Work Text:
Curtis Household, Tulsa OK, Friday November 7th 1958
‘Pony, honey – do you know where your brothers are?’
From the kitchen, Momma called to me and I looked up from the TV show I was watching. Darry and Soda were late from school and I was taking full advantage of having the TV to myself for once. I didn’t get to watch Lorenzo and Friends all that often without Darry or Soda smacking me upside the head and changing the channel just because they could.
Darry and Soda are my big brothers. Darry’s the oldest – he’s thirteen and in his final year of Junior High, whereas Soda and I are still in grade school. Darry thinks he’s awful grown-up because of it, even though it’s only Junior High. I hate to think how big for his britches he will be when he starts at Will Rogers next Fall.
Soda’s my other brother. He turned double digits last month, but is just as full of energy and wild ideas as he was when he was my age. I’m not sure he will ever settle down, especially at school. Which is why I hadn’t been too worried when he hadn’t come out at the end of the day to walk home with me. Soda’s always getting kept in, or set lines, or – probably most frequently of all – getting his butt warmed in the office with Mr Yates’ paddle. Steve and Johnny had walked home with me instead.
On the other hand, Darry not coming home on time was a mystery. We call Darry ‘Superman’, and not just because he’s getting so tall and broad-shouldered. He’s normally so good at school, I can’t even remember the last time he got paddled and he was rarely kept in. And it wasn’t a football practice night.
‘Sorry, I’ve not seen ‘em since this morning,’ I answered.
Momma came into the room, her eyes all creased with worry.
‘That’s strange. Did Soda get into trouble at school?’
‘Probly – but I ain’t heard anything.’
‘Hmm.’ Momma looked over at the clock on the mantelpiece which read 4pm. ‘Well, if Soda was kept in, he should be home any minute. Darry too.’
She went back to the kitchen and I could hear her clattering around inside the cupboards. The sounds of her fretting made me start worrying too, so I switched off the TV and crept into the kitchen to steal a hug.
‘Can I help?’ I asked, voice muffled in her apron.
‘Sure honey – you can peel the potatoes if you’re real careful, huh?’
Gleefully, I sat down at the table and Momma set me up with the peeler. I know it’s weird, but for some reason I just really like peeling potatoes. I make a game of it, trying to see how long a strip I can make before it breaks. Darry and Soda usually tease me about it, but they certainly try to beat me at it whenever they can so I think they secretly like doing it too.
Momma and I worked quietly in the kitchen for a few moments, and then the back door opened and Soda slunk in. Momma grabbed him and wrapped him in a fierce hug before swatting him.
‘What’s that for?’ Soda complained, wriggling to free himself from her grip and rubbing his thigh to get rid of the sting.
‘You had me worried – you’re late.’
Soda rolled his eyes. ‘I was kept in again. ‘Course I’m late. Mr Wilson gave me about a billion lines to write.’
Momma swatted him again for good measure, and then poured him a glass of milk. Soda was always starving when he came home from school. Well, actually that applied to all three of us. We went through so much milk that Momma threatened to keep a cow in our backyard.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen Darry have you?’ asked Momma, as Soda gulped down his milk and then wiped the moustache off his lip with his sleeve.
‘No, why?’
‘He’s late too,’ I chirped from my place at the table. Soda’s eyes lit up as he saw what I was doing, and he went to the drawer to grab the second peeler. I grinned as he sat down next to me and soon we were giggling away at each other, each trying to outdo the other’s peeling spirals.
Pretty soon, Momma had a beef stew bubbling away on the stove and there was still no sign of Darry. Momma was bustling around the kitchen, scrubbing dishes and wiping surfaces and now she was starting to worry me and Soda too.
Daddy came home soon after Soda had, and his brows knit together ominously, his mouth a stern line, when Momma told him that Darry still wasn’t home. Soda and I exchanged worried grimaces. Glory, I wouldn’t like to be in Darry’s shoes when Daddy had a face like that on him.
It was almost time to sit down to supper when, thank the Lord and all his angels, Darry slunk in through the back door.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ Daddy thundered at him from his armchair by the fireplace.
‘Nowhere much,’ Darry shrugged. ‘Just out.’
From my seat on the couch next to Soda, I caught sight of Darry’s face. He looked real fed up and grouchy about something.
Momma put a hand on his shoulder as he tried to push past her, trying to turn him to look her in the eye, and he tried to shrug her off.
‘Darry, honey – what’s wrong?’
Darry refused to meet her eyes, an angry red flush creeping up the back of his neck.
‘Nothin’, Mom. I’m fine. Leave me be.’
‘Well, it ain’t nothin’, honey. Something’s got you all upset.’
Darry’s face contorted with frustration and he lashed out at Momma, yelling ‘I SAID IT’S NOTHIN’ MOM, SO LEAVE ME ALONE.’
Daddy was already up on his feet before Darry could draw another breath, advancing on him slowly and menacingly, and clearing his throat in a clear warning.
At that moment, Momma tried to put her hand back on Darry’s shoulder to calm him down. Darry whipped round lightning fast in a blind, furious rage and shoved her, hard, far away from him. Momma crashed into the cabinet behind her and for about three beats there was a frightened silence.
Then Daddy gave a bellow of rage, rushed forward and grabbed Darry by the scruff of his neck. Darry was twisting and hollering and trying his hardest to get out of Daddy’s grip, but Daddy held him fast. Rummaging in a drawer, he brought out the one thing that all three of us were absolutely terrified of, though not one of us had yet felt it. Grandpa’s strap.
I clutched Soda’s hand and watched, wide-eyed and horror struck, as Daddy dragged Darry over to the kitchen table and pinned him down, Darry fighting wildly to be let loose. Daddy brought the strap down viciously on Darry’s backside, and Darry howled like he’d been shot, and kicked and fought and struggled to get away. Momma was crying and hanging on to Daddy’s arm, trying to stop him from skinning Darry while mad, but Daddy got a few good licks in before Darry broke loose and shot out the back door.
For a moment, Daddy looked like he was going to tear right on out of the house after him, but Momma still had a hold of his arm. Daddy was panting, face lobster-red, and he looked madder than I’d ever seen him and I’d seen him plenty mad before. He still clutched the strap in his fist, and Momma gently took hold of it and laid it on the kitchen counter. Not putting it away, but just to one side – and I knew that Darry was gonna get it when he finally came back. If he ever dared to.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Darry wasn’t back in time for supper, nor was he back by the time that Soda and I were sent to bed. We lay there, trembling under our quilt, Soda’s arms wrapped solidly around me. We both hated it when one of us was in trouble, and the look on Momma and Daddy’s face when Darry still hadn’t come home frightened us something awful. We were scared that Darry would never come home, but we were also scared that he would. Soda fussed and fidgeted but then fell into a fitful sleep, quietly snoring in my ear.
Daddy had gone out in his truck after supper, searching the usual places with no luck. Darry seemed to have vanished into thin air. Momma busied herself calling everyone she could think of and then scrubbing the kitchen surfaces again, her reddened hands contrasting against her pale pinched face. Then, she had taken herself to her room without saying a word. Daddy had planted himself in his armchair, a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. Just, sitting there. Waiting.
I couldn’t stand it any longer. I felt like I was gonna hurl, but also that I was gonna scream, or throw something, or curl up in a ball and sob. I was fixing to do…something, but I just didn’t know what. Soda’s arms around me had felt comforting, but now they felt stifling and I just needed to get up for a moment. I untangled myself from Soda’s vice-like grip and carefully padded out to the lounge in my bare feet.
Daddy was still sat rigidly in his chair, an overflowing ashtray and several empty cans beside him. He looked…wrecked. Tired. Old. He looked up as I slipped into the room and his face softened. He opened his arms and I climbed onto his lap, nestling against his chest and listening to the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat. I sighed and we sat there silently, keeping watch and praying for my eldest brother’s return.
‘He will come back, won’t he Daddy?’
Dad wrapped his arms tighter around me and kissed the top of my head.
‘Course he will. We both needed to cool off. You’ll see – he’ll walk through that door any moment.’
I yawned and settled more comfortably into Daddy’s lap and we watched the news together, the only light coming from the glare of the TV and the back porch light that Momma had left on as a beacon for Darry.
I must’ve dozed off because the next thing I knew, the news had finished and Daddy lifted me up to take me back to bed. But just then, the back door finally opened and an extremely cold and sorry- looking Darry crept in. His eyes widened as he spotted Daddy and me.
I jumped outta Daddy’s grip and threw myself at my wayward brother, hugging his sorry ass something fierce. He ruffled my hair awkwardly, still looking mighty warily at Daddy.
Dad crossed the room and grabbed Darry into a fierce hug of his own.
‘Thank god,’ he breathed, and I gaped as Daddy was anything but a religious man. ‘You had me so worried.’
Darry returned the embrace cautiously, looking round awkwardly and his eyes settling on the strap that was still on the kitchen counter. He swallowed and Daddy squeezed him tight.
‘It’s far too late to get into all that now.’ He nodded towards the strap that lay there ominously like a poisonous snake. ‘ We’ll talk in the morning, huh? Go on, get yourself to bed.’
‘Yessir,’ Darry swallowed nervously, but allowed Dad to kiss his cheek goodnight and then followed me back to our bedroom.
__________________________________________________________________________________
I didn’t sleep well, and neither did Darry judging by the dark circles around his eyes the following morning. It was early, but we could hear Momma already clattering around the kitchen, so Darry and I got up and pulled on our clothes, leaving Soda snoring away. That kid could sleep through a nuclear bomb going off.
I accidentally caught sight of Darry’s bare butt as he tugged on a clean pair of briefs and couldn’t help but gasp at the livid red weals that cut across his behind. To think, that was through Darry’s jeans. He heard me gasp, twisted himself round to look, and grimaced at the sight of his striped backside. He rolled his eyes at me, every inch the tuff bigger brother pretending not to care, and pulled on the rest of his clothes without comment.
I followed Darry into the kitchen. Momma grabbed Darry and wrapped him into a huge hug, squeezing him so tight he wriggled to loosen her grip.
‘I’m sorry, Mom, about what I did last night. Yellin’ at you and shovin’ you. And runnin’ off. I shouldn’t a done it and I’m real sorry.’
Momma kissed his head and hugged him tighter.
‘Don’t you ever run off like that again, you hear? You had me worried sick.’
‘Yes’m,’ Darry mumbled, cheeks reddening no doubt because he was being scolded in front of me. I shrugged and turned my attention to the eggs that and toast that Momma had already placed on the table for me. Big deal, I thought, chewing a mouthful of my breakfast – we were always getting swatted or scolded in front of each other.
Daddy looked up from his newspaper and coffee and gave Darry a measured look, sort of like he was weighing something up. It looked like he made a decision, ‘cos he put his newspaper down and stood up.
‘You and me still need to have a conversation, so how about we go get it over with, huh? You can have your breakfast afterwards.’
He picked up the strap from where it was still waiting on the kitchen counter, and beckoned Darry to follow him. Momma squeezed Darry’s shoulder and then sent him after Daddy with a kiss to his forehead. She went through to the lounge and switched on the TV, turning the volume up a little. Then she came and sat down at the table with me, cradling a mug of coffee in her hands.
We jumped when we heard a distant cracking noise even over the sound of the Saturday morning cartoons, and I cringed as I heard my biggest brother howl. Glory, that sounded bad. I tried to swallow the bite of toast I had taken, but it was sticking in my throat. Momma’s knuckles had gone white around her coffee mug and she sat as rigid as a statue.
Soda came skittering into the kitchen, wide-eyed and sleep tousled. The sound of Darry’s punishment must’ve woken him, given that Momma and Daddy’s bedroom was right next to ours and in our house we could hear everything through the thin walls. We all jumped again as we heard Dad give Darry another vicious-sounding lick, and we all pretended we couldn’t hear Darry’s cries. Momma went back over into the lounge and turned the volume up even louder, and then cracked some eggs into a pan for Soda.
The three of us sat, pretending to chew our eggs and toast – Momma gently scolding Soda for mixing jelly into his – and trying to act as if Daddy wasn’t giving Darry the licking of a lifetime just down the hall. Soda tried to make conversation, but soon gave up at Momma’s anguished expression every time we heard Darry yell. It was the most uncomfortable meal we had had in a long time.
At long last, we heard the bedroom door open, and Daddy came back into the kitchen followed by a very subdued Darry, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks tear-stained. Momma leapt up and put some more eggs and toast on, bustling around fixing breakfast for them. Daddy sat back down in his chair and picked up his newspaper again.
Darry hesitated, eying the wooden seats around the kitchen table with distaste. Daddy lowered his newspaper for a moment and fixed Darry with a stern look.
‘In this house, we sit for meals son. No exceptions.’
Darry grimaced, and then gingerly lowered himself into his seat with a hiss of pain and tears sprang to his eyes. I shot him a sympathetic look, but Soda just grinned teasingly at him until Momma smacked the back of Soda’s head and told him to ‘pack it in’. She placed a plate of eggs in front of Darry and squeezed his shoulder again, putting as much love as she could into the gesture. Darry smiled back gratefully, and then started to eat.
Soda gave a low whistle as he watched Darry inhale his breakfast, shaking his head disbelievingly. ‘Glory, getting your ass handed to you sure seems to make you hungry.’
Darry narrowed his eyes at Soda for a moment, and then grinned. It was a weaker version of his usual one, but it was a grin nevertheless.
‘Well, I guess that explains why you are always starving then.’
Dad and I guffawed, and Momma shook her head with reluctant amusement. The tension broken, breakfast went back to its usual noisy chaos, the only indication of the morning’s events being Darry’s slightly red eyes and the anxious looks Momma kept shooting him every time he shifted in his seat.