Deceiver

Chapter Six - The face

Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1966

She sits in the recliner, proper, and for the moment, quiet. I can feel her gaze on me, how she takes in my face, the bruise, now fading but still visible. I shift uncomfortable next to Soda in the couch. Darry just comes from the kitchen, places a cup or coffee in front of her.

"Thank you, Darrel." Mrs. Garcia gives him a little smile, and my brother takes some steps back, stops.

"As you already know, we got a call from Ponyboy's teacher." She plops down a piece of sugar in the black fluid, takes up the spoon, swirls with it. "She's very worried about his home situation." She looks at me again, a bit concerned. "And I must say, it's a nasty bruise you've got, Ponyboy."

I hold in my breath so hard it hurts. Soda places a hand on my wrist, squeezes gentle. I know he tries to comfort me, but he doesn't succeed. I'm scared stiff, but ready to bounce up and run if I have to. I will run, I promise myself. I can hide at Two-Bit's.

"I need to know what happened. What really happened."

"I didn't hit him," Darry says sternly, folding his arms. "He's my brother!"

Mrs. Garcia takes a sip, puts down the cup again, smirks. "Well, Darrel, I think you know as well as I that relationship between people does not mean that abuse never occurs."

I think of Johnny and his dad, and how Steve's dad treats him, and how Dally's probably is. I've never met Mr. Winston, but the way Dally acts, I can guess, and I think I guess correctly. And I also know that Tim has beaten up Curly, not only once, and they are brothers. I know that relationship sometimes means nothing if you're mad enough. But not in our family. Never in our family, and it hurts just to think that some people believe we could do that to each other.

I can see how Darry clenches his teeth, and I hear Soda's breaths. He's upset too.

"Ponyboy-" she starts, but I interrupt her.

"He didn't do it."

She smiles at me. "I think you and I should talk in private instead."

I glance up at Darry, and he nods, trying to give me an assuring expression, and I kind of wonder if he wants them to take me away. Shouldn't he talk to her, make her sure I'm fine? He's the guardian! But I guess, without me, he can live his life again. He and Soda had managed much better without me, without another mouth to feed.

Soda lets go of my arm and I rise, and I must look wary because Mrs. Garcia chuckles lowly.

"I won't bite you, Ponyboy."

We go to Soda's spotless room. It's spotless because I've cleaned it like a maniac, and I'm happy for it now. I bet she had had her opinions of empty cigarette packs, Pepsi-bottles and dirty clothes lying on the floor, in a negative way.

She takes the chair and I sit down on the bed, hands in my pockets to not bite my nails.

"You want to tell me what happened, Ponyboy?" She crosses one leg over the other, clasps her hands over her knee.

"Um... yeah, I guess." I take a breath and try to harden up a bit. "I was at the cemetery and when I was leaving, this guy came and punched me. But it wasn't that bad, and then Soda and Two-B... um, our friend Keith came and pick me up. They took care of me," I add, hoping it will do good.

Her face gets smooth. "You were visiting your parents?"

"Yeah."

"This must be very hard for you."

I shrug. Of course it's hard. But I won't tell her how hard.

"Is it helping to talk to Mrs. Ellis in school?"

First I can only stare at her. I didn't knew that she knows that I go see her. "Maybe," I finally say. "A bit." I don't know if it does, but whatever makes her satisfied. I can see on her face that she is.

"So you went by yourself to the cemetery?"

I bite my lip, not sure what the right answer should be at that question. "Yeah, but that's okay, I mean, it's not that far away and..." I glance at her, but her expression reveals nothing. "... and I won't do it again," I end the sentence.

"You are allowed to visit your parents, Ponyboy, but if you're at risk to get into dangerous situations, maybe you can have one of your brothers with you next time?"

I nod. "Okay."

"So this 'guy'...?"

"I don't know who he is," I hurry to lie. "But I promise it wasn't Darry!"

xXx

After she has left, it's like the air leave us. We sit quiet in the living room, not looking at each other. I guess it went well. I hope so. She talked to me for a while, and then she and Darry spoke in the kitchen, and after that she just wished us a good evening and left. I still can't believe she didn't ask me to pack my bags.

Soda is the first to break the silence. "So, what did she say?" He looks at Darry. My older brother doesn't hesitate.

"I don't think we need to worry. Maybe a few more unannounced visits for a while." He looks at me. "And you'll be careful, Pony. I doubt she will let it go if this happens again." He says it with another tone in his voice, and to me, it sounds too harsh. I fold my arms.

"It wasn't my fault!"

"So you didn't sneak out to the cemetery even though I forbade you to go there alone, huh? And you never sought up that guy on purpose either, right?" Darry puts his hand on the recliner's arms, pushing himself up. "You never listen! Now see what happens when you don't use your head."

I feel myself go red. "I didn't know it was him, I thought it was his brother!"

"That doesn't matter, Ponyboy," Darry almost yells. "I'm just telling you to not disobey me again or-"

"Or what?" I shout. "You'll call Mrs. Garcia? So she can take me away?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Pony."

"Guys, please," Soda says pleading. "It went fine, all right? No need to argue."

Darry snaps his head at his direction, but I can see that he calms down. Soda always manages to calm him down. "It was close, Soda," he says tiredly. "You both really need to stay out of trouble. She asked me about you dropping out too, but since it's legal..." He shakes his head. "I'm going to make something to eat."

Soda and I stay quiet in the living room when Darry disappears into the kitchen. Through the doorway I can see how he moves around, and by the way he treats the things he gathers, I can tell he's still annoyed.

xXx

Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1966

The car on the driveway makes him curious. It's too fancy to belong in this neighborhood, and when the woman exits the house, he doesn't think twice before he turns his key. Not really knowing why he follows her through Tulsa, staying behind her, making sure not to lose the sight of the car. Even though the traffic is heavy this time of day, he's lucky. He still can see her, despite two other cars between them.

A knot spreads in his stomach when she drives into a familiar street, but he continues tailing her, cursing to himself.

She's with the police. Damnit. Fuckin' damnit!

But she continues past the station, and he frowns even more. Maybe he was wrong... Two turns left and he pulls his car into the curb, watching her park and climb out onto the parking lot between two houses. This time his frown disappears and he smiles instead when she enters the closest building.

So they are in trouble? He looks at the sign above the door, knowing exactly what she does.

xXx

Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1942

They are more brave each time, but Darrel keeps complaining. Henry wishes he could shout at him to just shut up, but he can't. They need each other.

"Just a couple of hundreds," Darrel says. He wears a new jacket. He couldn't afford it before.

"Tony has a party tomorrow tonight," Henry says. "He asked me to get some booze."

"How much?"

Henry shrugs. "As much as we can buy."

"So why can't Tony go with you tonight then?"

Henry grins. "You know he's a coward. And hid dad would kill him if we get caught."

"He just wants us to do the dirty work-" Darrel gets silent and Henry turns his head. Down the hallway of the school, some girls passing by.

"Hi, Darrel." The one in the middle has golden locks and books pressed against her chest.

"Hi, Anne."

She flashes a smile, then turns to her friends. They all giggle as they disappear around the corner.

"A couple of hundreds," Darrel says again, grinning, "but I ain't goin' to that party."

xXx

Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1966

He sits in an old apartment in Tulsa, belonging to another, knowing it's stupid of him. For each day the risk he will run into someone he knows, or someone who knew Luke, is even bigger. A different name on the door means nothing if you still have the same face.

That's why he jerks up from the mattress on the floor when someone knocks - lightly, almost hesitating. Then there's a voice.

"Luke?"

Goddamnit. He takes the floor in a few steps, opens up fiercely.

"What are you doin' here?"

She pouts with red lips. "Is that the right way to welcome your woman?" She walks past him, stares at the room. "It's really empty in here."

He closes the door, leans himself against it. "I ain't got a lot of money."

She turns around. "That's why we should go to my place, Luke." She places her hands on his chest, leans up to kiss him. "Come on. Let's leave."

He pushes her away gently, walks over the floor and plops down on the mattress again. A cigarette pack lies nearby, he catches it and takes a stick. Inhaling, he watches her.

"I can't."

"And why is that? Because of the kids?"

"Yes."

She rolls her eyes. "That's exactly why you should leave, Henry."

"Fuck you, Sarah." He glares.

"So what are you gonna do? Kill them?"

"Maybe."

She snorts. Folds her arms. "You're not a killer."

"I killed their parents."

"No, you didn't. You couldn't, Henry. Luke did."

"Because he was sick!" He ashes the cigarette on the floor, watches as the flakes of embers fall down, almost wishing they will start a fire. But they die down on the floor board. "He should die anyway. That's why it was him who did it."

Sarah walks to him, takes the cigarette. She puts it out in the water glass standing on the floor, sits down next to him.

"Baby," she says, "why don't you relax a bit?" She grabs the hem of his shirt, drags it over his head. His scars are visible in the dim light, and she traces them with a finger. He grips her hand.

"Stop it!"

xXx

Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1966

Two-Bit is in a good mood. Walking a few steps behind me and Johnny, his mouth races.

"... and if she ever comes back, Pony, I'm tellin' ya to just give 'er a couple of compliments, okay, kiddo? Nothin' works better on a woman-"

I turn my head, blushing. "She's like fifty, Two-Bit, and she's ugly."

Johnny chuckles.

"-but don't do comments on her boobs, okay? That will be bad," Two-Bit continues. "You have to know what to say. She's a blonde?"

"No!" I shake my head, trying not to laugh. "And I doubt your advice would work any good on a Social worker, Two-Bit."

Sometimes I wonder what's going on in my friends head, but at least he makes me feel better about the whole thing. He grins at me, like his mission is complete now when I'm cheered up.

I was a bit surprised when the two of them showed up at my school, since I knew they still had classes by then, but it's not that uncommon for them to ditch either. At first we went to the Dairy Queen to eat and now we just walk on the streets, enjoying the first day when it almost feels like spring in the air. It's still February, though, but the air is not as cold as it has been.

"Where to now?" Two-Bit asks, stepping up next to us.

"I have to go straight home," I tell him with a grimace. We stop to wait for the cars to drive by so we can cross the street. I turn to face the cars this time, not wanting to repeat the thing that happened when I walked with Dally. I know he kind of saved my life, even if I was mad at him at the time for what he said. I meet the drivers' eyes, a bit absentmindedly, just about to turn to Johnny to say something when the words stop in my throat. I take a step back, and I can feel how the blood leaves my face, making me dizzy.

"Oh God," I choke.

"What's the matter, Pony?" Johnny says, gripping my arm. "Gosh, you're all pale."

"I-it was him! In the car!"

Two-Bit spins around, but the car disappears along with the others, and I can't even remember what color it had. All I know is that it was him, and he hasn't left town, he's still in Tulsa. I'm happy Johnny holds me, because my legs almost can't support my own weight.

"Are you sure, Pony?" Two-Bit says, all serious now.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure. It was him. I saw him." I will always know that face. It's different now, older, since I was a kid, but since the cemetery, I know how he looks like. I wasn't mistaken.

xXx

Tulsa, Oklahoma, 1956

Darrel opens the door, a surprised smile on his face.

"Henry? Come in."

He does. "Family home?" he asks warily.

"Just me and Ponyboy." Darrel gestures at the little boy, playing in the living room, as always. His eyes are wide, green. Henry smirks at him, and the boy looks away with a whimpering sound.

"I'll just put him to bed, he needs a nap. Sit down and wait," Darrel says, going to pick up the boy. The two of them disappear down the hallway. Henry sits down in the couch, looking around.

They are poor. There's nothing fancy about their house. Nothing expensive. Still, they have more than him.

Darrel comes back, goes to the kitchen and gets some beers. Henry takes his, opens it.

"I need money," he says. He meets Darrel's gaze. His friend looks sad.

"I would lend you if I could," he starts. "But I ain't got a lot."

"That's not what I meant," Henry assures. "I was thinking about the old days."

Darrel scratches the back of his neck, looking awkward.

"You know you owe me," Henry says. "Just this time. I could use your help."

"I'm sorry, but you know I can't."

"Why?" It comes out bitter and he grips the beer bottle harder.

"You chose that path. Not me. I have a family, Henry. My wife and my boys. I won't risk anything." Then he says, "I'm sorry."

"Okay." A deep sigh. "Okay. Sorry I asked. I shouldn't have."

"It's okay. Maybe... maybe I can help you with a few dollars."

"It's okay. Really." I don't need your charity!

But Darrel rises, picks out his wallet from his back pocket. "No. You're right. I owe you. I just can't..." he trails off, digs out some bills. "Here. Take them."

And Henry hates himself because he does.

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