Helpless

Soda

(Soda)

"What's taking so long?" I impatiently asked Darry, remembering the night Pony was diagnosed.

"Relax. You're making me nervous," my brother mumbled, his head bent over a pile of forms.

"What are you filling out now?"

"The same stuff I've filled out fifteen hundred times before. I swear they just throw these things out."

I lit a cigarette; I knew I shouldn't be smoking, but I couldn't help it. I was never this anxious. We'd find out tonight whether there was any point in continuing chemo or if the cancer had advanced too far to save him.

It's going to be fine, I told myself. Everything's going to be fine, and you'd better figure out some way to get a grip because Pony's gonna be in a lot worse shape than you and you've got to be strong for him.

It had always amazed what a profound effect I had on my younger brother. Even when he was little, still a baby, he'd stop crying the moment I walked into a room. Growing up, he asked for me more than both of my parents when he was sick or had nightmares. He'd had the same one for weeks on end after Mom and Dad died; sometimes he'd wake up screaming and Darry and I would come running, other times I'd find him on the floor beside my bed in the morning. But when I finally moved into his room and started sleeping with him they'd nearly stopped altogether. And now, through this, the nightmare none of us could wake up from, I was the one he wanted the most often.

I don't understand it, I thought, watching my frowning older brother. I felt bad for Darry; he tried, he really did, but when Pony got scared or really miserable he wanted me and me alone. It scared me sometimes, how badly he needed me, but not half as much as I was frightened by how much I needed him.

He's never judged me, I thought. He's never left me either. Not like Sandy.

Sandy...

I lit another cigarette, pacing down the hallway, hating myself. Sandy always came up when I worried about Pony; it had the week Pony had run away.

"I love you, Soda," she'd told me over the phone. "But not enough to give up my chance of a life. Marrying you is a ticket to nowhere, hon. We'll live in this crappy neighborhood and raise hoods...damnit, baby, please, that ain't the life I want. I've gotta get outta here. There's nothin' for me here. There's only you, and you gotta take care of your brothers right now. I ain't mad, honey. I just gotta go. Let me go."

I never could deny you, Sandy.

Do you still love her? I asked myself, pausing in front of the windows at the end of the hallway. Do I? Does it even matter?

A door down the hall opened. "You can pick him up and wait in my office," the doctor said, leaving the door to X-ray open. Darry called to me. I ground out my cigarette, guilt-ridden.

Sandy doesn't matter anymore. Pony does. Pony's all that matters, until he's better, which he will be soon.

I followed Darry into x-ray. Ponyboy was seated on a table covered with a clean white paper. He had on a t-shirt and jeans, but they both swallowed him. I reminisced about the time he was well-built, too big for me to carry. I could lift him easily now, although Darry usually did when he had to.

"Hey little buddy," Darry said softly, squeezing Pony's shoulder. "You wanna head down to the doc's office?"

"They took my hat," my brother said softly. "Will you find it for me?"

Darry nodded and left the room. Pony raised his eyes to mine; his lips were shaking ever so slightly, although he tried to smile.

"Don't think I've ever been scarder," he mumbled. He rubbed the palms of his hands anxiously on his pants.

"Hey, we're nervous too," I grinned. "But it'll be fine, all right? And if it ain't, we'll try something else."

Pony grinned back. "Glory, Soda," he said with a half-laugh, "you never stop smilin'." I saw the adoration in his eyes and grinned wider. Why not? I had lots to smile about.