If you didn't know, my story, Running In The Dark was nominated (among other fellow writer's stories) for The Wrong Side of the Tracks Awards. I'm up against Epiphany for best AU/Sci-fi.

Blindfolded

Two

Jennifer growled in frustration. There were a lot of Curtises and none of them were named Sodapop. So she looked for the phone number she had called out of those. It was listed as Darrel Curtis. Jennifer panicked, thinking she had dialed the wrong number.

"No...because he would have said I had the wrong number...he wouldn't have even bothered to find out who I was," Jennifer reassured herself, writing the address at the top of one of the pages in her notebook.

She'd have to remember not to snap at...well, who ever answered the door about the phone call. There was probably an explanation, right? I mean, she always got annoyed when people called her asking for someone who wasn't there. Like when people called for her father. Didn't they know he was never home? Or were they that dense to where they couldn't keep track of their friends?

'I had to walk to...well, who-ever-I-called's, house. My feet felt like they were about to fall apart, I had been walking so much, and my shirt was sticking to my back because of the heat. The one thing that kept bothering me was that I'd be walking around in this disgusting heat for a lot longer than I wanted.'

Jennifer sighed, trying to calm herself as she stood in front of the front door of a small house. She had double checked the address so many times she knew it by heart and finally decided to knock on the door.

She waited for less than a minute when the door opened. A surprisingly calm looking person opened the door and looked at her curiously. "Can I help you?"

"Uhm ... I... I called here a few minutes ago and...and I'm pretty sure I had the right number, because my uncle gave me the number and I mean, I would guess he would know the number since he knew the person I'm looking for and, well, who ever answered the phone got upset with me and hung up and-"

"Whoa... okay, slow down. That was you? Man, my brother was goin' on about some stupid kid who was hasslin' him... Look, I'm sorry about that, he was really upset. Lots of stress at work. Apparently, your uncle didn't tell you I moved."

"...Of course. Of course you moved. My uncle's just such a clod he didn't even think of that," Jennifer muttered, running her fingers through her hair. "Uh, so... you are Sodapop, right?"

"Sure am."

"And...you knew my uncle? Paul?"

"...Yeah, I did. You're really Alice's daughter?"

"Well, that's a long story, but I'm looking for your brother Ponyboy."

"Lucky for you, he's in town. Taking a break from writin'... and teachin'. Maybe you could explain everything to me then, huh?" Soda asked with a grin, stepping away from the door and waving Jennifer inside. She hesitantly stepped inside, enjoying the cool air that brushed along her face as she dropped her backpack on the floor and sighed.

"Sit down where ever you like, I'll go get Ponyboy for you," Sodapop said, still smiling though his eyes seemed a bit worried, as he walked away. Jennifer dropped down on a couch in the living room, looking around as she waited.

'If I said I wasn't surprised by Soda's appearance, I'd be a dirty liar. He was very, very, very attractive. Too bad he was as old, a few years older even, than my mother was. There's a lot of old photographs in this room and I love photographs as much as the next person, more even, but none of them were really catching my eye.

'The only one's I was vaguely interested in were Soda and his brothers, which I assumed because they looked a like, when they were younger.'

"You must be Jennifer."

Jennifer quickly snapped her notebook shut and looked up. "Are you Ponyboy?"

He nodded and Jennifer noticed that he looked a lot like Sodapop. More than normal brothers usually do anyway. If Ponyboy were the same age, they'd probably be very close to identical twins. But Jennifer had no idea what age he would be.

"I wasn't expecting you so soon. Your mother told me you might show up one day but-"

"You knew I was coming? When did she tell you? When she was sick?"

"Wait, slow down," Soda interjected. Both Jennifer and Ponyboy looked at him, waiting. "Explain this a bit, would you?"

"Alice was my adoptive mother. I'm Jennifer Bartnett, but I use my mother's maiden name most of the time. Except in school, because they won't let me change it..." Jennifer trailed off. "Why do you look so upset?"

"It's nothing," Soda said, shaking his head. Ponyboy looked a bit worried, but picked up the conversation.

"She called me a few months ago, after she mailed me a package. She wanted me to hold onto it until... until you came."

"...She knew I was coming?"

"If you didn't, I would have called your uncle and asked that he bring you down. Alice was rather fixed on you getting that box."

"Wait, is she better now?" Sodapop asked. Jennifer frowned.

"No one told you?"

"Told me what? Ponyboy, do you know-"

"Alice died, Soda. She passed away a few days ago..." Ponyboy said slowly. Carefully even. Soda paled and looked down at the floor, seeming to be a bit lost for words. Ponyboy moved forward, probably to offer comfort, but Soda shrugged him off and walked outside.

"I'm sorry," Jennifer muttered, not really sure what she was apologizing for.

"Don't worry, it's not your fault. I should have told him earlier, but... well, I've just been a bit out of it since I found out. I'm sure he'll come around," Ponyboy said. "C'mon. I'll pull the box out and you can look through it in the extra room."

Jennifer stood up and followed him a bit silently, her notebook in the safety of the crook of her arm. Ponyboy gently pushed open a door near the end of the hallway and Jennifer peeked inside. She frowned. Her mother had stayed in this room, there really wasn't a doubt in her mind about that.

She stepped into the room, taking in her surroundings as Ponyboy opened the closet door and pulled a medium sized cardboard box out of it's depths.

"There ya go," He said, setting the box on the twin bed that was up against the wall. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Alright..." Jennifer said with a nod. "Thanks," she added.

"Sure thing," Ponyboy said with a smile, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

'I didn't rip into the box right away. I just sat on the bed next to it and looked around again. I didn't like being in that room. I could feel my mother everywhere. It was just screaming, "Alice was here! Alice was here!". It even had the faint smell of her. She always smelled like some sort of flower, one I could never place.

'There were still pictures scattered on the wall, and one of the walls had been painted light green and another one had gotten started, before who ever was painting apparently gave up. The rest of the walls had faint pencil sketches on them, or small pictures of flowers and birds already painted in. On one wall, it was just colorful swirls. When you looked up at the ceiling, there was a sun and a moon on either side of the ceiling light.

'My mother had definitely gotten her hands on this room, at the peak of her artistic mood it seemed. She had helped me attack my room in a similar manner, with roses climbing up the wall and lilies lining my closet doors. I loved my room, but my friends suggested I change the "five year old" theme and move onto one solid color.

'I'd never change that room now. It'd always stay the same and I hope that Darrel never changed this room either, despite how weird it makes me feel.

'I forgot about the box when I started thinking of Sodapop. Why had no one called him to let him now my mother was sick? Why hadn't she? Why did no one tell him she had died? Why did no one talk about him at home anymore?

'I could only remember stories my grandmother and uncle snuck me, like handing me a cookie before dinner. I also remembered that when ever I asked for "soda" instead of "pop", my mother would get a funny look on her face and ask, "Sure honey. What kind of pop do you want?" I stopped slipping that up and said pop when ever I was around her.

'But, eventually, I turned my attention back to the box and opened it up. At the top was a fairly new piece of paper.'

xxxx

"Dear Jennifer,

I'm dead. Simple, yes? You know it, I probably knew I was going to be, end of discussion. Not too hard.

I figured I would end up getting sick one day; that the sickness my father had was probably hereditary. Didn't think I'd die younger than him though. Either I had it worse than he did or I wasn't strong enough to hold out that long. The bad news, your father is your guardian. Good news? He ain't around. So you're with your Uncle Paul.

But, since you're reading this, that means Pony did a job well done and so did you. Imagine how different it could have been if you just sat at home? Hell, you wouldn't be reading this.

The room you're sitting in now is the room I stayed in when I visited Soda for the first time. I wonder if Darry took all of my stuff down after I stopped dating Soda...

Anyway, in the box are just a few things of mine. Hair (and normal) accessories, pictures... but there's something hidden in the box too and you'll have to find it on your own, 'cause I'm the only one who knows what you're looking for and where it is. And I can't help you anymore.

By the way, the other papers that are scattered through out the box (actually, they should be under this one) are letters I've kept. Soda's, Pony's, Paul's, I think one or two from Two-bit, Steve, Linda and Donna... you can read them when ever you like, if ever.

Good luck finding the special prize inside!

Love, Alice... er... Mom."

xxxx

Jennifer smiled. Alice forgot from time to time which name she was supposed to use to sign letters and other such things: Alice, Mom, or Mrs. Tate.

Just to make sure, Jennifer checked every letter for any hints. There, of course, were none, so she set them aside and grabbed a small box. Inside were hair accessories, jewelry, a few eyeliner pencils... nothing out of the ordinary.

She found a large envelope under that box and opened it. Drawings. She slipped them out and looked at all of them.

They were all pretty much people, though a few were a bit abstract. As Jennifer got closer to the end of the pile, she noticed that the pictures were more or less of the same person. An angry looking teenager, dated in '67. As the months in the date in the corner went by, he seemed to calm down. Between the second to last and last picture there was a note.

xxxx

"Dear Jennifer,

Almost there! This teenager helped me more than he'll ever know.

Love, Mom.

P.S. When you see him, let him know."

xxxx

"Okay, sure thing, Mom," Jennifer muttered, setting the pictures and the note aside too. There were a few stuffed animals in the box, but she didn't bother with those.

All that was left was a large bag of photos, so Jennifer took the bag and dumped the contents on the floor. She shifted through the photos of scenery and people. Some of the pictures she recognized and she guessed they must have been in someone's house before Alice sent them to Ponyboy.

One picture caught her eye. It wasn't one she was familiar with, but she recognized the face from her mother's drawings. She flipped it over.

"Dallas 'Dally' Winston, 1967".

Underneath that was a note and something heavily taped on.

xxxx

"You found it! Underneath that wad of tape is a ring. Dally's ring. I've kept that ring for, oh, about 16 years now. I'm 32 as I write this little note... anyway! Once you get the ring, you can keep it. To talk to Dally, how ever, you have to think to him.

Just think his name and pretend you're passing a note. He'll get it, don't worry. You can do this when ever you like. Time doesn't matter to a dead teenager. Can't believe that bastard doesn't look a day older..."

xxxx

"What the hell were you on?" Jennifer asked a picture of her mother. She just smiled at her.