Our moods had both lightened after we'd talked, although I knew Soda would still have to have the same talk, eventually, with Sandy, and that would be just as hard and draining. Darry would probably want to know how it had gone, as well, when he got back - just part of his trying to know how we all were doing, emotionally. Soda and I tended to be pretty open with Darry about most stuff, while Pony tended to keep inside a lot of what he was feeling. I know it bothered Darry – I think he interpreted it as Pony not trusting him, while I think, from Pony's point of view, he just thought a lot of the time that Darry wouldn't understand him. Yet Pony was never fully willing to open himself up enough to Darry to know whether that was really the case. Darry wasn't the philosopher that either Pony or I were - he didn't think about things as hard or as deeply - but he did try to understand me, at least, even when he had no idea where I was coming from. I'm sure he would have done the same for Pony, but Pony just had a hard time making that leap of faith. The only one he really opened up to completely was Soda, so Darry relied largely on Soda to keep him updated on Pony's state of mind.
I was thinking about all this as I dug holes, one after another, and Soda dropped the new plants in, me giving each one a good pat-down of the soil while Soda gave them a bit of water from an old watering can he'd found in the shed. After our talk, he didn't even feel the need to threaten me with spiders; he washed out the can before he even came over.
We were just putting the last few in the ground, and I was evening out the hole with my fingers when suddenly something scratched at the outside of my hand. I swore and pulled it back.
"What happened?" Soda asked.
I looked down into the hole and saw the offending object: an old nail. Mom always used to warn us about not going barefoot in the yard – our dad was excellent at repairing things but not so good about cleaning up after himself. I looked down at my hand and saw blood seeping slowly from a cut between my thumb and first finger.
"Let me see it," Soda said, grabbing my arm.
"It's nothing." I grabbed the watering can and poured water over it. It really wasn't that big of a deal.
"What cut you?" he asked. "Was it glass?" We were always on Two-Bit and Tim and whoever else came over and drank beer to keep the bottles off the porch railing – they inevitably fell into the yard and broke, and we were forever picking up glass in the yard. I was glad it hadn't been; Two-Bit had dodged a bullet on that one.
"No, it was a nail," I said as I handed it over. Blood was already oozing out of the cut again.
"You might hafta get a shot," Soda said, examining the nail.
"What? Why? It's not even that big of a cut."
"Rusty metal – you can get tetanus from that. I don't know what it, is but you gotta get one o' them shots before you can work on cars down at the DX. Too many rusty car parts hangin' around to get cut up on."
"Great."
"Yeah, well, maybe not. Darry will know if you've already had one or not."
I didn't even want to tell Darry - he'd probably act like I had severed my arm or something, but Soda and I were coming in the back door just as we heard him coming in the front. He came in and saw me holding my hand with blood on it and assumed the worst.
"What happened? Don't even tell me… the lawn mower?"
"It's not that bad. it's only two fingers," Soda said, completely deadpan.
Darry's face went white and I immediately felt bad.
"He's kidding, Darry. I held up my cut hand while punching Soda in the gut with the other. "It's just a scrape. And it had nothing to do with the lawnmower."
Soda was laughing uncontrollably.
"You're so easy, Darry," he joked. Nobody else would even dare tricking him like that, that I could think of, but somehow Soda got away with it. Darry came over and manhandled Soda out of his way, giving him another smack in the gut as he moved him to the side. He turned on the water and motioned for me to put my hand underneath it. I rinsed it off with soap and water and he looked at it.
"Well, it's not deep enough for stitches. Can't you guys go a few weeks without hurting yourselves?" That was funny, coming from him, since he came home with new scrapes and bruises every day, though he never complained. "How'd it happen, anyway?"
Soda pulled the nail out of his pocket and put it on the counter.
"We were planting the plants and that was in the ground."
Darry picked it up and examined it.
"You might need a shot," he said.
"C'mon, it's just a little scrape." It wasn't that I was afraid of shots, I just didn't want the doctors, and the bills that came with them.
"Scout, remember what happened with that 'little scrape' you got jumping off the train? How it got infected and coulda killed you?"
"Yeah," I admitted. God, the way I had felt in those woods, I wasn't looking for a repeat performance of that.
"I'll call the doctor tomorrow to see if you need a shot. For now, peroxide and band aids."
"Fine," I said, and I headed down to the bathroom to bandage it up. Arguing with him about medical stuff was futile, and I understood why. If one of us got really sick while he was in charge it would look like he wasn't taking good care of us. Suddenly, I remembered Dr. Bryant's offer.
"Hey, wait... you don't have to call a doctor!" I practically yelled from the bathroom.
"Scout." He assumed I was going to argue.
"No, really. I forgot, Dr. Bryant saw me today and said if you bring me early tomorrow morning to come over to his house and he could take out my stitches so we don't have to go to the hospital for it. He can look at the cut then, too."
"Scout, you can't be going around asking for free stuff…" Pride. It always came down to pride, with Darry. He was washing his own hands as I came back from the bathroom, smoothing down the band-aids.
"I didn't ask, Darry. He offered. I never even thought about it 'til he offered. Same with the plants. He wants to. They want to."
Darry sighed and finally gave in.
"Fine. We'll go early tomorrow."
"Okay. Hey, where's Pony?" I asked. Darry usually picked him up at the bowling alley.
"The night guy was gonna be late, so they offered him a few more hours. He gets free dinner there."
"Oh." Pony would like that, he loved the greasy food they had at the bowling alley.
Soda stood up from where he was sitting at the table.
"Hey, do you mind starting dinner? I defrosted the pork chops and the potatoes just need to go in the oven. I need to talk to Darry for a few minutes."
I knew he wanted to get Darry's take on his visit with Steve.
"Yeah, no problem," I said. Soda thanked me and they headed out onto the porch.
"Don't hurt yourself," Darry called back, half-kidding, and I giggled. He has a better sense of humor than most people think.
I put a pan on the stove and cut up some onions and garlic to sauté – we all like our pork chops cooked like that - and put the potatoes in the oven to bake. Then I opened the refrigerator to see if we had any kind of colored vegetables. Nothing in there, so I pulled some frozen peas out of the freezer. The color thing - That had been our Mom's rule – something colorful at every meal. She said it made sure we got all the vitamins. The more colors, the healthier the meal.
Soda tried to use that against her once when he realized that Jujubes, Necco Wafers, Mike and Ikes, and a whole bunch of candies came in a variety of colors. He insisted to Mom that they couldn't be bad for you, according to her rules. So she let him eat as many candies as he wanted for one night and the amount of throwing up he did all night and the next day convinced him that maybe she was right, that candy was exempt from the rule. Or so he and Darry say, anyway - I was too young to remember, but our mom was smart like that. Listening to the hushed but serious tones of Darry and Soda out on the porch, I almost felt sad at how we'd all had to grow up so much. I stirred my onions and garlic until I was distracted by a knock on the back door. I looked up to see Ben waiting at the door, so I turned the stove down and walked over to let him in.
"I saw Darry and Soda on the porch, so I know I can't come in," he said. I just shook my head at Darry's silly rule. What did he honestly think the two of us were gonna do with the two of them right there?
"Yeah, that's dumb," I said, taking his hand, although he didn't let me pull him in.
"I'm not getting him mad at me, Scout, c'mon," he responded, pulling me out instead.
"What are they talking about, anyway? It sounds serious."
"Soda went to see Steve today."
"Oh," Ben said, sounding serious himself. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, everything's good, actually. I can't really talk about it now, though, I'm cooking." I glanced over at the stove. "Did you need something?"
"I just was wondering if you asked Darry about the dance. Kevin and Kate are going, and Pony and Soda can come, too, if that makes Darry feel better."
The last thing I wanted was Soda on my case at a dance – my first real "date," but I knew that might be the selling point in getting Darry to say yes. Pony wouldn't want to go, anyway.
"I haven't asked him yet," I said, "but I will, tonight. I'll let you know."
"Okay, well, get back to your cooking." He gave me a quick kiss and headed back to his own house.
I had the onions and garlic just about ready for the pork and the water boiling for the peas when Darry and Soda came back in. They both looked pretty calm; I guess Darry had been okay with how Soda'd handled things. Soda took the spatula out of my hand and took over. Darry sat down at the table and started sifting through the mail.
"Hey, um, does Pony get paid tomorrow?" I asked. I figured he would, since he was working Tuesday through Thursday, it seemed like payday would be Thursday,
"I guess so, he said, not looking up. Why?"
"Well, just… when the state comes tomorrow, it's just, well, there's not much in the refrigerator besides condiments and beer." The state workers, without fail, always looked to see what was in our refrigerator. And they always looked happy when they found healthy stuff in there.
That got his attention.
"Oh crap, you're right," he said, pulling out his wallet. I was relieved to see there was money in it. "Soda, can you hit the store tomorrow? I'll make you a list of the stuff they eat up – you know, apples and cheese and stuff." We didn't mind those foods – in fact we actually liked them – but eating healthy was more expensive than eating poorly, so we generally ate poorly. Not necessarily bad stuff – just maybe not as much fresh stuff as we should have been eating.
"Good thinking, Scout," Darry said. "Soda, any beer left in there tomorrow goes into the basement, okay?"
"Okay," he said, as he opened the oven door to check on the potatoes.
"So, I have to ask you something else." I looked at Darry, who was lost in the mail again, and didn't hear me.
"Earth to Darry," Soda joked, and Darry looked up.
"Sorry, what? I was reading."
"Never mind," I said. If you're busy…"
"No, it was nothing. What?"
"Well, Ben wanted to know if I could go to his church dance with him on Friday night." I left it at that for the moment, and watched Darry and Soda look at each other.
"I don't know, baby…," Darry started.
"Kevin and Kate will be there, so they can drive us, and Soda and Sandy can come too, Ben said." I was praying for Soda to take my side.
"She might like that," Soda said. "Sandy loves to dance."
Darry looked back and forth at us, trying to figure out if we were in cahoots.
"Did you two plan this?" he asked, finally.
"I didn't know anything about it 'til right now," Soda said. "I swear."
"Ben asked me last night, but I decided to wait to ask 'til today, after all the drama we already had. He came over while you and Soda were out on the porch. And don't worry, he wouldn't even come in the door, 'cause he didn't want to break your dumb rule."
"Yeah, well, dumb or not, you two better follow it."
"So? Can I go?"
"Do I have to answer right now?" he asked.
"I guess not. But… by Friday would be nice," I laughed.
"If Soda and Sandy go too, you can go," he said. "But only to the dance. Straight there and straight home."
"We will," I said, not able to contain my smile. Darry actually smiled back.
"Thanks," I said.
"You're welcome," he said. "No beer blast this time, okay?"
"I promise." That was a mistake I was not looking to repeat.
Soda came over and set the plates and forks down, and Darry and I set the places while he brought the food over.
"Enjoy it," Darry said, with an evil laugh, "because after dinner tonight, we all become cleaning machines."
With the state on the way, the place had to be spotless before Darry, Pony and I left the next morning.
"Great," Soda and I groaned in unison, though, inside, I was smiling. I was going to go on my first real date.
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A/N: As always, thanks for reading and reviews are appreciated.