Last chapter.
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SE Hinton owns.
*
"Thanks for the ride, Two-Bit."
Checking his blind spot, Two-Bit pulls away from the curb, leaving the library behind them. "Sure thing, kid. Although, I really ain't aimin to be your personal chauffeur. Unless you reward me handsomely with tips."
"I have a tip for you, Two-Bit. Trim the sideburns."
"I swear you are gettin mouthier by the day." Two-Bit fiddles with the radio while Pony stares out the window into the gray skies of Tulsa. Two-Bit takes in Ponyboy's happier and healthier appearance and Two-Bit has to admit he was mighty worried a month or so.
"Say kid, you thinkin of sticking around here for a while?"
"Seems that way…"
"Keep working at the library?"
"Maybe…"
"Hmmm…a maybe. I like the indecisiveness of that." Two-Bit drums his hands on the steering wheel, stealing a questioning glance at his friend. "So…if not the library…?"
Laughing, Ponyboy waves off Two-Bit's prodding questions. "What's with the inquisition? Taking lessons from Darry?"
"Shoot," Two-Bit says, "If anything, I teach Darry lessons."
"Like not to let you in the house?"
Grinning, Two-Bit clears his throat. "Well for what it's worth…I'm glad you're back. It was getting boring without you around."
Pony smiles, resting his head against the passenger side window. "Thanks, man."
*
Ponyboy finds the community college application.
Needing some clean socks to run in, he rummages through Darry's drawer, pulling out a stack. Dumping the mountain of socks on the bed, the application, sandwiched between the pile, flutters out and hits the floor. Pony bends down to get the fallen paper, his oblivious eyes scanning the form. Finally realizing what he's reading, his name printed in bold letters at the top, a familiar fear hits him.
Pony licks his lips and carefully buries the application back in Darry's dresser. Gingerly, he shuts the dresser door and goes to the kitchen to make dinner.
*
The rice is burned and he doesn't even know how he did it. He drops the spoon, flecks of rice flying everywhere. Groaning, Ponyboy gives up and backs against the counter. The last month has been harder than anything he's ever done and finally, just finally, he felt he was catching up to himself.
He's read a book, goddamnit. A whole, horrible, practical book that he knows Darry just loved back in high school.
But the sight of the college application has felled him, called into question everything he's built back up. Pony's mind whirls, going back to OSU, the beer, Sarah, the lies. It's at this time he feels the panic attack coming on quick. Clenching his eyes tight, Pony grips the counter. He won't do this, he tells himself. Give me this much.
And surprisingly, after two agonizing minutes of fighting, it goes away. Pony lets a breath out. The calmness is comforting if not predicted.
*
The letter comes on a gray, snowy day. The kind of day meant for staying in. Pony grabs the mail in one swift motion, slamming the mailbox shut. He tosses the stack of bills on the table and doesn't touch it until Darry comes home and tells him that he has a letter.
Still he forgets about it until dinner's over and then as an afterthought picks it up on the way to his bedroom. Ponyboy reads it and even though he and Curly were never close, never what he'd call 'friends', it still leaves Ponyboy shaken. He goes outside to think, ignoring his jacket.
The letter's long this time, full of run-on sentences betraying Curly's nerves. He got shot; not the million-dollar wound or anything close, but close enough for Curly to get a perspective. Life's short, Curly writes. You would have thought I would have known that by now, huh Curtis?
Pony looks back at the house, frozen in the snow and he wonders what he's waiting for. He's tried to quit for the longest time and so far he's still going. It's not strong but it's a beat.
It's at this time Ponyboy manages to grab some perspective.
*
He did it. He feels out of place and way too young to be here but he made it to campus. School's been in session for two weeks and it's eerie being on a college campus again. Letting out a breath like he's just been socked in the stomach, Pony folds a University of Oklahoma application up into a small square and shoves it in his back pocket.
Ponyboy quickly walks away from the admissions office and down into the hall littered with students.
*
The man with the swagger spots the kid from the track. The boy's passing by the library, glancing at the books. His wrist is not bandaged anymore and there's a small smile on his face. The man walks up to him.
"Hey son."
Ponyboy blinks and lets out a chuckle. He hasn't seen the man from the track for nearly two weeks. "Glory. What're you doing here?"
"I teach History 101." The man grins, his bushy beard moving in sync with his smile. "And I'm the track coach. Bob Harris."
Ponyboy shakes his hand, looking perplexed. "Ponyboy Curtis."
"I heard about you," Bob says.
"You and everyone else," Pony says with a grimace, thinking of the news articles about him, Dallas and Johnny.
"About your running that is," Bob clarifies. "You won finals at Will Rogers."
"What were you doing at the track? Hang around there for kicks?"
"When school's on break I make it my business to get in some quality time with the high school kids. Sniff out talent. Don't tell anyone but I'm a spy." Pony snorts and Harris eyes him. "Only you weren't in high school."
"No," Pony replies. "I'm not."
"I got that feeling. Burnt out, something like that."
"Yeah, something like that."
"Well, I hope that something's worth it."
"I don't know anymore," Pony admits, shaking his head.
"Who really does? Anyone who claims that is bullshitting you." Bob says with a hearty laugh. "You'll figure it out. And when you do, come find me."
Bob leaves Ponyboy thinking that perspective ain't what it's all cracked up to be.
*
Immediately after leaving campus, Ponyboy goes home, changes and hits the road.
Pony trades the track for running on the side of the road, needing to feel as if he's going somewhere instead of around in circles. It works and soon he's feeling calmer and clearer in the head. He's been so used to being down Ponyboy hasn't realized his bounce back to reality.
Footsteps echo around him as he plods the sparse road, kicking up slush and mud from the most recent snow. It's later than he usually runs and the chilly night air swirls up to remind him of this. When he sees the Tulsa City Limits sign, Pony knows it's time to turn back.
An hour later, he's nearly halfway home, thinking hard about the scars on his arms and his next move, when the car comes out of nowhere. The driver, unaware of the runner on the road, lets his car veer a little too much onto the shoulder of the road.
The car almost clips Ponyboy but before it does he manages to jump into the ditch on the side of the road. He's tossed head over heels down the steep slope, mixing with the snow and the mud. It's only when a tree cushions his fall does he stop.
Ponyboy groans, twisting away from the tree trunk, which has so nicely left its mark on his hip. There's mud and snow in his mouth and his eyes and his body's soaked to the bone.
A faint rustling sounds somewhere above him and suddenly a cop sticks his face in Ponyboy's line of vision. "You okay kid? Hell, I didn't even see you running on the side—"
"You're fuzz?" Ponyboy asks with a laugh, spitting snow from his mouth. The cop looks confused and Ponyboy can't wait to tell Two-Bit that the good ol' Tulsa Police are at it again; taking out greasers left and right.
"Can you walk?"
"Yeah, yeah, I can walk." Ponyboy sits up, pulling a clump of mud out of his hair. He looks up at the sky and breathes out.
Now annoyed, the cop props his hands on his hips. "Well, what're you waiting for? C'mon kid, are you going to get off your ass and get up?" Ponyboy starts at the words and then eschewing the cop's hand, he stands on his own.
*
When Darry gets home from Alice's house he doesn't know what to think. Muddy footsteps lead from the front door to downstairs. "Sodapop?" he calls out, ready to accuse the one person capable of making such an unholy mess.
*
Downstairs, Ponyboy sits amid ripped open boxes of leftover college stuff: a notebook from English 101, a binder from Astronomy class, old homework assignments, a few photos with his old roommate.
Items forcing him to remember.
Although reviewing his past isn't getting him in the mood for school back in Tulsa it sure is jogging the worst of his memory. And now that he has everything strewn across the floor, Ponyboy isn't so sure remembering was such a bright idea.
"Damn," he says, staring at the scribbled notebooks.
"What are you doing, Ponyboy?" a voice asks behind him. Ponyboy turns to see Darry. Taking a closer look, Darry amends his statement: "What the hell happened to you?" His brother sits in a puddle of snow and mud, hair sticking up in every direction and looking like he took a pretty good beating.
"I went running."
"And what? Did you fall down a storm drain?"
"A ditch, but that's pretty close."
Darry watches him and then asks in a low voice, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"I think I know what I want to do, Dar." Ponyboy speaks slowly, like he's measuring each word carefully.
Darry, not sure what he wants to hear, asks, "What's that, kiddo?"
"I want to try again with school, with running…but it's hard. I keep thinking about this," he gestures at the menagerie of school stuff, "and this," he shoves up a sleeve, showing his scar. Darry tries not to wince.
Pony glances at Darry under his mess of hair. "I went to the University of Oklahoma today." Surprised, Darry blinks and Pony continues. "I talked to someone in admissions. I don't know though. I'm worried I might chicken out."
"It's okay if you do."
"Yeah, I know."
"You don't have to go back."
"I know."
"What changed your mind?"
"Perspective maybe? I don't know." Pony sighs, looking over the confusion on the floor. "Don't you wish you could go back in time? Or even erase stuff?"
Darry takes a seat on the last step. "You know I do, kiddo. More than anyone." Pony gives him a small, understanding smile and Darry racks his brain hard about what to do. Pony's come far and he's nearly there. Darry can't put into words how proud – how thankful – he is that Pony's even thinking about school again.
Flipping through an old notebook, Ponyboy utters a laugh. "Oh man, my writing was terrible…let's just erase that." He throws the notebook back into the pile and grabs another for review.
Darry smears his face in his hands and an irrational idea hits him. "Pony," Darry begins. "Do you still have that lighter on you?"
Pony frowns and then pats his pockets. "Yeah, you want it?"
"Yeah."
Ponyboy tosses it and Darry catches it in one firm grip.
*
"Toss 'em in."
"Are you sure, Dar?"
"Do it, Pony. Whatever you want."
"Not the books."
Darry laughs. "Of course."
Ponyboy, his arms full of notebooks and papers and pencils and pens from the boxes, dumps the contents in the tin trashcan sitting in the middle of the backyard lawn. He watches Darry pour the lighter fluid on the stack like water from a hose. When he's done he throws the canister in the snow.
Darry doesn't know if his harebrained idea will help but he's doing his best to fix what he can. Darry flicks the lighter open and holds it out to his brother. "Go ahead, kiddo."
Pony's eyes are alive, the green lit up by the flame so bright that Darry wonders how he ever thought they were gray. Ponyboy grins at Darry and takes the lighter. "I can't believe we're doing this," he murmurs before sending the lighter into trashcan with a flourish. It lands in the pile and the fire explodes, shooting up into the air and lighting up the backyard like it's the fourth of July.
*
Steve and Soda, having pulled into the driveway, stare at the enormous fireball that has just erupted from the backyard of the Curtis house. Soda gawks, pressing a hand against the image of the flame projected on the windshield.
Steve frowns. "Hate to tell you this buddy but I think your house is on fire."
"Holy shit!"
Soda scrambles out of the truck, Steve following. When they reach the backyard, Ponyboy and Darry are watching the leaping fire with wide eyes. As the shadows and flames dance off of his brothers, Soda sees that Ponyboy's covered in mud, his face marked up like a greased football players'. Darry looks as loose as Soda's ever seen him. The now-empty boxes from Pony's dorm room litter the ground.
"I think they forgot the marshmallows," Steve tells Soda as they dart over to them. Soda grabs Pony's arm.
"Are you nuts? What're you doing, Darry?"
"I really don't know, Soda," Darry says with a laugh. "Burning stuff?" Ponyboy laughs too, covering his mouth as he watches the flames. And Soda really sees his brother then.
The kid he was and the kid he will be: whole.
*
Sarah calls the house a week later to check on Ponyboy. Earlier in the week, he described the backyard bonfire with such giddy appreciation that Sarah marvels it was as easy as that. Whatever Darry did worked.
Sarah lets the phone ring about ten times and is ready to hang up when there's a fast, "Hello?"
She's quiet and then ventures a guess. "Darry? This is Sarah Morrow."
"Pony's not here," Darry says curtly. "He went out for the afternoon. I'll tell him you called."
"Darry, wait," Sarah says before he can hang up. "You know you done a real good thing." And even though Sarah's never met him, she can feel Darry Curtis smile over the phone.
*
"Where's your brother?" Darry asks Soda as Alice slips inside, arms full of groceries.
"At the track I think," Soda responds, engrossed in the poker game Steve and Two-Bit have going on.
An hour passes, the house brimming with chaos. Alice and Two-Bit are bickering about the best way to make an apple pie while Soda and Steve keep running back and forth from the garage to the living room, ignoring Darry's repetitive question of: "What'd you break?"
When Ponyboy gets home from the track, he's dizzy from running. "Go change," Darry says. "Dinner's almost ready." Pausing, Darry turns, eyeing him surreptitiously. "You look happy."
Darry stuffs his hands in his pockets and Ponyboy knows he's worrying. "That's a good thing, Dar. Stop looking nervous."
"That's a great thing, kiddo."
Pony goes to change, tossing on a t-shirt. The scars aren't gone, faded slightly to a thin line but he pays them no heed. He grabs up a pair of ragged jeans from the floor, slipping them on. They're the pair he wore when he went to the University of Oklahoma and remembering the application, Ponyboy pulls it out from his back pocket. He unfolds it, smoothing out the creases. He grabs something from his desk and leaves the room.
"I love it when Alice comes over," Two-Bit is whispering loudly when Ponyboy rejoins his family. "She cooks for all of us." Smells of chicken and mashed potatoes drift around the house.
"I heard that!" Alice calls out, a laugh in her throat. Darry smacks Two-Bit on the side of the head.
"Shit, man!" Two-Bit screeches. "That's abuse."
"Yeah, you need it!" Steve hollers from the living room.
"Alice's going to poison your food, Two-Bit," Ponyboy says, sitting down at the kitchen table.
Alice winks at him. "Thanks for the idea, Ponyboy."
"Ah, the kid's just full of bright ideas," Two-Bit says, ruffling Pony's hair with exaggerated force. "This one time a band of ninjas—"
"Get out of here, Two-Bit," Darry says with an annoyed laugh. He hands a spatula to Alice who promptly points it at Two-Bit.
"You are thus banned from this kitchen."
Two-Bit shrugs. "Fine. I know when I'm not wanted. I'll go play with Steve and Sodapop." Two-Bit leaves, thundering into the living room and then pops back in the kitchen. "I still get to eat right?"
Ducking his head to hide a smile, Ponyboy sets the application and the pen Sarah has given him on the tabletop. He writes his first and last name down, the pen gliding smoothly across the paper. This time he's able to write. He finishes the whole application and when he's done examines it curiously.
"Are you sure?" Darry asks, coming over once he spies the application and his brother huddled at the table.
"I think so," Ponyboy says, capping the pen. He thinks of Bob Harris's offer, the scholarships he'll have to apply for, living with Darry and Soda again and really wants to do it all. He wants to try. He wants to get back.
"I'm real glad, kiddo." Darry reaches out to squeeze his brother's arm and then goes back to Alice, grinning like a proud fool. Soda bounds over to Darry and by the way Soda keeps throwing Ponyboy small smiles he knows Darry has told Soda about the completed application.
Ponyboy surveys the people in his house and sits back in the chair. There was a time when he would have wished for his parents; their help, their advice, their comfort. But everyone here has done it all. The house just feels good; warm and alive.
Ponyboy starts to think he can do this.
In fact, he knows he can.
*
The end! Finally!
Thanks to everyone for reading and putting up with the long wait between updates. I enjoyed writing this and really appreciate everyone's feedback and taking the time to read.
Special thanks to Calla who let me bounce ideas off of her and just spurred me on when I was stuck. You rock.
Thanks again. Pardon typos.
*