Four Days Until Dawn
Installment 6
Dawn Breaks
XXX
The storm passed during the night, but by the morning the damage was done.
"It's too wet out. All work canceled for the day. We'll try to make up the time this weekend. Sorry, Darrel."
"That's okay, Mr. Campbell. See you tomorrow." Darry hung up the phone, glancing at the calender.
The mortgage was due on the 20th, the electric due on the 15th, and the water due on the 18th. He'd have to hope Pony's hospital bill wouldn't come in for another few weeks - that or he'd have to ask for an extension on the payments. No matter what, he'd have to put in a ton of hours at the warehouse just to stay afloat. Still, he did what he had to do.
Breakfast was underway, sausage cooking in one pan with eggs going in another. Toast was in the toaster. Darry was tired of cereal and wanted something more substantial to sooth his appetite.
Down the hall, the door creaked. Soda appeared, pulling his arm down behind his back, stretching.
"So how'd you sleep?"
The question was rhetorical. On both faces, lines encircled tired eyes, voices were raspy and each had the look of fatigue sculpting their features. Constant worry was the devil's paint.
"I don't remember sleeping, exactly. I'm fine, don't worry bout me." He picked up Darry's cup of coffee by mistake and took a gulp, wincing as the sharp liquid constricted his throat. He blinked and took another swallow, hating the taste yet too tired to get something else. Darry grinned and silently poured in some milk and a bit of sugar, removing the bitter bite he knew black coffee gave.
"You look like hell, little man." Darry remarked. Soda's eyebrow went up.
"You should talk. Going in to work?" Soda noticed the time, if Darry was going, he was going to be late.
"Nope. Boss canceled the job today. Too wet."
"Guess Saturday is your make-up day then," Soda mumbled, knowing Darry's routine by now.
"Yup. Here, eat." Darry slid a plate under Soda's nose and made a plate for himself. They ate in silence, Darry noting the drooping eyes of his younger brother throughout. He'd been a trooper, staying at Ponyboy's side constantly unless forced to work or sleep. However, there was only so much a sixteen year old could physically do, and he knew Soda was spent.
"Go back to bed." Darry said after breakfast was eaten.
Soda shook his head, opening his eyes wide as if that would do the trick. "Nope. I'm gonna go shower and shave though, try to clean up a little, feel human again. I'll get the dishes when I'm done."
Darry watched as Soda headed to the bathroom, silently shaking his head at his middle brother's stubbornness. That trait only deepened with Ponyboy, who could be far worse in his hardheadedness when he chose to. As the water ran in the bathroom, Darry went to check on his still-sleeping brother.
He was curled up on his side, a pillow tucked along his back where Soda had laid. His fingers slowly flexed along the mattress, restless motion stubbornly refusing to be held captive to slumber. He wondered what was going on in that head, what he was dreaming - if he was dreaming at all.
Still, it worried him. This was the fourth day of laying in this state. He hadn't had anything to eat, and the little liquid he'd taken in measured just a few ounces delivered by syringe. With nothing going in, nothing was coming out either. That couldn't be good on the system. Darry started to plan when he'd throw in the towel and finally admit defeat, taking his youngest brother back to the hospital to get the proper care he needed - even if it meant he'd lose everything in the process.
The water shut off down the hall and Soda popped his head out.
"Darry, we got anymore shaving cream?"
Darry got up and went to the bathroom, checking under the cabinet where the extra cans were stored. There were none. Darry sighed, knowing he'd have to find the money to pick some up. He had enough in pocket change for at least one can. That would hopefully tide them over for a week.
"Nope. I'll have to get some later today. You'll have to use soap."
Without a word of complaint, Soda reached into the shower and grabbed the bar, bubbling it to a lather to spread on his face.
"Shit!" he muttered a few minutes later. Soda cursing like that was rare and warranted investigating.
Darry went back to the bathroom to see what was up and noticed the smear of dark pink mixing with the soap.
"You okay?" Darry asked.
"Yeah, fine, just a nick. Damn straight razor."
"Straight razor? Where the heck is your safety razor?" Darry wondered, looking around the bathroom.
"That thing's blunt as a butter knife. I got to get new refills for it."
Soda held some tissue to his cheek as he leaned heavily against the sink, one hand propping him up. A moment later, the pressure finally staunched the flow.
Darry sighed as he watched his brother sway slightly. "Soda, enough already. Go back to bed. You can get all gussied up later when you can see straight."
"But -"
"Uh-uh. No 'but's' about it. Go. Sleep in my room. I ain't leaving the house and I'll call you if anything happens. Now go on."
Soda wanted to sleep in his room closer to Ponyboy, but even he knew how futile it was to argue with his older brother. Soda washed the soap off his face and toweled himself dry, then headed off to Darry's bed for some shut eye. Sleep beckoned him before his head hit the pillow.
The phone rang not long afterward and Darry crossed the house to answer it before the second ring sounded. He didn't want Soda woken up now that he had finally gone back to bed again. Darry wondered who was calling, hoping it wasn't Soda's boss wondering where he was. As far as he knew, Soda was off today. As bad as they needed the money, if Soda somehow went in, he'd probably end up fired since even holding a pencil would be a major feat.
"Hello?"
"Yes, sir, I'm Dr. Steinman. Nurse Pendelton asked me to call about, um, Ponyboy Curtis. Have I reached his guardian?"
Warm relief rippled through him as he held the phone. This probably wouldn't be free nor would it be cheap, but he was relatively sure it would be less than what the hospital would charge.
"Yes, I'm his guardian. Darrel Curtis."
"Marge told me a little about Ponyboy's condition and asked if I could look in on him. Mentioned something about a court issue also. They want him to testify?"
"That's what our social worker is wanting. He's not even awake, I don't know how he'll be able to do this."
"Well, more than likely he won't be able to. I can't really tell anything until I examine him. Would this evening be a good time? I could come to your house sometime after seven."
Darry's house versus his office. He hadn't heard of any doctor making house calls in ages, and never in his neighborhood. What weighed heavily on his mind was he knew he didn't have any money on hand to pay the doctor if he did come over.
"Darrel?"
"Yes sir, I'm still here. I uh, I'd like to have you see him – yes, but how much would the bill come to? I'm sorry to be so blunt, but I'd like to know ahead of time. So I'd have enough. Sir."
He quickly went through his options.... a bank loan which he probably wouldn't get, borrow from Tim if Tim was feeling agreeable to it, or – and he hated doing it, selling their mother's last possession ... the piano that was left specifically for Ponyboy to inherit. The old man at the piano shop had always told Darry if he wanted to offload the instrument, he'd pay handsomely for it; but Darry had always said no. But now it was coming to where he had little choice. Well, he could sell his truck. Damn, this was giving him a headache. He rubbed his eyes as the doctor gave his price.
"I'll just come over and see him. We'll talk expense later, lets just get that young man taken care of first. So, is seven okay?"
What Darry didn't know was that Marge Pendelton had been one of Ron Steinman's best nurses years ago, before she left to work at Tulsa General. The two had a professional bond that was at times thicker than some family relationships. They both wanted to help patients – cost be damned, simple as that. Dr. Steinman had been used to living simply, and had no call to change it. He charged only the bare minimum and was very flexible with payments.
"They need a break, Ron. Can you help them? For me?" Marge implored. Of course he would.
Marge had told Ron about the boy, about his heroics in Windrixville, about all the things Johnny had revealed to her about Ponyboy and his family and how hard they had it as he lay there - weakening himself, refusing to be silent as he knew his own time was coming to an end.
Darry couldn't believe what he was hearing. A doctor was coming over to see his brother, and there would be no up-front bill? "Sure, Dr. Steinman. Seven is fine. Here's my address...."
Darry rattled off the address and hung up, amazed. Still, he worried. He'd been told too many times that if it seemed too good to be true, it probably was. Just this once, though... he hoped it would be real. He ran his fingers through his hair and went to check on Ponyboy. At least he wouldn't need to shave today. He was needing another bath though, getting a little ripe in the thin pajamas they'd dressed him in days ago. Maybe later, after Soda'd had some rest, they'd manage it.
Darry passed the morning cleaning the house so that when the doctor came he wouldn't think of them as typical hoods who didn't know how to clean up or lacked pride in themselves. Laundry that never seemed to be done was washed, dried, folded and put away. Dishes that piled up even when no one ate were cleaned and set in the rack to dry, and clutter that seemed to appear out of nowhere was put in the can by the curb. His mother used to say there were elves that wandered the house searching for something to upend when no one was looking. When he was really little and didn't know any better, he looked for those elves – but never found them.
Despite the years of messiness, headache and misadventures her three boys got into, she never seemed upset about the clutter. Now Darry knew a little better how hard his parents worked to make their house a home, and how hard it was to keep three boys on the straight and narrow – especially when the road was often filled with potholes, ruts, and bends unseen. He could never replace them, but hoped one day Ponyboy would see how hard he worked to give him and Sodapop something of a decent life too.
Finally Darry looked around. It all seemed done. There was nothing left to do unless he wanted to paint the walls or fix the screen on the door, and he was too tired for that. With Soda asleep in his bed, the only place left was the armchair, so that's where he went. He needed a little shut eye himself, hoping that when he woke, he'd have some answers.
Answers to what to do with Ponyboy.
A while later - long or short, he didn't know, but later nonetheless, he felt someone nudging his leg.
"Hey Darry … hey … Darry, wake up."
Darry opened his eyes ... and found his answer staring back at him.
XXX
The End
Calla Lily Rose