A Place Deep Within

Eleventh Chapter - Because of the snow

October 27 - evening

He's in our room when I finally get home from work. I drop down on the bed, and he turns around in the chair. He knows I want to talk, cause he sighs, then rise to sit down beside me. He takes his pillow and puts it in his lap. Darry's cooking dinner, but I hope we'll have time before he call us. And I hope this will come out right. I've thought about this all day, making customers annoyed at me, Steve even more. But not until something hit me, something I almost had forgot, I knew what to say. I hope it's the solution.

"So... everything's okay?" I ask him, and he nods.

"Yeah, it's fine." He scratch his nose. "I went out runnin' but it's almost too cold now. And I don't have the shape I used to have."

"You're smokin' too much," I say when he digs up his pack. He gives me a quick glance.

"I know." But he lights a stick anyway. I take one too, not caring if it makes him understand. He already know, I can tell from his looks. He's pale, too skinny, too avoiding. Soon it'll be two weeks since I first discovered something's wrong, the first thing he said, and that's what I will hit down to.

"Remember first day in school? After... your concussion?" I know I have to pick my words. I won't mention Dally, or worse, Johnny. I won't make him tell me they're still alive, cause I don't want to hear it again. I don't want him to say he talked to Johnny in school, cause I know he didn't, and if he thinks he did, I would be devastated. I can still pretend I don't believe it. But if he says it to me, then I'll know. And I don't want to know. I just want him better.

His first confusion was about our parents. And he snapped out from that so quickly, and I still don't know why. I can't even believe I let that go. This about Johnny seems to go on forever, but our parents took just as long time as to smoke a cigarette to get to him.

"What about it?" he asks, the ember in the end of the cigarette glowing as he takes a drag. I let out my smoke, picking at a hole in my jeans.

"Remember what you said?"

"Um, no. It was like... two weeks ago." He sounds amused, but I know he's not.

"About Mom and Dad. You asked for them," I remind him, and the way he blushes, I know he remember.

"Oh," he says quiet. "That."

"So why-" I start, but he interrupts.

"Soda, I told you I was just confused. I mean, I never thought they-"

"Pone!" It's my turn to take over, pretending not to hear his lie. "It's not what I want to talk about, okay? I was just wonderin'... you went out onto the porch, and when you came back in, you already knew. I mean, I never said anythin'. You just... changed. How come?"

His cheeks are still a bit red, and he leans forward to ash his smoke in the tray on the nightstand. I wait. I think it takes more than a minute before he replies, and then it come so quietly I almost can't hear.

"It was the snow."

"What snow?"

This time he looks at me, not avoiding my gaze. I'm amazed how green his eyes are. He always tells about the grey in them, but I can't see it.

"That's the thing," he says. "When I went out smokin'. There was no snow. And when I stood there, and saw all the colors in the trees... then I remembered. When... when Mom and Dad went out, it was snowing?" I hear the question, like he's still confused.

"It was," I confirm.

"It was," he repeats. "But that day... before school, I mean, it was no snow. And it couldn't disappear that quickly. It just couldn't. And..." He swallows, near his tears. "And then I just remembered the accident. That they... you know."

Never came back.

I don't ask how he could forget in the first place, and Darry chose that moment to shout at us to come to the table. Pony jumps, then wipes his eyes, and we throw our cigarette butts away.

"Come on," I tell him, "before Darry starts to think we're not hungry and eat it all by himself."

XXX

Thirteen years earlier - winter

My kid brother's just a baby, soon one and a half years old, and I show him his first snow. Actually, Mom says it's his second winter, but I can't remember him playing in the cold white, so I tell her that.

"Oh, he didn't," she laughs. "He was really little then."

"How little? Like this?" I hold up my snowball, not completely round, but it's the best I've ever done. I will keep it forever.

"A bit bigger," Mom says. "No, don't eat the snow, Pony!" She leans down, wipes my brother in his face with her hand. He makes a grimace, trying to turn his head away, but Mom wins of course. Moms always do.

"Snow tastes good," I say. "It tastes like ice cream. Or candy. Right, Pony?"

My brother scoops up more snow in his small red woolen mitten clad hands, puts it in his mouth and smiles.

"It can be dirty," Mom explains. "You shouldn't eat it."

"I love snow," I tell Mom. "It can never be bad."

"Never?" she asks.

"Never ever!"

She laughs again and picks up Pony, who protests wildly. "Come on, boys. Let's get Darry and Dad and build a snowman."

"A big one!" I agree. Pony screams, bend his body down to the snow, and Mom sighs and put him down again.

"All right, Ponyboy," she says. "You really like the snow, don't you?"

XXX

October 27 - night

I can't stop thinking about the snow. We had a snow ball war that day, all seven of us. Even Dally laughed some, but I think he would deny it if we had told him afterwards. He likes his reputation. Liked. God, it still hurts that they're gone.

I don't think any of us actually won the game, but when the evening came, we were all losers. We lost them to the snow, our parents. The police told us about the slippery way, the crash against a tree, the fact that they had no chance at all. No one could've survived that. I'm sorry, boys. Words colder than the air outside. I still remember his eyes, locked at Darry's, avoiding mine and Pony's, trying to comfort us with the sentence but failed. He knew he failed. Of course he knew. I'm sorry couldn't bring them back. And I felt bad for him, for having to bring the bad news. It was a strange evening. Unreal.

They died because of the snow, and I should hate it. But the snow made Pony come back, at least some. I don't know what it means. If we're supposed to show him something to make him come back completely. Like their graves. Johnny's and Dally's. He missed their funerals, he hasn't been at the cemetery yet.

I lean on my elbow, looking down at my sleeping brother and know I can't do that to him. I don't even know what he thinks anymore. I try to remember when he last said something to me about Johnny. It was days ago. Maybe he's already snapped out of it, without me knowing. He's so quiet these days. I hope he's sad. That he recalls the rumble, Johnny pale in the hospital bed, Dally crumpled under the dim street lamp. I don't wish him these memories, but he must have them. He lived them.

He was there.

XXX

October 28 - morning

When I wake up, he's gone. It's Sunday, a chance for me to sleep in since I don't have to work today, but the empty space beside me is cold. He didn't went up recently. I yawn and swing my feet down to the floor, goes to the living room to look for my brother. It takes just a few glances around our small house to realize he's not at home. And it's so early Darry's still asleep.

I try to ignore my worried feeling when I push up our front door. It's freezing, and I blink. The ground has a layer of white, footprints shows Pony's way over the lawn. I turn around and walk back to our bedroom, find my jeans and a clean shirt, and fortunately my shoes. When I rummage through the hallway closet to find my jacket, Darry shows up.

"Why are you up?" He check the watch. "It's only six am," he says, confused.

"Pony's gone," I say and regret it at once. He's not gone gone, he's just out. "I mean out," I add quickly, but Darry already scowls.

"Now? This early? Why didn't you stop him?"

"I was asleep, that's why!" I snap. "Where the hell's my jacket?" I close the door with a loud bang.

Without a word Darry goes to the couch, picking my coat up from the floor beside it.

"Thanks," I mutter while dragging it on. "I'll be back soon."

He doesn't ask where I'm going, he already know. Instead he plops down on the couch, turning on the TV to watch the morning news. But his shoulders are stiff.

It's still snowing when I get out, but I'm not afraid Pony's trail will get lost. This early his prints are the only ones, and they ends up at the lot. My heart nearly stops when I see the body lying outstretched in the middle of the white, but then I see his breath in the cold air.

"What are you doin'?" I puff at him with my shoe. His eyes are closed, and he doesn't look up.

"I had another nightmare," he says.

I sit down next to him, the snow soak my jeans. Pony must be cold, he's only wearing his thin autumn jacket. Never uses his head.

"I didn't notice."

"I know."

"Tell me about it."

He open his eyelids. "No."

"Why not?" I try to smile. "It's me, Pony. You used to tell me everything."

"Not everything," he blushes. "I can't tell you this."

"Please."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because..."

"Because what?"

"Soda," he says. "Shut up. I ain't gonna tell."

I sigh. He lies completely still, staring up at the sky. Now and then he blinks, his only movement except from his chest's rise and fall.

"Come on, Pone. Let's go home. It's fuckin' cold, and Darry'll be worried."

"You can go."

"Not without you," I reply. "Come on." I tug at his arm. He let me drag him up on his feet. I discover he shivers, and put my arms around his shoulders, trying to warm him up, but he jerks away. I'm just about to suggest us to exchange jackets when he turns around to look at the oak tree. The knot in my stomach is back, I remember the last time we was here. When he said he saw him.

"I don't want him to go away." It's a whisper.

"What?"

"I don't want him to go away," he repeats, louder this time but still quiet, still refusing to look at me.

"Who?"

He buries his face in his palms. "Johnny. Oh god, Soda. He's so mad at me!"

I don't know what to do, so I just fling my arms around him when he cries.

XXX

October 28 - morning

I take him home and he goes straight to bed. I put the cover on him, and he's asleep before I have the chance to leave the room. In the hallway I meet Darry.

"What happened?"

I go back again, but Darry follows.

"I need a cigarette." Mine's out, and when I find Pony's pack it's empty too. "Damn it."

Darry takes my arm and drags me out of the room. "What happened?" he urges.

"I don't know," I tell him honestly. "Things are really fucked up, Darry."

"Soda!"

"Hell, Darry!" I shout. "I. Don't. Fuckin'. Know!" I take a step backwards, we stare at each other in silence. For a long moment none of us moves, but then I sigh and shake my head.

"I'm sorry," I tell him. "I'm sorry. I must... get out. I'm goin' to Steve, all right?"

He looks so tired.

"Sure. Okay."

"I'll be back in a couple of hours," I say. "Promise."

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