A Place Deep Within

Second Chapter - Lie enough and it becomes the truth

October 15 - morning

His green eyes blink. I wonder if he heard me, what I said, but he doesn't say anything about it. Instead, he takes the lighter from the coffe table and disappears out onto the porch. I look at Two-Bit.

"Ya sure?" he says, stroking his sideburns. Am I? I heard Pony say it. I just can't believe it. No, I'm not sure what he thinks. What would it make him if I really was?

"I hope not," I mumble, loud enough so Two-Bit can hear me. He nods in agreement and we wait. I don't know what Two-Bit's waiting for, but I'm waiting for my brother, and an explanation. There must be a good one. It takes about seven minutes to finish a cigarette, and he's inside again after five. He stops just inside the door, his back catches it so it won't shut. The small gap in the doorway lets in cold air.

"Aren't you doin' breakfast?" he asks me. Like nothing has happened. I rise.

"Yeah."

Pony follows me out in the kitchen and sits down again. My heart throbs and beats fast. I know I need to talk to him, I just don't know what to say. I turn to the stove, the water in the pan is boiling. One of the egg shells has cracked, white scum floats on the surface.

"Pone..." I begin. He lets out a breath. He knows what I want to talk about, and I don't have to say it.

"Soda," he says quietly. "I'm sorry. I was just... confused."

I should be relieved. But I'm not. Confused is one thing. I've been confused a lot of times. But never at something like this. Pony neither. Some things you just don't forget. Like dead parents. I look at him. His eyes are sad, and I hope it's a good sign. I don't want him sad, but sad is normal. I never thought I would love normal.

"How? I mean, what happened, Pone?"

He looks down. "I... for a moment, it felt like... and it was like..." he stutters, still quietly, then looks up again. "Like it hasn't happened. I don't know, Soda. It just felt strange. I wasn't sure..."

"Okay," I reply. There's not much else I can say, not much else I dare say, and he gives me a little smile. I wonder if we'll be able to pretend this never happened.

The eggs are ready and I pour away the hot water and put them in cold water for a few minutes before I give him one. Meanwhile, Two-Bit sneaks back from our living room, looking between us. At Pony, me, back to Pony. He's unsure of what to do, and remains in the doorway.

"Ain't you hungry?" Pony speaks up, looking at him. Two-Bit empties our fridge just as much as we do. As if Pony gave him permission, he sits down.

"Of course I am, kiddo." His smile is genuine, but I can see him watching Pony's head where he got kicked. Nothing can be seen there. The bump and the wound are under his hair, long gone. If he has a scar, it's hidden.

"Your mom doesn't feed you?" Pony teases him, and I shudder at the word Mom, his question still in my mind. Where's Mom and Dad, God, Pony, of course you know.

"Soda's a better cook," Two-Bit says and takes an egg, giving me a suspicious gaze. "I can't believe this egg ain't blue. What've you not done to them, Soda?"

When I'm happy I will color the world. When I'm not, white eggs remain white, I want to answer, but I don't.

XXX

October 15 - evening

Pony's home first, me and Darry arrive at the same time some hours later. Our older brother picks me up at the DX. I tell him about what Pony said in the car, and he clenches his teeth, hard. I'm sure his jaw is hurting when he parks in our driveway. We're still very sensitive when it comes to Pony. I think we always will be.

"Ponyboy?" he shouts while the door closes behind us. I kick off my shoes, tailing behind him. We end up in mine and Pony's room. He lies on the bed, on his back, and his eyes are closed. At first I think he's asleep, but then he turns his head, watching us.

"I know," he says, taking us aback. "Don't look at me that way."

"I'm not," Darry starts. "Pony, about this morning..."

He sits up. Fast. "It wasn't like that," he says. "Can we please talk about somethin' else?"

"It wasn't like what, Pony?" Darry urges. He gives me a glance, and I swallow. He wants me to say something about this, but I can't. I take a safer approach.

"How's school?"

Darry grunts, disapproving of my choice of words, and Pony shruggs.

"Okay."

"The Socs..?" I ask, worried. After all, he was with Johnny that night at the park. Bob Sheldon had a lot of friends.

"Just glares," Pony answers, and I'm sure he's lying. He's too good at it. I see Darry thinks the same, but there are no bruises visible, and Steve didn't mention anything when he came to work after school.

"Steve and Two-Bit hang out with ya during the breaks?" I ask, and Pony nods.

"Johnny wasn't there, though."

We know. We already know Johnny wasn't there. Darry sits down beside him, ready to comfort him when Pony continues. But we're not prepared for what he says, even after the show he put on this morning.

"Maybe he'll be there tomorrow."

I can see Darry stiffen, and I take a step forward.

"Why are you sayin' things like that?" I think I almost scream, but maybe it was just a whisper. Pony looks at me. It must be the concussion, I think, desperately. It's not healed. It's making him confused. That was his word, confused. First about Mom and Dad, then Johnny. Darry frowns at me, stopping me, turning to Pony.

"You know Johnny can't come tomorrow, don't you?" I can tell that he wanted to shake him, but he holds it together. Somehow. Pony gives a brief smile.

"Yeah." Then he looks anxiously at Darry. "No... I mean...why?"

Johnny ain't dead. Johnny ain't dead. He said that when he woke up. Every day he convinced himself, Johnny ain't dead and Dally ain't dead. He needed time and he got time. Finally, finally we realized that it caught up with him. This one step, or how ever many steps backwards, is too much. He should be fine. His doctor told us so. Promised us. The concussion wasn't, isn't, permanent. It's healed.

"Pony..." Darry says, pleading. "Remember the hospital? After..." he looks at me, his eyes asking, and I nod. Continue. You can't make it worse, my gaze tells him. "After the fire... you and Johnny and Dally..."

"Oh," Pony says, like he gets it. "He's at the hospital."

"He was," Darry corrects him. "You remember you went to see him, after the rumble?"

Pony thinks, then nods. "Yeah, I remember. Me and Dally."

"And then?" Darry pushes smoothly.

"Then... then he told us fighting is no good." Pony suddenly puts a hand in front of his eyes. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Just one more thing, Pone. One more thing. What happened after that?"

I can see what Darry wants. He wants Pony to speak the truth. Make it real.

"He told me to stay gold." And this time he looked more confused than ever. "I don't know what he meant by that."

XXX

11 years earlier - spring

"It wasn't me," he says so convincing that I would have believed him if i didn't know it was a lie. But I saw him. His hand grabbed it, his teeth chomped down. He ate it. He still has crumbs on his cheeks as proof.

"Pony," I yell. "It was my cookie! You ate yours and then you ate mine!" I point at the empty plate on the coffee table. Before I left to get something from my room, it had a cookie on it.

"Did not!" he denies.

"Did too!"

"Boys!" Dad says, walking through our screen door. "What's the matter?" His white t-shirt is dirty. He has been playing football with Darry for hours.

My lip trembles. I point. "He took my cookie and ate it!"

"I didn't! It wasn't me!" He shakes his head, light brown-red bangs flying, and looks at Dad for support, but I catch his eyes again.

"Yeah? Then who was it?"

Pony looks around the living room. We're the only ones here, there's no one he can blame. He frowns and starts searching, under the couch, the carpet, on top of the shelves he can reach.

"What are you doin'?" I ask him. He stands on all four, looking under the coffee table and drags out an old newspaper. It's dated a week ago, and Dad hurries to pick it up before Mom sees he'd left it there.

"I'm a detective," Pony explains. "I'm lookin' for your cookie." Dad laughs, folding the newspaper, but I step forward, grabbing Pony's arms and making him stand. I poke him in the stomach at every word.

"It's. In. Your. Tummy!"

He looks down at his shirt, like he's searching for a clue.

"It is?"

"Ponyboy!" I'm really mad now. Dad moves fast and catches my hand.

"Sodapop, don't punch your brother. There's plenty of cookies in the kitchen. Go and ask your Mom for a new one."

"I want my cookie," I say stubbornly. "The one Pony ate." I glare at him, his face crumbles and he starts to cry. Dad picks him up and sits down with him in the armchair. I want to cry too. This ain't fair, and I say it aloud.

"Sodapop," Dad says. "I'll talk to Pony. Just go and grab another cookie. I promise it'll taste the same."

"How do you know?" I mutter as I turn around and walk into the kitchen. Mom stands ready, she's heard it all. She gives me two new cookies.

"Well, Pony had two, didn't he?" she smiles.

"He's lying, Mom, " I tell her. "He took it." I can still hear him sob in Dad's lap.

"It wasn't me. It wasn't," he repeats.

"I know, sweetheart," Mom says. "But he doesn't know it." She sits down on a chair and I sit down next to her. She tries to explain.

"You see, Sodapop, Pony has a lively imagination. Sometimes he thinks about something so hard that it becomes the truth."

I frown, trying to understand.

"You mean he didn't eat my cookie?"

"Oh, yes, he did," she says. "But he thinks he didn't. Please don't be mad at him, Soda. He's not even three. Here, take one more cookie."

"Okay." I can't be mad at him anymore. After all, he's my baby brother. And from that day, I realize he's a good liar. Sometimes he even believes himself, and his lies become the truth. But I can always see it. Always. It's in his eyes. He can never lie to me.

XXX

October 15 - night

Pony's asleep and I crawl slowly out of our bed, afraid of waking him up. In the hallway I hesitate outside of Darry's door. I'm quiet enough, he couldn't hear me. When I heard his voice I was startled.

"Come in, Soda."

I open the door, but I remain where I am.

"Darry," I say. "What should we do? He's acting strange."

"Time," he answers. "We'll give him time."

And I wonder what time can do, when it hasn't done anything yet. Time, I realize, is not a comforting word.

Thank you, thank you for all reviews! They really made my day! I hope you like this chapter too.

Thanks to GoldenScorpio11 for editing.

I also want to say, Yes, Soda and Pony are close. But, there is almost 3 years between them, and sometimes I think it would show. After all, it is a difference between 8 and 11 like in the first flashback. And they are siblings, so of course they fought sometimes during their childhood.