Chapter Text
June, 1968
It was a hot, bright, summer morning in Oklahoma and Ponyboy was sweating up a storm even though he had just gotten out of the shower. He stood at the crooked vanity in the quaint bathroom and shaved off the wimpy stubble growing on his jaw, deciding to spare the growth on his upper lip for now. A white towel hung around his hips, the corner strategically tucked in the side so it was secure. He clacked the edge of the razor on the sink and gave himself a good once over. It seemed that through the haze and busyness of the school year, he hadn’t really seen himself since August. Now he’s almost a senior in high school.
“You sure do look different, old boy.”
He mumbled to himself, remembering his 14 year old self wondering when he would shave. Goofy lookin’ blondie. By the way, that bleach was a hassle to grow out.
Now, look how he’d grown up. Not just in terms of facial hair had things changed, Pony was taller than Soda now and arguably just as handsome. Not that they saw each other much, since Soda was a marine and gone most of the time except when he had a week or two off when he was lucky. As Ponyboy shaved, he wondered what Sodapop was doing right then in Vietnam. He resented his brother’s decision, but knew that Sodapop didn’t really have much else to do other than work at the DX. It was unfair.
In recent years, Pony had grown more mature. More understanding of the world around him and the unfairness that was inevitable in his life. That resulted in a lot less arguments with Darry.
Pretty much when the whole business with Johnny, Dallas, and Bob cooled down, the gang had separated themselves from the ‘greaser’ life famous in the heart of Tulsa.They still hung around each other, still like brothers. Just grown up.
In fact, lots of guys and girls unaffiliated themselves from both sides when they learned of the violent affair. This helped Ponyboy form his own identity, and transform into a ‘modern teenager’, dabbling in new age meditation rituals, philosophy, and poems from numerous places around the world. Because of the influence, Ponyboy had tried to kick his greasy accent, with little to no avail. He’d abandoned hair grease and barely styled the mop on his head, which resulted in hair that grazed the nape of his neck in dark waves, bangs growing out and flipping outwards at around his ears.
Darry liked to call him a hippie, which annoyed Pony, since he thought it was a reductive view of his stances. He liked to have a taste of different ideas, that’s all. It was the intellectual side Pony was attracted to, not the rowdiness or the psychedelia. Well, maybe a little bit of that stuff too.
Not to mention the music Pony started listening to. It wasn’t just ‘tuff’ old Elvis anymore, no, he started up on jazz, beat poetry recordings, and the new rock stuff everyone raved about. Darry didn’t seem to mind most of the jazz or even the rock, but he just couldn’t stand the poetry. Said he didn’t like the encouragement of drug experimentation. In which Ponyboy usually responded with a shrug.
With one smooth line, he shaved the rest of his neck and looked at himself again. He looked pretty sharp, in his opinion. Soon enough, he could have a mustache like George Harrison.
Darry stalked up to the bathroom doorway quietly, smiling down at his little, but growing up by the day, brother fussing over himself.
“Hey, look at you. Ya got a little catfish mustache and everything.”
Darry’s strong hand ruffled Pony’s hair, which resulted in a laugh from both of them.
“Aw, gee, I’m gonna need another hour to get ready…”
The boy laughed more, smoothing his hair with one combing through with his fingers.
“Did you pick a place, Darry?”
It was June 21st, Father’s Day. Pony had decided to save up all his money from being an usher at the movie house to take his big brother out some place. Because, in Pony’s opinion, the man had taken up the role of a father all too well to not be celebrated.
“Ahh, yeah, but we don’t have to do anything special. Let’s just get somethin’ to eat and come back.”
Darry scoffed, acting indifferent of their plans, which Pony knew was a learned behavior from when they were kids as to not inconvenience anyone. Birthdays, graduations, football games won, no celebrations needed; they were too ‘expensive’. It was something Darry had always said…And Pony wouldn’t tolerate it for another minute.
“No, I’ll take you to breakfast and I’m gonna get you a gift. We’ll go to that new department store downtown and I demand that I get you something nice. You deserve it.”
Darry shrugged, acting nonchalant, like he wasn’t a bit flattered.
“If you insist, Pony. I’ll be in the living room watching TV when you’re ready. We’ll take my truck?”
Ponyboy looked to his brother and smiled, nodding.
“Your truck is fine.”
Darry let his hand slide from the door frame to slap his pockets, walking away with a gruff sigh. Pony looked back at himself in the mirror, and decided his wet hair was drying fine and went to his bedroom to dress himself.
He closed the door and held the towel to his hip, his other hand sorting through his hangers to find a shirt. After a few passes through of his wardrobe, he one-handedly slid a pastel blue and yellow striped polo off a hanger and threw it on his bed.
Then, he turned to his wardrobe drawers and went to grab boxers and a pair of jeans, to complete his casual outfit.
He dressed, looking at himself arrogantly in the mirror as he adjusted his belt.
‘I wonder if I’ll look like this, when I’m old, when I’m a father.’
He thought to himself. Pony knew his hair would fade to gray and he would likely gain weight and wrinkles from time, but he wondered what fatherhood would do to him. Would he make it until then? He hoped so.
Maybe Dad thought the same.
Pony brushed that away and tied up his shoe laces, scuffling into the front room where Darry sat, prepared as ever.
‘Blue collar hick,’ Pony thought affectionately.
‘Bet he’s been up since the crack of dawn, all showered and dressed like it’s any other work day.’
“You ready to go, Dar?”
Ponyboy smiled, assuring himself by feeling again for his wallet in his front pocket. Darry stood up and smiled back.
“Boy, you clean up nice. Makes me realize you’re always lookin’ like a monkey, with that scruffy face and hair, and your terrible posture.”
Pony laughed at that, feigning offense.
“Oh, yeah? Well, not everybody can be as perfect as you, Superman. Some of us like the perpetual scrounge on our person.”
Darry laughed at that, unlocking the door for them to leave the house. He motioned for his younger brother to step out first. Ponyboy breezed over to the car while Darry stayed behind to lock their screen door. When he caught up, he routinely sat in the driver’s seat.
“Y’know what would make this day a bit better?”
Darry suddenly spoke while starting the truck.
“Soda coming home?”
Pony sincerely guessed. His brother laughed quietly.
“Hm, yeah, that too, but that wasn’t what I was gonna say. I was gonna say I wish Dad were here.”
Ponyboy sighed a bit, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. He meant it when he said that Darry was a father figure to him, but his brother couldn’t replace what their real father offered.
“Yeah, you’re right. Then again, what day wouldn’t be better with Dad here?”
Darry nodded at his brother’s words sagely, driving along into town as they spoke.
“Ain’t that the truth?”
He murmured, focusing on passing through a four way intersection before speaking again.
“I really miss him a lot, but I consider myself a bit lucky, in a way. I had him, them, around for so much longer. Y’know, you were only, what, 13? When they both died? Gosh, Soda was 15…”
Darry stroked his chin, glancing over at Ponyboy to gauge his reaction.
“Yeah, but, you were still kind of a kid too. In a way, you had them around for longer, so it must’ve been a different kind of pain to have them taken away. Me and Soda, we don’t even know what we lost, you dig?”
Ponyboy spoke evenly, strangely lucid and unemotional at the talk of their parents.
“And, well, you had to accept the responsibility of us. Not that Mom and Dad left much to be raised, but you still had mouths to feed. You did well for us under the circumstances. That’s why I wanna take you out today.”
Darry reflected for a moment, then looked over to his brother with a small expression of concern.
“You two were more than ‘mouths to feed’. You’re my brothers, you know that?”
He said, with more earnest than his usual voice held.
“Well…yeah, I know. Thanks, Darry.”
Ponyboy nodded, feeling a surge of love in his heart from his brother at his sentence. It held more meaning than it let on.
With a sudden stop, they arrived in front of a local diner, one they had been to as a family a few times before and after the accident. In the Curtis household, it was not known for its quality cuisine, but rather for its nostalgic effect. Soda would be jealous when Pony wrote to tell him they had eaten there. He loved their chocolate milk.
“Does this place sound good? I know it’s not the best, but, it’s good for a day like this.”
Darry broke through Pony’s thoughts of Sodapop’s chocolate milk incident a year or two before, in which Ponyboy responded to his brother with a smile and nod.
They hopped out of the car, and headed to the diner door, where Darry insisted on holding the door for Pony and a family coming in behind them.
‘That’s the Superman I know.’ Pony thought to himself with fondness.