Part 3
Daphne's POV
Running through the streets of Tulsa was much different than running through Miami. There wasn't much traffic and there were more kids playing around in vacant lots and stuff. As my feet pounded on the sidewalk, all I could think was, I'm going to meet my dad. After all these years, I'm finally going to talk to my dad! And that was enough to make me speed up.
I sat down hard on a park bench and waited for him to arrive. Somehow I had the feeling I would know who he was when he got there. Oh, that and the fact that there were no other fathers with little girls in the park. That might've had something to do with it too. So when I heard a quiet, "Here we are, Princess," and saw a man around my mom's age carefully wheeling a stroller over the curb onto the grass, I knew it was him. Sodapop Curtis. My father. And suddenly all I felt like doing was being sick. I mean, what was I doing there anyway? All this would do was interrupt his and his family's lives, and he would be saddled with another daughter he obviously never had an interest in raising. But I'd come all this way. I wasn't about to give up now.
So I got up and walked closer. I examined my dad as I approached him. He had brown hair, with lighter parts near his roots. It was summer, so I guess the sun bleached it. He looked like the type who would be outside a lot. And his eyes were brown, but instead of looking tired and sometimes defeated like my mom's did—and they were around the same age—his were lively and full of spark. Wild, almost dancing eyes. But they got gentler when he looked at his daughter, Amy. When he smiled at her, even I smiled and it wasn't even directed at me. And when he looked at me, I almost turned and ran.
"Can I help you with something?" he asked politely, turning the smile on me now. I nodded, my mouth turned dry as sawdust in an instant.
"Um." Great. Very intelligent, Daphne. And then I couldn't help it. Like ripping a bandaid off to get through the pain quickly, I blurted out, "I think you're my father!" And all I got was sudden, ear-splitting silence.
Sodapop's POV
Work. What a waste of a glorious, beautiful Saturday afternoon. There were so many better things I could've been doing—my wife would say fixing up something around the house, or cleaning the yard. I would say playing with my daughter or having my friends over for a talk about the "old days." But having been a working man since I was sixteen, I was used to being forced to give up the hot, sunny, perfect-weather-for-a-picnic days to work to support my family. Only the family members I was supporting were different now.
I got married four years ago. My wife's name was Tracy Pollack, now it's Tracy Curtis. I met her when she was checking into the hotel I used to work at (now I own it. Still work at the front desk sometimes, though. I like to talk to the people, find out what their stories are.). And over the week she stayed there (incidentally, she was in town for a wedding), I decided I liked her. A lot. And that was something that hadn't happened often since my Sandy experiences. That was six years ago. Two years of dating later, we got married. Ponyboy was my best man. But it wasn't until about a year ago (eleven months, as a matter of fact) that our daughter Amanda Jean was born. We named her after my mother. And she is the light of my life. I swear, being a dad is the best thing that ever happened to me. Ask any of us in the gang who have kids, and they'll tell you the same. At least I think they would. I'm a little doubtful about Two-Bit…
Darry isn't married. He probably never will be. He's just so independent, ever since Mom and Dad died. It's a shame though, having the experience of raising Pony and me for while, he would've made a great father. He was a great father to Pony and me too. Brother and father. But he didn't roof houses anymore either, he was a coach at the high school, whipping those guys into shape and "teaching those so-called-jocks what real football is." His words, not mine. And I think he really likes doing it, too. He still lives in the old house, although it's been considerably fixed up since I moved out ten years ago.
Steve. Still my best buddy, but not the same guy he was. He got into a lot of trouble with drugs for a while. Heroin addict, actually. But eventually he climbed up out of that hole (more on that later) and ironically, he's now a drug counsellor working down at the high school with Darry. I guess when they hired him they figured, he's been there, done that, who better to relate to the students? Also, he has a bit of a limp from getting shot in the leg one time when he was partying at Buck Merrill's place. I don't think he's been there since. And Steve is a father too—he has an eleven-year-old son from his heroin years. No mom in the picture, though. Just the two of them. Steve named him Michael—he never admitted it to anyone, but I think he named him after Ponyboy, who helped him through some tough times.
Two-Bit wised up one day—might've had something to do with his stubborn but well-meaning girlfriend, now wife—and finally graduated from that Will Rogers High School. He's the manager of several chain restaurants in the area, and his employees love him—he never gets them in trouble for anything. Good ol' Two-Bit got married a year before Tracy and I, to a (yes, blonde) woman named Susannah—Suze. She's a real nice person, but like I said, determined to whip her husband into shape. Good cook, though. And for all his complaining and joking, Two-Bit wouldn't trade married life for being a bachelor for anything you paid him. Especially when Suze is expecting their first kid in February.
And Ponyboy? He went to college like we all knew he would, even got the academic scholarship Darry always hoped he would. Published a few books, but surprisingly got into social work. I guess he figured he could help kids out from "our side of the tracks" since he knew exactly what it was like to be in their position. Also, I think he wanted to help all the Johnny Cades and Dallas Winstons out there. And he was doing just that. He's married too—to a soft-spoken, gentle and cheerful person named Eva. They live just down the street from Tracy and I, so Amy can play with their twins, Hannah and Cade. They're just a few months younger than she is, about five months old now. Cade has big brown eyes, just like his namesake. And Hannah completely takes after her father, with grey-green eyes and that reddish-brown hair.
Like I said, Ponyboy really helped Steve with the whole drug problem while I was away in Vietnam. I was so proud to hear about it when I came home. Now they get along a lot better than they ever did before. So I guess my absence was in a way a good thing.
It was interesting to see how far we'd all come, I mused as I pushed Amy along in the stroller later that afternoon, on the way to the park. She was a happy-go-lucky baby, not fussy, thank goodness. Even at thirty-three, I still needed plenty of sleep. Never was a morning person and never will be. Her blonde curls were tucked beneath a hat to shade her from the hot sun. She was giggling at whoever passed us on the sidewalk. And when we got to the park, I wheeled her over towards the fountain. She liked to watch it and get her little fingers wet when I took her out of the stroller.
But then this teenage girl walked over to. I had to do a double-take when I saw her, she looked so familiar. Blonde hair, brown eyes. Not smiling, but looking at me intently. Her eyes looked sad, and almost…afraid.
"Can I help you with something?" I asked finally, since she was staring at me with that strange look on her face for so long.
She nodded, opened her mouth to say something and shut it again. Then, in a rush, she broke the awkward silence. And the words I heard her say were,
"I think you're my father!"
What's going to happen to Daphne? How will Soda react to her outburst? And is Sandy going to have to come to Tulsa herself? Well, if you review then I'll post more soon and you'll all find out! Simple, right? So go review! (Please.)
