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Darry hated evenings, he would never tell his brothers that, it would break their hearts, but evenings were the hardest.
It was a relief to get home from work, sure, nice to get his eyes on his brothers, so long as they were home. Everything else was overwhelming.
Home meant coming back to a house with no parents, home meant looking over bills and paycheques, wondering if they could afford to have breakfast everyday until the next paycheque came. Home meant getting after Pony to stick to curfew and do his homework and be a kid and be better than Darry could ever be. Home meant din and activity and the gang’s bickering. Home meant figuring out when the next electricity bill was due and doing chores until late at night only to crash then wake up early again. Home meant feeling his chest get tight and shoulders rise under the added stress, and if his brothers weren’t home? Wringing his hands and pacing until they came in the door or he got a phone call with other news.
Sometimes it was worse, sometimes it was better. This time it was worse.
His words kept getting stuck in his throat, where he often felt quick to anger with Pony, he now didn’t feel quick to anything but suffocation.
He stepped in the door, tripping over too many coats, books, cats, who knows.
“Darry!” Two-Bit crowed.
Sodapop and Steve were yelling about something in the living room, Two-Bit nearby, throwing peanuts from a box at them periodically.
“Where’s Pony?” Darry asked.
Two-Bit tilted his head toward the hall, “bedroom.”
Darry headed there first, cracking the door open just to see that his youngest brother was alive, Pony had a book on his desk, scowling in concentration.
Then Darry headed to the kitchen, he had to start supper. He opened the refrigerator and a cupboard, they were practically bare, what can he make with eggs, mustard, and two soft oranges. He leaned his forehead against the fridge, trying to steady his breathing.
Someone said something particularly loud and he shuddered.
Two-Bit came into the kitchen, ready to pick over their already scarce food options.
“Darry?”
Darry straightened, forcing his face to do something normal as he calmly turned to Two-Bit.
“I can’t feed y’all tonight, let the other boys know will ya?”
“You’re sending us away?” Two-Bit asked, one eyebrow cocked. He couldn’t remember this ever happening.
“Just tonight.”
Two-Bit huffed a little and relayed the message in a yell.
“You’re kidding,” Steve called back.
Soda appeared in the doorway, “no shit Dar-? You can’t just make ‘em go home.”
“There ain’t no food in this goddamn house, Soda!” Darry burst out.
The younger boy’s eyes widened.
“Message received,” Two-Bit muttered as he pushed past Soda. The two Curtis brothers stayed still until Darry heard the front door close and his shoulders loosened. Just a tad, but enough.
“You want eggs Soda? That’s all we have right now,” Darry said in a regular tone, “You and Pony oughtta go shopping tomorrow, take some cash, it should be ok.”
Soda nodded mutely, coming closer to get the frying pan out.
A presence appeared in the doorway.
“What happened?”
“Ain’t nothin’” Soda replied at the same time as Darry said “it’s ok.”
Ponyboy glanced back and forth between them, then sat at the small kitchen table.
Darry sighed, the buzzing in his head getting louder.
“Hey Soda, let me know when it’s ready, ok?”
“Sure, Darry.”
Darry kissed Pony on the head as he passed, heading out to the porch.
He could see Two-Bit’s little sister hula-hooping in the front yard, he half-smiled, at least someone was happy.
He itched for a cigarette. He had been really good at hiding his smoking habits, he was pretty sure neither of his brothers had ever seen him smoke, Ponyboy thought Darry was a god in that department, given Pony’s addiction. And it was partially true, Darry didn’t smoke regularly, but in the culture they’d grown up in he had started young like Pony, and only stopped after graduation. He had made a promise to himself to never smoke at home, and he had kept it. Unless his dad offered him one.
He pulled a lighter from his pocket and flicked it off and on. He might not carry weeds but the lighter always stayed.
The grating sound in his head had subsided but not dropped off completely. He closed the lighter again and dropped his head to his hands. It felt like the days were getting shorter and longer simultaneously. Patience shorter with the gang, nights too short on rest, work days and aches too long-lasting.
He could sense his brothers in the doorway, familiar footsteps coming near.
“Hey Superman, there’s food for you if ya want it.”
Darry nodded in thanks and stood up to go back in. The shadow of Pony disappeared from the doorway but Soda didn’t budge, eyes set on Darry, assessing.
“You oughta take a day off or somethin’ Dar, I know you’re worried about us but we’re worried about you too.”
Darry grabbed Soda by his head and playfully pushed him in the direction of the front door.
“Not your problem, little buddy.”
“Kinda is when we’re scared of you kickin’ it too.”
Darry always tried to avoid this topic by lighten things up but Soda was having none of it.
“I just need to sleep more, git in there.”
Soda’s gaze remained steady but he obediently stepped inside.
“You two look like you should just rumble real good. Maybe we’d all feel better then.” Pony commented as they joined him in the kitchen.
Darry tossed each of his brothers a coke and sat down with a rare grin.
“Yeah I’ll fuck you up Sodapop Curtis.”
“You’re on,” Soda flicked his bottle cap at Darry.
Darry felt the tension ease in his shoulders. In a weird way he was glad he had kicked the other boys out, it was all just so much sometimes, but he knew his brothers were wondering about that particular action. For now they would eat the last of their eggs, Darry would harp on Pony a bit about his grades and spar with Soda and maybe they’d fall asleep by the tv. And tomorrow he’d try to figure it out all over again.