I know this is a couple days late, but I didn't think of this till Christmas Eve, and then I didn't have time to write it till yesterday. Think of it as an extension of Christmas. :)
This is from Darry's point of view on Christmas Eve. He's 10 years old (almost 11), Soda is 7, and Pony is 4.
Happy Holidays!!
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I walked carefully down the hallway, trying to feel my way in the dark so I didn't have to turn a light on. I knew Sodapop and Ponyboy would be watching for any sign of Santa and the hall light streaming under their doors would be a dead giveaway. Mom had already had enough trouble getting them to sleep the first time—she didn't need me waking them up.
I'd found out the truth about Santa a few weeks ago. Seeing him in every department store we went into had gotten me thinking. I'd asked Dad before and he'd always told me that Santa had helpers who went to the stores for him, but lately I'd been starting to think that didn't add up. If he could fly around the whole world and deliver presents to every kid in one night, why couldn't he go to all the stores in a month?
So, I'd asked Mom the same question and she'd told me the truth. But my brothers were still young enough to believe, and they'd spent the week planning how they were going to stay awake all night. Soda and I had tried it last year, but we'd fallen asleep before midnight. It was one in the morning now, so I figured I was safe to get a glass of water without being in too much danger of waking them up.
As I got closer to the kitchen, I heard a shuffling noise ahead. Thinking it was Mom or Dad putting out "Santa's" presents, I froze. I might know the truth this year, but I doubted they wanted me bursting in on them anyway, even if it wasn't on purpose.
I listened, but I didn't hear the noise again so I ventured forward. I was just rounding the corner into the kitchen when something big flew into me. One second I was standing up, the next I was pinned to the ground. My head slammed onto the floor on the way down, giving me an instant headache. I wrestled with the weight on top of me, but I couldn't get free. It was too dark to tell what was going on and I was starting to get anxious. I'd heard stories of houses getting robbed on Christmas Eve, but I never thought they'd come here.
"Santa's smaller than I thought," a voice said above me. As soon as I heard that, I realized what was going on and I groaned.
"Um, I don't think this is Santa…" a second voice chimed in hesitantly.
The weight came off me and immediately I jumped up and flicked on the light switch. I whirled around to face my brothers. They were both staring at me, eyes wide.
"What do you think you're doing?" I hissed. Pain pulsed in my head, adding to my aggravation.
"Uh, hi Darry," Soda started, giving me an innocent smile. "What're you doing up?"
"I asked you first." I took a step closer and they both backed up.
"We were waiting for Santa to come," Pony said softly. I looked between him and Soda, who was trying his best to keep the innocent look on his face, and knew who was behind this ridiculous plan.
"Well, he ain't gonna come now," I shot back, glaring at my middle brother. "I don't think trying to tackle Santa counts as being good. It ain't too late for him to change your presents to a lump of coal."
Instantly, Pony started crying and flung his arms around Soda, who didn't look too far off from tears himself. I sighed. I knew I'd been mean, but my head was killing me. All I'd wanted was a glass of water.
"What's going on here?"
I turned around and gulped; Mom and Dad were standing a few feet away and they didn't look happy.
"Darry's mean!" Pony wailed. Sometimes it was such a pain having younger siblings.
Mom went over to Pony and Soda, who was crying too, now, and pulled them both into her arms. "Darrel, what happened?" Dad asked. I knew I was in trouble if he was using my full first name, but I also knew this wasn't my fault. Well, the tackling part wasn't.
"I was trying to get a glass of water and they tackled me," I said, trying to defend myself. "They were waiting up for Santa."
"You two were hiding out in the kitchen?" Dad asked, turning to my brothers. I saw Soda nod his head into Mom's shoulder.
"He—he said Sa—Santa w—won't come n—now!" Pony bawled.
I looked down at the ground as I felt both my parents turn to frown at me. "Darry, why would you tell them something like that?" Mom sighed.
I shrugged. "I was mad. I hit my head when they knocked me down and it hurts." I saw Soda look up at me timidly at that and I suddenly felt awful when I saw how sorry he looked. "Look, I'm sorry I yelled at you," I said. "Santa will still come if you're sorry." I thought that if I could get them calm and back to bed, Mom and Dad might not be so mad at me for making them cry.
Pony pulled away from Mom and launched himself at me, wrapping himself around my legs. "I'm sorry, Darry," he sniffled.
"Me too," Soda whispered. "If we go to bed, will Santa still come?" He looked hopefully at Mom, who smiled back at him.
"Of course he will," she answered. "But, you have to go right away, and no more mischief." My brothers both nodded and ran down the hall.
I chanced a glance at Mom and Dad and was relieved to see they didn't look angry anymore. "Sorry," I muttered again anyway, just to be safe.
"It's okay, kiddo," Dad said, pulling me into a hug. "How's your head?" I felt him move his hand around the back of my head and I winced a little when he touched the place where I'd hit it.
"It still hurts," I admitted.
"Well, you're not bleeding, so you should be fine. We'll get you some aspirin and you'll probably feel better in the morning." I nodded and followed him into the kitchen.
When I'd taken an aspirin and gotten the water I'd come for in the first place, I headed down the hall. After putting my water on my nightstand, I started to climb into bed, but stopped when I noticed a lump. I carefully peeled back the covers to reveal Ponyboy curled into a ball, fast asleep. I shook my head and climbed in next to him. If he was already out, I wasn't planning on waking him up and risk getting him crying again. The bed was big enough for both of us.
I was just settling in when I heard my door creak open. Turning in that direction, I saw Sodapop standing beside my bed, his stuffed bear in his hand. "What is it, Soda?" I asked, propping myself up on my elbow. "You're supposed to be in bed, remember?"
He looked at me for a second before answering. "I'm sorry we hurt your head, Darry," he said quietly. Even in the dark I could see the worry in his eyes.
There wasn't any point making him feel worse about the whole thing. "It's okay," I said, ruffling his hair. I waited for him to leave, but he kept standing there. "Soda, do you want to sleep here tonight?" I asked. I already had Pony. What was one more?
He smiled a little and nodded. I pulled back the covers and he climbed under, nestling in right next to me. Pony shifted in his sleep and I felt him grab onto my pajamas. I smiled, thinking about how their faces would look the next morning when they saw that Santa really did come. And I couldn't quite deny that I was just as excited as they were.
