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Darry doesn't like Vicky.
She's babysat them a couple times before, the first time being when Mama had Pony last summer. Soda was really little then, only two, and still not that great at talking yet. Daddy told them they had to stay with Vicky for a day, and when Darry asked why, all he said was that the baby was coming and Mama had to go to the hospital for them to help her have it. That alone scared Darry; hospitals were for really sick people, like Grandma. When Soda was born, Grandma was still alive and he got to stay with her at her house for a night. After she was gone, Daddy said they had to leave Darry and Soda with a babysitter when the baby came. Darry had asked to come with them instead, begged, but Daddy said he was too little.
This time, their parents are out for their anniversary. It's their first time out just the two of them since having kids, Mama had explained, so Darry has to be brave and look out for his little brothers. He didn't know until she showed up at the house that it also means staying with Vicky.
Vicky is sixteen and lives on the other side of the train tracks. Darry knows this because she always talks about how she never comes to this side of town, complaining about everything that's apparently so different on the East side. Darry isn't sure how that makes sense, given that she has clearly been on this side of town to babysit, but it wasn't like he was going to ask. He avoids talking to her as much as possible, which is why hiding out playing on the cold kitchen floor is currently his most preferred option of spending the evening.
Vicky's on the couch watching TV. Darry can hear it blaring from the other room, some horrible dramatic show with lots of talking, nothing fun like the westerns Daddy sometimes lets him watch parts of when he's being good. He glances out the window again. Just like last time, it's only starting to get dark out. He can't tell time yet, but he knows the sun still being up means no Mama or Daddy for a while yet.
Darry sighs to himself and rolls around his beat up toy Ford. It's missing one of its wheels after Pony smashed it too hard against the wall a few weeks ago. Vicky said she hated the squeaky noise it makes when it rolls around three-wheeled, which is part of the other reason he's hiding out. Harder for her to rag on him if she can't even see him.
Suddenly, there's an odd noise coming from somewhere. It's faint and distant. Darry strains his ears, freezing the squeaky wheel sound. It seems to be a quiet whimpering coming from down the hall. Obviously it must be from one of his baby brothers, who are both supposed to be napping, but it's hard to tell who with how quiet it is.
Darry listens harder. The TV is still blaring, no sign of being turned off. He hears no movement from Vicky. The whimpering is getting louder now, starting to turn into genuine crying. Probably Ponyboy then. Darry puts down his car and follows the noise down the hall to the bedroom he shares with his brothers.
Soda is sitting up in his bed, clutching the blankets tightly in his little fists. From the crib in the other corner of the far side of the room, Pony is squirming around and beginning to cry. Not the loud, siren cries he does when Mama needs to feed him or Daddy needs to change him, but a hiccuping sob that sounds more sad than Darry's used to hearing a baby sound.
"Darry, baby cryin'," Soda says, his own bottom lip trembling. Although he can't say his R's real well yet, so both Darry's name and the word crying sound like they're spelled with W's.
His little brother's always been a crybaby, and they discovered after Pony was born that the baby crying can set him off too. It can get pretty loud when both of the them are crying, so he hopes Soda bursting into tears can be avoided tonight. That's the last thing he needs with Vicky here.
"I know, Soda," Darry says. "It's cause he's not supposa'be napping right now." He scowls. Vicky always does this, puts them down for a nap when she doesn't want to deal with them even if it's not nap time. Darry's old enough this go around that she couldn't really make him, but his little brothers she placed right into their beds and left them there to sleep, tired or not, almost as soon as their parents walked out the door.
He plods over to his middle brother. "Did you get any sleep, buddy?" He sits on the edge of Soda's little cot that's on the floor. Mama says he'll move into Darry's real bed with him once he's big enough, which Darry is kind of looking forward too. Soda often wants Darry to cuddle him to sleep in his own small cot anyway, so it'll be much easier to help his little brother once they can just share the same bed.
Soda shakes his head, still looking unsure about the crying. "Not sleepy."
Darry nods. "I figured." Soda crawls out from under his blanket and climbs into Darry's lap, his favorite place to sit and suck his thumb, which he starts up right away. Mama says he'll have to stop doing that before he goes to school in a couple years, but no one has the heart to make him break the habit yet. Darry wraps his arms around his baby brother like he's a teddy bear. They sit like that for a bit. He's hoping the baby will cry himself out and just go back to sleep, but while the wailing doesn't get any louder, it hasn't let up either. Darry frowns.
Soda looks up at his big brother with wide eyes. "Baby okay?" He asks nervously around his thumb.
"Let's check on him," Darry says. He stands and hefts the toddler into his arms. He's big for a seven-year-old, but even so, Soda's starting to grow too tall for him to easily hold anymore. But he knows it'll make his brother feel better both to be in Darry's arms and to get to see the baby, so he brings him along.
Darry walks over and peers into the crib. Pony is squirming around a bit like he does when he needs to be changed, but there's something else. His face is redder than it should be. Usually he only turns that color when he's really been screaming for a while, not when he's just making little hiccuping whimpers. He looks very upset, but isn't crying as hard as he would usually be if that was the case. Remembering what Mama would do in this situation, Darry takes a hand away from supporting Soda to feel the baby's forehead. He's warm, and not in the snuggly-baby way, more toasty like the oven when he leans too close to it.
Little toddler hands grip onto the side of the crib. "What wrong, Darry?" Soda asks. He doesn't look like he's about to start crying anymore, but he does look about as confused as a three-year-old can.
"I think Pony might be sick, Soda." Darry is suddenly scared. What does it mean that the baby's sick? He's been sick himself many times before, and he knows it's no fun, but aren't babies really fragile? Is it worse if the baby gets sick—is he in danger?
When Darry tries to pull his hand away, Pony's eyes suddenly crack open and he reaches out to wrap his tiny fists around the fingers on Darry's hand.
"Mama..." Pony whimpers, one of his only words. Darry's heart feels really sad and heavy. He wishes Mama were here too, cause she'd know exactly what to do. He only barely knows how to handle the baby when he's acting normal, certainly not when he's crying and possibly sick.
"I know, baby," Darry says to Pony. He moves his hand to stroke the fuzz on top of his baby brother's head, just like Daddy does when any of them are crying.
That's it! Darry should just call Mama and Daddy and tell them to come home. Then he won't have to worry about what to do and Pony will be taken care of. He heaves Soda up from his hip and places the toddler in the crib next to the baby.
"You keep an eye on the baby, okay Pepsi?" Darry says. He knows it'll keep Soda calmer to be next to one of his brothers, and to have a task to focus on.
Soda nods quite seriously, and watches Pony like he'll spontaneously disappear at any moment. He reaches out a hand to pat the baby's leg gently, which seems to calm them both down a bit. Darry steels himself, satisfied, and makes his way back out of the bedroom to get the phone.
Peeking around the corner when all he hears is silence, he finds the living room empty. Vicky must have gone to use the bathroom or outside to smoke. Darry scampers over to the phone; this will have to be quick. There's only one problem. Even if he knew what bar or restaurant Mama and Daddy were at, which he doesn't, he's not that good at reading yet and he's not sure he could find the right number in the phone book. He picks up the phone and stares at it, hopping maybe the number will magically pop into his head. Maybe the operator can tell him where to call?
"Hey," he suddenly hears. Oh great. "What do you think you're doing with the phone?"
He slowly sets it down and turns around. Darry's tall for his age, and Vicky's not as tall as his mom, but she still seems like a giant when she stands over him with that scowl on her face.
"I was just...," he's not sure he should say. Vicky will surely get angry that he was trying to call his parents while she's watching them.
"You were just what? What would you need the phone for?" She cocks her hip to the side. Clearly whatever answer he gives will be the wrong one, so he decides it's better to just be honest.
"Pony's sick," he mutters, glancing up at Vicky. "He's crying a bunch and he feels really warm."
Vicky scoffs. "I'm sure he's fine. He's a baby, ain't he? Babies cry. He'll fall back asleep eventually." She crosses her arms and glares down at Darry as if daring him to argue.
But Darry can't help it. He wants to be good for Mama and Daddy, but Vicky won't even go check on Pony while he's upset. "But, it isn't even his bedtime yet and Mama usually feeds him–"
"Well Mama's not here right now, is she?" Vicky crouches down to stare at him right in the eyes. It's like when the rich kids at school make faces at his rattier clothes or beat up books—makes him feel smaller, likes he's not worth more than an angry look. "Now you go put yourself to bed with your little brothers, or I'm gonna have to tell your parents all about how you were causing trouble messing with the phone and refusing to go to bed."
"But the baby–"
"I said now, you little greaser brat!"
Darry stumbles back when her voice raises. Mama and Daddy never yell, not unless he or Soda are doing something dangerous. It makes a sudden fear rise up inside of him. His insides he feel all tight and squishy. Before she can do something even scarier, like hit him, Darry races out of the room and back into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him while being careful not to slam it.
It's a little harder to breathe, and he's not really sure why. He kinda feels like he does when he falls off his bike—startled and sad. There're tears welling up in his eyes as he huffs air in and out with his back pressed solidly against the door.
Soda is blinking nervously at him from the crib. He's since laid his head down next to Ponyboy, stroking the baby's tummy, who's still whimpering and wiggling around. Darry sighs, feeling somehow older than seven, although he's not sure how or why. He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand and walks carefully over to his little brothers.
When he reaches down to feel Pony's forehead again, it's still very warm. At this point there's no hope of him getting their parents to come home early, and he simply has no idea what to do with a sick baby. The one thing he does know is none of them have eaten dinner yet, and it's getting dark enough outside that it really will be Soda and Pony's bedtime soon.
Vicky will be of no use, that much she's made clear. She also now expects him to be going to sleep as well, which will make what he has to do next trickier, but he can't let his sick baby brother cry himself to sleep without even having his bottle.
"Pepsi, you wanna play a really fun game?" Darry asks as a plan starts to form in his head. His little brother sits up and blinks his sleepy eyes open very wide, nodding excitedly around the thumb he's sucking. "It's called secret mission. We have to be really quiet and pretend like we're spies, so no one'll find us. Can you do that?"
Soda nods again, and reaches his little arms out in front of him. Darry lifts the toddler out of the crib and sets him on the floor next to him. They're gonna have to leave the baby in here—which Soda won't like—because Darry won't be able to carry the bottle and the baby at the same time, and his crying would alert Vicky immediately that they were out of their room. Instead of telling his brother this, he searches around on the floor for a minute before he finds a stray pacifier. He wipes it off on the hem of his shirt and puts it in Soda's mouth, who happily accepts a replacement for his thumb. He's always happier when he's sucking on something, and this will keep him from talking too.
Darry grabs Soda's little hand in his and leads his brother toward the door. First he just cracks it open, peaking his ear out into the hallway. The noise of the TV is back, which means Vicky is at least occupied with something, and something that makes noise, for now. Hand in hand again, the boys creep out of the cracked door and take quiet footsteps down the hall toward the kitchen.
Now comes the hard part. Darry stares up at the cabinets, trying to remember which one Daddy reaches into for the can of evaporated milk they use for Pony's formula. He's pretty sure it's one of the shelves next to the stove, so he stretches up onto his tip toes and is just barely able to open the cabinet door. There it is, a couple cans of it, perched on the second highest shelf.
There's no way Darry can reach that high; he could barely open the cabinet. Although he doesn't like it, this is where Soda is gonna have to come in. He crouches down beside his little brother and sticks his mouth right next to his ear to whisper very quietly.
"Soda, I need yer help. You see those cans up there with the flowers on the front? I need you to grab one for me. I'm gonna hold you up on top of the counter so you can reach. Okay?"
Soda looks confused for a second, but glances way up high to look at the open cabinet, and nods. Darry sure hopes this'll work.
He grabs his brother under the armpits and lifts him with all his strength onto the counter. His little socked feet are already unstable, so Darry holds him even tighter while he watches Soda look around at all the cans in the cupboard. Peering up at him, the three-year-old looks like he's concentrating pretty hard on finding the right thing. The flowers, Darry thinks, wishing he could telepathically communicate with his brother. It's the can with the flowers.
He's seen Mama and Daddy make Ponyboy's formula many times. Mama still tries to feed Pony herself when she can, but she says now that he's older she doesn't make as much milk, so they have to feed the baby formula as well. She says very few parents breast or bottle feed their babies for as long as she has with the three of them, but that she believes it helps them grow stronger. Ponyboy eats plenty of solid food by now, but he stills gets some milk, whether from Mama or a bottle, every night.
Darry loves helping with his little brothers, so Daddy taught him how to make it early on. He would sit on the counter kicking his legs and watch a can of evaporated milk be mixed with dark corn syrup and water. He probably helped make some of Soda's formula too, although he doesn't remembered back that far very well.
It seems Soda has finally spotted the right can, and reaches out his little hand to grab it. Darry cheers silently. He lifts his brother back down onto the floor and ruffles his hair. "Great job little buddy!" He whispers, and Soda beams around his pacifier.
The Karo is easy to grab from a cabinet on the floor, and there's a clean bottle left out to dry on the counter from the night before that he snatches as well. All he needs now is some water and then...
The TV switches to commercial. Darry panics. Vicky always wanders around when her show's not on, and if she catches him sneaking through the kitchen like this, she'll definitely lock him in his room and he won't be able to feed his brothers.
Quickly, Darry piles the bottle, syrup, and can of milk all in Soda's arms. "Soda, I need you to run back quietly to the bedroom. Bring these to the baby, okay? I'll be right behind you." The toddler looks nervously at Darry but sets off silently in a little run nonetheless. He breaths a sigh of relief just as Vicky walks around the corner into the kitchen, immediately glaring.
"I thought I told you to go to bed?"
Darry worries his hands together behind his back. "I was just, uh..." Think! "Just... getting a glass of water before bed, that's all. Is that okay?"
He really hams up the innocent and cute act: eyes all big, hunched shoulders. He knows his parents at least have a hard time saying no when he reminds them he's still just their little baby. Maybe Vicky will go easy on him. At the very least, maybe if he asks instead of explains she'll feel like she's in charge enough to let him. Teenagers seem to like that kinda thing.
Vicky's lip pulls back in a sneer. She glances around, checking the kitchen for signs of trouble, probably, and looks Darry up and down. If she doesn't say yes, he doesn't know how he'll manage to feed his baby brothers tonight.
"If... if you let me just grab a glass of water and a sandwich, I'll tell Mama you're the best babysitter ever."
He's pulled out the big guns, and now there's no going back. There's nothing he'd like more than to tell Mama and Daddy all about the horrible things she did all night, but if it'll let him take care of his brothers, anything is worth it. Vicky seems taken aback by his statement.
"How do I know you're not a little lying brat?" She asks, but seems more suspicious than angry at this point. There's a doubtful sneer painted across her porcelain face.
"I swear on Soda and Pony both that I ain't lying." Darry says. Amazingly, Vicky seems to take this as seriously as he means it, and rolls her eyes at the sentiment.
She uncrosses her arms and kneels down to stare him right in the face. She seems to love doing that. He braces with his hands behind his back, waiting for it all to fall apart, expecting it to. Maybe she'll finally hit him, or maybe she'll kick him out to the backyard all night, or worst of all, maybe she'll do something to Soda or Pony as punishment for him. There's no telling what lengths she would go to just to make him miserable.
But instead: "fine," she finally concedes. Darry has to clench his teeth to keep from gaping in surprise. "One glass of water, one sandwich, and then I'm locking all three of you menaces in your room for the night. Are we clear, Darrel?"
He nods, and smiles for good measure. It's almost too easy! If he'd known all it would take was promising to compliment her, he'd have done it as soon as she got there.
When Vicky stands, he wastes no time in snatching a sandwich from the icebox. Mama always leaves a sandwich made in there in case Daddy gets home from work late after dinner. He also grabs a cup and fills it with water, which he'll use part of for the formula and the rest with Soda's dinner.
Vicky follows behind him as he trots back to the bedroom. He's praying that Soda didn't just abandon everything all over the floor where she'll instantly see it, or else the whole plan derails. Luckily, after a frantic search with his eyes while standing in the doorway, it seems the supplies might have been dumped onto Soda's cot, which is in the far corner of the room. Vicky doesn't seem to be searching for trouble anyway. As soon as he takes a step inside, the door is slamming shut behind him.
There's the click of the lock turning. They're stuck for the night.
Soda is standing at the crib with his hands on the bars, but he's turned to look at Darry after the sound of the door. He's starting to look pretty sleepy the way the sucking on his pacifier is slowing. Pony's still whimper-crying away, so Darry gets right to work.
He moves over to the cot to pick up all the supplies and set them on the floor. "Soda, c'mere." The toddler wobbles his way over to him and plops down on the bed beside his brother.
The glass of water gets set on the floor with everything else, and he unwraps the sandwich neatly. The bread gets peeled back and he picks a slice of ham out and hands it to his brother. Soda's a bit of a picky eater, and he knows he won't like the mayo, but if he picks the pieces of ham and cheese off and feeds them to him individually it could pass for an actual meal. It always surprises Darry how little his baby brothers eat, but Daddy says they don't need as much since they're smaller than him. Even so, it makes Darry sad that all Soda will get for dinner tonight are some measly pieces of lunch meat.
While he's munching on the first piece of ham, Darry goes about making up the bottle. Although he knows what goes into it, he's not entirely sure how much of each thing he should mix together. He knows it's mostly the milk though. Once he's poked a hole in that can, the bottle gets most of the way filled up with milk. The formula is always white, not brown, so he should probably only put a dash of the syrup in. The rest of the bottle gets filled up with water before he puts the top on and shakes it all up together.
It looks alright. He considers trying it, but it probably won't taste good to him even if he did make it correctly.
Soda gets handed a piece of cheese this time while Darry goes to feed the baby. Ponyboy's eyes and face are red, probably from the fever. Seeing the bottle perks him up though, and Darry reaches down to pull him into his arms.
Immediately his crying quiets down. Daddy always bounces him on his shoulder and pats his back, so that's exactly what Darry does, and it helps him to calm down maybe even more than the baby. Holding and rocking his brother is like a rush of cool water over his face on a hot day, immediate relief. He's here, he's okay, and Vicky can't do anything to him as long as he's in Darry's arms.
He sits back down next to Soda and turns his brother around in his arms so he's sitting up, facing in toward Darry's lap. Pony doesn't immediately grab for the bottle like he normally would. Sometimes Darry doesn't feel like eating when he's sick either, but his parents always make him anyway, so in the bottle goes to the baby's mouth. He protests at first, wiggling around and trying with his little hands to push the bottle away, but the bottle stays firmly in until he begins to tentatively suckle.
He's like a little furnace in Darry's lap as he drinks down the formula. Soda whines softly in the back of his throat, so he hands him another piece of meat and scoots the glass of water over to sit in front of his brother.
They sit in silence for a while. Darry hands one little brother sandwich pieces with his left hand and supports the other's bottle with his right hand. His own stomach growls—he hasn't eaten anything since Mama made him lunch today, but he ignores it. He'll be fine for one night; his brothers need dinner more than he does.
The baby's fussing starts to dwindle as the bottle empties. His little eyelids flutter as he struggles to keep them open. Darry soothingly runs a hand up and down his back, adjusting his hold so the baby's lying back in his arms instead of sitting upright in his lap. The bottle is soon released from his little hands and the rest of his body goes slack with sleep.
Darry lets out a long breath. Finally, Ponyboy can get some rest. It was breaking his heart to watch his little brother in so much discomfort for so long.
Soda doesn't look much better on his other side. The toddler is swaying a bit and blinking his eyes open repeatedly, clearly trying in vain to stay awake. Darry replaces the pacifier in his mouth and slowly leans his brother up against his side under his arm. If they both fall asleep, maybe he'll finally be able to stop worrying for the night. Two sleeping brothers means he just has to wait for their parents to get home and it'll all be over. Vicky will be gone.
When Darry is next aware of anything, there's a gentle hand shaking him. He blinks his eyes open. He didn't even realize he had closed them.
"Darry, wake up, honey."
His sleepy vision clears and there's his mother, crouched down in front of him. Daddy is leaning over right beside her. Darry grins; they're finally home.
"Mama..." he says happily, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
"I'm here, baby." She runs a hand over his head. "Why are the three of you all sleeping in Soda's bed?"
Darry blinks at her confusedly for a moment. Then he remembers: Vicky, getting locked in, feeding the baby, who—when he looks down—is fast asleep in his arms. He still feels warm to the touch, even in his peaceful sleep. Soda is conked out against his other shoulder with his blanket clutched tight to his chest.
Darry looks up at his parents. "Mama, Pony's sick." He hopes they'll know exactly what to do, because he's pretty tired, and he's not sure he could figure out what else Ponyboy needs at this point.
His parents share a concerned look. Daddy lifts his baby brother out of Darry's arms, checking his temperature with his palm to the baby's forehead. Mama reaches a hand out to both Darry and Soda to gently stroke their cheeks. Darry melts into her touch.
"He does feel pretty warm, Mol," Daddy says, glancing down at Mama. He's bouncing the baby on his shoulder softly to keep him asleep.
Mama sighs, which makes Darry tense up. He hates when she sighs. It always means she's either sad or angry, and he's not sure which is worse. "Babydoll, why don't you come sit with Mama on your bed and we'll have a little chat while Daddy puts Pony to sleep?"
Why would Mama want to talk to him in the middle of the night? Did he do something really bad? Did Vicky tell her something? He promised he would say good things about her, so why would she get him in trouble?
Soda stirs beside him. The toddler yawns around his pacifier and rubs a little fist against his eyes. A moment later, he notices who's in the room.
"Mama!" He exclaims. Darry and Mama both immediately shush him.
"Shhh, the baby's trying to sleep, honey. Your brother and I were just going to have a little chat, weren't we, Darry?" She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. He assumes she's checking that he's not going to put up a fight about it. Normally, he might whine about letting it wait until tomorrow, hoping she'd just forget about the whole thing by morning, but something tells him this conversation is not one to slip his mother's mind.
"Yeah," Darry replies, quietly. "Go back to sleep Soda."
His little brother yawns again, and turns to fully lay down in his bed. "Daddy tuck me in?" Soda whispers. Mama smiles at him, the corners of her mouth lifting slowly.
"Of course, baby. He'll come tuck you in right after he takes care of Pony." She nods to where Daddy is still gently bouncy Ponyboy, about to set the baby down in his crib for the night. Soda seems satisfied by this and shuts his eyes contentedly. He looks so small and cuddly wrapped around his blankets like that. Darry wishes he could just curl up beside Soda and snuggle with him until they both fall asleep.
Instead, he follows dutifully behind Mama as she moves to sit on his bed. He climbs up beside her, bracing himself for whatever he's in trouble over. There's nothing Darry dislikes more than when he's disappointed his parents. It makes him all shaky inside.
Mama brushes some hair back from his face as she turns to him. "Honey, Vicky told us some things about this evening before she left for the night."
He knew it. Of course Vicky decided to tattle on him. She couldn't be trusted, and he should have known that. She never liked Darry, never liked any of them.
"She said you were making some trouble while she was trying to deal with your brothers," Mama continues. She glances at Daddy for a moment, seeming hesitant about the next part. "That you were trying to use the phone to call us and tell us to come home, and when she asked you to stop and find something quiet to do, she told us you tried to sneak out of the house multiple times, and tried to bring Sodapop with you. And that that's why she had to lock your bedroom door and send you to bed without dinner."
Mama tilts her head down to look directly into Darry's eyes, which have begun to water. "Is that what happened, baby? I know you get nervous about being left at home without us."
There's that achey feeling in his chest again, just like when Vicky shouted at him. Apparently she chose parts of the story to tell the truth about, and made the rest up to make herself look like the poor, do-good babysitter, out of options with an unruly little boy. That's what Vicky likes to think of him, deep down, even though he's never disobeyed her unless it was an emergency. He tries to be a good son, to follow directions, to set an example for his little brothers and be responsible. Darry hates breaking rules, but Vicky left him with no choice. Was he just supposed to let his sick baby brother starve?
His chest kind of burns and there are tears escaping his eyes now, no longer held back. "I'm sorry, Mama," he sobs quietly. He hates being a disappointment! "I'm really sorry, I just wanted to help, especially cause the baby was sick, I didn't mean to be bad..."
He can't keep himself from beginning to cry in earnest. It's so embarrassing. He's not a baby anymore like Soda or Pony, and he shouldn't be crying just cause he got in trouble. Usually he can keep it together when he gets a talking to, but something about this night is different. He just feels so helpless and overwhelmed. It was so hard having to figure out how to take care of his brothers all on his own. Every little thing that went wrong just made him more afraid that he was messing everything up, and this conversation made him sure of it.
"Darry," Daddy says. Darry looks up from his lap at his father, small hiccuping sobs still escaping. Daddy's moved away from the crib and is kneeling down by Soda's cot now. He's holding up Pony's bottle and the sandwich offings and wrapper from earlier. "What are these things doing on the floor?"
He sniffles, and run an arm across his face. "Vicky wouldn't give Soda or Pony any dinner. She was trying to make them go to sleep right away, even when I told her the baby was crying and sick. So I made Ponyboy a bottle and gave Soda a sandwich. Sorry I left them on the floor, I didn't mean to fall asleep like that..."
Another sob bubbles up in his chest as his parents exchange frantic looks. Even when he's trying to help, all he does is make things harder. What a terrible son he must be. When he's trying to be a good big brother, he disappoints his parents.
Mama places a hand on his back and rubs it soothingly. It feels nice, even if she's angry. She must be furious with him for trying to act like an adult when he knows next to nothing about actually taking care of babies. But when she speaks, he can't really be sure how she's feeling. "Babydoll, Vicky wasn't giving any of you food?" Her voice lilts on some delicate emotion, barely avoiding breaking.
Darry shakes his head. "Mmm-mm, so I just thought I should give them both something. And Pony finally stopped crying once he'd had his bottle. But Vicky'd only let me get the sandwich for Soda if we stayed locked in here for the rest of the night."
Mama gasps. He looks up at her, panicked.
"Did I do something else bad, Mama?" Frighteningly, it looks like she has tears in her eyes too. Darry never meant to make Mama cry! Daddy moves toward them and kneels down in front of Darry on the floor, and he doesn't look much better. There ain't nothing he can do right tonight, it seems. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"
"No, no baby," Mama says. She swipes under her red eyes to get rid of the couple of escaped tears, then places her hands on his shoulders, gripping gently, so he has no choice but to look straight at her. "I want you to listen very carefully. You did absolutely nothing wrong by trying to do right by your little brothers tonight, you understand?"
Darry blinks away the residual tears in his eyes. He didn't do nothing wrong? "But what about the stuff Vicky told you?"
Daddy pats his knee gently, and Darry turns to look at him. "Hon, was most of what Vicky told us about tonight the truth?"
He's not sure what to say. Vicky did lie, but aren't adults allowed to lie sometimes? He knows they've lied to him before, like when Mama was more hurt than they would tell him after having Soda; she was in the hospital for days, and he knew that meant something bad. Then again, Daddy probably wouldn't be asking if he thought Darry's answer was going to simply be 'yes, Vicky was completely honest.' Slowly, he shakes his head. Daddy sighs.
"Son, I want you to take a good look at each of your brothers." He holds Darry's chin gently and turns his head to glance at Pony, asleep soundly in his crib, and Soda, sprawled out on his cot. "I see two little boys sleeping peacefully at night because they know their big brother's in the same room watchin' over them. And when they're awake in the mornin', y'know what I think I'll see then?"
"What?" Darry asks, listening carefully.
"I betchu I'll see two little brothers who are happy and healthy because their oldest brother is always lookin' out for them, even if it does him harm." Daddy shakes him gently, like he's trying to get Darry to laugh. His eyes are deep and sad, but he smiles up at Darry from the floor. The smile everyone says looks just the same as his.
"We are so proud of you for taking care of your little brothers, Darry," Mommy tells him in her lullaby voice. "They are lucky to have you as a brother. We are the luckiest parents in the world to have you as a son, my baby." She wraps both of her arms around his shoulders and pulls him close. Daddy leans in too and rests his forehead against Darry, reaching a hand up to stroke the back of his head.
He feels warm and safe wrapped up in the arms of his parents. Nothing can hurt him as long as they're around, just like nothing can hurt his brothers as long as he's around. He smiles as he nuzzles his face into Mama's chest, tears slowing to a stop. Hearing her steady heartbeat reminds him that she will always be around to love and take care of him, even after scary things.
Mama pulls back slightly so she can wipe the tears tracks from his cheeks. Darry twiddles his thumbs, something still needling at the back of his mind. "Will... Vicky come back to babysit again?" He asks nervously, glancing between his parents.
"No, no she will not," Daddy replies straight away, voice cold. "She is not coming near you boys ever again."
Darry nods, seeing the steel in his father's eyes, relieved. He didn't realize just how scared he was of that not being the case until a great weight vanishes from his chest with his father's words. Vicky can't hurt them anymore. She's gone for good.
"We are very proud of you for putting your brothers first, Darrel," Daddy says. "But I don't want you doing that again, okay? Soda and Pony need taking care of but so do you. You hear me? So do you."
Not knowing what to say, Darry dives back into his parents' hold. They hug him tight, no sign of letting go anytime soon, strong, warm, and here.
Maybe Darry was a lot better at taking care of his brothers than he thought. It made him feel real good to look out for them like that, like he's finally starting to grow up.
He'd be okay with not ever having to do it by himself again, though.