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Chapter 4

(Late Afternoon)

Darry

"Do you know where your brother would go, Sir?" The young officer looked up from his notebook and raised his eyebrows expectantly. I wanted to knock the cap off his head, rip the pen from his hand and throw it against the wall. "Is there anyone you can think of- a friend maybe-that he might go to?"

"No. No, for the tenth time, I don't know where he's at. That's why I called you guys. Everyone he would go to is in this fucking room or in God-damn Vietnam." My jaw hurt from clenching it and I glanced at the little clock on the mantle. They'd been here too long. Wasted too much time. They should be out looking for him. We should be out looking for him. I hadn't waited to call the police. Not this time. I was willing to wager the possibility of the state taking Pony if it meant keeping him safe. Keeping him alive.

No, I didn't know where Pony was. Sometimes I'd catch him watching the stars or staring off down the street toward the lot or towards Johnny's. Whenever we passed the drive-in, I'd see him turn in his seat and watch as we went by. But he never actually went there anymore. He never went to any of those places. He never went anywhere. If he wasn't at school, he was home with me.

It took everything I had not to bust the guy's jaw, not to shove past him and drive the damned streets myself, which was exactly what I planned to do when he stopped implying that my brother was running away or simply gone to a friend's to cool off. Pony had obviously been planning this for a long time, and besides, I'd already checked his room. The bathroom. Everywhere in the house. The only things missing were that old burned up coat of Dally's that he'd taken to wearing, and his shoes.

Not ten minutes before I'd been ready to call Steve and Two-Bit when they had come busting in on their own. Now they were sitting pale and shaky on the couch, both clutching ripped envelopes and crumpled papers. Steve had already puffed through two cigarettes and was working on his third. I'd known Pony hadn't gone to them even before they'd rushed in the door, wide-eyed and probably frightened at finding the fuzz on our doorstep, but until that point, I'd still held out a bit of hope that he had.

"He left every one of us a letter!" I was waving my letter in the cop's face when the two of them slammed through the door. I pointed to the paper for good measure. "Look at this. Look at it. He's not…he's…"

"What's going on Darry?" Two-Bit glanced down to the paper in my hand then between me and the cop.

"Pony's missing. He…he left…this…" I handed the paper to Two-Bit and tried desperately to control my voice as I watched Steve read over Two-Bit's shoulder, "I need to call Shepard. Get him out there looking. He'll find him. He'll…My God, he could have left hours ago…"

"I've got it, Darry." Steve slipped past me and picked up the phone. He punched the number and had the phone to his ear when I saw him freeze, then lean his head into the kitchen and look closer at the table.

"Shit." The word came out in a rushed breath of air.

Steve had found his own letter.

"Mr. Curtis…" Another of the officers stepped forward as Steve started speaking urgently into the phone, "Mr. Curtis, we need you to…"

xxx

"We've got to go." I was already crossing the room, keys in hand, before the door had finished closing behind the last of the cops. Their voices and footsteps carried as they left the wooden porch, and I could hear one of them laugh, their professional concern dropped as soon as they were out of our sight.

"Darry." Two-Bit stood suddenly and met me in front of the door. "They said for you to stay here. What if he comes home? Or they call?" What if they find his body and need to tell you? Two-Bit didn't say it out loud, but I could see the unspoken fear in his eyes. "What if Tim calls, what if—"

The phone screamed out shrilly and I rushed to it. I could only hope that it was Tim, calling to say that they'd found him. That he had my kid brother in his hands, and even though Pony was already hurting, I'd even be okay with Tim reading him the riot act just as long as I knew he was safe.

I could feel the phone vibrate against me when I held it to my ear so I did my best to get my hand to stop shaking. Please be Pony. Please be Tim. Please be Pony…

"Hello?" Please be Pony…Please be Tim…Please be…But, God help me, it was… "Soda?"

xxx

Pony

(Afternoon)

The water was dark and murky, except for where it swirled around the legs of the bridge. There, it rose and churned in little white tumbling waves before rushing off and down towards the docks. The bridge was old and rickety with split wooden supports and rough cracked beams that crossed high above the Arkansas River. The old train bridge had no guardrails. No solid platform to stand on. Just spaced out railroad ties and rusted iron rails that ran from the east side to the west.

It hadn't been used in years, not by trains at least. Just by boys who, if they were daring enough, might climb halfway down and jump near the end…near the bend in the river where the water was a bit more calm. Never in the middle, and never higher than halfway.

Curly Shepard had dared me to jump from it once, from where the support beams started to cross underneath and formed little Y's that you could climb on and jump from, but Dally had heard about it somehow-probably from Tim- and had showed up before I could even figure out how to get onto the beams. He'd called me a stupid kid, grabbed me by the elbow, and hauled me all the way home. Darry had been mad when he'd told him. Real mad. Mad enough to ground me for a week when I hadn't even done anything.

"He's just scared, Pone." Sodapop had said later that night. "Kids have been hurt jumping from there. They've died. He's worried about you. I'm worried about you."

His words echoed the same thing Dally had told me earlier in the day. "You got a death wish Pony? You hit that water wrong and that's what you're gonna get…jumping from that bridge will get you killed."

"You've done it," I argued with Soda stubbornly. Curly had told me that.

"Yeah," Sodapop laughed sheepishly, "but I'm dumb. You ain't."

I wondered what Sodapop would think of me now. I hoped he'd gotten my letter. Or would before Darry was able to reach him.

My heart thumped wildly against my chest as I leaned over the edge, watching the water swell and turn below. They'd been worried about me jumping from halfway down the support beams, and down at the end near the land where the water was deep, but calm. Where I sat was at least twice that height, at a spot where the water rolled and raged below before running like mad down the river. I watched as a branch that had been broken off somewhere upriver bobbed then dunked under the water. It rolled with the current, breaking and snapping and splitting before being pushed along.

It seemed fitting. Most of my problems began with water. It had been raining the night my parents died…a cold, hard, unforgiving and slick rain. A bubbling fountain with Johnny. And now my problems would end with water. And there was little to no chance that Darry would be the one to find me. It was better that way. It'd hurt him less.

How many times had I started to go to him? To say something? But I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I'd chosen to go through it alone. That was my choice. My fault.

My only regret was for my brothers. Darry would have to go through the fuzz coming to the door and telling him that they'd found me-my body. Sodapop was in Vietnam and wouldn't be able to come home to see me buried. That'd be real hard on him…on them. But I knew that they'd be okay eventually. They were stronger than me.

I slicked back my hair. Not that it would matter much after this, but I'd made sure it looked real tuff before I'd left the house. Put on a pair of jeans and shirt without any rips or stains. I checked to make sure my wallet was secured in my pocket. Easier to find and contact the family. Hopefully, everything in it would still be readable when they pulled me out. Then I bent and tied my shoes together. No kicking, no backing out.

I toed the edge of the beam. I didn't know why things had to happen like they did, why we couldn't get a break. But, like that branch, my soul had already rumbled with life. It was tattered. Split. Broken. Sinking. Already lost to the water. I looked at the sky, felt the warm sun on my face. It figured that the one day I'd remembered to take my jacket would be a day I didn't need it. I'd never need it again. But maybe, maybe, it would be like having Dally with me. I wouldn't have to pretend anymore. I wouldn't have to remember what it felt like to be normal, happy. I wouldn't have to wonder what it would be like to keep living my life like a zombie, to keep living a lie.

I can't explain it, but suddenly I was thinking of Canyon Lake. Canyon Lake was nothing like the Arkansas River. It was deep and clear and calm, with long grassy shores where you could fish or duck hunt or go swimming with your dad and brothers in the summer. There was this old oak tree that would lean out over the water, and one time, Soda, Darry, and I had climbed it. Darry and Soda jumped first, smiling and howling with laughter when they'd hit the water. Dad and Mom sat laughing and eating the food Mom had packed on the shore. I'd never felt so giddy, so free, as when I leaped off that tree's branch and into the cold water below. I can still hear Soda and Darry laughing with me.

The train bridge wasn't anything like that old tree. Not like the tall tree so full of life with its twisting branches and green leaves. No, the bridge was old, brown, decaying. Lifeless. Like me.

I inched my feet closer to the edge of the beam…and jumped.

Freedom.

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