Pony was the first to speak.
"No way. There's no way you're talking to him. How can you even say that Scout, after what he did to you?" He was angry, the way Soda had been when I asked Darry about working for the summer.
"Is this something the counselor suggested you do?" Darry wasn't angry like Pony, but he didn't sound too thrilled, either.
"Well if she did, she's crazy, then," Pony interjected. "I don't think you should even have to be in the same room with him, ever again." He banged his fork against his plate for emphasis.
"No, she didn't suggest it." I had known it would be a struggle to get them to agree. "We didn't really even talk about him that much."
Pony was clearly about to start in on me again, but Darry cut him off.
"Why then, baby? And Pony - how about at least giving her a chance to explain it to us before you start getting all bent out of shape, huh?"
"I don't want him anywhere near her," he muttered.
"Well maybe this ain't about what you want, Pony," Soda suggested, quietly. "Let her talk."
"I just feel like it's something I have to do. I mean, eventually, I'm gonna have to see him, he lives in the neighborhood… Soda sees him, every day. It can't be easy for you, being stuck in the middle." I looked over at Soda.
"You don't have to worry about me, Scout. I'm okay. You don't owe me anything. Don't do something you don't want to do because you're worried about me."
"Its not only that… I just… I don't know. In the beginning, right after he hurt me, I was terrified of him, and I felt scared, and alone, and I was sure he was going to hurt me again. It was like I was completely filled up with fear, all day long and then getting the nightmares, too."
"You're not alone. You've never been alone," Darry said.
"I know. I know that now. And time has passed, and when I saw Steve at the DX today, I kept thinking that something was different about him, but I couldn't figure out what. But then I realized it wasn't him. It was me that was different, because I'm not afraid of him anymore. Every time I saw him, right after it happened, my whole body would freeze and I would want to throw up, I was so scared. But I'm not, now. And I want to talk to him. I just feel like... I think that maybe it will help me."
"Why now? Don't you think you should wait… I mean, it's still kinda soon, isn't it?"
"Wait for what, Darry? Nothings going to change, and I'm just going to keep having this feeling like I need to do this. I wish I could just make the whole thing go away and things could go back to how they were, but I can't. So instead of just trying to forget about it, I think I need to just…" I hesitated.
"Just what?" Soda had been listening intently the whole time I was talking.
"Just… deal with it. Deal with him."
"I don't know," Darry said, looking at me with concern. "I hear what you're saying, but…you've been doing real good lately. What if this makes everything worse again… I mean, look what happened after you talked to Dr. Bryant about it. You got the nightmares again."
"I can't promise it won't make it worse. But I want to do it. I think I have to do it. I think it might actually make things better."
"He's asked me, Dar, actually..." Soda started, slowly, "…to see her, to talk to her. And I've told him absolutely not – that we didn't want him anywhere near her. But now, I mean… if it's what she wants, too… He ain't messed up anymore, I mean, he ain't gonna touch her. He's hating himself over the whole thing."
"Good. He should," Pony snapped.
"Look, it's not like I really have to ask you, anyway. I know where he works, I could just go there and talk to him, and you guys wouldn't even know." I knew Darry wouldn't like that suggestion at all.
"No. No way, Scout. I don't want you going to do this alone."
"Well if you won't support me about it, I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
"I don't like it." Pony had toned it down a bit but he was still fuming. "I don't think you should have to listen to a word he says. What he did to you was unforgivable."
"It's not you who gets to decide that, Pone. This ain't about you. You can have your own confrontation with him if that's what you need, but this is about Scout and what she needs." I wasn't surprised to have Soda on my side – his work situation had to be nothing if not uncomfortable with things being as they were. I wasn't sure exactly where they stood with each other but I knew they were at least civil to each other.
"So… I can?"I looked up at Darry, hopefully.
He looked completely torn.
"Okay. But only because the last thing I want is for you to do it alone. And you do it here, with me here."
"Why don't I just do it now, then?"
"Right now?"
"Yeah, that way none of us will have time to change our minds."
"If you're thinking about changing your mind, then maybe it isn't such a good idea to do it at all."
"I was talking about you. I'm not going to change my mind. Soda can call Steve and he can come over, right now."
"That's really what you want?"
"That's really what I want."
Darry sighed and gave Soda the go ahead sign, and he got up, put his dish in the sink and headed for the phone. Pony put his dish in the sink right after and left the room in a huff. Soda dialed and waited. "Steve? It's me, Soda…"
At least I was pretty sure it was what I wanted, I thought, as the slightest tinge of fear once again made it's presence known in the pit of my stomach.
………………………………………………
Fifteen minutes later, all four of us were sitting out on the porch, Pony and Soda chain smoking their way through practically a full pack, it seemed. Darry was pacing, stopping every now and then to look anxiously down the street.
I just sat on the couch, trying not to let them make me any nervous than I was already feeling, regardless of thinking that this was something I truly needed to do if I ever wanted to really put things into the past.
Finally a figure appeared. I was surprised to see him walking – Steve had always loved his car, but I figured he was probably just as unsure about how this would go as I was, and was trying to walk off a bit of nervous energy.
He came up to the gate and stopped, just staring up at us, his hands buried in his pockets, his shoulders sagging. Nobody spoke, and for a second he didn't look like the Steve Randle I had always known. I actually had to look more closely to convince myself that it really was him. Steve had always been cocky, arrogant… this Steve looked just…sad. And, I realized with a shock, scared. I thought it ironic that he could possibly be scared of how things were going to go with me, but then I realized that Darry still hadn't "settled the score" with him, so to speak. Thinking Darry is going to clean your clock is enough to make even the toughest guy a little bit nervous. I looked over at Darry but couldn't read his expression.
"Come in," I said, surprised that despite all I was feeling I could still manage to speak. Steve didn't move to open the latch until glancing at Darry, who gave him a slight nod. I could see Pony filling with anger, and realized that having the others around was only going to make things more difficult.
"Can you go inside?" I turned to them. "This is between me and Steve."
"You're not staying out here alone," Darry said, staring at Steve, who met his gaze momentarily before looking down.
"Soda can stay," I said. I figured of all of them, he was the one who most deserved to hear the conversation. "But you two, please, can you go inside? You're just making this harder."
Neither of them moved.
"Please," I asked again, imploring Darry, and he nudged Pony towards the door.
"We'll be right in here," Darry said, leaving the door open. I knew they would be listening through the screen door, and I didn't care, I just didn't want either of them right there watching us.
Steve just kept staring down, kicking slightly at the dirt. Standing up on the porch, looking down at him, he seemed smaller to me than he ever had before. Soda looked on from where he sat between the two of us, on the far side of the steps.
"Soda said you wanted to talk to me." I said, without looking at him. I could hardly manage to talk in more than a whisper.
"Yeah." He didn't seem quite able to find his words either.
"You hurt me." I said, before I even knew exactly what I wanted to say.
It seemed so simple, that statement, but the moment the words left my mouth I realized how much I had needed to say them, to the person responsible for all that hurt. Not just the physical, but the emotional pain as well – all of the the fear and self-doubt and confusion.
"I know," he said, staring at the ground, then lifting his eyes. "I'm sorry."
I didn't know how to respond. This wasn't a simple case of "It's fine," or "Don't worry about it." "Thanks" briefly crossed my mind, but that wasn't right either. I mean, what do you say to somebody who is apologizing for something like what he had done. I searched for the appropriate words but came up with nothing.
"I know, that ain't enough - that sorry ain't ever gonna be enough to fix what I did, but I wanted to tell you that." He shifted uncomfortably and looked enviously at Soda's cigarette. Wordlessly, Soda handed him one, lighting it off his own. I walked down the stairs and sat next to Soda, noticing that Steve immediately backed away, maintaining a good five feet between us. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my own nerves without the aid of nicotine.
"Why?" I finally asked. "Why me? I mean, I get it, that you were messed up, but… why did it have to be me?" My voice was starting to waver, but I somehow managed not to cry.
"I don't know," he finally answered, the words coming out in something resembling a cry. "I don't even remember, really… Every once in a while, I remember bits and pieces, but it's like I'm seeing a movie, and it ain't me who's doin' those things. I wish… I wish to all hell it hadn't been me."
I briefly considered telling him that, for me, it had seemed the same way – that it hadn't really felt like it was him to me either, while it was happening - not the Steve I had always known, anyway. But I didn't.
"When you came for me… at the school…"
"I wasn't gonna hurt you. I don't know… I thought I could fix it, somehow."
"You couldn't… You still can't."
"I know. I was a mess. I was real messed up and because of that I messed up… well, everything. And I wish like hell I could fix it but I know I can't."
Neither of us spoke for a long moment.
"I expected you'd want to yell, cuss me out, you know…tell me what a piece of shit I am 'cause of what I did to you." he said.
I thought about it. Why didn't I want to do that? It seemed like I should want to. But I couldn't honestly see how that would make me feel any better. It took me a minute to think about what I did want to tell him.
"I'm not even the same person anymore, that I was before. That's the worst part of all of this. You stole something from me, when you hurt me. You made me not trust anyone… you actually made me think that my brothers would blame me for what you did." I wasn't yelling, but I had finally found my voice. Soda tossed his cigarette into the yard and started to rub my back lightly. I heard movement from inside the house and knew that Darry was looking out to make sure I was okay.
Steve just stood silently. Maybe that was what he needed, for me to accuse him, finally; to make him openly admit to all he had done to me.
"I get it," I continued, "that somebody was hurting you, too, but that doesn't make anything you did to me hurt any less. And it doesn't make it okay."
"No, it don't." I had seen the hurt in his eyes when I mentioned his father. "I don't expect anybody to forgive me. I didn't come here expectin' that. I'd take it all back, if I could. I ain't ever gonna forgive myself, so I got no right askin' anyone else to, either."
I didn't know how to respond to that. I still wasn't sure whether or not forgiveness was even possible. It certainly wasn't something, at twelve, that I could figure out.
"Why'd you decide you wanted to talk to me? I mean, I kinda expected you'd want nothin' to do with me. And I would 've understood." Steve was looking at me, and I met his gaze, without a trace of the fear I had felt looking him in the eyes after the attack. These eyes were Steve's own, not those of the drugged-up Steve who had terrified me.
It was a good question. And I wasn't quite sure of the answer myself until I started to talk.
"I hated you, Steve. I hated you, and I was terrified of you, and that was all I felt, for a long, long time. It took everything I had not to get buried by it, trying to make it through another day without letting how scared and angry I was take over. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I couldn't do my schoolwork, I was hardly even alive, it felt like. And it took a long time, and a lot of people trying to help me, but I'm not scared of you anymore."
"I swear, Scout, I'll never lay a hand on you again." I was surprised to hear him call me by my name. I was usually just "kid" to him.
"It's not even that, really. All that fear and anger, it was like you were the one in control of me. And finally, I let it go. It's gone. I had to see you, just to be sure, and now I am. You don't scare me, and I don't think I hate you, either. Not like I did before, anyway."
"You probably should. I hate myself for it."
"I did. For a really long time, I did. But it didn't make me feel any better."
"And now? Do you feel better now?"
I thought about it.
"Yeah, I do. I hate it, what you did, and I don't know if I'll ever get over it, really, but I'm not going to let it control me anymore."
Neither of us said anything more, and Steve finished his cigarette then tossed it aside.
"I guess I should get goin'," he said. "Thanks, for lettin' me talk to you. I know it don't excuse nothin', and sorry don't even come close to bein' enough, but I needed to say it. I guess I'll see you at work, Soda."
"Yeah, seeya," Soda said.
And with that, he was gone.
What happened next was completely unexpected.
I got up and walked into the house, straight past Darry and Ponyboy. I went into my room, sat on my bed, and started to sob. All-encompassing, full-body sobs. The relief of letting go of all that anger and fear, the months of doubting myself and my brothers, and trusting nobody - it was overwhelming, and I completely gave in to it, to the point where I had no idea even at what point Darry had come in and gathered me up in his arms, rocking me the way our mom would when we were little and had gotten hurt, whispering to us in her soothing voice.
"You're okay, Scout. You did good, baby," he said, stroking my hair as buried my head in his chest, soaking his shirt completely through, my whole body shaking with each new wave of tears. "You did real good. I'm real proud of you."
I didn't have to explain it to him - that I wasn't crying because I was upset, I was crying because I was free. He just seemed to get it.
I was free, at last. I'd never forget what had happened, or who had done it, but fear and hatred of Steve Randle no longer had any power over me.
A/N: and... Steve is back. Not redeemed yet, but, little by little, he will get there. Thanks in advance for reviewing!