Helpless

Twobit

(Two-bit)

"You been talkin' to Steve?" I asked a tired looking Soda. It was late, close to midnight, but the Curtis' had all been on weird sleeping schedules since Pony had gone on the pain killers and needed a new dose every few hours.

"No," Soda mumbled as he scrubbed the dinner dishes. He'd felt bad that Cherry had been doing them every day, been cleaning the entire house and doing the laundry without a complaint. The house had never looked better, which was good because the state kept checking in fairly regularly.

"We got drunk at Buck's a couple nights ago," I said carefully. I didn't know exactly what had happened between Steve and Soda, but Darry and I had easily guessed that Steve had crossed the line and said something cruel about Ponyboy. Their behaviors were so different; Soda was growing quieter and quieter, more and more distraught as Pony faded away, but Darry seemed strangely calm. He'd carry his youngest brother onto the porch at night or in the morning to watch the sun and the sky, and Pony would lean against him and they'd sit in silence. But Soda never stopped talking when his brother was awake; trying to reassure and console his younger brother although none of us were sure if that's even what he really wanted. Ponyboy didn't talk much anymore, but he didn't seem sad either, just quiet and tired. Like he was waiting.

"Two-bit," Soda sighed, leaning on the sink. "I don't need to hear about Steve right now."

I nodded and started wise-cracking, trying to lighten Soda up and block the thought of his best friend: Steve had asked about him, and Ponyboy.

"I don't know what got into me," he had pleaded as I downed my third shot. He was already drunk, or he wouldn't have been talking like that. "It was like I was a monster. Sodapop'd never hit me before. Hell, only time he was mad was the time I said Darry was all brawn no brain...I didn't mean nothin', really, I don't know..."

Soda finished the dishes and stretched, looking sore. "Pony oughta need more medicine soon," he said absently.

"It don't matter, Sodapop, Darry's stayin' with him tonight."

Soda sighed. "I know. I just like to be ready to help in case he's in a lotta pain."

"Hell, Soda, you can't fix everything."

Soda ignored me and changed the subject. "You wanna spend the night?"

I shrugged. "Sure, why not? Y'all need help babysittin' tomorrow?"

"Shut your trap! Don't let Pony hear you say that."

"Shoot, Soda, the kid's out cold."

Sodapop just sighed and lit a cigarette. "Cherry's coming by in the morning, so we're okay. We're trying to get time off."

"I'm sure they'll give it to you."

"Boss already said I could leave. It's just that...we're broke."

I nodded; I'd been giving them my paychecks, but they weren't much, and nothing could really help them at this point. They were financially doomed.

"Ain't the state helpin'?"

"A little."

"Cherry give you money?"

"Yup. Her and Ste-" he bit off the rest of his best friend's name, angry for speaking it, as if just saying the word somehow betrayed his brother. I thought of the pain on Steve's face as he asked about Soda, struggling not to look anxious and failing. I'd never seen Steve so emotional before, but he really did care about Soda; and, deep down, Ponyboy. We were all dealing in different ways, and his was just to get angry.

Soda understands, I thought, watching him look away, his face a mirror of Steve's as he thought of his friend. He misses you too, I thought absently, even as I started rattling on and on trying to pry a smile out of Soda. Soda needs you too Steve, whether he lets himself know it or not.