shirt and hoping he didn't mind. He didn't seem to, just patting my back as I spoke into his shoulder.
"I don't know…I don't know who they are. They asked me where Keith was…told me they needed to talk to my brother." I didn't want to think about it, but if I told Darrel he could tell Keith and I wouldn't have to say it again. I didn't want Keith to know what a baby I was being.
"You haven't seen them before?" I shook my head against his chest. "Did they say anything else?" He combed his fingers through my hair, easing it out of my face, but not pushing me away.
"They asked me where Ponyboy was." I tried to stop crying, hating how my breath shuddered and how my hands shook. "I told them I didn't know. I told them I thought he was dead…cause he's supposed to be dead, right?"
"Yeah," he murmured, sounding strained. "He is."
"I know he's not, but I told them that he was…I was scared they were after him. They didn't believe me. Asked if I'd talked to him…or if anyone had. I told them no." I reached up, touching my neck. "He put his hands around my throat…said I'd better not be lying. I couldn't breathe." I sniffed, leaving out the other thing they'd done and wiping my eyes.
He pulled away just a bit, touching my throat, and then gestured to the cut on my face.
"They do this to ya?"
"No…I fell trying to get over here."
"How'd you get away?" Tim Shepherd asked, leaning in the doorway of the living room, that gun still showing.
"I kicked one of 'em, and punched the other one in the nose when he tried to grab me." I hoped I'd broken it…heck, I wished once more that I'd had Keith's knife so I could have stabbed him in the eye.
Darry grinned a little, pushing my hair back. I suppose I should have been embarrassed to have the handsome guys seeing me in my wet nightgown, but I didn't care.
"Good job," Tim complimented me as he headed over to the window, peering out into the darkness. After a second, he shook his head. "What kind of car were they driving?"
I shrugged a little, sniffing again and wiping at my eyes, feeling kind of like a baby, but also aware that my throat hurt and my ankle and my knee too, from where I'd fallen, and I was sore all over and still shaking. "I couldn't see…I just ran out as soon as they let go of me. I think it was blue."
"Looks like they're gone," he informed us, closing the curtains, and Darry patted my shoulder.
"Alright, let's get you into some dry clothes, okay honey? You're soaked. I think something of Ponyboy's might fit. Come on," he urged, pulling me up. I let him, wishing I could stop shaking. He didn't seem to mind, just leading me into the bathroom. He really was a good big brother, almost as good as Keith. "Let me get you some clothes, and you can go ahead and jump in the shower. You need to warm up. I'll try to get a hold of your brother. Once you get out, we can take care of this." He gestured to my face. "Your leg too…you hurt anywhere else?"
"I don't think so," I told him, lying a little, but it wasn't like he could do anything about that. He steered me into the bathroom, then disappeared into another bedroom, coming back with a pair of black sweatpants and a gray t-shirt that he left on the sink, closing the door firmly behind him when he left.
I stayed in the shower too long. I could vaguely hear him and Tim talking, and I put my hand in my mouth, sobbing as I leaned against the shower wall. They'd come into my house. They could have…they could have done anything to me. I wanted my brother. I wanted him to stay home when Mom wasn't there so I wouldn't be so scared. I wanted Mom to stop working so many nights and leaving me alone all the time.
I didn't know how long it was, but the water was starting to cool off when someone knocked on the door. "You okay in there, honey?" Darry called, and I swallowed hard, sticking my face under the water and hoping it took care of my red eyes.
"Yeah. I'm getting out!" I called, turning off the water and grabbing a towel to dry off. Pulling the dry clothes on, I wrapped my hair in a towel, peering out of the bathroom before stepping out. Darry was on the sofa, a first aid kit on the table, and I headed over to join him, sitting down and keeping my eyes on my feet. He reached out, touching my chin and it reminded me so much of Keith that my eyes got hot again.
"You feel okay?" I just nodded. "Alright. I called Two-Bit…he's on his way over."
"Is he mad?"
A strange look passed over his face, sadness and regret and something else, but he shook his head, smiling a little. "Nah. He ain't mad…at least, not at you. Just awful worried. Here." He pulled out a cotton ball and soaked it in alcohol. "This is gonna sting," he warned, then pressed it to my cheek.
I flinched, but it wasn't so bad. After he cleaned it and put something on it, he put a Band-Aid on my cheek. Next he pulled the leg of my sweatpants up…no, not mine. Ponyboy's. I thought about asking if Ponyboy was okay, but I remembered the hole in the wall and decided not to chance it.
"You had dinner already?" he asked, holding one of my hands and cleaning it with the alcohol cotton ball. I had barely realized how bad I'd scraped then, falling down on the street so many times.
"Keith gave me a candy bar." He looked up, lifting an eyebrow. I shrugged. "Mom forgot to go to the grocery."
He looked upset about that, but his frown disappeared after a second. "Yeah? We've got some chicken left over. You want a plate?"
"No thanks."
He put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing real gentle.
"Alright, kiddo. Let me know if you change your mind." I nodded. "Two-Bit should be here soon. You want to lay down?" I shook my head, and he grabbed a blanket off the back of the sofa, wrapping it around me, and I curled up against the arm of the sofa, fighting not to close my eyes. "We'll be in the kitchen. Call if you need anything."
I'd sort of forgotten about Tim, but I was glad he was there. Nodding, I pulled the blanket as tight around me as I could and kept an eye on the front door.
