So, how'd you like it? Personally I thought it was pretty good, but hey, I'm the one writing this thing! Thank you to all of you read, reviewed, and wanted to keep reading this story! I really appreciate it!
I DON'T OWN THE OUTSIDERS!!!!!! I would love to, but I can't. Sorry!
Chapter 2: Walls Crumble (Pony POV)
I stood there in shock. Oh no, not my brothers too! My mind sobbed. Truthfully tears were beginning to sting my eyes. Any moment, I could feel myself lose it.
"From all of the information we have," the second officer began. The first, like me, probably lost the ability to speak. "A truck's brakes blew out, and since the road was downhill, the vehicle was gaining speed. Your brothers, Darrel and Sodapop, were in their truck, crossing the intersection. Neither of them noticed the truck coming for them until it was too late and the truck t-boned them. We're very sorry."
Oh my God, if they have to apologize to me, then there is something very wrong.
"Was the impact on the driver's side or the passenger's?" I nearly jumped when Two-Bit spoke behind me, his voice completely lacking and joy or humor.
"The driver's," the first officer said for the first time. Oh God, Darry! I thought. Darry never let anyone drive his truck if he was in it. Tears began to cascade down my face.
"Are they …dead?" I choked out.
"The last we heard, they were being taken to Tulsa General. As far as we know, no they aren't dead." The first officer replied.
"Hey Bob, Richard, we can handle it from here. Have a nice night, fellas." Dally came up behind me, grabbed my shoulders, and pushed me away from the door.
"Sure thing, Dallas Winston. Stay on the straight and narrow from now on, ok?" One of the officers said.
"No promises. Good night," and with that, he unceremoniously shut the door.
The room went deathly quiet. A dark veil had covered my eyes. I felt like a block of ice, unable to move or breathe. All I could think about was my brothers. They were hurt, badly. My world began to spin…
Suddenly, I felt myself shaking. For a minute, I thought I had let down my guards and began to sob. That wasn't until I opened my eyes to see Dally shaking my shoulders and gently slapping my face.
"Hey, Pony! Snap out of it!" Dally was yelling in my face. My eyes focused again, and I took a look around the room. Johnny was silent, his dark eyes staring up at me in horror. Two-Bit and Steve were leaning against the wall, their faces bone-white and their knees knocking slightly. Dally had a hard gaze on his face, his eyes boring into mine to harness my attention. Even though my eyes were everywhere, my mind was in one place, well in two places. My brothers needed me.
"Someone…get to a car…and if it's not running in five minutes…I'm sprinting the six blocks to the hospital myself," I hissed quietly. Like a finger snap, I was into action. I flew to my room after ridding my schoolbag of books. I grabbed some fresh shirts and underwear for myself and Soda if he needed them. I then ran to Darry's room, getting the same things. My last stop was the bathroom, grabbing toothbrushes, some toothpaste, shampoo, and hair grease. I then dug into the box Darry kept in his closet labeled: In Case of Emergency. It had some legal-looking papers, some phone numbers, a sheet that looked a little like a bank statement, and Darry's health insurance card he got through his work. Undecided on what I should bring, I put the lid back on and slid the thing into my backpack. I ran through the house, turning off lights and running the thermostat low to save some money. I double-checked the stove, and with a last look, locked the front door. For once I use my head. I thought, jumping all four steps of the porch and running to Two-Bit's car. The other guys had already piled into the car when I climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut.
The ride was utterly silent. It seemed that everyone in the car had hate and fear for where we were going. Everyone had a reason for despising hospitals. Steve had to go after the rumble last year to get a couple of ribs fixed, Two-Bit had an uncle who had a heart-attack once, and as for Johnny and Dal, well everyone already knows that story.
At one point in the ride, I had to sit on my hands from becoming too jittery. Two-Bit glanced over to me and had asked me if I was alright. I told him something along the lines of "For God's Sake, keep your eyes on the road!" I had apologized for it afterwards. Two-Bit shook it off with a reassuring smile.
When we pulled into the parking lot of the Emergency Room, I jumped out of the car and ran like the devil was after me. There were people everywhere. Nurses in white were walking here and there, and almost every seat in the waiting area was filled with a person moaning, wincing, or physically getting sick.
I noticed the rest of the gang come up behind me as I found an available nurse at the front desk.
"Ma'am, could you please tell me where Darrel and Sodapop Curtis are?" She took a look at me, and then bent her head over her records.
"They're both in surgery. Fourth Floor. Take the hallway all the way down, turn left, and take the elevator up. Are you all family?" She raised her eyebrow, a look that could have given Two-Bit a run for his money, at us all.
"Yes," I said firmly, looking her straight in the eye, almost begging her to challenge me. She stared me down, then nodded her head and pointed our way down the hall.
"Thank you ma'am," I rushed, wanting to at least leave her with a memory of being somewhat polite. I walked as quickly as possible down the hallway, vaguely aware of the other guys behind me. After Steve pushed Johnny into the elevator, Dally hit the button for the fourth floor. I thrummed my fingers against the wall as the elevator rose slowly. It was agony.
The doors swung open, and we all filed out as fast as we could. Once again, I had to deal with the nurse at the reception desk of the surgery wing.
"Hello, can you tell me the conditions of Darrel and Sodapop Curtis?" I asked, surprised that I was keeping such a level head.
She shuffled some papers around. "I have not been informed about their conditions so far. I would imagine that the surgeons, Drs. Warren and Embers, will come out and speak to you. Are you immediate family?"
"Yes, I'm their brother."
"Alright then," she gave me a warm smile, "I suggest you and your friends take a seat in the waiting area." She pointed to a corner in the room and then returned to her work.
****
And so we waited, and waited, and waited. No one moved except to use the bathroom or to take a smoke. I must have gone through five cigarettes in the first hour of waiting. At one point I vaguely remember looking at the clock on the wall, seeing the time reach 2:00 a.m. With each passing tick, my imagination grew so wild that I wished I could douse my brain in bleach. Steve and Johnny both nodded off, looking very uncomfortable in their various sleeping positions. Dallas decided to stand against a wall in order to keep himself alert, while Two-Bit would chase the occasional orderly passerby, all of them of the female persuasion.
When the clock struck 3:15, a young woman in blue scrubs walked out of one set of double-doors leading to the operating rooms. Any hair that was not up in her cap was light brown. It matched the color of her eyes perfectly. She looked forlorn, as if she had been doing surgeries all day.
"Family of Sodapop Curtis," she spoke, her voice tired. I launched from my seat and was standing next to her in the same amount of time it takes for an eye to blink. "My name is Doctor Embers. I was Sodapop's leading surgeon. He pulled through fine, and in a couple of weeks he should be ready to release."
At that moment, I felt so happy that I could have bawled. My mind went fuzzy. Sodapop's alright! He's okay! I thought.
"His injuries weren't very extensive, but multiple," Dr. Embers continued, frowning at me for not asking about my brother. "He suffered a minor concussion on impact, two broken ribs that we had to straighten out, and a bruised spleen. There was minor internal bleeding, but that was repaired when we patched the spleen up. He also dislocated his right shoulder, and suffered some bruising and superficial lacerations with the broken glass. The quantity of the damage is high, yes, but the damage itself was not major."
I think I paled a little at her words. A lot did go wrong, but I trusted the doctor to know that it wasn't as bad as it sounded.
As she patted my shoulder and turned away, I called her back. There was still one person not accounted for.
"Ma'am, do you happen to know anything about my other brother, Darrel? He's got short, dark hair and a strong build." I described. I had to know what happened to Darry.
"He's kinda tan? Handsome looking?" She verified. I nodded, smiling a little at how the pretty doctor called my brother "handsome". Her eyes became darker. "He came in with Sodapop. Truthfully, he looked very rough. Don't worry, though. He has Doctor Warren, and he's the best surgeon in the hospital. He's in good hands." Doctor Embers tried to give me hope, then turned and walked back through the double doors.
I know I paled when she said that. Tough Darry, the rock of the Curtis family, my big brother, was bad off. Just as the gang had said that we couldn't get along without Johnnycakes, Soda and I couldn't survive without Darry. Darry was like God, he took control over everything and he always knew what to do. We would be lost without him, two sheep without a shepherd. My world was crumbling.
Dally, who was around tonight more than usual, guided me back to my chair and sat me down. By this time, Steve and Johnny had woken up and Two-Bit had filled them in on what the surgeon said. Everyone had their eyes on me, but I didn't take enough time to notice. All I could think about was my brother.
****
The sun had risen in the sky about two hours before the doctor came out of surgery, Friday morning. His weary eyes were literally drooping behind his spectacles and it looked like his salt-and-pepper hair was becoming lighter by the second. Through my sleepless stupor I saw him bend over the nurses' desk and ask for the relation of Darrel Curtis. It took me a moment to recognize that he was talking about me. I stood up as the nurse pointed a hand in my direction. The doctor crossed the room slowly.
"I'm Doctor Warren. I take it you're Ponyboy?" The man asked. His voice crackled, whether with age, emotion, or fatigue I did not know. I nodded my head in response.
"How's my brother?" My voice was equally as rough. I watched as the corner of his eyes drooped as he rubbed his face.
"Not good son. As you may or may not have heard, the impact was directed on his side of the vehicle. His left upper arm was shattered. We had to put several pins and screws in place. Six ribs were damaged, one puncturing his lung while the other ruptured his spleen. We patched the lung up to the best of our ability, but the spleen was removed. His leg broke in two places, but the breaks were clean so they were splinted easily." Doctor Warren looked like he wanted to say more, but he stopped to give the news some time to sink in.
When he mistook my dumbstruck silence with understanding, he continued. "The worst of it, however, was that he suffered a major concussion as well as shock. That, along with the anesthetic, had put him into a coma-like state. The time of his awakening, if he does awaken, can't be determined with any kind of accuracy."
"So you're telling me," I choked, "that Darry might live and be fine, or he might die?"
"Yes," Doctor Warren replied slowly. "Do you need anything, kid?" He asked me kindly.
I shook my head. I figured that sooner or later I would have to get a school excuse, but that didn't really matter.
"Where are your folks?" the doctor asked innocently. An icy dagger punctured my soul, and then twisted around, causing the most amount of pain.
"Dead…car accident…two years ago," I managed. The doctor looked aghast, gaping at me. At a complete loss of what to say, he rested a hand on my shoulder and walked off.
You know how they said that greasers don't cry? Well with the fatigue, mental exhaustion, and emotional turmoil I had endured for the last twelve hours, my restraint was completely shot. Tears fell hot and fast down my face as unavoidable sobs racked my chest. The harder I tried to hold it in, the worse it got. A pair of arms embraced me around the front, and I sobbed into the unknown shoulder. Various sets of hands grabbed my shoulders, rubbed my back, and grabbed my hand as I continued to lose it. Despite the four people surrounding me, I felt entirely alone.
Completely, utterly, alone.
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P.S. - Translation is on the next chapter, and I will reward the first reviewer to get this language correct with a virtual crustula and a mention in my next chapter!