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It was the start of October, the gang hadn’t had much to smile about in the past few weeks, still reeling from the events of September, and the dual funeral that had been held.
Ponyboy was beginning to feel like himself again, and decided to clean around the house. He hated sitting idle, especially if he didn’t have any schoolwork, and wanted to make sure Sodapop and Darry came home to a nice, clean house. Besides, it would be nice to make the house clean for the upcoming birthday gathering they would be having for Sodapop’s birthday.
Ponyboy had only meant to go into Darry’s room to collect any dirty clothes. He hadn’t meant to snoop around, but he spotted the leather journal sitting beside his oldest brother’s bed, and he couldn’t help himself.
He sat on the floor next to Darry’s bed, and opened the journal. The achingly familiar handwriting on the first page had Ponyboy’s heart skipping a beat.
For when you don’t have your mama and I to talk to – Pop
A memory suddenly came to Ponyboy, of their last Christmas, and of Darry opening up a gift from their parents, the same leather journal.
Cleaning forgotten, Ponyboy flipped the page with his father’s handwriting, and opened up to the first entry, written in Darry’s careful handwriting. He always had the best handwriting of the three brothers, something Ponyboy was supremely jealous of.
December 25, 1966
Pop got me a new journal. I’ve been asking for one, since I’m getting older, and I want to have something to talk to that isn’t everyone else.
Ponyboy and I gave Soda a vest with his name on it, I don’t think he’s ever going to wear anything else. Ma loved the new necklace we all pitched in on. Pop picked it out, and we all saved up for the year to get it for her.
The boys and I gave Pop a new pair of driving gloves, and he acted like they were made of gold. Pony couldn’t stop laughing over his reaction.
I think I’ll get Pony a journal for his birthday. He seemed really excited about this one, and I know how good he does in English class, so I think he’d like having his own. I’ll talk to Pop about where he found this journal, and get one for Pony.
Ponyboy grinned at the entry, a bubble of bittersweet warmth in his chest as he thought back to their last Christmas together. Ma’s necklace had been Sodapop’s idea, and Ponyboy had been elated at the thought of giving his mother something nice to wear. Pa had helped the boys find one that fit within the budget the three wanted to spend, and Ma’s reaction had been everything.
Smile still on his face, Ponyboy looked to the next entry, noted ten days later.
January 5, 1967
Ponyboy and Soda woke me up this morning, I don’t think they realize yet that they’re too big to be jumping all over me.
I don’t mind it, they’re happy, and it makes Ma and Pop laugh. Plus, it means I get to wrestle both of them and prove that I’m still the strongest out of all three of us.
Pop’s taking me to the rodeo later today, then this weekend everyone’s gonna be over for my birthday. I think Ma’s convinced Dally to come, which makes things even better. I haven’t seen Dal in a while. I’m worried about him, but Ma’s been getting him to come by every so often, so I’m hoping this weekend will be the change we all need.
I miss my best friend a whole lot.
I hope he’ll be there.
Their birthday wakeups were some of Ponyboy’s favorite memories.
On his birthday, it usually started by Darry sneaking in, and poking at Ponyboy’s sides until he woke up laughing, curling up to protect himself from his brother’s tickling assault. Ponyboy enjoyed Darry’s birthday mornings the most. He and Sodapop would sneak out of their room, and tiptoe into Darry’s bedroom, giving each other a mischievous look before taking a flying leap into their oldest brother’s bed and landing on top of him.
Ma and Pop would usually enter the doorway, hearing all the noise, and the best mornings would be when Pop would join in, grabbing one of his boys by the ankle and dragging them towards the edge of the bed as they shrieked with laughter.
The comment about Dally made Ponyboy’s smile fade. He had a vague memory of how Dally was prior to the move to New York. He remembered Darry and Dally being inseparable, and always thinking of them as a duo, and Dally being a fixture in their home for the longest time.
Ma was the one who kept Dally from disappearing from their lives after he returned to Tulsa. He came back with a chip on his shoulder, which Ponyboy knew hurt Darry. It was bittersweet, looking back on the days before Dally’s move to New York. Ponyboy loved his family, and those were the best times of their lives. He would be lying if he said he didn’t miss those days more than anything in the entire world.
Ponyboy caught sight of the date of the next entry, and he felt immediate chills run through him.
January 10, 1967
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It’s all my fault.
Maybe I shouldn’t have made such a big deal about having Mama’s chocolate cake. They shouldn’t have had to go out. I should have just told them I was gonna pick it up, they wouldn’t have had to go out on their own.
I had to check if it was them at the hospital. Pony and Soda wanted to come in, but I told them no. I can’t get their faces out of my brain. I could tell it was Ma. She was all torn up, and they said she died because her head got hit by some flying pieces.
I only knew it was Pop because of his ring and the bracelet he wore for us three that Ma gave him for his birthday last year. He was wearing the gloves we gave him for Christmas. His face wasn’t even there. I didn’t get to see my Pop’s face. They said they found him wrapped around Ma, but it wasn’t enough. He was dead as soon as the train hit them.
I’m meeting with the social service people tomorrow.
Maybe I can convince Ma Matthews to take Pony and Soda if I’m not allowed to? Then they wouldn’t have to switch schools, and I’d still get to see them.
Ponyboy screamed when I told him. I don’t think I’ll forget that.
Soda was with Two-Bit, so I’m glad he had them.
I can’t let them get taken away from them. I’ll need to get a job, so that means no college. I’ll use the money Ma and Pop set aside for me to pay off the house for the next few months, and make sure the boys eat, but I need to get a job soon.
I don’t know what to do. Ma and Pop were so good at taking care of all of us.
I’m scared.
Tears instantly filled Ponyboy’s eyes, and a sob caught in his throat as he read Darry’s words.
He remembered screaming at Darry to let him see Ma and Pop, to make sure it was them. He had screamed that he didn’t trust Darry, that Darry was wrong, and that it was somebody else’s parents (a secret, angry, small part of himself wanted to believe it was Johnny’s parents in the hospital room).
The thought of his brother having to stare at their parents’ bodies, of Darry only being able to identify their father’s body because of his gloves, it made Ponyboy want to curl into a ball and never leave the house.
He remembered the look on Darry’s face at the hospital, after he had stepped out of the room. He hadn’t registered it then, but he could picture the haunted look in his oldest brother’s eyes, the lack of childhood innocence that had always had a glimmer in Darry’s gaze.
January 24, 1967
The gang came to the funeral. We had it at the church, and Ma and Pop were buried next to each other.
The social services lady said I could keep the boys with me, but I had to prove I could take care of them. She reminds me of the Socs, all up and mighty just because we live on the East Side. She made hints to Pony and Soda getting sent to a boys’ home in case I can’t handle it.
I told Dally. He hasn’t been the same since the funeral.
He’s the only one that I’ve told about what she said, and about how the boys can’t get into trouble. The others aren’t gonna get why I’m stepping away from the gang, but I don’t care. I can’t risk us getting separated.
I found a job hauling roofing around the city. It doesn’t pay much, but it’ll be enough to keep the boys fed, and keep the house.
Sodapop’s been making noise about dropping out of school at the end of the year. I don’t want him to, but he says he wants to help out and get a job. I hate that he can see we’re already struggling.
As long as Ponyboy doesn’t see it, that’s what I care about. He doesn’t need that. I know he blames himself for Ma and Pop, I hear him tell Sodapop about it.
It’s not his fault.
The sob broke out of him, and Ponyboy let the tears fall as he read Darry’s words.
Darry had sacrificed the money their parents put away for his college journey. He had held them together while pushing back his own tears and sadness.
Ponyboy had been so angry with Darry when they were at the funeral. He had thought his oldest brother hadn’t cared, that Darry was an emotionless monster as their parents were lowered into the ground.
Now he knew.
If Darry had fallen apart, like Sodapop and Ponyboy had, things would have been wrecked. He couldn’t fall apart, not if he wanted to keep the family together.
Ponyboy sent a silent, thankful thought towards Dally, hoping that wherever his friend was, he knew how grateful Ponyboy was to him for keeping Darry going.
February 12, 1967
I’m so tired.
The job’s been going alright.
Ponyboy’s talking to me less and less these days. He talks to Soda no problem, and he’s got Johnny, which I’m grateful for. He used to talk to me all the time.
I think he’s angry that I stepped away from the gang.
I know I’ve been protective over him and Soda lately, and I try telling him that social services might take him away if things go wrong, but he’s been so angry.
I don’t blame him.
I’m angry at myself. I’m not around enough, and when I am home, I’m cooking and cleaning. I need Soda and Ponyboy to be kids still. Soda’s getting too worried, and Ponyboy’s getting too angry. Whatever I can do to make them feel like kids again, I’ll do it.
Ponyboy couldn’t stop reading and couldn’t stop wanting to reach into the past and kick himself.
How many times did Darry give up eating dinner in order to make sure there was enough for Sodapop and Ponyboy? How many times did he miss a meal because there wasn’t enough to go around?
Thinking back, Ponyboy remembered the rare dinner when Dally and Johnny would join them, and Darry would serve each of them first, making the excuse that he didn’t feel well when there wasn’t enough for him. He remembered Dally rolling his eyes, and grabbing Darry’s plate, pushing half his food onto the other’s dish, and shoving it back towards him.
July 27, 1967
Ponyboy’s fourteen today.
I feel like every time we talk, we just start arguing. Soda’s decided to drop out of school next year and he’s got a job at DX, and now Ponyboy’s making noises about dropping out. I think he’s picked up on money being tight.
I think Ma would be real sad knowing I’m not eating as much, but Pop would understand. I remember him doing the same some years, so he would know what to do.
I got Ponyboy a journal. It’s not identical, but I gave him a nice one, and Soda got him some good pens, and he seemed real happy about that. He gave me a hug, and I about near cried.
I miss being able to hang out with all of them.
Ponyboy specifically requested chocolate cake, so I made some. Even though we have our differences, he loves my chocolate cake, so I was happy that he asked for it.
The whole gang came over, even Dally, and I know that meant the world to Ponyboy.
Dal and I haven’t talked in a while, but I’m thankful he’s keeping an eye on the boys for me while I’m working.
Johnny’s staying the night, which I’m happy about, but I also worry about him.
I haven’t told him about the adoption papers. I haven’t told anybody about them.
I wonder if we would have gotten to stay together, if Ma and Pop had managed to make it to the courthouse.
I’m not letting Johnny get hurt. I’ll keep him and Pony and Soda as safe as I can, and if I can’t, I know Dally will.
Knowing he was alone helped Ponyboy. He didn’t have to hold back his sobs as he looked at the next entry, knowing exactly what Darry was writing about.
September 12, 1967
I’m a monster.
I hit him.
I hit my baby.
Oh my God I hit him.
There’s a Soc dead, and Ponyboy and Johnny are gone, and it’s all my fault.
I was just so scared and so worried, I thought something happened to him, and I overreacted.
I can’t believe I hit him.
Ma and Pop would be so disappointed.
I need to throw up again, I can’t even look in the mirror.
They deserve so much better.
He had to break, pulling his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his jeans. Ponyboy had forgiven Darry the second they had reunited in the hospital. Johnny had helped him understand everything that had happened, going back over the evening again and again.
Darry had apologized every day since, and reading his words made Ponyboy’s heart hurt even more for his oldest brother.
September 13, 1967
Soda won’t talk to me.
When he does, he’s all quiet. I know part of it is because of Ponyboy, and part of it is because Sandy’s not responding to his letters, but I wouldn’t blame him if he doesn’t want to talk to me. I wouldn’t want to talk to me.
Dally knows where the boys are. He came over this morning to talk after the cops left. The whole gang met at the house, and it was the first time in my life I ever wanted to hit Dally. Sodapop looked angrier than I’d ever seen him.
Dally understood, though. As much as I hate it, I know that if he’s gotten them somewhere, they’ve got to be safe.
He does a better job taking care of them than I ever did.
September 14, 1967
One of the Soc girls came by today. Her name was Cherry, and Two-Bit was angrier than ever when he saw her. Apparently, her boyfriend’s the Soc who Johnny killed.
She said she was sorry about what happened, and wanted to give us some help about finding out what the Socs are doing.
September 15, 1967
Paul came around to the site today.
I haven’t seen him in years. The only reason we became friends was because Dally moved, and I didn’t really have anybody in high school.
I didn’t want to talk to him, but he was trying to get me to tell him where Johnny and Pony were hiding. He was acting like we were still friends
When I left work, him and a couple of his buddies were waiting for me. Christ, I haven’t been in a fight in a while, and they got a couple of good hits in. I’m gonna be feeling things in the morning for sure.
I had to hide the blood from Soda, but he’s been in his own world because of everything, so I think he didn’t notice, which is good.
Ponyboy wondered if Sodapop had ended up figuring out that Darry had been jumped.
The idea of his strong, fearless brother being cornered by the same Socs who had nearly drowned Ponyboy terrified him, and he hoped that Darry had gotten some hits of his own in.
September 16, 1967
Nothing. I haven’t slept in my bed yet. I can’t leave the phone, not if there’s a chance he’ll call.
Dally spent the night. I think Steve and Ace are gonna stay over. I want everyone to be close.
September 17, 1967
The Soc girl came around again. Apparently, they’re planning a rumble.
I’m sorry Ma. I’m sorry Pop.
I gotta go back in.
September 18, 1967
Dally’s leaving in the morning to check on them. He asked if I wanted to go with him. I told him I didn’t think it was a good idea. He called me an idiot and said me and Pony just needed to talk.
Pony doesn’t look at me the same way he looks at Dally. I’m glad he’s trusting Dal.
Ponyboy reread the entry again.
Dally had asked Darry to go with him.
A cold fear gripped him, and Ponyboy couldn’t help but wonder that, if Darry had gone with Dally to visit them in Windrixville, would Darry have been the one in the hospital? It was horrifying to think about.
September 19, 1967
He’s back home.
His door’s open, and I can see him and Soda in the bed. They’re both asleep, and I feel like I can breathe.
I think I’ll try and visit Dally in the hospital tomorrow, and maybe Johnny if he’s up for it. I know Ponyboy wants to be hopeful, but from what the doctors told me, I don’t think Johnny’s gonna make it. I want to see him and tell him about Ma and Pop’s plans to adopt him before it’s too late.
I think we’re okay, though. Pony gave me a hug, and Soda smiled at me, so I think we’re gonna be okay.
I’m worried to death about what’s gonna happen, though. The rumble’s happening tomorrow night, and Ponyboy wants to be part of it, but I’m scared he’s gonna get even more hurt.
I’m just glad he’s home now. He looks like Burt Lancaster with that hair, and I know he probably hates it. That kid loves his hair more than anything.
Maybe I can help him fix it up, after everything’s over with.
A wet laugh escaped from Ponyboy, and he ran a hand through his hair. His roots were just starting to peek through the platinum, and he made a note to himself to ask Darry for help.
September 20, 1967
It’s all my fault.
Johnny’s dead, and Dally’s dead, and it’s all my fault.
If I hadn’t hit Ponyboy, he wouldn’t have run off. I can’t believe I was so stupid.
Dally called me. His last words were to me.
I can still hear his voice. He wouldn’t stop apologizing for everything. I haven’t heard him cry since he told me he was moving away. He sounded so scared. I can’t stop seeing him when I close my eyes.
Pony and I finally have something in common.
Both our best friends are dead, and it’s all my fault.
Ponyboy dropped the journal, held his head in his hands, and cried.
“Ponyboy?”
The sound of Sodapop’s voice came from the doorway, and Ponyboy’s head snapped up. He saw his older brother register the tears streaming down his cheeks, the journal held in his hands, and Sodapop immediately rushed to his side, sitting down beside him, and wrapping Ponyboy up in his arms as tightly as possible.
“He’s been hiding so much, Soda.” Ponyboy sobbed, falling into his brother’s hug, allowing himself to break.
Somehow, without releasing Ponyboy, Sodapop gently took the journal from his hands, and flipped it back to the beginning pages. Ponyboy heard his quiet intake of breath at the opening note from their father, and tried to keep his sobs quiet as Sodapop read.
It took a few minutes, but Ponyboy eventually heard Sodapop let out another, shakier breath, and the journal was closed. “Christ.”
Ponyboy shifted, pulling away from Sodapop slightly to look at him. “Did he ever talk to you?”
Sodapop sniffed harshly, reaching up to wipe at his wet eyes. “Never. I mean, when I told him I wouldn’t be going back to school this year, I kind of hinted that I’d like to help out around more, and getting a job would do that. That’s what convinced him in the end, but he still didn’t like it. That’s all.”
“I didn’t… I didn’t think he blamed himself for everybody.” Ponyboy whispered.
Sodapop brushed a hand over Ponyboy’s hair. “He had to take responsibility of us so quick, it doesn’t surprise me, really.”
Ponyboy took a breath, glancing down at the journal that was now laying on the ground. “You think Dally knew all this?”
“If anyone knew, it was Dally.” Sodapop said, his voice firm. “Even after he got back and was different, he and Darry were still best friends. Especially after Ma and Pop died, they would sit on the porch after they thought we went off to bed and talk.”
“I never noticed.” Ponyboy nearly laughed after making that comment. He didn’t notice much about Darry.
“Darry didn’t want us to. He never wanted to look weak. He was so hung up about being like Pop, and keeping us together, he probably didn’t want any hints at the fact he might not be able to do it all.”
“Ma Matthews probably knew. Remember how, right after the crash, she was inviting us over every week for dinner?” Ponyboy loved that woman. His mother’s best friend was a godsend, and without her, he didn’t think he would have been able to stay with his brothers. “I remember hearing her talking to the social services lady about how good of a boy Darry was, and how he took real good care of us.”
Sodapop’s voice was quiet as he reached down, opening up one of the journal pages. “Do you think… it didn’t seem like that, but do you think he wishes…?”
“I don’t know. I’m scared that he does.” Ponyboy admitted. “I don’t even think he knows how much he’s done for us.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“Hell, Sodapop, I never knew all that money for the funeral and the house came from his college money. I can’t believe he was so quick to give it all up.”
Sodapop nodded, his voice shaking once again. “He was so ready to give it all up for us.”
The two brothers clung to each other, silent tears streaming down their faces. A fierce fire of determination lit within both of them, and they parted with identical looks of purpose on their faces.
Ponyboy replaced the journal where he had found it, careful not to disturb anything else on Darry’s bedside table.
He and Sodapop made their way around the house, working together to get things as clean as possible before Darry’s arrival home.
Once finished cleaning, they made their way to the kitchen. Sodapop attempted to begin making a chocolate cake, seeing as how they were out, but Ponyboy swiftly stepped in, taking over the job as a pouting Sodapop set about cooking dinner. They stayed silent, the only sound being the clanging of pots and pans, the sound of the oven beeping, and the occasional request for ingredients.
They lost track of time, and it was only when Sodapop was pulling a meatloaf from the oven, and the cooling chocolate cake had received it’s frosting, it was then that they heard the sound of the front door opening and closing, and Darry’s boots making his footsteps heavier than usual.
“Boys? You home?”
Sodapop ruffled Ponyboy’s still-bleached hair with a soft grin. “In the kitchen, Superman!”
Darry entered the kitchen, eyes slightly wide at the sight before him.
Ponyboy leaned back against the wall, and took in his oldest brother, looking at him as Sodapop moved around them to finish preparing their meal.
When he had returned home from Windrixville, Ponyboy had only seen Darry as he usually looked, tired, tense, and a glimmer of anger behind his eyes. Thinking back after reading his journal, Ponyboy knew that the anger was aimed towards himself, not towards anyone else around him.
Now, looking at his brother, Ponyboy could see that the exhaustion was still there, and there were lines in Darry’s face that shouldn’t be on a twenty-one-year-old’s face. However, since things had slowed down, there was no tension in Darry’s shoulders. He still had the worry in his eyes, but it was more so worry for how his brothers were doing, but the fear was gone.
“What’s all this?” Darry asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked around.
“Soda and I wanted to make dinner tonight.” Ponyboy said, a small smile on his face that Darry returned. “Can we… have a camp out?”
There was surprise on his oldest brother’s face. “Really? We haven’t done that since…”
Sodapop nodded fervently. “We don’t need to call anyone over. Just… just us three?” His face turned playful. “Pony made chocolate cake, since he said y’all apparently think mine’s too sweet.”
Ponyboy rolled his eyes. “Eating the frosting is like eating a spoonful of sugar, Sodapop Curtis, and you know it!” He yelped as Sodapop lunged at him, ducking around Darry and grabbing onto his brother’s shoulders to keep him between him and Sodapop. Darry laughed at their antics, a sound that Ponyboy hadn’t heard in years, and that made his smile grow.
“Easy, little buddies.” Darry put a gentle hand on Sodapop’s shoulder, pushing him back lightly, and glanced over his shoulder at Ponyboy. “I think a camp out sounds perfect.” Ponyboy beamed, and Sodapop let out a whoop as he grabbed the plates, meatloaf, and green beans he had made, balancing it all in his arms as he went to the living room.
Before Darry could go off to his bedroom to change, Ponyboy quickly reached out, wrapping his arms around Darry’s middle in the tightest hug he could manage.
After a moment, he felt Darry return the hug, his strong arms creating a ring of protection around Ponyboy, and the youngest Curtis let out a contented sigh as he snuggled against his big brother.
“Thank you, Darry.” He whispered.
One of Darry’s hands cupped the back of his head. “For what, baby?”
The nickname made Ponyboy want to cling to his brother forever, and tears pricked his eyes as he inhaled. “Everything.”
There was another moment, this one with Darry’s hand stilling, before his grip on Ponyboy tightened, and he felt a kiss pressed to the top of his head. He didn’t say anything, but Ponyboy could feel the slight tremble in Darry’s hands, and could hear his shaky inhale.
He released Darry, and let his older brother collect himself, turning around to grab the plate that held the chocolate cake before going into the living room, where Sodapop had gathered every blanket and pillow from around the house, and had created a mountain of plush, cushiness for them to settle into.
Ponyboy settled in, and a few minutes later, Darry joined them, giving them a soft smile as he moved into the spot left for him between his brothers. As soon as he sat down, Sodapop and Ponyboy latched onto him, sandwiching him between them, and his laugh was quiet as he squirmed around, freeing his arms enough to pull them both close.
“I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but if it gets me a clean house and dinner made on time, I’ll take it.” He said, amusement on his face.
Sodapop and Ponyboy exchanged a look and a grin before Sodapop separated to flick on the television and start dishing out the dinner he had put together.
“Hey, Dar?” Ponyboy asked as the brothers settled together. Darry looked at him, not wanting to speak around his food. “You think… maybe tomorrow when you’re off… you can help me out with my hair? This color’s killing me, man.”
Darry’s eyes lit up, and Sodapop’s face filled with pride towards Ponyboy.
Darry put down his fork, and ruffled Ponyboy’s hair. “Sure thing, baby. We’ll get you looking all tuff.”
Ponyboy beamed, and turned back to the television, leaning into his brother. He watched Darry that night. He listened to his oldest brother make comments about the show Sodapop had picked, and he asked questions about his job. Sodapop snarked back at Darry, and not-so-subtly put an extra helping on his big brother’s plate. If Darry noticed, he didn’t say anything, and simply looked content to sit between his brothers.
Ponyboy didn’t know everything his oldest brother was feeling, but he knew enough to be even more determined to take care of him, just like Darry had always taken care of him and Sodapop.