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One thing about the Curtis boys was that they loved anything chocolate.
Darrel had gotten a football scholarship to the University of Tulsa. His twentieth birthday was tomorrow, and last time he called home, his mother had promised him a chocolate cake.
University of Oklahoma had been the goal, but he couldn’t quite bear being more than ten minutes away from his family. Not until Pony had graduated high school, at least.
He was planning on packing up his stuff and driving home tomorrow, so that he could spend a week or so at home and then get back to campus before winter break was over.
Normally, Darry called home every other day, whether it be to check in on his brothers or to say “hi” to his parents. He had called earlier to let them know what time he would arrive the next day.
Last time he had talked to his mother, she had said, “Pony says he can stop by the bakery on his way home from school to get the chocolate frosting. I’m excited to see you.”
And Darry had responded, “I’m excited to see you, too. Tell Pony to get the right kind of frosting,” to which an indignant Ponyboy shouted in the background, “I will!”
He was taken aback when there was a rapid knocking at the door of his and Paul’s dorm room at approximately six o’clock in the evening.
“Get the door,” called Paul from underneath his blankets. It was winter break, hell if he was going to get out of bed.
“I’m goin’,” Darry responded as he got up from his desk chair to go open the door.
He opened the door and was greeted by his RA, who looked rather frantic.
Before Darry could get a word out, she said, “Darrel. Your brother’s on the phone.”
Paul had peeked his head out from the blankets, and Darry gave him a confused look before following the RA out of the room and down the hall. She was going way faster than him, and he had to take bigger strides to keep up.
“What happened?” he asked her.
“I don’t fully know,” she answered quickly. “Kid said he was your brother, said he needed to talk to you, something about your parents, sounded like he was about to cry.”
Well, shit. Darry picked up the pace, and when he reached the phone at the end of the hall, he picked it up from where the RA had seemingly dropped it.
“Hello?” he asked, the panic evident in his voice.
“Darry,” came Soda’s voice from the other end. “Darry, it’s mom and dad, they…” he broke off into a sob.
“Soda, what happened?” Darry pressed, growing more and more worried by the second.
Soda took a shaky breath as he tried to talk through his tears. He heard some voices in the background. “Mom and dad got into an accident,” he cried, “a train hit their car.”
Darry felt his heart drop. He nearly let go of the phone, but he managed to tighten his grip with shaky hands. “What?” he asked, his voice quiet.
“Darry, they’re dead,” Soda managed to continue. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Oh my God.” He felt like he was about to pass out. He pulled the phone away from his mouth so that he could compose himself, and then he brought it back. “Is… is Pony there? Who else is there?”
“Pony’s here,” Soda said. “So’s Johnny and Two-Bit and Steve. Dally’s… somewhere, I don’t… I don’t know. Two police officers.”
“Okay. I’ll… give me fifteen minutes. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t go anywhere,” he said.
“Okay,” Soda responded, his voice shaky. It sounded like he had pulled the phone away from his face as he said, “Pony, he’s on his wa—” and he was cut off as he hung up the phone.
Darry put the phone back onto the hook. “Thank you,” he said to the worried RA who was leaning against her doorframe.
Then he ran back down the hall to his room, where the door was left cracked open. He opened his dresser, pulling out random articles of clothing, and he tossed them on the floor. He grabbed his backpack, dumped out all of his papers and notebooks, and shoved his clothes in there, not giving a shit about organizing it like he normally does.
“Darry,” Paul said, but Darry shook his head as he picked up his backpack.
“I gotta go,” he said.
“What happened?” Paul asked. He was sitting up on his bed now, a worried expression on his face.
“My parents got into an… an accident, I… I gotta go,” was all Darry could say before bolting out the door, backpack slung over one shoulder.
He ran down the stairs, out the door of his dorm building, and to his car. The cold January air bit at his skin, and he shivered; he had forgotten to grab his coat as he rushed out the door. He was out of breath by the time he got there, but he had no time to stop and catch it.
Opening the door to his rusty pickup truck, he got in, closed the door, and tossed his backpack into the passenger seat. He started the car, and after turning on the windshield wipers to get the snow off of the glass, he was out of the parking lot in seconds.
Darry was normally a very cautious driver. But tonight, he probably broke every speed limit there was. He felt the tears threatening to fall as he stared ahead at the road.
He pulled into the gravelly driveway of their house in less than ten minutes.
Ponyboy was sitting on the porch steps. Johnny was next to him, and Two-Bit was standing behind them. Pony had his hand over his mouth, and Darry could see how much he was shaking before he even got out of the car.
Soda was pacing around the small front yard while Steve talked to a stoic looking police officer. Soda was offering answers through his panicked tears, and Steve translated.
Darry got out of the car, slamming the door behind him, causing Johnny to jump. He grabbed Soda’s shoulders, effectively stopping his pacing.
“What happened?” he asked. Soda hadn’t given him much detail over the phone.
Soda struggled to get an answer out through his hyperventilation. “Mom and dad, they,” he took a breath, “they went out to the bakery. Mom wanted to,” another breath, “to buy some frosting.”
At this, Ponyboy buried his face in his arms with a quiet cry, and Johnny scooted a little closer to him.
That was when Darry remembered.
“Pony says he can stop by the bakery on his way home from school to get the chocolate frosting. I’m excited to see you.”
He blinked a few times and looked back at Soda. “The guy who was driving the train,” he said, “he told the cops what happened. He,” Soda stopped to take another breath, “he couldn’t see their car ‘cause of the snow, and he said he couldn’t stop the… the train fast enough.”
Darry was at a loss for words. He pulled Soda into a tight hug. He gestured towards Pony. Johnny took the hint, and nudged him a little. Pony looked up, and upon seeing Darry holding an arm out for him, got up and ran over, letting himself be pulled into a hug.
All Darry wanted to do was break down and cry. But his brothers needed someone to comfort them. So he held back his tears and hugged them a little tighter.
Steve went to sit on the steps next to Johnny, and the police officer he was talking to came over to the three of them.
“Darrel Curtis, Jr.?” he asked, looking at Darry.
“That’s me,” Darry responded weakly.
“Your brother says you’ve been away at college,” the officer said.
“Yeah,” he said, trying to remain as calm as he could.
“Do these boys have someone to take care of them while we get this all sorted out?”
“Me. I’ll be here,” Darry said. Then he processed the last part of the officer’s sentence. “Wait, what do you mean ‘sorted out’?”
“They’re minors, aren’t they?” asked the officer, and when Darry nodded, he continued, “They’ve gotta go into a boys home. Unless you’re able to apply to become their guardian.”
“I’ll do it,” Darry said, with no hesitation.
The officer raised his eyebrows. “Okay.”
Later that night, Darry called the admissions office.
After only one and a half years of college, he dropped out so that he could start the process of becoming the legal guardian of his younger brothers.
For the next few days, Darry, Soda, and Pony all slept in the same bed. Neither of them could bear going into their parents’ room just yet.
Steve slept in a pile of pillows on the living room floor. Johnny slept on the couch, and Two-Bit slept curled up in the recliner. Dally came and went.
That night, Darry couldn’t sleep. They had scheduled the memorial service for that day, and seeing various pictures of his parents surrounded by lit candles made him want to cry. Or throw up. Maybe both.
He gently lifted Ponyboy’s arm off of his chest and scooted past Soda. He got out of bed and tiptoed out into the living room. Steve, Johnny, and Two-Bit were fast asleep. He felt like he was being suffocated. Without really thinking about it, he stepped over the piles of pillows, making sure to not trip on Steve’s leg, and he opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him.
Only to come face to face with Paul. Paul, with Darry’s duffel bag by his side.
“Paul,” Darry said, his eyes widening briefly.
“Hey,” Paul said.
“What’re you doin’ here?” Darry asked. He took a step to the side and sat down on the steps.
“Checking in on you,” he said. He set the bag aside and sat down next to him. “You didn’t call or anything after you left. Then I’m hearing you dropped out. I wanted to see how you were doing. Bring you some of your things.”
Now Darry noticed the blue Mustang parked in front of their rusty chain link fence. It looked unnatural.
“Oh,” was all Darry said.
“What happened?” Paul asked.
“My parents, they, uh,” he hesitated before continuing. “They’re dead.”
Paul turned to face him. “What?” he asked, the shock evident on his face.
“Their car got hit by a train,” Darry said, his voice beginning to waver. He really didn’t want to talk about it. He felt his eyes stinging, and he didn’t like it.
“Shit,” Paul said. “I’m… so sorry.”
Darry shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “Thanks for, uh, bringin’ that,” he said, nodding over his shoulder at his suitcase.
“Of course,” Paul said. “How’ve you been handling everything? How’re you… going to handle everything?” he asked carefully.
Darry sighed. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m gonna have to get a job. Or two.”
Paul nodded. “Let me know if I can help,” he offered, a little timidly. Hearing him take this tone kind of caught Darry off guard.
“You bringin’ my stuff by helped a lot,” Darry said. “Thanks.”
“Of course,” Paul said again. “Are you gonna come back and get everything else?”
“After the… after the funeral, yeah,” he responded. “I gotta fill out the dropout paperwork and stuff, too.”
“Yeah,” Paul murmured.
Soda and Pony, along with the rest of the gang, were a little wary of Darry and Paul’s friendship. Mostly because he was a Soc. But Paul understood him, and Darry understood Paul. If Darry didn’t want to talk, then Paul didn’t push him.
The two of them sat there in silence for what felt like eternity, with Darry sniffling occasionally.
Then Darry stood up. “I should… I should get back inside,” he said.
Paul stood up, too. “Okay.”
And then Darry found himself being pulled into a hug. He hesitated for a second, and then hugged him back. Paul had never really been one to show physical affection to his friends. And Darry didn’t realize just how much he needed a hug until now, even if it was a little awkward.
When they broke apart, Paul said, “Call me, okay?”
Darry nodded. “Okay.”
Paul nodded back, and then he made his way down the porch steps, out of the front yard, and opened his car door. Darry gave him a small wave as he drove away.
It was then that he noticed how cold his feet were, so he picked up his bag and walked inside. When he opened the door, he saw Johnny quickly lay back down.
All Darry wanted, though, was to go to sleep. He walked past the couch, tiptoeing to avoid waking up Two-Bit or Steve.
The funeral took place the next day. Seeing everyone — his friends, people he hadn’t seen in ages, people he didn’t even know — all dressed in formal attire (as formal as they could get, anyways) felt so odd, and every time he remembered why they were dressed like that, he got a little dizzy.
He needed air, but he couldn’t bear to step out of the church for even a moment.
Like he had told Paul, he returned to college a few hours after the funeral had finished. He filled out the paperwork to officially drop out, and then he went to pack up whatever belonged to him in their shared dorm.
And as he lay awake in bed that night, he realized just how real this was. Everything had happened so fast .
And as he lay awake in bed that night, Darry began to cry.
And if Soda hugged him just a little bit tighter, neither of them said anything.