Chapter Text
Summers in the prairies were cruel.
There were few trees to shade from the sun. Wildfires were liable to start any moment. In mere minutes, they could swallow a field whole, sending thick clouds of smoke to the sky. Farms could be razed before the first throw of water was even pulled from the well.
Sun scorched the backs of the farmers toiling in fields. The sunsets were brilliant red, a stroke of blood painted across the sky. Yankees would call it hell, but the people who lived there knew better. Summer wasn’t hell, winter was.
Winter stretched across the landscape like the cruel fingers of death. It covered the earth with blankets of snow, a mother tucking her children to sleep. And sleep they would. With winter brought starvation. Those unprepared for the freeze would find themselves unable to find plants or animals to sustain themselves.
The snow laid like a mirror, reflecting the sun endlessly back on itself. In the winter, it never truly got dark, but it was even easier to get lost. Weighed down by snow and ice, every tree looked the same. One could hardly tell the difference between a fence and a ravine.
Yet, coming off of a burning summer, the residents of Green Gables sighed in relief when they knew winter was coming. They would have a few weeks of fall before winter turned the land inhabitable once again. The eye of the hurricane.
That meant it was time to scramble, to get as many provisions ready for winter as they could. Chop wood, can food, reinforce the barn, hang guiding lines from the farmhouse to stables, dry meat, trade for wool and blankets, fix old winter clothing. If they were lucky, they had eight weeks to prepare.
They were hardly ever lucky.
It was that thought that struck Darrel Curtis the hardest. This would be the first winter without his parents, without their mama’s preserves and her way of making everything stretch as long as possible. Without them, Darry was terrified.
And it wasn’t just Darry and his brother, Sodapop, he had to think about. It was the farmhands, his closest friends, and little Johnny Cade who lived up the hill. They all relied on Green Gables to survive the winter. So, though he didn’t like the idea one bit, on the first day of September, Darry sat down and wrote a letter.
He never thought he’d be the kind of person to take in an orphan, but the long and short of it was they needed a girl. They needed someone to help can and cook and prepare the farm for winter. They needed someone who could mend clothes and sew blankets. For that, they would need a girl.
He’d gotten the name of the orphanage from one of his old friends, Paul. Paul’s family had gotten a servant from there a few years ago. The thought made Darry’s stomach roll, but he didn’t have much of a choice. It was that, or let his family starve.
Darry penned the letter and sent it off. A week or so later, he got a letter back, saying that a young girl would be arriving at the end of September.
Soda sat on the floor in front of the fire one night, just days before the girl was due to arrive. Ace was fast asleep on the couch, curled like a pill bug under a quilt. From the sounds of it, Johnny and Two-Bit were in the kitchen, making tea.
Soda shuffled a deck of cards through his fingers, they rolled like waves under his touch. When he leaned back, Soda looked over at Darry, sitting in his armchair. “What do you think she’ll be like?” Soda asked. “Do you know how old she is?”
Darry shrugged, “She’s probably fourteen or fifteen. Hopefully she’ll be a hard worker.”
Sodapop rolled his eyes. It was hard not to miss the joking, loving big brother he used to have, but he understood Darry, and didn't envy him one bit. “Do you think being around so many boys is gonna scare her off? Maybe we could get Ace to talk to her, make sure she’s comfortable.”
Darry hummed non-committedly. “Don’t go getting attached. I don’t know how long we’ll be able to have her here after winter.” But they both knew it was already too late. Telling Sodapop not to get attached to something was like telling a sheep not to grow wool.
The train station was nothing more than a platform and a roof beside the train tracks. Prairie grass grew through the slats of the boards. The humming of insects radiated from underneath Ponyboy’s feet as he sat on the bench. His shoes were stained with coal and city dirt, he hid them from the platform with his travel bag, a half empty, old thing.
Ponyboy shifted uncomfortably in his wool shirt and the pants that were just a little too short on him and too thick for the season. The boy’s hair was thick, all tussled up by the wind. The others on the platform were clearly wealthy, dressed in fine clothes and coats. Pony wanted to disappear, he could feel their eyes on him, judging his ragged appearance.
In his lap was a thick book. The pages were yellowed and waterlogged, the front cover was half torn off. The spine was cracked, nearly splitting the book in two. He held it like it was the most precious thing in the world, to him it was.
He’d been sitting at the station for a while now, over an hour, and no one had come to get him.
A knot of anxiety was growing tight in his chest. What if no one ever came? Would he have to sleep on this bench? And then what? Would he go back to the orphanage?
No. He would rather take his chances here than return to the city.
Another twenty minutes passed. Ponyboy’s eyes were fixed to the clock above the station master’s booth. He yearned to continue reading his book, but he was too afraid he would miss the person coming for him.
Just as Ponyboy was about to fully start to panic, a boy with blond hair jogged onto the platform. He wore dirty clothes, mud and straw stuck to his boots. He had a kind smile and bright eyes. For a moment, Ponyboy let himself imagine that this was the person coming to get him.
He looked like a cowboy, like he was taken right off the cover of the matron’s books. It was easy to imagine the boy galloping into the sunset on a wild bronco or singing songs around the campfire. He looked noble and kind and heroic. He was the kind of person Ponyboy wanted to stay with.
The blond boy looked around the platform, shielding his eyes from the sun. Not finding who he was looking for, the boy walked over to the station master, asking a question that Ponyboy couldn’t hear over the noise around him. He saw the station master point at Ponyboy. Pony’s chest seized up.
The other boy’s head turned, eyes widening when he looked at Ponyboy. He was frozen still for a moment, then seemed to shake away the stupor and approach.
Pony stood up, quickly tucking his book into his bag before the boy came to stand in front of him. He gave Ponyboy a nervous smile, “Hey, I’m Sodapop.” There was a softness to his voice, slanted vowels and long consonants, that Pony knew was typical of homesteaders.
The strange name made Ponyboy smile. For once he didn’t have to worry about being laughed at when he said, “Ponyboy. I was...I’m from the city.”
Sodapop grinned, taking Ponyboy’s bag, “It’s nice to meet you, Ponyboy. Come on,” Sodapop jerked his head towards the exit, “I’ll take you to Green Gables.”
“Green Gables?” The name flipped off Ponyboy’s tongue. It sounded like something from a novel. Is that where he would be living? It couldn’t be, it sounded like too fantastic of a place.
Soda nodded, leading Ponyboy out of the station. “Yeah, it’s the name of the farm, my mama always wanted a house with green gables so my dad built it for her when they got married.” Soda unhitched a brown horse, patting his nose affectionately. Soda grinned at Ponyboy, “You ever ridden a horse before?”
Pony shook his head. To be honest, he was a little wary of the creature towering over him. The horses in the city weren’t friendly, they were liable to snap at you or run you over if you didn’t get out of their way.
But Soda seemed comfortable enough around the horse that Ponyboy crept forward. The horse huffed, pawing at the ground impatiently.
Soda rolled his eyes at the horse, patting his neck, “Yeah, we’re goin’, Mickey.” Like it was the easiest thing in the world, Sodapop hopped up on the fence and slung himself into the saddle. Just like Pony imagined, he looked like a cowboy.
With Soda’s help, Ponyboy got into the saddle behind him, holding tight to his waist. Soda smelled like clean air and horses, like the prairie.
Ponyboy’s heart jerked in his chest as the horse started, it was strange to him to put trust into a wild creature, but Soda seemed perfectly in control. To distract himself from worrying too much, Ponyboy turned his head to take in the sights.
It had been a long time since Pony had seen anything but the dirty city. Now, he was surrounded by rivers and tall grass, trees that bowed low over the dirt road.
His fingers itched for his pencil and paper, he wanted to draw everything he saw. It was everything that Ponyboy had always dreamed about as he read his books. It was a fairytale.
He knew it wouldn’t last long, as soon as they got to Green Gables, he’d be put to work. He already knew he’d be exhausted at the end of every day, the matron told him that homesteaders worked their farmhands to the bone. Ponyboy only prayed that he’d have time to read and draw at night, that his hands wouldn’t ache too much.
As they rode, Soda talked the whole time. Most of it, Ponyboy didn’t pay attention to, letting the words wash over him like clear stream water. He found out that Soda’s parents were dead, that it was him and his older brother keeping the farm in their place. That was why they needed help. Ponyboy remembered reading about the horrible winter last year. The paper had been filled with dozens and dozens of articles chronicling the deaths of hundreds across the territory after one horrible day. Most of the deceased had been children.
It was still a warm September day, Ponyboy shoved the thoughts of ice out of his mind and inhaled the tepid air.
Sodapop was kind. He didn’t seem put off by Pony’s quiet demeanor and knew better than to ask anything about Pony’s past. Ponyboy had to imagine that someone like Soda had a brother of the same caliber. Maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as he expected. His heart started to lift.
The trees were red and yellow and orange, a sunset bending above them as if in prayer, nearly touching their heads. Growing bold, Ponyboy reached up and touched one of the leaves that brushed his head. It was dry but soft under his fingers.
“City boy, huh?” Soda asked, looking over his shoulder. Ponyboy nodded, he let the leaf fall from his fingers and drift away on the wind. A soft smile crossed Sodapop’s face.
Soda faced the road, but he kept one ear out for Ponyboy. Every so often, he’d laugh or gasp softly, taking in another new sight. It clenched at Soda’s heart.
He knew Darry was going to be upset, the orphanage had messed up and sent them a boy. But when Soda saw that kid at the platform, he hadn’t been able to send him back to the city. He looked so young and hopeful. Something about this kid reminded Soda of Johnny Cade, he was too small and bent in on himself.
Soda couldn’t bring himself to tell a clearly unwanted kid that he couldn’t stay. Soda didn’t want to be the one to break his heart and send him away. He knew it was awful, but he would let Darry be the bad guy. Yeah, Darry would be pissed at him, but that was okay.
Mickey Mouse took them home without Soda having to guide him much. Soda took a slow pace, letting Ponyboy take in the sights and putting off the inevitable. By the time they turned onto their road, the sun was just beginning to set.
As they passed the weathered sign proclaiming the homestead as Green Gables, he heard another soft gasp from Ponyboy.
Soda tried to see it through Pony’s eyes. It was nothing special, a single barn along the winding road to a small farm house. They passed a paddock where Dally was with the other two horses. His whistles carried on the wind. Ace and the other boys were probably mucking out the stalls or tending to the other animals this time of day.
A big tree stood in front of the house, decorating the ground with a beautiful rug of leaves. Though the house was weathered and the paint was chipping, it had the charm of something made with love.
And standing on the front porch was Darrel. Soda’s lungs squeezed. Darry told him not to get attached, but he had already failed. Part of him longed to spur Mickey and turn around, run from the storm he knew was coming.
The man standing on the steps didn’t look much like Soda, Ponyboy thought as Soda helped him down from the horse. He was taller with broad shoulders and a square jaw. His clothes were worn, the colors almost faded. His hands were rough from farm work and there was a crease on his forehead despite his youthful appearance.
He looked at Ponyboy with eyes like ice. Ponyboy wanted to hide behind Soda, but knew better. The man came down the steps. Ponyboy opened his mouth to say hello, but the man cut him off and said, “Sodapop, what the hell is this?”
While he shared an accent with Soda, their demeanors could not be more different. Soda looked nervous, taking the reins of his horse, “Darry, this is Ponyboy, they sent him from the orphanage in the city.”
Darry swore under his breath and ran a hand over his head. Ponyboy stood as still as he could. Any warm feelings he’d had about Green Gables were gone. This man was just like the factory owners back in the city. Still, Darry didn’t look at him and only talked to Sodapop, “Why didn’t you send him back?”
“Send me back?” Ponyboy was speaking before he knew he had opened his mouth. Like he could suddenly see him, Darry looked at him with wide eyes, as though he was shocked all over again by his presence. “I just got here.”
“Someone fucked up,” Darry said, voice sharp. “They were supposed to send us a girl. We got plenty of farmhands.”
Ponyboy felt as though someone had pushed him under icy water. They didn’t want him. Well that tracked, no one had ever wanted him, not even his mama. But he wouldn’t let them send him back to the orphanage, he would run away, maybe another farm around here could use help or he could take his chances in the wilderness.
But then he looked at the big oak tree and the farm house. It was like a dream.
Ponyboy stepped towards Darry, “I know how to sew and I-I can-”
Darry held up a hand to silence him. Ponyboy’s mouth shut with a click of teeth. As much as he wanted to protest, he didn’t know this man, he didn’t know the repercussions for not heeding him. Based on the size of his arms and his height, he wasn’t eager to find out.
“You can stay here tonight, but Soda will take you back to the station tomorrow morning,” Darry took Mickey’s reins from Soda and led the horse into the barn. Ponyboy was left standing there with his bag in his hands. At least it stopped them from shaking.
Sodapop took a small step towards him, he looked like he wanted to cry even more than Pony did. “I’m sorry, kid. I... I’ll take you inside.” Ponyboy followed Sodapop into the house of his dreams, knowing it wasn’t ever going to be his.
Soda opened the door to the bedroom on the second floor. It had small, sloped ceilings where the roof of the house was. The bed was small but draped with plenty of blankets and pillows. In the wardrobe, Soda had put a few of their mother’s old dresses he figured would fit a girl his age.
Ponyboy hadn’t spoken since Darry walked off, just kept his head down. It broke Soda’s heart. He bet this kid had never been loved in his whole life, he’d just been passed from person to person, none of whom cared about him. He and Darry were just another pair in that long line.
Ponyboy padded into the bedroom, setting his small bag down by the foot of the bed. Soda wanted to pull the boy into a hug, he looked so small in the room. But he didn’t, it would only make tomorrow hurt more. Instead, he gave Pony what he hoped was a supportive smile. “You can settle in, I’ll let you know when dinner is ready, okay?”
Ponyboy nodded. Soda wanted to apologize again and promise that this isn’t what he wanted to happen. But he didn’t. Soda jogged out of the house and to the barn. Dally was leading two horses into their stalls, both freshly brushed.
Giving the horses a loving pat as he walked by, Soda moved past them to Mickey Mouse’s stall. Darry sat on the stool, picking his hooves with a deep frown.
“He can’t stay,” Darry said, looking up as he put down Mickey’s hoof. He leaned on his elbows. Since their parents died, Darry had aged a dozen years. Sometimes Soda just wanted to shake his big brother and tell him that he didn’t need to be so strong. “You know he can’t, Soda.”
Soda shook his head. He walked into the stall. Mickey snorted happily upon seeing him, nudging his velvety nose into Soda’s head. Soda pet him, taking solace in the warm breath of his horse. “Why not? I know he’s not what you wanted, but we can use an extra pair of hands around here.”
Darry stood up and got Mickey’s brush, not meeting his brother’s eyes as he started to brush the horse’s flank. “We need extra hands to take care of the house and prepare for winter. We can’t afford another teenage boy to feed.”
“We would figure it out, you know we could. Besides, mama taught me more than you. If he helps around the farm, I can fix the house and can stuff and cook food. I’m only good with the horses anyway and Dal’s doing most of it already. And I can teach him how to preserve food-”
“I said no!” Darry snapped. His loud voice startled Mickey, causing him to stomp his hooves angrily. Both brothers stepped back quickly, Soda cooing out comforting words to his horse. Once Mickey was once again nuzzling Soda’s shoulder, Darry dragged a dirty hand down his face. He continued in a softer tone, “I said no, Soda. If we’re not ready for winter, we’ll die. We can’t risk it.”
Soda hung his head. Every year there were stories of families in the prairie who ran out of food and had to eat their dogs and horses. Every year a few people would freeze or starve in their farm houses. Without their parents, it was all on Darry to keep his people alive through to the spring, Soda understood that.
Soda scratched Mickey’s nose. “I’m sorry, Dar. I know this is stressful.” Darry sighed. He walked over to Soda and pulled him into a hug. Just like their dad used to do, Darry propped his chin on Soda’s head.
Soda pressed his nose into Darry’s shoulder. And as much as he hated himself for saying it, Soda told him, “I’ll take him to the station in the morning.”