(Darry)
A strong force held me in a vice grip as I fought against it. No matter how hard I strained, I couldn't move a muscle. My feet were cemented to the ground, seeming to weigh a thousand pounds. It felt like my whole body was in a straight jacket, squeezing me tight in its vice grip. This didn't stop me from struggling against it, fighting with all of my might to break free of the invisible force holding me back. I knew I had to get to the car in front of me before it drove off forever. The big, dark car sat idling ominously in front of me, smoke curling from the exhaust and casting the area into a thick and hazy fog. A boy's face appeared in the back window, tears streaming down his face as his fists pounded against the glass. I couldn't hear him but I saw his lips forming my name as he screamed out for me. Despite fighting with all my strength, I still couldn't budge, frozen to the spot. The car started to drive slowly and the boy inside became more frantic. His fists smashed into the window, causing the glass to crack into a spiderweb. The crack was all that was needed for his cries to escape and now I can hear him as he desperately calls my name in between heaving sobs. His cries are like knives to my heart and yet I still can't break free and go to him. I am forced to watch as the car pulls away and listen as the cries become quieter as the car gets further away. I am able to wrench one of my arms from the force that holds them and I reach out as far as I can, trying to catch the car and bring it back to me. But it's too far, the cries have gone quiet and now I'm alone. Still reaching, I try to call out, so the boy knows I won't give up on him, that I'll come and get him as soon as I'm free. I can only manage one word.
"Ponyboy!"
I spring up in bed. Drenched in sweat, chest heaving. I take in a breath and run both hands through my hair, tugging at it. I've been having this nightmare since I was a ten year old kid, since they took my little brother away from me. It's always the same, and I always wake up just after calling his name, heart racing, sweaty, and missing my brother terribly. Normally I can just shake the nightmare off by grabbing a glass of water and going back to bed. But tonight is different because the nightmare was different. Because the boy in it was different. Instead of the little four year old that cried out for me, I saw a kid, almost a teenager, crying out for me. And not just any kid, but the kid that was sleeping on my couch right now.
Unable to shake the unease that this nightmare has brought, I quietly slip out of bed and down the hall to check on him. He's asleep on the couch, curled up on his side with the blankets pulled up to his chin. He looks peaceful and content, no hint of the nightmares that seem to plague him too.
I head back to my room, knowing that I need to try and get back to sleep since I have work and the social worker visit in the morning, but my mind can't stop thinking about the kid. Maybe it was Soda's words, saying that he had Pony's eyes. But the truth of the matter is that I've felt a connection to this kid since the moment I saw him. I think I've been trying to deny it, like somehow if I let myself care about this kid, it would mean I was betraying or replacing Ponyboy. Or maybe I was scared of the inevitable departure, and my heart just didn't want to say another tough goodbye. I take a deep breath and really try to clear my head. I'm not gonna solve anything in the middle of night. And I have to be on my best game tomorrow for the social worker and I need to really focus on the one brother that might be coming home tomorrow. 'I'll worry about the kid tomorrow after the social worker,' I decide. Rolling over, I can't help but sigh at myself, what kind of twenty year old schedules out when he's gonna let himself worry?
XXXX
My alarm wakes me up bright and early. Well not bright, its still pretty dark outside. I get ready for the day as quietly as possible, trying not to wake up the kid. I'm surprised when Dallas shows up much earlier than I had expected. But then again, Dallas seems to have a soft spot for kids and tends to look out for them, not that I'd ever point it out to him. I'm glad he's here this early though, it means I don't have to leave the kid by himself at all, the thought of which makes me nervous. I really hate the idea of some nut out there gunning for the kid.
After waking the kid up, I head out, leaving him in Dallas's hands until I'm done with the social worker. I head to my work site and get there before everyone. I had worked it out with my boss to come in earlier today so I could leave early to get home in time for the social work visit.
The work site is quiet. The rain from the storm this weekend left the ground muddy and the tarps that were laid around had puddles of dirty water on them. I head inside the skeleton of the house to start uncovering the lumber and roofing we'd be using today, hoping that the tarps kept them dry.
I stop short, staring at the muddy ground. There are a pair of old footprints on the ground. One is much smaller than the other, kid's size, the other looks like work boots. My work boots to be exact. I know I'm looking at me and the kid's footprints from Friday night. What bothers me though are a third pair of prints. They look to be around the same size as mine, but the tread is different. And these prints look newer. Someone had been here after us. It could have been one of the guys from my work crew, but something in my gut tells me it's not. I can't help but think that it's the kid's foster father, or maybe the cop brother, who had been here snooping around. The thought that they had been here makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I want to call Dallas, to check in and make sure the kid is okay but I know I'm just being paranoid.
I scuff my feet across the floor as I get to work, clearing away all traces of any footprints. By the time I've hauled all the supplies out, the rest of the crew has arrived and we are ready to get back to work on the house.
I'm thankful for the work, it keeps my mind distracted from my worries. All I focus on right now is the hammer and nails in front of me. I'm so wrapped up in my work I almost didn't notice my boss talking to a man near the street. Not that I'd be able to hear what they were saying from on the roof, I still stop and watch the two of them. My boss is scribbling something on a piece of paper and handing it to the man, who then shakes his hand and leaves. Maybe the man was a contractor or supplier, or maybe another client. Either way, it's none of my business. But the footprints have put me a bit on edge, making me feel a bit suspicious of whoever that was.
"Curtis! Aren't you about done for the day" my boss calls up to me.
Startled, I look at my watch, its 3:00. The social worker was coming around 4:30 and I still had to make the forty minute drive back home and finish cleaning the house.
I hurry down the ladder, going to check out with my boss before I leave.
"Thanks again for letting me leave early. I really appreciate it. I promise it won't be a habit." I tell him.
"I know you won't. You're a hard worker, Curtis. I hope your meeting goes well today." he says earnestly.
"Thank you sir" I answered.
He claps me on the back and then goes back to work. I start up the truck and head back home, my anxiety growing as I get closer to home. What if I don't pass the inspection? What if they don't think I can take care of Soda? The thought of seeing Soda's heartbroken face if this doesn't work out just about kills me. No way I'll let that happen.
I shower as soon as I get home and then finish tidying up. Luckily me and the kid had cleaned really well yesterday so the house was in pretty good shape. I nervously sat on the couch, not sure what to do while I waited for Mrs. Lawrence to get here. I turned the tv on, and then turned it off. I straightened the already straight picture frames on the wall just for something to do. A knock on the door made me freeze. This was it.
I open the door and there stands Mrs. Lawrence. She's probably mid thirties, with dirty blonde hair she always pulls into a bun. She's pretty in a professional way. Her eyes are kind and caring, and she seems to really try her best to help the kids under her care.
"Hi Mrs. Lawrence. Please come in" I say, opening the door further to let her in. She smiles at me.
"Thank you, Darrel. The house looks very nice" She says as she comes into the house. I stand by the door, nervous but really trying not to show it. I can't blow this. She's taking in the living room, her eyes scanning around.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" I offer.
"No thank you. But I would like you to take me through the house. Show me where you and Soda would be staying. And then after we walk through the house, we'll have a chat." she says.
So I do. I show her my room, which was my old foster parent's bedroom. I show her the other two bedrooms, they're both on the small side but they both have a bed and a dresser. All that's missing from them is my brothers.
She doesn't say much on the tour. She seems to be studying everything, taking in every detail. I was worried she'd have a notebook or something, checking off all the things I said or did wrong, but she doesn't. Any notes she's taking are in her head.
We finish the tour in the kitchen. She looks through the refrigerator and the cabinets and then settles down at the kitchen table. I sit down across from her, my nervous hands want to drum on the table, so I clutch them in my lap instead.
"Well everything seems to be in order here" Mrs. Lawrence starts, "Everyone has their own room, there's plenty of food, and the house seems to be in solid condition."
"And you have steady employment, correct Darrel?"
I nod, "Yes mam. I work full time at a construction company and do part time work at a warehouse as well."
"And what about school? Weren't you planning on going to college?"
"I was. When I was graduating high school, my foster father had planned on trying to get custody of my brothers, so we could all be together while I went to he passed before he could. So now I'm trying to get custody"
"Couldn't you wait until you finished school? Or visit them while you went?" she asked.
I gritted my teeth, trying not to let my annoyance show.
"My brothers are more important than school. I'd do anything to keep us together. School can wait until, they can't. And I haven't been able to visit my youngest brother in nearly ten years. Nobody knows where he is".
She looks at me sympathetically.
"Sodapop has mentioned your younger brother to me, many times. In fact, anytime I would check in, all he could talk about were his brothers" she says, "I'm afraid I don't have any new information for you, but I do know my supervisor was working on it".
I nod.
"Besides," she continues "this meeting is about you getting custody of Sodapop. Do you feel prepared to take on the responsibility of caring for a teenage boy? For feeding him, enforcing the rules for him?".
I nod again, "Yes mam. I'm ready, I'd do anything to take care of Sodapop." and then because I can't leave him out, "Ponyboy too" I add.
She smiles and folds her hands together on the table.
"Well I think you're right. I think you will be a good guardian to your brothers, starting with Sodapop. I believe he will be well cared for here and his needs will be met."
Hope starts to blossom in my chest. It sounds like she's going to grant me custody. That I'll finally be able to bring Soda home!
She sees the excited look on my face and laughs softly, "Do you want him by tonight or is that too soon for you?"
"He can really come home tonight?" I ask, unable to keep the hope and excitement out of my voice.
"Yes, if you don't mind me using your phone, I can call the boys home and have him start packing. I can bring them the paperwork and bring him back here when its done."
"Yes please" I say, guiding her to the telephone.
I try to tamp down on my excitement, as the responsible adult it'd probably look bad to be celebrating like an idiot, but that's all I really want to do.
Mrs. Lawrence finishes her phone call and gathers her things, telling me she should be back with my brother in less than an hour.
I call Dallas while she's gone. I tell him I got custody and in pure Dallas fashion, all he does is let out a grunt. I tell him to bring the kid home in about an hour and a half, to make sure the social worker is gone before sending him in. And then I hesitated, wondering if I should let Dally know about the footprints I had seen at my work site. Figuring he should know, I tell him. He agrees that they seem suspicious and we both agree to keep a sharp eye on the kid.
After hanging up with Dallas, I'm not sure what to do while I wait. I'm full of excited energy, so I go and sit on the porch and wait for them to come back. They're back sooner than I'd thought they'd be, her car pulling up to the curb in front of the house.
The front door is open before the car is fully stopped, and Soda is out and running towards me. I vault off of the porch, running towards him and catching him in a bear hug. I crush him to me, and he crushes me back. He pulls back, a smile a mile wide splitting his face.
"Hey there, big brother" he says.
Soda's smile is infectious and I can't help but smile back. "Hey there, little buddy".
Mrs. Lawrence clears her throat, she's standing near the car, a backpack and a duffle bag at her feet.
"I'll let the two of you get settled. Darrel, I'll be checking in periodically to see how things are going. And Sodapop, you have my number, you know you can call me if you need anything."
"I know, thanks for everything Mrs. Lawrence" Soda says.
She waves over her shoulder and drives off, leaving the two of us standing in the driveway. With an arm still slung around Soda's shoulders, I go and pick up his duffle bag while he slings his backpack over his shoulder. We make our way into the house, our house now, and start to get Soda settled.
He drops his backpack in the kitchen, pulling out a big leather bound book and starts to go through it. I recognize it as our old family photo album.
"I can't believe you still have this" I say softly, running a hand over the cover.
"Of course I do. Its all I have left of…them" Soda says, his bright smile dimming just a little.
Trying not to bring the mood down with reminders of those who aren't here, I clap Soda on the shoulder and lead him down the hall.
"Pick a room" I say.
He just laughs and goes into the first one. "This one is fine. And if Pony wants to switch when he gets here, we can just swap."
I love his optimism that Pony will be home with us soon too. We start to unpack him. I roll my eyes as I open his duffel bag, his clothes were all balled up in it. I shake my head and pull some out and start to fold them, and then put them away in the dresser.
After a while I hear the front door open. Soda and I both peek out and see the kid making his way into the house. My heart lifts a little now that he's home.
"Hey kid" I greet.
"Guess who gets to move in here with you two tonight?" Soda asks excitedly.
"You got custody?" he asks, a smile to rival Soda's splitting his face now too.
"Sure did" I say, slinging an arm around Soda's shoulders and giving him a shake.
"Why don't me and the kid go start on dinner while you finish up in here" I tell Soda, looking pointedly at the pile of clothes he had dumped out. He laughs but easily agrees.
I head into the kitchen with the kid. I'm debating on whether to tell him about the footprints, I don't want to scare him but I also want to make sure he's being cautious.
"What's that?" he asks, pointing to the photo album we had left on the kitchen table.
"That's our old family photo album. Soda kept it with him all this time"
"Can I look at it?"
"Sure, I don't mind. Soda already went through it earlier, trying to find some pictures for his new room."
The kid sits down at the table, looking nervously at the book. He looks like he's fidgeting with something nervously under the table.
He looks so apprehensive that I'm about to tell him he doesn't have to if he doesn't want to when the phone rings in the living room. I make my way over to it and answer it.
"Hello, this is Mrs. Smith, from the Child Welfare office. I was looking to speak with Darrel Curtis."
This immediately sets me on edge. If they think they are taking Soda back after I just got him home, they are gonna have one helluva fight on their hands.
"Yes, this is Darrel Curtis" I say curtly.
"Oh hi Darrel. I spoke with you in the office the other day. I'm Mrs. Lawrence's supervisor"
I recognized her voice now, but I was still uneasy about why she was calling.
"I have an update on your brother, Ponyboy."
I take in a deep breath, heart pounding. It's been ten years since I've had an update on him, I'm scared whatever she's going to say is going to be bad.
"Yes?" I say, praying with all my might that he's okay. I see Soda come out of the bedroom down the hallway, he sees me clutching the phone like a lifeline. He comes over and perches on the arm of the chair, raising an eyebrow in question. I shake my head at him, trying to mentally tell him I'll fill him in after.
"We found him. We found your brother."
My world seems to stop turning. All I can focus on is the voice on the line. I can't believe that after all these years, someone has finally found Pony!
"Where? Where is he?" I can't keep the desperation out of my voice and I don't even care.
Soda is looking at me anxiously, desperate to know what's going on.
"Well it seems as if there has been a mix up as far as your brother is concerned. I do want to offer sincere apologies for the problems this mix up has caused you and your brothers."
'She can shove her apology' I think. All I care about is finding Pony.
"It seems he was in the process of being adopted and they preemptively changed his name. The adoption didn't go through but the name change did. That's why there was no record of Ponyboy Curtis in our files."
Anger boils within me, "How can someone do that? Just change his name like that? And shouldn't you have a record of that somewhere too?" anger is hot in my voice but I'm too worked up to try and cool it down. Soda puts a hand on my arm, giving it a small squeeze. It's a small gesture, but it does help me to calm down a bit. It wouldn't do us any good if I bit the head off the supervisor.
"I'll be honest, something like this has never happened before. It seems his old social worker retired before filing the correct paperwork and his new social worker took over after the name change. Believe me, there will be an investigation into the matter."
I sigh and run a hand through my hair, "So where is he?"
"He's currently in a foster family placement. Given the hour, I have to wait until tomorrow to go over there. But given the circumstances, I personally will be going over there to see him."
"Can I go with you? To see him?"
"Not this time I'm afraid. I need to make sure the identity is verified first. But I will get you a visitation as soon as I can" she promises.
"I want custody too. Not just a visit" I say.
"I understand. It seems we have a lot to work through with this case. But rest assured, I will do my best to get you back with your brother, if that is indeed what is best for him"
I sigh again, "Okay. Please tell him we love him and miss him when you see him tomorrow. And that I'm going to get him back"
"I will pass along your message. And I will call with any new updates. Now have a good night with Sodapop" she says and hangs up the phone.
I hang the phone up too. I hadn't realized how sweaty my hand had been and I wipe it on my jeans. Soda is practically bouncing on the chair next to me, eager to hear what I had found out.
"What'd she say?" he asks.
"She said she found him. She found Ponyboy" I say, still stunned.
Soda lets out a whoop and falls off of the chair, he gets up laughing. I can't help but chuckle at his antics too. He glances into the kitchen where the kid is sitting, no doubt to see if the kid saw him fall off the chair. The giddy expression leaves Soda's face and is replaced with one of concern.
"You okay, kid?" he asks.
My head snaps towards the kitchen too. The kid is sitting there, breathing hard and pale. It's like he didn't even hear Soda's question, he's too focused on the album in front of him.
I'm worried he's about to spiral into a panic so I snap, "Kid!"
He jumps, looking over at us. His eyes are big and scared and swimming in tears.
The sight breaks my heart. I slowly start to stand up, wanting to go to him and comfort him. Soda seems to have the same idea, slowly starting towards the kid too.
"Hey kid, whats the matter?" Soda asks in a gentle voice, like he's talking to a wounded animal.
The kids' eyes dart between the two of us. Back and forth. And then he bolts. He darts out the back door so fast that he's gone before I can process what even happened.
"Well shit" Soda says, turning to me he asks, "What the hell was that about?"
"I have no clue" I say, going into the kitchen to see what picture got him so worked up. Soda goes with me, looking worriedly between the table and the back door.
Sitting on the kitchen table is the open photo album. There are three pictures on the page, the fourth slot is empty. All the pictures were taken on the same day. I remember it was Easter. A fourth picture sits on the table next to the photo album, also taken on the same day. I pick it up to get a closer look and I hear Soda gasp. He grabs the photo from me, cradling it carefully in his hands.
"Darry, look" he whispers.
The photo is flipped over to the back. There written in childish crayon is an "S" and a heart.
A wave of realization crashes over me. It hits me as hard as a physical punch to the gut, making me want to double over on myself. I hear a ringing in my ears and I feel like I get tunnel vision, only able to focus on the photo that Soda is holding in shaky hands. I break my gaze from the photo, eyes going to the still open back door. It's pitch black outside, the darkness seems to have swallowed the boy whole.
Soda's desperate eyes, full of tears, meet my own. He must realize what this means too.
"It's him" I whisper.