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"I'm so far from home
It seems like yesterday
I started to roam
I'll be back round again
When I can't stay too long
I'll be there just in time to tell you
That I'm moving on…"
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August 29, 1967
7:13 pm
"Let's give them some time," Jessup suggests quietly. A click and then the door shuts, leaving the three of us alone.
I tighten my grip on Ponyboy as his sobs subside, his body racking against mine. He sniffles once and buries his face closer to my chest. "I'm sorry," he croaks.
A pain goes through me. "Ponyboy, you can't do this to yourself. You hear me?" I stroke his sweaty hair, wishing he'd look up.
Soda, on the opposite side of us, gingerly settles himself on the bed next to Pony. His eyes are red but his voice calm. "Oh honey. You never have to be sorry for this."
Then Soda's eyes reach mine and I nod slowly, letting Soda do what he does best.
"You can't blame yourself, Pone," Soda murmurs, reaching out to take Pony's shoulder as I slowly release my grip on him. "We're so glad to have you back." Gently, he pulls Pony up to face us and then wraps his arms around him, something I know he has wanted to do ever since we both entered the room.
When Ponyboy draws away from Soda's embrace he stares at us. Tear marks make long trails down his ashen face. "I – I never thought they'd find me. I didn't think anyone would come."
Soda shushes him, but his hands tremble at Pony's words. His one fear has come to a head. Dar…what if he's out there hurt and alone? Waiting for us but no one's coming. He's going to think I just gave up and left him-
"Pone…" I scoot closer to him, wanting to evaluate the damage that has been done to my brother. "You know we'd never give up, don't you? No matter how long it took."
He shakes his head and covers his eyes again. "Yeah…No…I don't know, Darry…" When he speaks his voice is raspy, strained. It is then I notice the bruising around his throat, the way he shields himself with his arms.
I notice all this with a sinking feeling in my stomach, knowing that he's going to hurt a lot more before he's better.
I push this fact aside and do what I do best. Stay calm. Stay together. "Kiddo," I say, taking his hands, unfolding them from his protective stance. "No one will ever hurt you again. He can't. He's dead."
"What're you talking about Darry?" Ponyboy nearly yells, his weak voice bordering on hysterics. He jerks away from my grip.
Soda and I stare at him in shocked silence.
"He ain't dead! He killed him and he ain't dead!"
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August 29, 1967
7:45 pm
"…So the younger man…" Benji checks his notes, "…whom you refer to as Freckle, entered the room with the intention of aiding your rescue?"
Ponyboy looks at Benji as if he is stupid. "Yeah, that's what I said." The boy tugs at the edge of his sheet. "Then he came – Blonde – and shot him."
Darry coughs nervously, shifting in his chair.
The other brother, Sodapop, keeps a firm arm around Ponyboy's shoulder. He whispers something in Pony's ear. Relief flickers in Ponyboy's eyes.
"And after that?" I speak up; knowing the end of this conversation is near.
Soda shoots me a death glare. "You know what happened."
"I want to hear it from him." I stand at the foot of the bed. "Pony?"
For the second time tonight I am running through the end of Ponyboy's story. Not that I doubt the boy, I want to make sure we miss nothing. Now that we have a second – living – suspect running around, it's my goal to catch the son of a bitch as fast as possible.
"He choked me." Pony's hands unconsciously drift to his throat. "Then he heard you guys in the house and ran."
"Can we go over the description once more?" I ask, nodding at Benji who readies his pencil.
"Blonde, tall. A sharp nose…" Ponyboy recounts staccato-like. "He had blue – ice blue eyes, kinda like Dally used to."
Darry speaks up. "An old friend of ours."
I nod, knowing all too well who Dallas Winston was. Impatient, I ask, "Anything else you can think of? Scars? Tattoo?"
"I can't think of anything…else…" Ponyboy drawls off.
The boy suddenly grimaces and shuts his eyes. "You don't – you don't think he's going to come back and find me do you? Because if you can't find him and he's out there-"
His voice gets higher and scratchier by the second; Benji shoots me a look.
"Pone," Darry cautions. "You're not supposed to talk so much." I see a semblance of the kid he was before this as Ponyboy rolls his eyes at his brother's admonition.
Standing up, Darry rubs his palms on the front of his jeans. "We need to finish this."
"Ok." But I don't give in that easily. "Tomorrow then."
Darry looks at me, his mouth a thin white line. At this moment, seeing his brother react painfully to the questions, it's a lot harder for Darry Curtis to let me grill Ponyboy.
"Tomorrow," I reiterate.
He may not like it but knows it has to be done.
"Fine." Darry nods his agreement.
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August 29, 1967
8:32 pm
A hush falls over the room as the nurse attempts to administer an IV to Ponyboy. "I'm sorry," she apologizes for the second time. "We gotta get this in, hon."
She looks at Soda helplessly. "He needs liquids."
"Just do it," Soda mutters, his teeth clenched. We have fought with Ponyboy for the last half hour, finally getting him to come around to the whole needle-idea. I understand Soda's need to just get this over with, sparing our brother the delay any longer.
The nurse, as gently as possible, slides the needle into the top of Ponyboy's hand. Ponyboy lets out a yelp, but Soda tries to still him by talking softly. Pony keeps his eyes shut.
I watch from the corner of the room as the nurse stabs a needle into a vial of liquid and then sticks the needle into the IV. "This will help with the pain." She glances at me. "It will calm him down, help him sleep."
Already Ponyboy is drifting off. Soda makes sure he's asleep and then sinks into the chair. His elbow rests on the chair's arm as he covers his eyes with his hand and sighs.
The nurse asks me, "Now, the doctor told you about the drugs in his system?"
Crossing my arms, I nod mutely, my jaw tightening. Soda doesn't raise his head but from his tense shoulders, I know he's listening.
"It was only for a week but because he's young," the nurse begins, packing up her tools, "and because he had a lot in his system he'll experience withdrawal symptoms. Probably only for about a day or two. Anxiety, nausea…but he'll get through it."
She smiles at us, a tinge of sadness in it. "It's probably pointless to tell you visiting hours are over."
Soda looks up and laughs aloud. "Good luck lady."
I smile slightly at Soda's laugh, the sound so foreign, it's a relief to finally hear it again.
The nurse chuckles. "I'll just conveniently forget about you." She nods at the closet. "There's a cot in there."
"Thanks," I say, rubbing a hand through my hair.
"I'll check on you in the morning," the nurse says, opening the door. "If he needs anything, hit the call button."
Then, she sweeps out of the room, leaving the three of us alone together. The events of the past week hang over us, seeming surreal.
I slump against the wall, watching Ponyboy sleep. His face finally composed, peaceful.
But it won't last long. Because when he wakes, he'll remember.
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August 29, 1967
11:14 pm
"Goddamn it!" I exclaim, pounding the steering wheel in frustration.
I had been so sure we had caught him, that we could close the book on this investigation.
The drive from the station to my home is a long one, giving me a chance to be alone with my berating thoughts. I take the corner hard, my cruiser's wheels spinning their protest.
Instead, I still have to find the loose ends and tie them up in a neat ball. If not, this all falls on me.
I fervently hope that Ponyboy Curtis has the answers I need but the boy's understandably not coping yet.
This will not end like the last time I think and instantly curse the reporter who had gotten the jump on me earlier tonight.
Benji and I had been leaving the hospital after questioning Ponyboy and had stumbled into the mass of reporter's flooding the scene. I had anticipated the ambush and had my token responses ready.
That is until Rudy Gershwin had asked the million dollar question. "Detective Jessup," he had shouted. "What precautions are you taking so that this case doesn't end up like the Bethlehem case?"
I ignored that question, giving Rudy a smug Nice Try smile but I couldn't deny the fact that he had shaken me. This whole case had shaken me, but I took it, trying to make up for Chris Bethlehem.
However, one look at Ponyboy Curtis's face made me doubt it.
I could see the boy who had been there. A quiet, shy kid who ran track, loved his brother's, cherished his friends, a bit reckless when it called for it, a bit goofy.
Only now, I couldn't see any of that left in Ponyboy. It was the same with Chris Bethlehem; he crawled within until he lost his way.
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Missing Boy Found by Rudy Gershwin
(Tulsa World)
August 30, 1967
Ponyboy Curtis, 15, has been found. Late last night, the Tulsa Police Department gathered for a press conference outside of St. Francis Hospital. Head Detective William Jessup would not comment on much except the fact that the culprit has yet to be found.
"Now that Ponyboy Curtis has been found," Jessup stated, "the investigation has shifted toward the suspect." There has been no mention on the motive for the kidnapping or any potential suspects.
Detective Jessup is best known for leading the Bethlehem case of last winter. 14 year old Chris Bethlehem had been abducted by Robert Lee Lewis. Bethlehem was recovered by the police after a three week captivity. When the case went to trial, evidence linking Lewis to the abduction was found to be circumstantial and the case dismissed. Lewis was released and two weeks later Chris Bethlehem took his own life.
The Tulsa Police stand by their decision to allow Jessup to lead this case. "Detective Jessup is one of the finest police officers I know," Chief Oliver Gavin commented. "As a department, as a community, we place our trust in him."
Throughout the case, Ponyboy's brothers have been unavailable for comment.
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