Chapter 2: Dying, Lying, Parents (Darry's Point of View)
Explaining the conversation with Dad to Soda and Pony, is harder than explaining the death of our father. There are so many things I can't answer, so many looks I can't return. I keep telling them, I don't know. And I'm not lying. I honestly and truly don't.
"So…what? I mean, are we going to find him?" Soda asks, his eyes still red from crying. We're home now, and it feels so empty I could cry. Could, but won't. I shake my head, then nod my head, then shrug my shoulders.
"I don't know. I mean yes. We'll find him." I tell him. I'm not sure why I sound so sure of myself. I have a name, and I have a city. But not much else. Even if I, we, do find him, then what? He's twelve, not five. I'm sure he'll already have parents, and a home, and a life. It would less painful for him to never know about us, than to be dragged into our world of lying, dying parents. But I'll drag him into it anyways. Because he's my brother. Our brother. And already I feel responsible for him.
"What's his name?" Pony asks. "How old is he?" Pony looks like he might fall asleep at any moment, but I don't bother him. For some reason I feel safer with the three of us sitting together on the couch in the living room with every light in the house on. I'm not sure hwy.
"Skywriter." I answer. "He's twelve." Skywriter. Like a plane that carves letters out of smoke in the sky. I'm not sure why I even think of that, but move on quickly, thinking about what this kid might be like. What kind of home he was from. A soc maybe?
"Where does he live?" Soda asks, his dirty blond hair falling over his eyes. He subconsciously pushes it away.
"In Broken Arrow." I answer. How ironic the name seems at this time.
"Broken Arrow? Darry, that's an hour away tops!" Pony states. I nod my head. It's true. It scared me and excited me at the same time. We sat, at this very moment, an hour away from a kid that was our brother. I remember back to the time that Mom had stated she was going to visit her sick aunt. She stayed gone for about six months, leaving me with the conclusion that she was three months pregnant when she ran. I still don't understand why she ran. It just doesn't make sense.
"Guys it's late." I state. It's two in the morning, and I feel a lot more tired than I look. I hope I don't look that tired at least. Pony and Soda nod, and head off to bed. I remain on the couch for a moment, staring at my hands. Skywriter. What a name.