Deceiver
Chapter Five - The car
Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1966
Darry drops his keys and wallet on the coffee table, sits himself down with a sigh in the recliner. He looks around in the room, eyes slightly more relaxed at the sight.
"You've cleaned up? Good."
"Yeah," Soda says, standing in the middle of the floor. I sit with my pen in my hand, a paper in front of me. Despite everything that's going on, I know I have to do my homework. There is tension in the room, and Soda looks like he's waiting for something. I don't miss the glance Darry gives me.
"What?" I say, dropping my pen. "You can say it while I'm here." I look between him and Soda, frown when they hesitate. "C'mon," I urge them.
My oldest brother scratches the back of his neck. "All right."
"You went to the station? What did they say?" Soda says before Darry has the time to continue, not able to hold it back anymore. His eyes are almost burning.
Darry sighs again, puts his elbows on his knees, hands in front of his mouth. "Well, the police I talked to were a bit absent-minded, but he told me they would look into it."
I hear Soda mutter a damnit, and I look down, bite my lip. Of course they wouldn't listen. We're just poor greasers, why would they? It's the same as always. They have no problem to haul in Dally or Tim or Two-Bit for things they didn't even do, but when we need help, they just don't care.
"Did you tell them everythin'?" I ask, like it would matter.
"What we agreed about, yes."
Not what I agreed about. It was just him and Soda, but I'm not stupid. I know there are things we should be careful to speak out loud. We can't let the Social Services know about the possible threat, so they get the wrong idea that Darry's not able to take care of me. They would probably move me to a boy's home in the blink of an eye if they found out. Even if they believed us or not.
I'm not satisfied yet. "But if they grab him, will they check his fingerprints?" I persist. "They will know he's Henry?"
"Damn, Pony, I don't know." Darry sounds more frustrated by now, his face changes like he wears a mask that is slowly falling off. He rubs his temple. "I'll go back in a few days and see."
I guess that's the only thing we can do for now. And maybe, if we're lucky, he's not a threat to us anymore. He did say that he wouldn't do us anything, that he would leave town. Even if I should prefer to know where he is, in prison for what he did to our parents, Mom and Dad still won't come back no matter what we do.
Sometimes I forget that.
xXx
Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1966
The weekend passes without anything unusual. Johnny and I go to the movies, and Soda tags along with a cursing Steve. I know he doesn't want to come, but then they just end up talking with some girls anyway, and he seems happy enough. I wonder what Sandy and Evie would say about it, though, but that's not my business. I still don't get this thing with girls, so I can't really judge them.
My brothers make sure I'm not alone for a second. If Soda can't, they ask Two-Bit or Dally, and even if I really like the company of others when I walk down our streets, I kind of feel ridiculous. I'm not a baby. Sometimes it's just not funny to be the youngest, the one everyone feels they have to protect. Even Johnny seems more alert when we're out, and he's nearly my size. I can take everyone he can take. So my mood is not the best, and I wonder how long we have to keep up with this, when we can start to live a normal life again. Or as normal as we can, without our parents. When my brothers will stop whispering between them. It feels like they don't tell me anything.
And what if the police never look into it, or never find him? What will happen then? I'm still thinking of it while I wait for Dally to show up after school on Monday. It's Soda's first workday at the DX, and that doesn't make me feel any better. And Dally is late. It's almost an hour and a half since the last bell rang, and I hope he hasn't forgotten me. Darry wouldn't like it if I walk home by myself, but I swear, soon I'll do it anyway. It's freezing out. I know he said to wait indoors, but I don't want to hang out in an empty hallway.
"Hey, kid." Dally suddenly steps up, punches me gentle on my shoulder while flicking his white blonde bangs away from his eyes.
"Hey," I mutter at him, walk past him and start heading for home. I don't say anything about him being late, it's no use for that. He wouldn't care. He just steps up beside me, lights a cigarette, without saying I'm sorry or tell me why he took his time to come.
Dally is a dropout too, but he's nothing like Soda. I don't really know what he's doing for a living. I doubt his dad give him much money, and he only ride in rodeo's in the summer. But I would never ask. You just don't ask Dally such things.
He waves with his cigarette while he gives me a detailed version of a fight he and Tim Shepard had with some Socs a couple of days ago. He has a bruise on his face, not much unlike mine, as a proof. "They look fuckin' worse," he tells me, and I believe him.
There's a car on our driveway and I stop short when I see it. Dally stops too, looking wary.
"What the fuck?" He turns to me. "Who's that?"
"I - I don't know."
"Stay here," he says and takes a step, but I grip his sleeve.
"N-no. Let's go to Soda, okay?" And then I start walking back the way we came. I can hear Dally curse behind my back, but he follows. When we're a block away, I glance at him.
"I think - I think it's Mrs. Garcia," I admit. I don't know if flee is the best thing to do, but I just can't show up alone, or with Dally. I think he gets it, because he smirks, and I feel awful.
xXx
Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1942
"No," Darrel says, without emphasis. "It ain't right."
"Fuck what's right. Who fuckin' cares?" Henry sucks on his cigarette, inhales hard. It burns in his lungs, his cold isn't completely healed. He's too tired for this, actually.
"You do if the cops come." Darrel folds his arms, glares at the door to the shop.
"We run faster than them," Henry lies, trying to avoid to sigh. "C'mon."
"No." But he hesitates. He needs to do it. He knows that. Mike is on him again. He managed to pay his first debt, but now he owes him more, and he still hasn't got a job. No one will hire him. He's only sixteen, dresses badly in torn jeans and shoes, doesn't have a car. It's fucking hopeless.
"I'll do it. You just have to talk to him. He won't even notice, I promise."
"Just talk to him?"
"Yeah."
"I'll kill you if the cops come."
"They won't."
Darrel shakes his head, but he doesn't say anything more. He just leaves the wall he stands leaning against, starts walking without a word. Henry smiles. Five minutes later, he follows, open up the door, steps up to the empty counter. He hear voices from somewhere, not far, but he knows Darrel made sure the cashier won't notice.
He knows what button to press. Smiles at the bills lying there, just waiting to be taken. But he only takes a few, a couple of twenty-dollar bills, and that has to be it. They're not thieves.
xXx
Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1966
The DX comes in sight, and I start to trot over the street. I don't come far until someone grabs the back of my jacket, jerks me backwards. A second later, a car droves by, just a few feet from me.
"Jesus kid!" Dally snarls. "Keep your fuckin' eyes open." He continues his cursing. "You try to get yourself killed?"
I tear myself loose from his grip and stumble out onto the street again. Another car comes by, steers out of the way and the driver honks irritated.
"Stop it, Dal," I hiss. How can he say something like that? He knows everything that has happened, everything that's still going on. I'm not trying to get myself killed, I'm trying the opposite, and he knows that. But Dallas Winston never apologizes, instead, he grabs me by my jacket again and drags me over to a safer area.
"I should get paid for this fuckin' shitjob," he mutters while opening the door to the DX.
Soda stands behind the counter, chewing on a gum, flipping through a car magazine. A little bell jingle when we open the door, and he looks up, but his grin disappears when he sees us. "Hey, Pony. Dally, what's up?" He sounds worried and I hate it.
"It's a fuckin' social worker at your place." Dally picks out a Pepsi from the fridge nearby, opens it with his teeth. He spits out the cap on the floor, slaps a bill in front of Soda.
"What?" Soda exclaims, looks at me, completely ignoring the payment.
"I don't know," I say to him, eyeing Dal's Pepsi. I want one too, but I have no money. "It looks like her car but I ain't sure."
"Damnit." He looks around. "I can't leave, it's my first day, " he tells me. "I have to stay."
"Well, I ain't goin' home alone as long as she's there," I mutter, folding my arms. A lot of thoughts is racing my head, and the most scary one is that she has come to take me away. And I rather run away and hide for the rest of my life than let that happen. I think Darry and Soda think so too. At least Soda.
"I'm gonna call Darry as soon as Will gets back," Soda says. "You can stay here, Pone."
"I can go with Dally someplace."
Soda grabs my arm. "No," he says. "I don't want you out on the streets. You can sit in the staff room, I bet that's okay. You got homework to do, right?"
I wonder when he started to care about homework. Usually it's only Darry who is nagging about it. But I shrug, I do have some work to do, and I guess I can do it here.
The staff room is a small place with a few lockers, a table, four chairs and a bench with a percolator that seems well used. I sit down in one of the chairs, pick up my books. I glance up at Soda, who still lingers in the doorway.
"Just call for me if you need anythin'," he says to me. I smile.
"A Pepsi?"
He rolls his eyes, not surprised at all. "Sure."
xXx
Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1956
His fridge is as empty as his wallet. He only got a couple of dollars left on his last salary, and he has no job to go back to since he were fired. Rent, gas and food eats it all in a couple of weeks, and now he has nothing to live of.
He closes the fridge again, leans his head at the cold surface, thinking of Darrel's place that could have been his. Hell, Darrel's fucking life could have been his. He pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers, trying to think. The years in prison has taught him a lot, and he will not do anything that will put him there again.
He still needs money.
It's the first time he walks uninvited to Darrel's house, but he knows he's welcome. He always is. The only one that's wary is that little boy, and it's almost fun to watch. To see how far he can go before the kid crumples. It's power. And it's him who possess it this time.
He knocks at the door and waits.
xXx
Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1966
When we get home, there's a note in our mailbox, telling Darry to call Mrs. Garcia. I want to throw up.
"You think she'll take me away?" I ask Soda, wide-eyed and shaky. But he just flings his arm around my shoulders.
"No way, Pony," he assures me, but I can hear the doubt in his voice. "It's just a crazy teacher's words, right?"
"Yeah, but-"
"No buts. She ain't gonna take you. Promise."
I follow him to the kitchen and watch as he starts with the dinner. He moves easily around, dances to the song on the radio that's blaring from the living room. I wonder how he can be so happy, but when he throws a glance over his shoulder, I can see in his eyes that he's not. He just pretends.
"What about Henry then?" I ask. "You just gonna keep watchin' me all the time or what?"
Soda stops, give me a serious face. "As long as it takes, Pony."
I put my elbow on the table, lean my chin in my hand. "Yeah, but Soda..." I trail off, not knowing what to say. Soda only gives me a little smile. He understands me in a way nobody else can, and I'm so thankful for having him. That's make me even more scared of everything that's happening to us. If they take me away, or if something happens to him, I wouldn't stand it.
xXx
Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1966
"Sarah?"
"God, Hen- Luke!" She takes a deep breath. "Where are you? Still in Lawton? Please tell me you're on your way this time. Why don't you call me?"
"I call you now, don't I?" Then he adds, "I'm in Tulsa." He prepares himself for the scolding, and he's not disappointed. With the phone some inches from his ear, he hear her ramble, yell, shout and finally almost beg.
"Shut up," he snarls after a while. She does, breathes hard a couple of times.
"I hate you," her voice reaches him.
"You love me."
"Yeah. That's the problem. Luke, listen. If they find out what you did, you'll be back in prison."
He rubs his forehead. The truth in her words hits him hard. He knew this, but hearing it is different. But he can't go back to prison.
"People know."
"What?"
"People know Sarah! Remember the couple in that car, the Curtises?"
He's sure she does. It wasn't that long time ago. You don't forget it.
"They're dead. They can't-"
"Not them! Their boys!"
It's silent in the other end. Then, "What did you say?"
He squeezes his eyes shut. "Their boys know. I told the youngest."
"Their boys? They had kids, Henry? They had kids?" her voice is a pitch higher than usual. "God, Henry! And you told them?"
"It's Luke! And they're not kids, okay? Damnit."
"What are you gonna do, Luke?" She almost sounds desperate. He sighs.
"I don't know." He twirls the cord around his fingers. "I guess I'll have to deal with it."
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