Their beat up blue truck that had more rust than paint on it and the back windows were missing sat in the driveway. The front door was open, leaving the screen door closed. An old cracked clay flower pot of her mother's was knocked over on the porch though the plants were long dead.
Their house wasn't much. It was a one level house, small wooden porch in the front, no grass in the wire-fenced yard, the garden outside the kitchen window non-existent. It was a golden yellow color, something her mother had decided on long before she was born, and the paint was chipping.
Brenda had walked as fast as she ever remembered walking from Phil's Diner, knowing she'd be losing pay for this, and jogged up the steps, through the front door, slinging her apron onto the ripped old chair by the door. Leaning over the back of the couch in the middle of the room she saw Sonny there, eyes wide open, glaring at the corner of the room. His leg, covered by washed out jeans, was slick with dark red blood that looked almost brown and his right leg, starting at the knee, was bent sort of funny.
"Told you not to fuckin' call her!" he snapped.
Brenda followed his gaze to the corner of the room, which he had been giving his murderous glance to since she walked in, and saw some unknown man standing in the corner, broad shouldered and well built, hands shoved uncomfortably in his front jean pockets. He lifted his eyes from the ground which he had been staring hard at, probably trying to dig up the strength not to whack her brother, and met her eyes.
His eyes were like nothing she'd seen before. Most people had really bland eyes, if you asked her. Nothing to marvel at. Blue, green, brown. Occasionally she'd spy grey eyes, which were kind of pretty lookin'. But his were something to look at. Like this glass art her mother had shown her when she was a child and her mother had started goin' through another arts and crafts faze. They were pretty, but a little cold. Nothing compared to her brother's, but still.
"You are?" she asked, standing back up, one hand on a jutted out hip as she leaned back against her dad's old afghan on the couch and vaguely wished she had cleaned the house this morning.
He cleared his throat and in a nice deep drawl said; "Darrel Curtis. Was working at the sight with your brother."
She lifted her chin slightly in an acknowledgment.
"One of the carpenters?"
"I was roofing the house. We were workin' a job together. He-"
"Some bastard shook my fuckin' ladder!" Sonny shouted.
"Sonny, shut up." Brenda rolled her eyes at her brother, who scowled in return, and she turned to look at Darrel again.
"He fell off the ladder, whole thing came down on him, got his leg real good. Boss told me to drive his truck back here, since he was refusin' to go to the hospital."
"Damn straight. I ain't goin to no hospital. I'm fine, Brenda. Just a flesh wound."
Brenda gave Sonny a dry look.
"You're staining the couch. Sure as hell don't look like no flesh wound to me. You probably broke your leg and need stitches."
"Which I can handle myself. I don't need to pay an arm and a leg for some fuckin' doc to tell me what I already know."
Brenda breathed a sigh through her nose, shaking her head. He was right, of course. They couldn't afford to just go running to the hospital for things. Especially since she'd lose pay for today and Sonny probably wouldn't be working again until his leg was better. Perfect.
Brenda turned to Darrel again.
"Thanks for bringing him back here. I can probably handle whatever the hell he broke myself." She looked around the kitchen.
"You want a coke or something?" she asked, noticing Sonny wasn't the only one swettin' bullets in the heat.
"I don't wanna put you out."
"I think we can handle giving up a thing a pepsi."
Darrel managed a small smile and nodded his thanks. Brenda knelt in front of the fridge and grabbed a bottle from the back, handing it to him.
"You losin' pay for this?" she asked.
Darrel shook his head.
"Will be if I don't head back soon, but I got a free pass to take him back."
"Well then, let me drive you back over there. I think Sonny can survive until I get back. Not everyone needs to lose pay today." Brenda said, snatching the keys from the coffee table.
Darrel's eyes widened a bit, like he realized that he had in fact called her from work.
"Glory, I just thought he shouldn't be alone. Now I get why he didn't want me botherin' to call you." He said as they headed to the truck.
Brenda shook her head, giving him a small smile as she started it up, backing out of the drive-way.
"Naw, he would've given you trouble anyways. Sonny thinks he's unstoppable. Tough, you know? Which he is, but damn, he broke his leg. Sure, he didn't want you callin' me, for the pay reasons, but you should've anyways. Sonny can't be on his own for long when he gets hurt. Horrible patient."
Darrel leaned back in his seat, taking a sip of Pepsi as she lit a cigarette, hanging her hand out the window.
"Sounds it. No offense. He's not a very…" he trailed off, looking for the words.
"Reasonable person?" she suggested.
Darrel nodded his head.
"He's not. Gets it from our old man, I guess."
They were quiet then, as she followed his instructions to the job site. When she pulled in, he opened the door, slamming it shut as it screeched, in need of oiling. He leaned in through the window.
"Well, thanks for the drink. Hope your brother gets better real soon. He's a good worker."
Brenda nodded her head.
"Thanks for bringing him home, man. I don't need no hospital bills right now, with him being out of work."
Darrel nodded his head and backed away with a short wave over his shoulder, adjusting his tool belt as he walked, taking a big gulp of Pepsi before crushing the can and ditching it in a nearby waste can.
Brenda backed out of the lot, heading back to the house. She wasn't surprised that when she got back Sonny had moved, managing to snag a remaining bear can from the fridge and sitting on the couch again, watching the TV.
"Where's Grams?" he asked.
"If she's not in, she's probably out with the old women down the street, you know they do that afternoon tea thing on Ethel Hamilton's porch."
Sonny nodded his head, flicking to another channel.
"There's shit on." He said.
"Tough luck, brother." Brenda told him, kneeling down beside his legs, which rested uncomfortably on the coffee table, several items from around the house beside her.
She picked up the glass of water, setting it on the coffee table, taking a rag from the kitchen and a pair of scissors. There was no way she was going to get the blood stains out of his jeans so she cut just above the blood.
"James' jeans." Sonny said with a maddening grin.
Brenda rolled her eyes.
"Of course. Because you've gotten blood on all your own jeans you don't own no more pairs."
Sonny gave what she knew was a proud grin. Sonny was known around town for his fights, just like a lot of Greasers. It was how they earned their names, most of 'em, their fighting. Unless you were that kid, Buck, that Sonny used to hang with, who got it for his drinking and riding. Sonny'd been in the cooler so much sometimes she felt he was rentin' a room there.
She dunked the rag in the water and tried to clean away the still trickling blood. Sonny frowned, taking the slight discomfort. He had a big gash runnin' down his leg, probably from the ladder falling on him. After that she picked up a box of matches, the needle and the thread. Looping the fishing line through one end of the needle, she struck a match and held the flame under the other end of her grandmother's sewing needle, sterilizing and whatnot. With a warning glance to her brother, she started stitching him up.
Sonny's scarred hands clenched at the couch, but he kept a straight face, his lips thinning and blinking his eyes repeatedly, as if blinking off the pain. Brenda's fingers were a little hot from the needle and she frowned herself. Making quick work of stitching up her brother, as she had done for him and some of the others since Sonny had once begged her to do it after his first fight when she was six, so their mother wouldn't yell at him, she laid the needle down, snipping the line with the scissors.
"I gotta brace your leg, Son."
"My knee cap in place, at least?"
"Seems to be. I think it's more the leg bone that's broken."
Sonny swore under his breath. He wouldn't be walking for a while either, let alone working. Brenda got up, going to the kitchen and yanking the rod of the curtains in the kitchen down, since one was already broken anyways. She grabbed some electrical tape and a shirt from Roy's room before heading back to her brother. The rods were a little long, but she figured maybe that'd offer more support. She's never really braced a leg before, but she'd seen her mother do it before. She lined up the rods on either side of his leg, going just a little above the knee, and taped them in place. Ripping the shirt into strips she used it to tie the rods at the top by the knee and the bottom, just above his ankle.
"Gimme your beer."
"Why?"
"Sonny."
Sonny groaned.
"Do you have to?"
"Don't be a little girl. Hand it over."
Sonny muttered some curses at her and she tipped the beer over a little, letting a tiny stream of alcohol run down over his cut. Sonny flinched, his leg jerking, but tried to keep himself otherwise controlled. After a moment, she handed him back the bottle and stood.
Sonny was scowling at her.
"Don't look at me like that. We both lost pay today because you fell off a goddamn ladder. You coulda gotten yourself killed, Sonny." She said.
He shook his head, turning back to look at the TV.
Brenda sighed, tightening her ponytail. She leaned against the counter in the kitchen.
"I'm gonna head to work again, see if maybe I'll just get a decrease in today's pay instead of calling the whole day off. We need to get groceries today." She muttered before leaving the house with the keys, Sonny blaring the TV behind her.
It was late when she got home. Crickets were goin' off outside and all the lights in the house, as well as many others on the street, were on. The radio was blaring some Elvis song, the TV could be heard from the street from some kids' show. A couple was fighting down the street, arguing so loud she could hear it over all the noise comin' from her own place and it sent all the dogs barking.
She opened the screen door and headed inside. She normally came home around midnight, what with working as a waitress at a tavern a few blocks over, The Whipple. Sonny was sitting on the couch, beer in hand again with a few littering the floor. Roy was lying sideways on the chair by the door, drinking his own. Brenda knocked his feet as she went by. Thankfully it seemed Kay and Connie had gone grocery shopping after school with some money in the jar they kept, obviously Sonny requested they get lots of beer since he'd be sitting around all day. Though considering the girls' age, Connie probably nicked the bunch while Kay paid for the other groceries. Concerning the twins, Kay was working on her homework, sitting on the floor as she worked at the coffee table in front of the TV, Sonny's legs on her sides. Connie was nowhere to be seen, probably out somewhere she shouldn't be.
"Where's your sister?" Brenda asked, bending down to kiss Kay's head.
Kay shrugged, pointing to the front door. Out.
"Say when she'd be back?"
Kay shook her head again, eyes trained on a complicated math problem. Kay wasn't book smart, she was artistically smart. Sonny and Connie were street smart. James was…Brenda didn't know what they hell he was smart in. Girls? Guess that's kind of biology, if she really reached. Bennie on the other hand was book smart. Kid started reading real early and did it real well too. Roy didn't care too much 'bout anything but he was a good cook.
"James is out too. Heard he's got some new chick." Roy said.
"Jamie's always got a new girl." Bennie said, coming from his room.
"You always let these kids run wild, Brenda. They're gonna end up dead in an alley way." Her grandmother snapped in her little winded voice, sharp eyes trained on her crossword.
"Yes, Grams."
"Your mother never would've let this happen."
"I know, Grams."
Brenda went into the kitchen, searching for a glass and found the dishes piled against the counter still. She sighed, her hair out of its pony tail she raked her fingers through its tangles. She rubbed under her eyes, no doubt there were some dark circles there already.
She turned to look at the living room.
"Kay, baby, you almost finished with that math homework?"
Kay bobbed her head, still intent on the problem. She never did give up on anything.
"Bennie, help her out, would you?"
"I don't know her math!" Bennie protested, box of new cookies sitting in his lap as he settled in front of the TV.
"Ben…"
"Hey," Sonny barked, knocking Bennie in the head with his good leg, "do what she tells you, punk ass kid."
Bennie shot Sonny a look but scrambled over to help Kay. Bennie was good with school. Besides, you just don't mess with Sonny.
"Where're the other two, huh? They know the rules, it's a school night." Brenda said.
Sonny shrugged, taking a chug of beer.
"Don't got a clue. James' got that new girl on his arm, like I said, and Lord knows where Con runs off to when you're not lookin'."
Brenda sighed, shoving her hands roughly through her hair, shaking her head.
"No one bothered to do the dishes today?" she grunted.
"Yeah, let me just wobble over there." Sonny muttered.
Brenda spun and picked up a bowl, launching it at his head.
"Fuck!"
"Don't be a smart ass!"
"Don't fucking throw things at me!"
"Stop pissing me off and I wouldn't have to."
Sonny gave her a look that would make anyone who hadn't grown up with him, not to mention currently had two functioning legs, tremble. She sneered at him and turned grumpily back to the sink. Sonny was the only one she could yell at. She couldn't yell at Kay, you just don't do that, Roy had just fallen asleep and Bennie was too young to yell at for stupid things without making her feel bad. And you just can't talk back to Grams, she'd whack you good with her cane until you couldn't remember your own name. So she started working on the dishes. She was halfway through when Kay appeared, silent as ever, at her side, giving her a one armed hug around the waist before heading off to Brenda's room to sleep. Kay had been sleeping in her bed ever since she was a kid, since Connie kicked kinda hard in her sleep and Kay always woke up with bruises the side of the whole south on her. Kay got real scared sometimes at night if she wasn't within reach of someone and she woke up. Bennie migrated beds. Kid could fall asleep anywhere, Brenda swore, she even found him on the counter once, head in the sink, sleeping away.
"Son, throw something at the kid. Send him and Ben off to bed, would ya?"
Sonny more than willingly complied, finding a shoe on the ground and aiming well at Roy's head. With a yelp a little more girly than he'd ever admit to, her kid brother flipped off the chair, crashing to the floor. Bennie gave a loud cackling laugh and Roy launched up, chasing him down the hall with the shoe raised for combat. Brenda could hear multiple thuds coming from one of the rooms.
She made quick work of the dishes and stuck them back into the cabinets before making her way towards the front window by the porch, turning off the radio. Sonny shut off the TV and reclined back on the couch, where he'd probably make a habit of sleeping on until he could walk. Brenda steadied Grams as she stood, setting her newspaper down and walking with her cane to her own room.
"Bren, I'll wait up for 'em. If they're not home by the time you get up you can whack 'em." Sonny said, stretching his arms.
Brenda hesitated, taking a look outside again, crossing her arms over her chest before nodding and heading to her own room, finding Kay waiting up for her, as she usually did. Brenda burrowed under the blankets, throwing an arm over Kay and closing her eyes. If those two kids weren't home before morning, God help them…