-1Chapter 4

I realize now that I don't actually like summer all that much. It means being at home all the time, with him. He hasn't left at all, and I've got the bruises to prove it. I never do seem to get anything right, he's always hitting me for something. Now I'm hauling rocks pointlessly. One day he wants them at the top of the hill in the backyard, the next he wants them lining the garden in the front. These rocks aren't small either, they're huge rocks that I can only carry one at a time and there's tons of them. It's a waste of time, really, but I do it because he tells me to. Today they'd look best at the top of the hill next to a tree on the far side of the lawn. I've been moving rocks for hours and I'm only half-way done. I hear him call my name and run in, looking at him anxiously. He has the phone in his hand,

"It's your brother." He says flatly. I nod silently and take the phone in shaking hands.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Ponyboy, I called to tell you that I've been adopted, so we can see each other more now. The people I live with are really nice, Pony. I still live in Tulsa, too, so I see the guys all the time. We're going to have to get together some time, I know you only live an hour and a half away. I'll give you my number. So, how've you been?" Soda says this all in one breathe, so I know he's excited. I fake enthusiasm,

"That's great Soda! I'm so happy for you. What're your parents like?"
"Their names are Chris and Emily Hudgins, Chris is around Dad's age, but he's more scholastic than athletic."

"How do you know a word like scholastic?"

"I lived with you for twelve years, didn't I?" The use of the past tense sobers our mood considerably. I laugh,

"Go on"

"Well, he's nice and he likes me well enough, but his wife, she's so sweet, she absolutely adores me, I think." I laugh,

"The women can't help loving you, Sodapop." He sighs and says dramatically,

"I can't help my curse." I laugh as he does and I say,

"Well, I'll take your number and we'll definitely get together sometime." He rattles a number off, which I memorize. I hang up the phone, but he grabs my shoulder and takes the phone off the hook, smashing it into my face and breaking my nose. Blood pours out, but I don't make a sound. I've learned what pain is by now, a broken nose doesn't even compare. I barely even blink. A month of pain will do that to you.

I mop up my 'goddamned mess' as he called it before completing the rest of my chores, I make lunch, sweep the hardwood floors, vacuum the carpets, clean my room, wash the dishes, do the laundry, mow the lawn, move the rocks again, feed the three dogs and two horses. I pet them quietly as I muck the stalls, leading them outside and exercising them. I just run beside them with their leads in my hands, I'm a pretty fast runner. Every time I look at them I think how Soda would love them, but then feel bad because that's like wishing he was here with me, in hell. I don't want that. I groan as I'm called back inside the house. I put the horses in their freshly cleaned stalls.

There's five men standing with him when I enter the house. I put my hands in my pocket and look down,

"Yes sir?" I ask meekly. He motions to me roughly,

"That's the boy." The men all look at me, they look normal enough, varying sizes. There's a short, fat man with balding hair. Another is tall and wiry with curly black hair. There's a stately old man and a young, muscular one not old enough to hold the beer in his hand. The last looks like the hoods I'm used to, skin stretched over lean muscle, slouched and looking like a panther. He's young too, but the first reminds me more of a Soc, built like a lion and bluntly grand. I look at them as they look back at me appraisingly. He puts out his hand and surprising amounts of money are given to him. The men then turn to me, the fat one says eagerly,

"Where?"

"The basement, all the materials are already there." His voice is calm and serene, now I'm looking around in panic. The two younger ones grab me and drag me down into the basement. The old man and the stick go over to a rusty cabinet and open it. There's straps, paddles, boards, knives, chains, brooms, bats, rulers, and an iron in there, along with a thick braided whip. My stomach sinks as the fat one shoves me down and sits on top of me. I can't breath.

"Take off his clothes." The man instructs the other two, who are handed knives and they busily set about their task. Then other instruments are taken out and they pass me around, working me over with their weapon of choice. The Soc takes a board, the old man a broom, the fat one a paddle, the greaser a chain, and the thin one a ruler. I bleed and hurt, I yelp and cry. They laugh. Their weapons drop to the ground and I dizzily sigh in relief. Then they drag out a chair and I'm thrown over a knee, a hand slapping into my naked behind repeatedly. They take turns doing this as well. The stick's bony hand is soft and ineffective, so he has the others hold me down as he pressed the iron into my skin. The old man doesn't hit me, he runs his hands across my body.

I wake up in the basement, wondering where I am. I realize I am naked and memories flood into my young mind. I shiver from them and get up before realizing that I will have to go through the house like this. I sigh, recognizing I have no other choice. When I open the door to the basement, he turns and looks at me with a smile,

"You are going to make me very rich." He states, looking at me in glee. He nears toward me and purrs, "And very happy." Pain again, the shame is unbearable as he rapes me on the kitchen floor. All the pain, all the pain…