Blackbird singing in the dead of night.
Take these broken wings and learn to fly.
All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive.
School was rough. Darry had warned me on the first day of school that Senior year is the hardest. He had told me not to catch a case of Senioritis. I had assured him that I wouldn't, and he'd told me he'd make sure of it. I hadn't known how he planned on making sure of it, but I thought it best not to question him.
So far, I hadn't caught Senioritis, but the work was definitely harder than it had been before. Even though I knew it wasn't a good excuse, I liked to think it was because I was younger than the rest of the kids in my grade. (I also liked to ignore that, even though I was younger, I was also much smarter.) I was walking home from school, back pack slung on one shoulder. I turned seventeen yesterday, I thought with sudden force. I was seventeen, and I was a senior in high school. Golly, where am I going?
I shivered at the thought and decided to shrug it off. Who cares? My grades were good, and I had my brothers and who remain of our little gang for at least another year. Though, only Darry, Soda, Two-Bit and I were left. Not much to depend on.
Steve, for example, left Tulsa the minute he could. He and Evie got married right out of high school and they ran off to Texas. Evie stayed at home with their daughter and Steve was a mechanic. He came by a month before, just to check in on his family and on the gang. He was a little heavier than I remembered him and looked rougher. He still acted like I was a nuisance, but I didn't mind so much anymore, long as he didn't get mouthy at me.
On the other hand, Two-Bit was exactly the same. He still lived with his mother and little sister, and both of them were glad to have him around to keep everyone in a good mood. If possible, he'd gotten stockier, and he finally graduated, but that's about all that changed with him.
Darry remained big and strong. We started getting along along better, but we still fought once and a while. In a house full of boys, it was kind of hard not to. Though I was pretty sure he wouldn't put me in a boys' home if given the chance, I knew that I still irritated him from time to time. He was a little more mellow. Not quite as scared as he used to be.
Soda was his old laughing self, happy with his DX job fixing cars and pumping gas. If anything, he got handsomer. He hadn't had a girlfriend since Sandy, so he mostly kept me company on week-ends when I would have been hanging with Dally or Johnny, or he went out with random transition girls. I didn't think they were really considered transitional anymore, though, since there had been about eighteen of them. He said that none of them compared with Sandy, though there was always this strange look in his eyes when he told me. I could never figure out what it was.
And me? Not much changed with me. I lost all of the baby fat in my face and stomach, so I looked thinner and I tougher. Though I ended up shaving my head when I was fifteen because the peroxide wouldn't wash completely out, my hair grew back, just like Johnny said it would. I had it looking tuff again. I was leaner and I didn't smoke as much, mostly so I could stay on the track team. I was still a dreamer (as corny as that may sound) and I still barely ever used my head. It bugged Darry a lot, but I couldn't really help it.
Soda and Darry were on the front porch when I arrived, both looking grim. Soda's eyes were red. Something was wrong.
"Hey, guys," I said, but I instantly felt like the heaviness in the air blanketed my greeting. They didn't look up at me.
"What's going on?" I asked hesitantly, looking from one brother to the other. Soda looked up at me but Darry was staring at the wooden planks on the porch. Soda held up a piece of paper and before I saw what it said, I knew what it was. A school friend's brother had gotten one, too.
"Soda.. are you..?" The words "being drafted" were ready on my tongue, but I couldn't bring myself to say it. He nodded and fresh tears fell down his face. Oddly enough, I didn't start crying like I expected. I walked over to him and he stood up and we hugged for a long time. I couldn't wrap my head around it. Sodapop Curtis didn't belong in Vietnam, or at boot camp, or in a uniform. He never did anything to anyone. He didn't deserve that. He was too handsome to die.
My stomach crawled and I forced myself to think, He's not going to die. He probably won't even end up in Vietnam. He'll just go to boot camp, hang out at the stations here, and come home. No sweat.
I had a feeling that nothing I was telling myself was true. I was just rationalizing. No, I thought snappishly. You're not rationalizing anymore, pal. You're lying to yourself.
Soda, as expected, passed his inspection and was officially enlisted into the US Army. We had all hoped he'd fail, even though Soda was the healthiest guy we knew. He never drank, he only smoked when he wanted to look tuff or when he was nervous, his eyesight was 20/20, and he was in great shape. I'm sure the Army was ecstatic to have a guy in such good shape. They would have been knocked unconscious with glee if they'd drafted Darry instead of Soda; he was already strong and tough, on top of being healthy. Luckily, he was the oldest and was exempted from the draft. There was no chance I could lose both of them, which was a bitter releif to me.
Soda had gotten his notice on November 1st, had his inspection and passed on the 8th, and was given the rest of the month to pack and say goodbye. On December 1st, he left for boot camp. When he came back on leave, he told us that they were sending him to fight in Vietnam. None of us knew how to take it, so we tried to avoid it until the day he left.
On March 4th, we gathered at the train station to wish our favorite Greaser goodbye. Me, Darry, Two-Bit, Two-Bit's little sister Anna, and Soda.
Darry was wearing sunglasses to hide his crying eyes, though Soda was being completely open about it, with his runny nose and runny eyes. I hadn't cried yet, not even when we called Steve to tell him, or when Two-Bit and Anna saw his draft notice. Anna had harbored a crush on Soda for a long time, even though she was only thirteen. I looked at her, small with Two-Bit's rusty hair, head down and breaths coming in short snatches.
"She hasn't stopped crying since we found out," Two-Bit said to me quietly. Judging by the dark circles under her eyes, he wasn't exagurating.
All around us there were wives, sisters, brothers, daughters, sons, fathers saying goodbye. Not all of them were going to war. In fact, only a few that I could see were. Most of the people saying goodbye were smiling, saying things like, "Bring me something nice from California," and, "I'll see you soon. Have fun at Grandma's." I hated them with everything I could muster.
"Pony, be good," Soda said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Make sure you don't make Darry too mad."
He forced a smile. It looked mildly painful. I forced a smile, too.
"I won't," I said quietly. Soda took a long look at me before he pulled me into a bear hug. Before I could even registered the knot in my throat, I was sobbing. All of the tears I'd been holding up all month were coming out. I felt another pair of strong arms around me, and it was Darry, joining in our hug. His shoulders were heaving, like mine and Soda's. Anna and Two-Bit watched from a few feet away, respecting the brotherly moment we needed.
The three of us broke away and Soda looked at Anna, dancing gray eyes taking him in. He smiled and walked over to her, hugging her sweetly.
"I'll be back, Anna," he said to her, though I felt like it was directed towards me. Maybe that was just my greediness.
"Promise?" It was barely comprehensible through her hiccups. He nodded and kissed her forehead before hugging Two-Bit hard. Soda said something that made Two-Bit burst into a desperate mixture of a laugh and a sob. The train's whistle blew and Soda pulled away.
"I'll see you all soon. I'll write," he assured us, nodding. He sounded confident that nothing would happen, but I could tell that he wasn't as sure as he sounded. He boarded the train. I looked off to the side as I watched the train pull out of the station. A girl, face puffy and red, tried to run after it, yelling, "I love you, Marty! Don't forget to write!" It brought a new swell of tears to my eyes. I looked up and saw Soda in the last window on the train. He waved slowly, and I waved back.
That was the last time I ever saw my brother.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night.
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see.
All your life, you were always waiting for this moment to be free.
A/N. I was watching the actors' commentary on the newer version of The Outsiders that they came up with, and was shocked to find that S.E. Hinton informed Rob Lowe that after the movie/book, Soda goes to Vietnam and he dies there. I'm not going to lie about it, I cried for a solid half hour after I found that out. I don't know, Soda just.. it's such a sad way for him to go. SO ANYWAY. I thought I'd write about it. I couldn't bring myself to write about his death.
Please go easy on the flames; I'm just warming up to fanfictions again.
edit (2/19/08): taking Queen Jane's advice, I changed my story to be more accurate and more correct in formatting.
Disclaimer. I own absolutely nothing, not even the storyline of this fanfiction. (Okay, maybe a tinnyyy bit, but not a lot.) The song is Blackbird by the Beatles, though I used the lyrics from the Across the Universe version.