Sodapop was the only one that knew my mother had killed herself, and I knew he wouldn't tell. And he didn't, but a lot of things changed while my cousin Grace was in town. She was only there three days. Remember when I said Grace came and went like the wind? Well, what I really should have said is that she came and went like a dang tornado.
It started with a bonfire party that Tim Shepard was throwing. This was pretty common enough. Tim liked parties because usually he was able to get into a good fight at them. I brought Grace along with me and Evie and we met Steve and Soda there. Karen and Curly were by the fire, throwing left over fireworks from the Fourth of July into it and making them explode so that the flames turned different colors. It didn't look all that safe.
Grace had brought along her special cigarettes and I saw her give one to Two-Bit. Now, Two-Bit liked to get drunk a good deal but I didn't think he'd ever had weed before that night. Which is actually pretty surprising because Two-Bit is, well, Two-Bit. But he had some that night.
"Brooklyn," Two-Bit slapped his hand on Soda's shoulder after he had finished his smoke. "Why haven't you ever told me about this?"
His eyes were red, and if it weren't for his hand on Soda's shoulder he would've been liable to fall over. I just laughed at the goofy, lazy grin on Two-Bit's face.
"You feelin' good, Two-Bit?" I asked and he nodded excitedly. He went off to join Grace, his arm slung around her shoulder. I think they were trying to whisper to each other, but they must have forgotten how. It all sounded like gibberish to me but they were just howling with laughter.
"She's like Dally was," Soda said. I wasn't sure if he thought that was a good thing or a bad thing. But I agreed. Dally and Grace had been like two hell-raising peas in a pod at holidays.
"Yeah, she is," I said, watching Grace and Two-Bit struggle to lift themselves onto the back of a pickup truck.
"C'mon, Brookie." Soda took my hand. "Let's dance." Someone had brought a battery radio and it was playing on top of a car away from the fire.
Soda loved to dance and dancing with Soda was always a lot of fun. He was strong, so he was real good at lifting me and swing dancing moves. Girls used to always want to dance with Soda on account of him being handsome and good at dancing, but he didn't dance with anyone but me after we started going together.
I really can't say if what happened at that bonfire was because of the weed or because Two-Bit is Two-Bit, but Grace definitely had something to do with it.
Soda was being silly, spinning me so much and so fast that I was starting to get sick from being dizzy. I tripped and fell into him, laughing while Soda wrapped his arms around me to keep me upright. He wasn't laughing, though. He was looking over my head and over the field we were in, way off in the distance. We had been so close to the radio that we hadn't heard the yelling.
"What's happening?" I asked, pushing my hair off my face so I could see better.
"I think Tim's found himself a fight." That would've been the end of it, except Tim shifted just then and we could see the person he was slugging happened to be Two-Bit.
"Oh, shit," Soda said and then he said, "Sorry." He didn't like to cuss around girls, but sometimes you just have to. Like when your buddy is high off his feet and he's getting his face beat in.
"It's okay, go help him!" Two-Bit didn't usually need all that much help when it came stuff like this, but like I said, he wasn't exactly in good control of his body. He could hardly walk right.
It all turned out that Tim, who was drunk, had picked the fight with Two-Bit all due to Grace. I guess the weed made her forget that just a few days ago she was messing around with Tim, but there she was at Tim's party hanging off of Two-Bit.
"I think we should go home," I told Grace, pushing against her to move her away from where Curly had pulled his brother away from Two-Bit. Probably because he was high, Two-Bit was laughing despite his split lip and black eye. Karen was shaking her head and getting onto him, actually using his real name, Keith.
"It ain't a big deal," Grace said. She dug her heels into the ground. Grace was bigger than me. I wasn't strong enough to move her. I rolled my eyes and went to find Angela and beg her not to start anything with Grace. Angela was protective over her brothers, and she fought like a boy. Just before Johnny killed that Soc, when Dally was still doing his time in jail, Angela had worked Sylvia over when she found out she was two-timing Dallas.
I knew the fight would end there that night. Tim didn't really care about Grace. He never kept girls for long. Neither did Two-Bit for that matter. Five minutes later and Tim was offering Two-Bit one of his beers. Boys are so funny that way. They can beat the absolute tar out of each other and still come out of it as friends.
Things were fun again for a while after all that was cleared up. But as the night went on, most of us moved around the bonfire. I was leaning against Soda and he was playing with my hair while we watched the fire and listened to one of Tim's crazy stories.
"Hey, Brookie," Grace said suddenly, lifting herself onto her elbows. She had been lying on her back, staring up at the clouds which were moving across the sky.
"What, Grace?" I asked. She looked pretty serious.
"I forgot to tell you something. You won't believe what Aunt Jeanine said." Our aunt Jeanine was my dad and Grace's mom's sister. She wasn't like Dad and Aunt Rachel though. She thought real high and mighty about herself and Dad was always calling her a 'holy roller', because she was born again and thought she was better than everyone else.
"Oh, Lordy," I said. I was still smiling from Tim's story and I was trying to keep Soda's hand away because he was trying to tickle me. "What'd she say?"
"Well, you know how she gets. All holier than thou and all that bullshit. But she got to ranting about Dally and how he had it comin', 'cause he was so wild. And then she went to runnin' her mouth about how your dad raised y'all after your mom died. And then she was sayin' how we all shoulda known somethin' like this would happen and how Dally was just like your mother, 'cept ya know a standoff with the fuzz is a lot cooler than-"
"Shut up, Grace!" I nearly yelled, and it startled a lot of people. I didn't know how much anyone had heard since Grace was beside us. Karen and Curly had to have heard. They were just on the other side of her. I was glad Steve and Evie had snuck off a while ago.
Grace looked confused and I felt bad for yelling at her. She was still high, she didn't know what she was saying. She wouldn't have talked about it there at the party if she'd been in her right mind.
I wasn't sure if Curly and Karen would put it together, that Dally and my mom had both killed themselves. I wasn't even sure if anyone knew that's what Dally had done. I knew Ponyboy understood, because I had read his writing. But it could have just been bad luck, Dally being a grease and all. I didn't know how many had figured out Dally had made them shoot on purpose.
"I'm sorry," I muttered to Grace before standing up and walking off. I didn't even wait for Sodapop, but he followed after me anyway.
"Hey," he said, jogging to catch up and then reaching out to touch my arm. "Are you okay?"
"I just wanna go home." My voice was all shaky.
It's weird, when someone dies. A lot of days you can be okay and happy even if you do miss them. But sometimes someone will say something and all you wanna do is cry.
"We can do that." Sodapop agreed easily. He slipped his arm around my waist and I leaned into him. He didn't make me talk at all, even though the walk from Tim's party to my house was pretty far.
I didn't like to hear what other people had to say about Dally and my mother. I didn't think they should have an opinion. My dad and Aunt Dolly were the only ones I thought should be allowed to talk about Momma. Ponyboy's book didn't bother me any. He got Dally pretty good.
I brought Soda inside with me. Dad wasn't on one of his drives, but he was out of town talking with Grace's parents. I imagine they were trying to figure out a way to keep Grace from ending up like Dally.
"Will you come lay down with me?" I asked and he nodded.
"Yeah, of course."
We went into my bedroom and I laid my head on Soda's chest while he played with my hair. I liked being able to hear his heart and feel his breath.
"Soda?" I asked. We hadn't turned on the lights and I think the dark made me brave enough to ask something I'd always wondered. "What did Dally tell y'all happened to our mom?"
"Just that she died in an accident. He never talked about it more than that."
"Oh. What a liar he was," I laughed, even though it wasn't really funny. Isn't that weird? That sometimes you laugh at things that aren't funny at all.
"Did I tell you Dally was the one who found her? I think that's what made Dally the way he was."
Soda was quiet, and I knew he was that way so I could talk if I wanted to or be quiet if I wanted to. Soda didn't pressure people. Maybe that's why so many people told him secrets.
"Both me and Dally had been sick, so Momma gave us some medicine that made us real sleepy. She put us to bed. I think she was thinkin' we would stay asleep until Dad came home from work, but that didn't happen. Dally woke up to go to the bathroom. He came back and woke me up even though I was still tired and he got the extra key and locked the door to our apartment and pulled me over to our neighbor's apartment. I guess he told her what happened, 'cause Mrs. Howell called our dad and the police and we had to stay with her for a few days."
I didn't know I had been crying until I picked my head up to look at Soda and my face stuck to his shirt. Soda tried my face with a part of the hem of his shirt that wasn't wet yet.
"The first time I met the aunt that Grace was talking about, she told me my Momma was in hell because she'd killed herself and God didn't love cowards."
"That ain't true," Soda said and he looked so sad that I thought he might start crying himself.
I think I smiled a little, because Soda smiled a sad little smile. I wrapped my arms around him. He held me and played with my hair until I fell asleep.