After dinner, it was just as Darry had promised, he had us all set off to cleaning as though it were our job. Sandy and Two-Bit had the bad timing to show up just around then, and they worked on the living room with Soda while Darry and I took up Pony's slack in the kitchen, finally figuring out his real reason for wanting to work overtime. He wanted us to take over his cleaning assignment. Darry wasn't going to have any of that, though – he reassured me and Soda by declaring that Pony had just earned himself the honor of cleaning the bathroom instead of the kitchen.
"Doesn't anyone ever pick stuff up in here when they clean," Darry griped, as he picked up the toaster and ran the sponge under it, collecting considerably more than a small pile of crumbs, which he swept off the counter into the sink.
"I don't know," I answered, picking up the breadbox and immediately dropping it again, screaming at the sight of the giant bug I found residing underneath. The bug was hunkered down under its armor, likely remaining unscathed by the descending bread receptacle.
Soda, Two-Bit and Sandy all came to the kitchen door at the sound of my scream. Darry was at my side in a second.
"What? What happened?"
I had already jumped back.
"There's a HUGE bug under there," I said, backing away.
"What, like a spider?" Soda asked. Everybody knew how I hated spiders. I certainly hated them enough to know the difference between a spider and a plain old bug.
"No, just, like, a huge bug. A beetle, or something."
"Oh Christ, don't even tell me we have roaches, with Social Services coming tomorrow," Darry complained, getting a pan to smash it with as he slowly started to lift the breadbox.
We all were staring, hardly breathing, waiting to see what Darry would reveal under there, when Two-Bit thought it would be hilarious to scare the crap out of me by suddenly reaching out and squeezing my waist, one hand on each side, and saying "Boo!" into my ear.
He succeeded rather fantastically, and I screamed fit to wake the dead. Poor Darry stood up so fast he hit his head on the upper cabinets, cursing, and I turned and hit Two-Bit in the gut hard enough to double him over and garner a compliment from Soda.
"Nice uppercut, Scout," he said, impressed, as Two-Bit leaned against the doorframe, laughing, but holding his stomach.
"You big jerk!" I went after Two-Bit again, though he blocked me this time, still laughing at me all the while.
Darry cussed Two-Bit out to no end, rubbing his head, and the insect in question flew erratically - terrified, no doubt - around the room.
Soda chased it around while I cowered under Two-Bit. He finally reached up and caught it in his hands, sitting down to examine it.
"Is it a roach?" I asked, hoping it wasn't.
"No." Darry said, still rubbing his head. "Roaches don't fly, baby."
"Junebug," Soda said, showing it to me. "See? All bigness and no bite. Not too bright, either – these are the big guys that smash themselves into the windows all the time, tryin' to get at the lights."
I knew those bugs. Sometimes they hovered around the porch light and I had to run in the door to avoid them. I guess I'd never seen one in the house, though, up close.
"They don't hurt?" I asked.
"Nope. Gentle giants. Wanna hold it?" he asked.
"Promise it won't hurt?"
"Promise."
"Okay." Soda put it in my hand and it settled there, walking a little but not hurting me. It tickled a little, though. I wasn't scared of bugs, per se – not like I was of spiders, anyway - but the surprise of finding this particular one in an unlikely place, as well as its sheer size had me a little unnerved.
"Okay, so… should I put it outside?" I asked.
"Unless you want it to sleep in your bed with you," Soda joked. I went to hit him and the Junebug took to flight again. For some reason it was a whole lot scarier when it was flying. I had images of it getting caught in my hair and buzzing and buzzing right in my ear. I screeched and ran into the living room with Sandy. I noticed Two-Bit running along with us.
"Soda, put it outside," Sandy yelled.
Two-Bit stood behind the armchair, listening to what was going on in the kitchen. I saw my opportunity, while he was so focused on listening, and I sneaked up behind him and grabbed his waist, scaring him back, and made him yell just like I had. He immediately started cursing at me as I collapsed in laughter on the couch.
Pony came through the door just then, to me laughing maniacally on the couch. Two-Bit and Sandy were hiding from a bug, and Darry and Soda were jumping around the kitchen trying to catch the offending bug with a variety of containers.
"What the hell is going on in here?" Pony asked, and I just laughed harder.
"Got it," Soda yelled from the kitchen, and ran through the living room past Pony and out the front door with a covered frying pan in his hands.
Pony just looked at us all, bewildered, and decided he was better off not knowing.
"Anybody in the shower?' he asked.
"No," I laughed. "But you gotta clean in there now, 'cause Darry and I already started the kitchen."
"Whatever," he said, looking at us as though we had completely lost our minds. Finally he just turned and headed into the bathroom to shower.
"Why'd you all have to act like such girls," Soda joked as he came back inside with the frying pan, addressing Two-Bit, along with Sandy and me. "It was just a bug."
"It was a big bug," Two-Bit said. "Scout had a point, there."
"Yeah," I agreed, "and an unexpected bug. It was all sneaky and hiding and everything."
"A terrifying bug," Sandy agreed, going over to Soda and hugging him. "Thank you for protecting us from that giant, surprising, terrible bug." She kissed his neck and he smiled. He lifted the frying pan up to hide his face as he gave her back what was clearly more than just an innocent peck on the lips.
"Okay, back to cleaning," Darry announced, coming into the room.
"Knock it off, you two," he said, and Soda took down the frying pan, though Sandy's cheeks were all red. "Soda, you ain't goin' out anywhere with Sandy 'til this room is spotless." Two-Bit had agreed to let Soda borrow his car for the night.
"Yeah, yeah," Soda grumbled, though he was still smiling.
"Who's in the shower?" Darry asked, which was a dumb question since the three of us were right there.
"Oh, I just invited some guy in off the street, on my way over," Two-Bit said. "Didn't think you'd mind."
"Shut up Two-Bit," Darry said, offhandedly. "Did somebody tell Pony he has to clean in there?"
"I did," I answered.
"Alright, then Scout, you get in the dining room. I'll handle the rest of the kitchen, in case there are any more bugs hiding anywhere. Christ, Two-Bit, you're lucky I didn't fracture my damned skull on the cabinets after you scared her like that. I would have sent you the doctor bill, too."
"Don't worry, Darry. I got him back," I said, laughing. "He screamed like a girl, too." Two-Bit fake-sneered at me, which only made me laugh more.
"Yeah, well, Two-Bit, either behave yourself or get out. And remember, both of you – he motioned at Two-Bit and Sandy – stay away tomorrow night. I don't know exactly what time the state lady's gonna show up."
"You got it, boss," Two-Bit answered, plopping into the chair.
I headed into the living room and took all the stuff off the piano to dust. It was pretty bad - the spaces where things had been sitting were clearly defined by the amount of dust that had settled around them. I dusted the top and keys, making a terrible sound as I ran the cloth over them. Man, was it ever out of tune. All of us could play, a little bit, but it had been Mom's piano – she was the one who'd taught us to play, and I don't think any of us had felt like playing much since she died.
Cautiously I pulled the piano out from against the wall, hoping there would be no bugs back there, but at least prepared this time, if there were any. There weren't, but there were two framed photos that had fallen behind the piano and the glass in the frames had cracked. One was of our grandparents; the other was a picture of my parents, with an infant Darry in my Mom's arms. I had never asked her, but I was guessing it might have been his first day home from the hospital. I peeked through the kitchen door at Darry, scrubbing the sink, and found it completely unfathomable that he could have ever been that small.
I picked up the two pictures and carried them into the kitchen.
"What's that?" he asked.
"These were behind the piano," I handed them to him. "What should I do with them? They're broken."
Darry took them over to the trash and carefully pushed the glass back against the picture, getting the picture out and the glass in the trash. He did the same with the other.
"Are you gonna get new glass?" I asked.
"I don't know, what do you think?"
"Well, maybe we should, on Nana and Poppa's, but you could just keep the one of Mom and Daddy with you in your box."
It took him a second to get what I was talking about but eventually he remembered the boxes we'd found in Mom's closet.
"You should get to keep that one – it's just you with them," I rationalized.
"Okay, then," he agreed. "In the box it will go."
He had finished in the kitchen so he came in to help me with the dining room. Carefully, we dusted off each of the photos, laughing at our faces in some of them, and taking a moment to think about those we'd lost in others. I caught Darry staring hard at one of them – a family picture of all of us taken the last Christmas they were alive.
"Do you think they'd be happy with the job I'm doing with you guys?" he asked- not sadly, really – just … thoughtfully.
"Are you kidding, Darry?" I asked. "They'd be amazed. You're doing great. I think you're doing way better than most guys your age could, and I know I forget to tell you how much I appreciate it sometimes, but I really do. We all do."
"I don't know, I just wonder sometimes," he said, setting the picture back down.
"Well, stop wondering. They'd be so proud." I reached up and pinched his cheek. "I mean… their little Darrel, all grown up."
He blushed. I actually made Darry blush. I had never seen him do that before. I stared and laughed at him, and he stared back at me, deciding on a plan of action. I should have known enough to run, but the blushing had caught me off guard, and I waited too long. In one quick movement, his hands were on my stomach and he was tickling me so hard I was screaming – not in fear, like when Pony had pinned my hands down – Darry knew enough not to do that again - but with laughter. And he was laughing almost as hard as I was.
I hoped that, if my parents were up there somewhere, watching over us, they saw that as serious and responsible as Darry'd had to become, and as proud as they should be of him, he was still capable of some fun every once in a while, too.
………………………………………….
A/N: Big day next chapter… the state visits. Eek. Thanks for your reviews and input, as always. I'll try to get the Soda/Steve chapter some of you wanted done soon, though I probably will post it separately from this story.