"Miss Cedar?" Judith Greene's voice called over the receiver. I had forgotten that she was on the phone.
"Yeah?" I said weakly. The entire store was slipping in and out of focus, and I knew it was all a matter of time before my knees gave way and I landed flat on my ass.
"I tried calling your house several times, to reach your father. No one answered the phone…I'm worried that something may be wrong," she said carefully. She knew as well as I did that the only time my father left the house was the get more beer. And I knew we had at least three cases in the refrigerator, along with another half a dozen in the basement. We always kept enough in the house, so he wouldn't have to drink and drive.
"I'll go over there and check in," I said slowly. "I'm sure everything's fine."
"I'll come to talk to you in a week or so, just let me know if you need anything, alright?" she said softly. For a moment, I actually thought she cared about us.
"Yes ma'am," I said politely as I hung up the phone. I held onto the counter for dear life, my heart pounding in my chest.
It was Soda who finally broke me from the thoughts, when he ran in, a stupid, shit eatin' grin on his face.
"What'd you do?" he teased. The second I looked up, the smile faded from his face. "What happened?"
"Tommy's dead," I whispered, sinking to the floor. I didn't care that there were customers or anything. I just sat down there, my head in my hands, fighting back tears.
"How?" he asked, sitting down next to me, putting an arm around me.
"Apparently he was…he was…" I couldn't say the words. I couldn't let it be true. "He was drafted a month ago," I finally managed. "I had no idea, an' Judith Greene, she called and said…said…" I couldn't get the words out. I couldn't tell him what she said.
"Golly, I'm sorry!" Soda said, pulling me in for a hug. Suddenly, that weird, sixth sense all big sisters seemed to have, kicked in.
"She said she tried the house but no one picked up the phone," I said, pulling away quickly. "My dad's got Michelle today…" Suddenly, I saw red. Suddenly, I was no longer thinking about my dead brother.
"I'll get Steve," Soda said, wrapping his head around everything. In a flash, he was out of sight. I pulled myself to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest. If anything happened to that little girl…
I was surprised that Soda came with us. I knew he was working till closing, but I guess he wanted to see what was going to happen. Mary sat in the back seat of Steve's car, next to Soda, while I sat in the front, tapping my fingers on the dashboard restlessly. It took only a few minutes to reach the house. As soon as we did, I knew something was wrong. My father's car was in the driveway, but the front door was thrown open. We never left it unlocked, let alone wide open. I was out of the car before Steve even came to a full stop. I skidded to a stop when my eyes caught sight of the scene in front of me.
The table in the living room was turned upside down, the sofa had a deep, long gash in it, like someone had taken a knife right to it. There was broken glass all over the floor. I carefully stepped over the mess, into the kitchen, where my stomach dropped to the floor.
Beside the table, laid a pool of blood. In that pool of blood, laid my father.
"Michelle," I whispered, trying to keep myself from falling. I spun around and raced up the stairs, my heart racing in my chest. I didn't bother to see if anyone had followed. Instead, I threw open my little sister's bedroom, my heart sinking when I realized she wasn't there.
"Michelle? Mickey, where are you sweetheart?" I called loudly. Then I heard it. A sound no sister, and certainly, no mother, ever wanted to hear. Her scream was blood curdling. The sound echoed off the walls, sending my mind into a state of panic. I followed the sound. I threw open my father's bedroom door, freezing at the sight in front of me.
I'd lived in that neighborhood my entire life. I'd seen some stuff that no one, especially girls, wanted to see. But what I saw in that moment, would haunt me the rest of my life.
He was a tall man, with dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes. His face was expressionless, even as he turned the gun from my sister to me. He almost seemed to smile when he realized I was frozen in fear.
In the back of my mind, I was thinking about my mother. How I had been there when she was shot sixteen times. How I was the one who ran to her first, sobs ripping through my chest.
Then I realized, that this man, this ugly, horrible man, was the same man who killed my mother.
"Jo, what's goin-," Soda was cut short by the sound of gunshots. As soon as the gun went off, I threw myself at the man, not caring about the consequences. For the millionth time, I was grateful that Darry had advised me to carry a knife ever since Johnny killed the Soc.
Several more gunshots were fired. I heard someone fall to the ground with a thud. I thought I felt something graze my shoulder, but I took no notice. Adrenaline was fueling a fire that had been building and building for all those years.
I sank the switchblade deep into the man's chest, before rolling aside, panting heavily, my vision blurring.
That was when I saw it. Soda was lying in a heap, breathing mighty hard. I crawled over to him, not trusting myself to stand. As soon as I reached him, my heart sank. A pool of blood was beginning to seep through his fingers. His fingers that were pressing down hard on his stomach.
"Sodapop, hang in there," I whispered, pulling his head into my lap as I pressed down as hard as I dared, begging the blood to stop.
"What the -," Steve stopped short when he saw us. His face went paler than I'd ever seen before.
"Get help," I whispered. I think he heard me, because he turned tail and ran down the stairs. Michelle was wailing where she sat on the bed, her face pinched up in a look of despair. As much as I wanted to comfort her, I had my hands full.
Soda's eyes fluttered a bit, his face turning a sickly pale shade.
"Soda, hey, talk to me, c'mon now," I begged.
"It…hurts," he wheezed. He started coughing, causing more blood to seep through my fingers.
"Jo, are you okay?" Mary's panicked voice rang.
"Go in the bathroom, grab all the towels and throw them to me," I commanded. I heard her footsteps and a moment later, she threw them at me, refusing to open her eyes.
"Thanks, Mar, now go outside and wait for the Ambulance," I ordered. She nodded and left, her face a pale shade of green.
I bunched a towel up and pressed it against Soda's stomach, my own turning when I saw it turn red very quickly.
"They're on their way," Steve informed me, throwing himself down at my side. "How can I help?"
"Get me a wet cloth," I said, my voice shaking. I was getting dizzy. I wasn't afraid of blood, but this…this was too much blood.
Steve did as I said, a moment later, returning with a soaking wet cloth. I gently pressed it to Soda's forehead, keeping the other pressed tightly against the wound.
"You…you're bleeding," Steve said, his voice shaky.
"Just grazed, I'm fine," I snapped. "Make sure Mickey wasn't hit," I added as I quickly switched to another towel. Soda had tears streaming down his face, but thankfully, he was still awake.
"It hurts," he wailed. The sound broke my heart.
"I know, honey, I know," I said softly, begging for a miracle.
It seemed like a lifetime for the paramedics to arrive. By the time they did, Soda was unconscious, his head still planted in my lap. I was going into shock or something, because they were forced to move me. I faintly recall one of the paramedics saying something, before scooping me up in his arms and carrying me away.
The rest was a haze. I think they loaded me into the ambulance, or maybe they put me in Steve's car. I couldn't remember.
What I did remember, was begging someone to bring my sisters along. They needed me. They…