Survive: A Darrel Curtis Love Story

Chapter 9

~ Chapter 9 ~

Ponyboy's Point of View

After some more questions, the cop left. The whole time Darry was giving me a look that if I even nodded in Darry's direction, he would make the cop back off. I didn't have to nod at him once. I just answered everything, but before we could even leave the hallway, a nurse was in front of us. Her hair was in tight curls around her head like a helmet. 

"You came in with that fire, didn't you?" 

"Yes," Darry answers for me before I even got a chance, not that I minded. I was thirsty. "Dallas Winston--Do you know him?"

"Yeah, is he alright?" 

"He's alright, he should be out in a few days at most," the nurse says. I let out a sigh of relief. I hadn't even noticed how bad I was holding it. Soda does too, he calls a hand on my back. I lean my shoulder against Johnny. He looked the most relieved. 

"What about Blair?" I ask fast. My voice was rough with smoke and thirst. "She's…She's not doing well. She's getting some plasma and they're determining a plan of action now." A plan of action? How does a doctor not already have a plan of action? This is Oklahoma, fires aren't too common in the summer. Nobody usually gets burned this bad, we'd hear in the newspaper if there was one. 

"Can we see Dallas?" Sodapop asks, stepping forward. 

"Maybe not tonight, you can come by tomorrow," she says. We return to the same waiting room, hopefully waiting for news on Blair. Soda goes right back to messing around with reporters and other cops and nurses while they took photos. I was wondering if we could get these photos because they'd be probably the funniest ones we've got, especially of Soda. I know he was trying to diffuse the tension and make Johnny and I laugh. It worked. 

Finally, even Sodapop got tired of the reporter--- he gets bored with the same old thing after a time--- and stretching out on the long bench, he put his head in Darry's lap and went to sleep. I guess both of them were tired--- it was late at night and I knew they hadn't had much sleep during the week. Darry tilted his head back and slept too.

Johnny leaned his head on my shoulder. We talked quietly for a little while until he fell asleep. I stayed awake, I couldn't shut my mind off. I kept thinking about the reporters and all the photos they took. Jerry insisted it was because Soda and Darry just looked so good it would appeal to the public to see them in the paper. I couldn't argue. Even with bags beneath their eyes, they looked good. Johnny and I looked like we'd rolled around in the soot like it was snow. I know if we cleaned up nice they'd be taking pictures of us too. 

Even while I was answering questions I remembered that it had been only a few hours since I was sleeping off a smoke in the corner of the church. Already it was an unreal dream and yet, at the time I couldn't have imagined any other world. Finally, the reporters started to leave, along with the police. One of them turned and asked, "What would you do right now if you could do anything you wanted?" I looked at him tiredly. "Take a bath." They thought that was pretty funny, but I meant it. I felt lousy. The hospital got real quiet after they left. The only noise was the nurse's soft footsteps and Soda's light breathing.

Darry looked down at him and grinned half-heartedly. I thought he was still asleep. "He didn't get much sleep this week," he said softly. "He hardly slept at all."

"Hhhmmmm," Soda said drowsily, "you didn't either."

The nurses wouldn't tell us anything about Johnny and Dally, so Darry got hold of the doctor. The doctor told us that he would talk only to the family, but Darry finally got it through the guy's head that we were about as much family as Dally and Johnny had.

Dally would be okay after two or three days in the hospital, he said. One arm was badly burned and would be scarred for the rest of his life, but he would have full use of it in a couple of weeks. Dally'll be okay, I thought. Dallas is always okay. He could take anything. It was Blair I was worried about.

She was in critical condition. Her back had been broken when that big piece of the roof fell on her. She was in severe shock and suffering from third-degree burns. They were doing everything they could to ease the pain, although since her back was broken they guessed she couldn't even feel the burns below her waist. She kept calling for Johnny and Ponyboy. The nurses said she was delusional and we couldn't see her, even though she clearly wanted us there. We could see her if she lived to tomorrow. 

If she lived… If? Please, no, I thought. Please not "if." The blood was draining from my face and Darry put an arm across my shoulder and squeezed hard…. Even if he lived he'd be crippled for the rest of his life.

"You wanted it straight and you got it straight," the doctor said. "Now go home and get some rest.

I was trembling. A pain was growing in my throat and I wanted to cry, but greasers don't cry in front of strangers. Some of us never cry at all. Like Dally and Two-Bit and Tim Shepard--- they forgot how at an early age. I thought Darry had too up until today.

Blair crippled for life? I'm dreaming, I thought in panic, I'm dreaming. I'll wake up at home or in the church and everything'll be like it used to be. But I didn't believe myself. Even if Blair did live she'd be crippled and never walk or hang out with us again. She'd have nowhere to stay. The church was gone and I didn't hear her say anything about anyone else she could stay with. I'd assumed the church was her best option. 

Blair could stay with us. She would have to. Darry couldn't tell her no. Not after she saved our lives. We could find some empty room. Soda and I could move to the basement or we could finally go through mom and dad's room and let her stay there. 

I didn't trust myself to speak. If I said one word, the hard knot in my throat would swell and I'd be crying in spite of myself.

I took a deep breath and kept my mouth shut. Soda was awake by then, and although he looked stony-faced, as if he hadn't heard a word the doctor had said, his eyes were bleak and stunned. Serious reality has a hard time coming through to Soda, but when it does, it hits him hard. He looked like I felt when I had seen that black-haired Soc lying doubled up and still in the moonlight.

Johnny looked horrified. His hands were shaking and it didn't take a genius to know he blamed himself for getting his foot caught in that board. It wasn't his fault and everyone but him knew that. None of this was anyone's fault, at least to me. Everything could always be connected back.

If Johnny's foot hadn't got stuck. If we never went to the Dairy Queen. If Dally never drove her back. If Blair never went to Tulsa. If she didnt let us stay at the church. If we never found the church. If Johnny never killed the soc. If the socs never jumped us. If Darry never hit me. If I hadn't fallen asleep at the lot. If we never sat with Cherry and Marcia at the movies. 

Darry was rubbing the back of my head softly. "We'd better go home. We can't do anything here."

In our Ford, I was suddenly overcome by sleepiness. I leaned back and closed my eyes and we were home before I knew it. Soda was shaking me gently. "Hey, Ponyboy, wake up. You still got to get to the house."

"Hmmmmm," I said sleepily and lay down in the seat. I couldn't have gotten up to save my life. I could hear Soda and Darry, but as if from a great distance.

"Oh, come on, Ponyboy," Soda pleaded, shaking me a little harder, "we're sleepy, too."

I guess Darry was tired of fooling around because he picked me up and carried me in.

"He's getting mighty big to be carried," Soda said. I wanted to tell him to shut up and let me sleep but I only yawned.

"He's sure lost a lot of weight," Darry said. I didn't think I weighed much to begin with, at least compared to Darry when he was age. He was big even then, probably from playing so much football. 

I thought sleepily that I should at least pull off my shoes but I didn't. I went to sleep the minute Darry tossed me on the bed. I'd forgotten how soft a bed really was.