Author's Note: Yay for quick updates! Haha, I got some inspiration that just kinda ran away with me, this chapter went a lot smoother than the last one. Hope you like it! Thanks for the reviews! Please continue to review especially if you want quick updates! :)
Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders
Chapter Six
Respect
Soda didn't sleep well. After what happened the night before he didn't trust himself enough to really allow himself to sleep. He knew logically that he would have to sleep eventually and he would drop off for short periods every hour or so, but he was restless.
Soda was the first one up in the morning. He was so used to getting up early that it felt odd to lay in bed. He limped out to the front porch for a smoke. He was never a big smoker before he left, but that had quickly changed once he was deployed. He found himself relying more and more on the cigarettes to steady his nerves while in Vietnam because he was always on edge. He wasn't smoking as much as he did while overseas, but it was still more than he used to. He wondered if he could ever feel the way that he did before he left. He wondered if he could ever be the person that he was before.
Soda wandered back into the quiet house and headed for the kitchen. Darry would be up soon and he decided to get started on breakfast like he would in the old days, though in the old days he was rarely up before Darry. As he worked on cooking up ham and eggs he found himself very aware of his handicap. A few weeks ago when the doctor had told him that he could walk with a cane Soda had been extremely relieved. He had been picturing himself in a wheelchair and the thought horrified him. The cane had granted him a level of independence that he didn't think he was going to have upon returning home. But even though he was grateful to be able to hobble around on his own and even do something as simple as walk up the steps of the front porch, he was really starting to see how cumbersome the cane really was. Not only was he limited with his left leg, but also it was like he had lost his left hand as well since he always needed to be holding on to the cane.
However Soda was determined, and by the time Darry walked into the kitchen he had three breakfasts on the kitchen table.
"Morning Soda," Darry said, sounding surprised. "What are you doing up already?"
"Guess I'm used to getting up early," Soda said, sitting down at the table.
"Did you sleep okay?" Darry asked as he also sat down.
"Fine," Soda said shortly, studying his food as he started to eat. He didn't want Darry to worry. He hated causing Darry any more stress than he already had.
Pony came wandering into the kitchen soon after, still blinking sleepily and mumbling a "Morning."
"Hey, sleepyhead, you want a ride this morning?" Darry asked Pony. "I can drop you on my way to work."
"Yeah, that'd be good," Pony mumbled.
Soda chuckled lightly under his breath. It all just seemed so normal. There was never a sense of calm in the morning while he was deployed.
Soda finished his breakfast before heading back to his room to get changed for work. He managed to dig up his old DX shirt and cap. Getting in and out of a pair of pants was still a struggle. He winced and groaned as he pulled on his jeans. He sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his thigh absently as he could have sworn he heard the distant echo of an explosion as a sharp pain ran through his knee.
He was jerked from his thoughts by the sound of an old groaning car pulling up in front of the house. He braced himself for the sound of the doors slamming, but to his surprise they barely made a sound. He figured Darry must have said something to Two-Bit and Steve after what happened yesterday. Soda had been startled awake by the sounds of the car doors slamming. When Darry had entered his room Soda had been sitting bolt upright in bed, panting and trembling.
Soda pushed himself to his feet and walked out of the bedroom and into the living room just as Steve and Two-Bit were walking in the house.
"Morning, Curtises," Two-Bit called. He looked over and spotted Soda. "Looks like you're ready to go." He sounded a little surprised, and Soda could guess it was because he used to always be running late.
"Yeah, ready to get back to a job where I don't have to dodge bullets," Soda said lightly.
"I dunno about that, it is a pretty rough neighborhood," Two-Bit joked as Steve elbowed him.
"C'mon, you ready then?" Steve asked.
"Yeah, let's go," Soda said as he limped forward.
"You take it easy today, you hear?" Darry said coming out of the bathroom.
"Quit worrying, Darry," Soda said, starting to get a little annoyed. He had been stationed overseas for almost ten months; he should be able to handle working at a gas station after that, even with his injury.
Outside Soda descended the porch stairs for the first time since his injury. He found the railing to be a little shaky, but it held his weight, which he was grateful for. Usually there would be a fight over the front seat, but even though Two-Bit made it to Steve's car first he slid into the backseat. He noticed Steve watching him closely out of the corner of the eye, but he knew well enough to spare Soda's pride and not offer to help.
Soda managed to get himself into the front seat of the car without much difficulty. Steve got into the drivers seat and took off toward the gas station. They made it there in no time at all. Under normal circumstances they probably would have just walked there. But these weren't normal circumstances.
When they arrived at the gas station Soda found that it was a little trickier getting out of the car than it was getting in. He managed to shift to sit sideways in the seat with both feet on the pavement of the parking lot but as he went to lift himself he found that his muscles just didn't seem to want to work and there was a sharp pain in his left leg that made him exhale loudly. Steve was suddenly in front of him and without a word he put out his hand and Soda reached out a grabbed it. Steve pulled Soda to his feet before turning and walking toward the station. Steve knew him well.
Soda had accepted that even though he was returning back to work he would be limited. He couldn't crawl under cars anymore and even though he could look under the hood at the engine he would only have one hand available to actually do any work. He kept reminding himself that it wasn't necessarily going to be this way forever. The doctor at the army hospital had told him that he might someday walk without a cane. He had to hold on to that hope in order to keep his sanity.
As Soda hovered over Steve's shoulder as he worked on an engine, there was a honk from outside.
"Hey Soda, I got my hands full here, you think you could get that?" Steve asked.
Soda knew full well that Steve didn't really have his hands full; it was a pretty slow day. But he also knew that filling up a gas tank only required one hand and that was one thing he could do on his own. At least there was still something he could do.
He found that he did not hate only doing fill ups as much as he thought he would. He chatted with regular customers that he hadn't seen since before being drafted and managed to make quite a few tips. It was a much better day than he had yesterday and he was glad to not be sitting around that quiet house. There was only an hour left in their shift before there was an incident.
Soda was in the store talking with Two-Bit when there was another honk from outside. He walked outside to see that a red corvette was sitting beside the gas pump with three Socs standing next to it. It was rare for Socs to stop at their gas station, but when they did it was usually to mess with the Greasers who worked there.
"Fill it up, Grease!" one of the Socs said brightly.
Soda just nodded as he limped to the gas pump.
"Look, it's a hop-along Greaser!" another Soc said laughing and pointing at his cane.
Soda glared but kept his mouth shut as he went to fill up the car. He really didn't want to get into it with the Socs.
"He's like a greasy Tiny Tim!" the first Soc said as they all laughed. "God bless us, everyone!" he said in a high-pitched very poor English accent.
"Shut it," Soda growled, tightening his grip on his cane. He watched the numbers click by on the gas pumped and wished they would go faster.
"Hey, hey I bet his greasy hair leaked all over the floor and he slipped in it!"
Soda froze, the sounds of an explosion and screams echoing in his head.
"Hey!" Soda heard Steve call and looked up to see him hurrying out of the garage. "Back off."
"Just hanging out with the three legged Greaser," one of the Socs laughed.
"How 'bout a little respect for a veteran," Steve demanded fiercely as he stood next to Soda.
"Oh, drafted huh?" the first Soc said. "That's what college is for Greaser. Guess you were too dumb to get in."
For that moment Soda completely forgot where he was or that he had a severe handicap. He went to lunge at the lead Soc and stumbled as he lost his footing. Luckily Steve was quick to grab Soda before he fell. Two of the Socs laughed hysterically and openly pointed while the third suddenly looked uncomfortable. Steve looked murderous as he reached over and pulled the gas nozzle out of the tank.
"Good to go," Steve said darkly.
"Come on, let's go," the only Soc that wasn't laughing said quietly, getting back into the car.
The lead Soc dropped the money on the ground as continued to snicker as they got into the car and drove away, honking merrily. Soda watched them go, feeling anger smoldering just under his skin.
"Can you hang on?" Steve asked. Soda suddenly realized that he had dropped his cane and it had rolled away. The only reason he was still standing was because Steve was holding him up. He grabbed on to the gas pump so that Steve could grab his cane for him as he picked up the money from the ground. "You okay?" Steve asked with concern.
"Fine," Soda said darkly as he took his cane back. He felt angry tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He felt trapped. He wanted to run to get as far away from there as possible. He didn't want to go back into the store and listen to Two-Bit's light hearted jokes, he didn't want to go back to the garage and endure Steve's concerned glances. "I'm gonna clock out and go."
Steve didn't look too surprised. "Hang on, I can drive you," he said, started toward the garage where his keys were.
"That's okay," Soda said, shaking his head. "I'll walk."
"Soda, come on," Steve said. "You can't…"
"I can still walk," Soda said, suddenly fierce. He started limping away. "See you later."