Darrel walks into the quiet Curtis home. It was 12am and all Darry wants to do is collapse into bed and sleep for hours and hours, but he couldn’t quite yet. He walks into the kitchen looking at the dishes in the sink. He looks to the living room noticing the dirty coffee table. He sighs to himself as he got to work as quietly as possible to avoid waking his brothers.
Thirty minutes later Darry finally cleans to the point where he’s satisfied. During these moments, he couldn’t help but think amount of times his parents had to do this; how they made it look so easy; how they never would complain; how they were always patient with the boys. What he’d give to understand. What’d he’d give to have a conversation with them. To say goodbye.
He walks down the hall to his brothers’ room quietly cracking the door open. Sodapop has his arm draped around Ponyboy, and they’re both dead asleep. The rise and fall of their chests some how calms Darry. Since their parents death, Darry was always worried. Always. He was terrified one day a police officer would show up on his door step one day, and tell him of a new loss. Just like that fateful night. The night of his 20th birthday.
He shakes away the memory. He shakes the memory of having to identify them. He shakes away the image of his dismembered parents. He shakes away the memory of telling his brothers that their parents were gone. He shakes away the sound of desperation tat came from Pony’s mouth, and Soda’s arms wrapping around himself. He shakes away the memory of the funeral. He shakes away it all.
He walks into his room, throwing off his work clothes and climbing into bed. His back aches and his muscles are sore. It seems like he’s in a constant state of pain all the time. He stares at the ceiling, his mind racing. He forces his eyes closed and sleep eventually consumes him. The only bright side to bee exhausted all the time was how easy it was to fall asleep.
A few moments after drifting off he feels his eyes open, but it wasn’t an awake kind of feeling. His back didn’t hurt and he didn’t want to immediately crawl back into bed. He was also in a different room. It was Pony and Soda’s room. It was his childhood bedroom.
He sits up, standing from the bed as he walks to the door, which was cracked open slightly. The house smells how he remembered it. Before everything happened. The house feels quiet, but not barren. He walks into the living room and he feels his breath hitch, because there, sitting in his father’s chair, was his father.
“Dad?” Darry’s voice sounds small and soft, as if worried that his father would disappear, or run away.
Then, his dad stand up turning to him; taking a step forward. “Junior,” His father smiles. “I’ve missed you, have you been?
Darry takes another tentative step forward “I miss you.”
“I know son.” His father stands in front of him, placing a hand on his shoulder “You’re doing so well”
Darry knows it isn’t real, but he wants it to be. It all feels so real “I’m really not. I’m nothing like you and mom. I have no idea what I have no clue how you two did it. I don’t know how to do this right. I feel like I’m failing them — failing you.” Darry has no clue where all this is coming from, or why he’s ranting to something that so clearly doesn’t anywhere but in the confines of his own mind.
“Oh, my son, youve always been too hard on yourself. You’re doing your best. That’s all me and your mother could’ve ever hoped for.” His father moves his hands to hold his face
“It’s not enough. I feel like I have no idea about anything anymore..”
“Do you think your mother and I did? We were just as clueless, but you boys.. It made it worth it.”
Darry is speechless at his fathers words. “Really?”
“Yes, Junior. We are so proud of you all. We’re so proud of you. I am proud of you, son”
Suddenly, Darry jerks awake with tears streaming down his face. “Dad?” Gosh, when was the last time he said that expecting a reply?