Darry was sitting on the edge of my bed, explaining why now that I was awake there were two cops at the door wanting to talk to me. I knew that they must have already talked to Pony, and I couldn't imagine what more I could possibly add to what he had told them. I hadn't really even been able to see anything. "Didn't Pony already tell them everything?"

"Yes. But they want to talk to you."

Why? Didn't he tell you, I didn't even really know they killed somebody 'til when Pony told me."

"Yeah, Pony told us about what happened, and we believe him. He said you weren't at the park 'til after they already killed the Soc, that you didn't see it, and that you were gone by the time they left."

"That's right, kind of. I was there before the fight but I couldn't see anything. I didn't want Pony to know I followed him yet. I never even saw the kid 'til after Pony yelled at me to leave and I saw the cops pick him up. But I didn't know he was dead. So why do I have to talk to them?"

"We believe you, Scout. Only there is one problem, there's one thing the cops won't let go."

"What's that?"

He hesitated. "They found the murder weapon in your pocket."

I had forgotten about that. Johnny's knife. I had taken it. I guessed I'd better talk.

"Can you stay in here when they come in?" I was remembering Darry with the cops the night our parents died, how I had felt like he wouldn't let them get past him and take me. I wanted him with me.

"I can stay in the room but I'm not supposed to talk to you while they ask you questions."

I thought about it. "OK, if you can stay. But really, Darry. I don't know anything."

"Just tell them the truth, Scout. We know you didn't do anything to that Soc."

The cops came in and they asked me a lot of questions, about that night and the time at the church, and wrote down my answers in a notebook. I tried to remember the details, and I wanted to cry when they asked me about running away from the house and I had to tell about Darry hitting Ponyboy. I looked at him as though I was his executioner and he looked sad too, but also proud that I was telling the truth.

I told them about the Socs coming in the blue car and yelling at Pony. I told them about Pony and Johnny running away (leaving out the part about me going to Buck's for Darry and Dally's benefits.) I told them how I had taken the knife from Johnny in case I needed to protect myself when I was hitchhiking home, and that other than taking it from his pocket and putting it into mine, I had never touched it. They seemed happy with my answers and after an hour or so they left, even telling me to feel better. I was afraid to look at Darry when they were gone.

"You did good, Scout," his voice came from across the room.

I looked around at him. I didn't know what to say. He had told me to tell the truth. "I'm sorry I had to tell," I said.

"That night…" he started. "I don't even know how it happened. I have wanted to take it back since that second. I hate myself for it. I would never, ever hit you. You know that, right?"

I nodded. "It scared me, when it happened. But I wasn't running away from you, Darry. I was running to Pony, to make him come back. I heard you and Soda fighting earlier, when he was late, about him being a bad example for me. I didn't want him getting in trouble because of me."

Darry looked miserable. "I never want to be someone you're scared of, baby. It makes me feel like Dallas or something."

I almost yelled. "No way, Darry. Don't even say that. You're nothing like Dallas to me. And I'm not scared of you." I motioned for him to come over; I was still connected to far too many tubes and wires to go to him.

He came over to the bed and looked down at me. "I guess I just kind of lost it," he said. "I want to do a good job with you and Pony – sometimes the pressure gets to me. I lost it."

"It's OK, Darry. We're all feeling the stress. Pony and I lost it too, at the church. We said terrible things to each other. It's lucky we didn't hit each other too."

"Yeah, he told me about it."

"I guessed that. Thanks for deciding to keep me, by the way."

Darry chuckled and squeezed my hand. "I guess maybe all of us were holding a lot of stuff in. I never knew you were worrying about money so much. I'm sorry nobody told you about that."

"I must be costing you a lot of money, being in here." I remembered my conversation with Steve.

"Scout, it's not your job to worry about that."

"But Steve said…"

"Steve needs to learn to keep his mouth shut," he said. "And anyway, Steve is not in charge of the Curtis family finances, I am. So don't listen to him."

"It's just… I'm a part of the family too. I just wish you guys would not treat me like such a baby. You never even think to include me in decisions, and stuff. I think it's scarier for me to have no idea what is going on. I really thought our only money was from you and Soda working. I didn't know about the money you get from the state. Nobody tells me anything and then I have to sit around and stress out about it."

"I had no idea how much you were thinking about all that. I guess maybe because when I was twelve I didn't think about any of that, because when I was your age I had Mom and Dad around. We've all got to communicate better. Pony told us about you doing too much of the chores too. We talked about it and you're right, none of us can remember vacuuming or really cleaning anything but dishes since they died. It was just getting done and we never thought about the fact that it was you doing it all. We're gonna work on making it more fair. We all have to remember that you're just twelve. We didn't have to deal with any of the responsibilities you do when we were in junior high. We're gonna work on it."

"That sounds good," I said. "Hey, Darry?"

"Yeah?"

"I just remembered something. I forgot to tell the cops something about the knife."

"What?" He looked worried.

"I did touch it one other time. I cut my hair off with it."

Darry laughed. "I don't think that's against any laws."