Come Down From Your Fences

Chapter 12

"Ponyboy, I have no idea what to do," Darry said as he passed the mashed potatoes to Soda. As soon as they sat down to dinner, Pony told his brothers about the situation with Johnny and his parents. Pony was looking at Darry with an open, trusting expression and Darry didn't know how to break it to him that he didn't always have all the answers.

How he wished he could honestly tell him that everything was going to be okay, that he would be able to fix it. Nothing bad is ever going to happen to you again as long as I'm here to protect you, he yearned to say. He couldn't do it, he couldn't lie to Pony any more than he could lie to himself.

"We have to do something," Ponyboy responded. "We can't just sit back and watch them put Johnny in a boys' home."

"I'm not sayin' we won't be there for him, but it's not like they'll send him here to live with us," Darry answered, trying to keep his voice even and calm, trying to prevent the conversation from turning into an argument.

Ponyboy didn't say anything, just looked down at his plate and pushed his peas around aimlessly with his fork.

Darry sighed, "Kiddo, you don't honestly believe the state would let Johnny come live here?"

"Well ..."

"Pony, even I have to admit that sounds a bit far-fetched," Soda interrupted.

"Gee, you're a big help," Ponyboy said, a note of sarcasm in his voice.

"Ponyboy, Soda's right. I already have to jump through hoops to keep you two out of foster care. It's not like they'll up and give me a third kid to take care of."

Darry reached out and placed a hand on his youngest brother's arm in an attempt to offer comfort and to still his fidgeting. "I'm not saying this to be mean, ya know."

"I know, it's just ..."

"How come us greasers always get the tough breaks?" Soda asked, his tone light, but there was a hint of bitterness that wasn't lost on either brother.

Darry looked around their small house- shabby, but warm - kind of like their lives, at least when their parents were alive. Now the plaster on the walls was chipping away in a few spots, revealing the weaknesses beneath the surface. Is that what's happening to my family and friends? Are they crumbling before my eyes?

His thoughts turned to his parents. What would they do?

He remembered his mother - she doted on Johnny, trying to provide a bit of light in his dark world. The first time she had seen the bruises, he had expected her to ignore them or explain them away. The gang knew about the beatings, had probably known from the first day they'd met Johnny. Kids had a way with picking up on these things. Adults, however, were good at not noticing. They liked to blame scrapes and bruises on roughhousing and "boys being boys". Not his mom, she knew right away - and she was pissed.

His parents had disappeared for about an hour that day. Darry didn't know where they went, but he liked to imagine them knocking on the Cade's door - his mom giving Johnny's mother a piece of her mind and his dad flattening his worthless bastard of a father with a single punch. When you're ten, he smiled to himself, you like to think your parents are invincible superheroes.

After that day, Johnny was at their house as much as possible. The bruises would fade, but were always soon replaced with new ones. His dark, trusting eyes slowly became wary and shadowed. Darry knew it ate away at his mother, that she felt helpless.

She would of fought for him, Darry thought. Even if she knew it would be in vain, she would of tried.

Darry took a deep breath and tightened his grip on his brother's arm. "Alright, I will talk to the social worker tomorrow."

A smile spread across Pony's face and Soda's mouth dropped open in amazement. "I'm not making any promises," Darry quickly added. "I'm just going to ask some questions and let them know we're concerned."

Darry couldn't continue what he was going to say because he was suddenly enveloped in a hug from his youngest brother. "Thanks, Darry," Ponyboy said, his voice muffled by Darry's shirt.

Darry raised his arms, returning the hug, surprised to feel his eyes fill with tears. "You're welcome, little buddy," he said softly.

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"Hello, Mr. Curtis. Please, have a seat." Darry was surprised to see that the woman who greeted him wasn't much older than he was.

The name on her desk was Sarah Martin and it fit her appearance - simple and plain. Her dark blonde hair was pulled back into a neat bun and she wore glasses that framed a pair of warm brown eyes. She looked friendly and kind, like someone you would trust with teaching kindergarten, not someone who you'd expect to put up a fight for a crippled greaser who'd killed another boy.

Darry was convinced this was a lost cause before he'd even pulled out the chair and sat down. Sarah looked down at a large, open file on her desk. "I see you're here to discuss the situation with Jonathan Cade."

Darry cleared his throat and nervously smoothed his tie. "Yes, my brothers and I want to find out what the state is planning to do with him once he's released from the hospital."

"You realize that it is a bit unorthodox for me to discuss the case of a minor with someone who isn't a member of his family?"

Darry narrowed his eyes. "Well," he started, measuring his words carefully, "isn't that the point? His family gave up their rights. We are his family."

"I respect that you believe that, but the state doesn't see it that way." She took her glasses off, almost as if to punctuate the sentence. Darry wondered if she practiced the move, planning the best moment for it in all of her conversations.

"Where was the state all those years his parents were beating on him?" Darry motioned to the papers in front of her. "That's a pretty thick file you've got there. Are you telling me that no teachers ever came forward, no neighbors ever called in a complaint?"

"I won't lie, there are reports from over the years. All made by the same person." Sarah looked at Darry pointedly. "Your mother."

Darry felt his chest swell with pride. Go, Mom, he thought. Pride was quickly replaced with anger. This could have all been solved years ago.

"Obviously, nothing was done about it. Why should I believe you are going to act in his best interest now?" He looked around her tiny office and spotted a diploma on the wall. It was dated for the year before and he let out a cynical laugh.

"Geez," he said harshly, "is this your first case? What, do they dump all the poor, unfortunate kids on the new case workers? Get your feet wet, get in some practice for when it's time to help someone who matters?"

Her professional veneer was beginning to slip. "That's not fair."

"But it's true," he countered.

"Just because this is my first case, doesn't mean I'm not going to do my damnedest to do what is right for that boy."

"Prove it." Darry was surprised to find himself enjoying this. Her face was becoming red with anger. She was flustered and he was becoming more determined.

"How?" she asked, her eyes flashing.

"Don't dump him the minute you have another case to work on, another cause. Don't let him get lost in the system that hasn't done a damn thing for him so far."

"Mr. Curtis," she said coolly, "I think I might surprise you."

Darry crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "For Johnny's sake, I hope you're right."