Headcanons Minifics Ships

Last Updated- October 18, 2023

Sorry I haven’t posted for over a year but here we are

Convincing you to read my short story (kinda) that’s based around the song American Pie by Don McLean

I awake to my radio alarm playing ‘Peggy Sue by Buddy Holly,but I turn of the radio before the song ends. I quickly shower and get dressed, late for my paper route. I hopped on my red hand-me-down bike and rode to the Whiteridge Press Building to get my papers as soon as I got them, the February Upstate New York wind chilled me to my bone. I looked down to read the headlines and one caught my eye “Three Rock’N’Roll Singers Plus Pilot Die in Tragic Plane Accident” I kept reading “Holly,22, Richardson,28, Valens,17, and Peterson,21. All died in the wee morning hours of February 3rd 1959 due to inclement weather conditions, they crashed in a field in Iowa roughly 30 minutes after take off.” I just froze, it was always my dream to play the guitar like Ritchie or sing like Buddy, but I didn’t have time to mourn now because if I didn’t hurry I’d be late for school too. I quickly got back in my bike with every paper I threw, I reread the headline to ensure I read it right

As I kept throwing the papers I was thinking of Buddy’s wife, The Big Bopper’s wife, and Ritchie’s girlfriend, I thought about how Ritchie was only six years older than me.

After my paper route, I went to class, but I didn’t focus at all, I just wanted to get home and play my old Rickenbacker from when my dad was a kid. And I did just that, I went home and played my guitar every night, destined to become the next great like Buddy, Ritchie, Elvis. Over time my sandy hair grew longer, I got thicker-brimmed glasses, I lost the baby fat, and I’ve gotten good at guitar and new idols: The Beatles, The Doors, Bob Dylan, and The Beach Boys. I’ve met this girl Jane. She’s in my English class and is smart as a whip. I start walking her to class.

“Jane,right?” I asked, knowing the answer all ready but just wanting to start a conversation.

“Yes and you’re Russell, right?” She asks with a smile.

“Yep, that’s me. You should go to the Levee with me and some friends tonight.”

“I’ll see,” she said

“Ok,” I say dropping her at her class.

“Bye, Jane,” I say

“Bye, Russ, see you later” She smiles

I have to run to get to my class on time. All class, I was writing lyrics and daydreaming about her. After school, I pick up my paycheck and call Jane from a pay phone.

“Hey, Jane” I speak into the phone

“Hey, Russ” She speaks happily.

“What did your parents say?” I ask

“I can” She replies

“Okay,I’ll be over in 20 minutes” I say

“Okay, I’ll see you soon then” She replies

“Bye” I say before hanging up

“Bye” she replies

I get in my truck and turn it on, then turn on my radio, and Dion and The Belmonts are playing on in my ‘60 Chevy C10. I drive to her house just listening to the radio and singing along.

When I get to her house, I knock on her door.

“Hello, sir, I’m Russell and I would like to take your daughter out tonight to the Levee with some of my friends and their girlfriends, but before we meet them, we will probably go to get a hamburger somewhere, sir,” I say nervously to her dad who answers the door.

“Do you plan for there to be more of these, young man?” the 6’5 intimidating man asks.

“Yes sir,” I say

I see her come down the stairs and say “Dad, stop scaring him.” She looks gorgeous in jeans and a button-up blouse, her caramel-colored hair wrapped up in a bandana.

“Wow,” is the only thing I can mutter. I lead her to my truck and open the door for her. Then I get in the truck and ask her what she wants for food.

“Ummm, how about that local hamburger place downtown?” She asked

“I pay and you get whatever you want, I got paid today,” I say “I must say you look stunning tonight, not that you don't usually but even more so tonight.

I drive to James’ Hamburger Shack. Everyone knows the story behind it since we are in a small town. The story is that James was fourteen years old when the US got involved in World War Two. He was a generally troublesome kid, but not in the eyes of the law just like a bully. One day, his dad just snapped and enlisted him with a false birthday. The Marines knew, but they needed soldiers, so they didn’t report it.

We get to the hamburger place and get our food.

“Okay, so,” I break the comfortable silence “My friends with their girlfriends are going to meet us at the football field, and then they will ride in the bed of the truck to the Levee. Okay?”

“Okay,” she replies contently

We finish eating and go to my truck. As we drive to the football field, I’m joking and laughing. We get to the football field and my friends and their partners get in the bed of the truck.

“Want to roll down the windows?” I ask Jane.

“Sure,” She replies rolling down the windows

“Tell me if you get cold,” I say while rolling down my window “You are as pretty as American Pie.”

When we get to the Levee, it’s dry. Us guys toss and catch a football in the ‘dry in some spots and muddy in others Levee’ while our girlfriends gossip. After a while, I go to Jane and ask if she's ok.

“I’m fine, but you are super muddy and your mom is gonna kill you” she laughs

“Oh, so that's how it is,” I say trying to wipe mud on her.

She starts running and I start chasing her, we both giggle. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Johnnie’s girlfriend, Carol, taking a Polaroid of me and Jane chasing each other. After about four hours of hanging out, I take everyone back to the football field and they get out, so it's only me and Jane in the truck once again.

“Miss American Pie, did you have fun?” I ask smiling while she's cuddled up to me as I drive.

She just nods not having the energy to speak.

“I’m glad,” I say

“You don’t have to say yes tonight, but...” I interrupt myself “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

She stays silent.

“It’s okay, take your time,” I say softly reassuringly.

When get to her house and as I walk her to her door she said “Yes, Russ, I’ll be your girlfriend”

“Okay,” I say excitedly, “Have a good night and sleep well, bye-bye Miss American Pie.”

“Good night, Russ, I had fun” She replied.

I go home and write some lyrics.

“Did you write the book of love/And do you have faith in God above/If the Bible tells you so?/Now do you believe in rock and roll?/Can music save your mortal soul?/And can you teach me how to dance real slow?”

Around six months later, I was going to surprise her with a locket after she had to tutor this jock in the gym one day. I sit outside the gym and watch them dance with their shoes kicked off not to scuff the wooden floor. When she comes out and sees me, she tries to act like nothing is happening.

“I saw you dancing with him,” I say trying not to act hurt.

“What? We were just studying, we weren’t dancing,” She said avoiding eye contact.

“He’s the reason you haven’t been hanging out with me recently, hm?” I say starting to lose my cool, “Just tell the truth.”

“I一 N一 Yes” She tries to lie but the words won’t come out.

“Okay,” I say before handing her the locket, “I was going to ask you to the Valentine’s sockhop, but never mind.”

I get in my truck blast whatever rock station was on and just drive until I reach the iced-over levee. I toss rocks into the ice, breaking it like my heart, shattering it into one million and one tiny fragments. I threw the pink carnations, I was going to give her into the cold icy water. Then I went home and got out the guitar Jane gave me for Christmas and questioned whether I should keep it or give it back to her, It’s a cherry red Gibson Les Paul Solid Guitar Standard 1962 model and tone like heaven. I sit down on my cold hard floor and start writing

“I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck/With a pink carnation and a pickup truck/But I knew I was out of luck/The day the music died”

Eight years later, I was drafted into the Vietnam War on Christmas of 1969, my mom cried, and my current girlfriend, Betty, cried.

I hug Betty and whisper “It’ll all be okay, I promise. I don’t have to leave until the thirtieth of this month, so until then let’s just relax and play the guitar you got me. Okay?”

She just nods and we go to my room and set up my guitar. Betty watches me play my guitar for a while before I get out my old Rickenbacker that was now beaten up from all the use and abuse it endured from me, so I can teach Betty to play.

I look at her with so much love in my eyes, “When I get back I will marry you, I promise, we will grow old together.” I whisper.

She just looked at me and said “Okay,”

“When do you want to go to your parents for Christmas with them?” I ask

“Whenever you want,” she replies while fiddling with the guitar.

“Okay,” I say “I’m going to start getting on better clothes than what I wore around my family.” I go to put on a button shirt and some nice jeans with a newer Converse.

“Okay, I’m ready if you are,” I say helping her up from the ground.

“Okay,” she says as she pulls up on my arm. I help her in my truck, and then I go to start it. The truck whines for a moment before it starts.

“Come on, baby,” I mutter to the truck as it struggles to start.

“I need to start saving for a new truck, what do you think of a Bronco?” I ask Betty.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll be happy with it” She replies holding my hand when I’m not having to shift gears.

When we get to her house, I slam the car in park.

“Ready, Pretty girl?” I ask. She just nods and goes to get out of the truck.

The week flies by and the next thing everyone knows, I’m at the training getting ready to be shipped off to U-Tapao Air Base in Thailand.

A few months later, I write a letter to her.

“My Dear Betty,

I miss you and I wish I was here to see your college graduating. I hate it here, all of the death and violence. Nothing is like it was, they made me cut my hair. Why, some of these kids here can’t even drink, but they can nearly die for a country that butted their nose in a war that wasn’t their business. The only way I’m staying sane is you and thinking about you. I love and miss you. I wish I had time to write more, but they are keeping me busy. Remember, I love you.

Sincerely, Your Love,

Russ”

My service was up at the end of June of 1970. I walked into the airport after landing to protest the war. I get into my now ten-year-old, which barely starts, it's starting to rust and spit and sputter even more than ever, but I guess what happens when you leave a truck that was ridden hard and put up wet to sit for one year. When the truck finally starts, I take the truck to the Ford dealership to buy a new Bronco two-tone red and white with a trade-in and my Army money. After I buy the Bronco, I go to Betty’s to see her. I knock on her door with pink carnations in my hand.

She opens the door jumps in my arms and screams “Russ, you’re home, I missed you!”

I buckle a little from the onset of weight which hits quickly, I whisper “I missed you too. I’m home. I’m safe, I promise. You are even more gorgeous than I remember.” I rub her back.

“I bought a new truck, you know the Bronco I was talking about, I bought,” I say

After a few moments, we get in the new truck and go ride around the small town just singing along to the radio and talking.

“Do you want to go see if the Levee has water?” I ask briefly taking my eyes off the road to look at her.

“We can,” she replies.

“Want to roll the windows down?” I ask

“Okay, we can,” She said rolling down her window, her perfect coils of auburn hair blowing with the gusts winds with her aquamarine eyes and perfect, wide, white smile glimming with joy.

I roll my window down and just keep singing and periodically looking over at her. We get to the Levee and I go check and I yell back “It’s dry, what do you want to do instead?”

“Do you just want to go to my house and we can just hang out?” She replies

“We can,” I say getting back in the truck.

I drive us back to her place and when we get there, I just start writing while talking to her and strumming my acoustic guitar and writing lyrics in different orders some one hundred different times.

“And moss grows fat on a rollin' stone/But that's not how it used to be”

I turn the radio and barely ever hear Elvis, I hear Bob Dylan more, I ask Betty, “Did Dylan overtake Elvis while I was in ‘Nam?”

She nods “ Yes, he did.” That inspires me to write the next lyric.

“When the jester sang for the king and queen/In a coat he borrowed from James Dean/And a voice that came from you and me”

I turn on the news, It’s filled with Pro-Vietnam or Anti-Vietnam propaganda depending on which of the channels you are on.

“It’s like a jury with no verdict deciding whether this is fair or not” I quietly say to Betty

“I know, I don’t think it is,” she said quietly.

I write down these lines.

“The courtroom was adjourned/No verdict was returned”

“Do you want to take a day trip down to New York City tomorrow?” I ask

“I would love to, Love.” She replies

Around eighty-thirty post meridiem, I say goodnight to her and go to my parents' house.

“Okay, Love, I’m going back to my parents now, I’ll pick you up at eight ante meridiem. Goodnight darling. I love you.” I say kissing her on the cheek and getting up off the couch.

The next morning, I put a New York City tee-shirt tucked into some jeans with a belt with the jeans cuffed and brand new black Chuck Taylor’s before grabbing my wallet, keys, and a drink for the ride. When I get to her house, I knock on the door and she instantly answers.

We drive the two-and-a-half hours to New York City, laughing and smiling with Betty periodically taking pictures of me and the scenery. When we get there she immediately takes multiple pictures of the skyline with the World Trade Center Towers being built and The Empire State Building emerging from the fog whimsically.

¨Look how beautiful, it’s almost as beautiful as you” I whisper into her hair.

She blushes and hugs me, “Stop, you are making me blush, Russell.”

“Mmm, usually I would say yes ma’am but I like making you blush.” I say quietly, “What do you say to a walk through Central Park, M’lady?”

We walk through New York to Central Park, when I see the opportunity to recreate the cover of “The Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan.”

“Betty, will you please recreate this album cover with me?” I ask almost begging.

She does, and then we contine walking towards the park; When we get to the park, I see a quartet practicing, couples walking happily, and people sitting on benches reading books of different varieties. Then I see him, My idol since I was 16, John Lennon reading a book on Marxism. I look over at Betty to see if she notices him too.

She does and she says “Why don’t you go talk to him?”

“No, He looks peaceful and I bet he is tired of people coming up to him, I mean The Beatles just ended like last year, you know, so I’m not going to bother him,” I say calmly.

“Okay, love.” She says as we keep walking through the peaceful meadow, which is like a slice of heaven in the hustle and bustle of the city that never sleeps. We hold hands not possessively but in a peaceful manner that shows we are comfortable and we want to be close to each other while we walk. We get pictures in Central Park, by the Empire State Building, The Dakota Building, and the Statue of Liberty before we start the driving back exhausted, but content.

“Did you have a good day?” I ask her who’s lying across the bench seat with her head in my lap. She just nods and closes her eyes at peace in my lap while I drive. While she sleeps in my lap, I drive quietly humming along to the music, and sporadically look down to check on her.

When we get around five minutes from Whiteridge, I wake up Betty.

“Hey love, we are around five minutes from home,” I say to her.

“Mmmm, okay, what time is it?” She asks as she tries to regain her bearings after sleeping for two hours.

“Uhhhh,” I say looking at the clock, “About 10:30.”

“Okay,” she said sitting up in her seat.

When we get to her house, I walk her to her door and say “Goodnight my love, I love you so much. Sleep well.”

When I get to my house, I go to write lyrics

“And while Lennin read a book on Marx/The quartet practiced in the park/And we sang dirges in the dark”

I think of a time I haven’t in around eleven years, the day Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J.P Richardson died in the infamous plane crash that fateful February morning, and how now I’m older than Ritchie will ever be and that I’m one month short of the age Buddy was when he died. I write the lyric “The Day the Music Died.”

Over time I just start writing more progressive lyrics, I start writing lyrics about the Cold War and what’s going on in the world. I think back to before I got drafted and I remember the scene the Charles Manson’s murders caused because he blamed The Beatles' song “Helter Skelter” he said the song told him to do it. I write down “Helter skelter in a summer swelter” before turning on the news. As I flip through the news channels, one that catches my eye; I hear American Pinaist and Composer Earl Grant was killed in a car crash yesterday in Lordsburg, New Mexico along in his car was his younger cousin, Roosevelt Woods III. Grant was thirty-nine and Woods was seventeen. I listen to that story flipping to the next channel where they are still talking about the Cold War like they have been for the last twenty-three years at this point. I kind of wish someone would fire already, I don’t remember a time without the news talking about it. I write “The birds flew off with a fallout shelter/Eight miles high and falling fast”. After that lyric, I decide to go to Betty’s house and just hang out with her.

After a good while of just sitting on her couch and watching television, she asks “Do you want to go to the high school football game they are having alumni night tonight?”

“I mean if you do we can, I’m not dressed very nice, but okay.” I say waiting for her response.

“I do.” She replies.

“Wait,” I pull a box out of my pocket “This isn’t as romantic as I hoped or dreamed it would be, but this is as good of a time as ever, I guess.”

She just stares at me dumbfoundedly

I get on one knee in front of her “Nancy Betty Rodgers, Would you do me the honor and make me the happiest man in the world…”

She starts to cry tears of joy

“And marry me?” I contine

“Yes, Yes one million times yes” she holds her hand out for me to slip the ring on her and I do. We both just smile like little kids on Christmas morning opening their gifts from Santa because we are going to be bride and groom.

We go to the game and within the first quarter, Our team the Whiteridge Patriots tries for around six forward passes but our offense couldn’t catch, then I notice why the star player was on the sideline in a cast. I remember hearing about this, the dude, I think his name is Lucas, but his nickname is Shaggy because of his hair, but I digress, he was messing around with some of his friends on a minibike and he flipped in and broke his arm.

Before we knew it, it was halftime and the marching band, The Marching Sargents, took the field, We all got up to dance along to their music, but it was like a time warp we didn’t have the chance to because the team started on the field. The band refused to yield, causing instruments to be broken and people to fall like a car wreck on the field.

On the way home from the game, Betty and I sit in complete comfortable silence, and during the silence, I ponder who I would’ve become if I wasn’t a paper boy and if I hadn’t seen the headline about Buddy’s, Ritchie’s, and JP’s death at the age of eleven at six-thirty in the morning. Would I’ve had my heart broken by Jane, fallen in love with Betty or even been drafted into Vietnam. Would I have learned to play guitar and gotten serious about it or would’ve turned out like every single other guy in this town and worked at the steel mill like my daddy and his before him? I began to realize that if I hadn’t read the paper that day, I would’ve read the paper another day or another and began to realize how cruel the world is. Just that day, that paper, was how I woke up to the real world and started to mature as a person mentally and emotionally. That was my wake-up call and mine was different from Betty’s, Jane’s, Johnie's, My dad’s, my mom’s, or my brother’s.

When I got home, I wrote the lyrics “Do you recall what was revealed/The day the music died?”

A little under a year later, all our friends and family gathered in one place at my and Betty’s wedding. I stand there at the altar as she and her dad walk down the aisle. I begin to cry seeing my bride looking stunning in her white gown, her auburn coils glimmering in the sunlight. The only thing I can even mouth is woah from my mouth hanging open.

As the wedding moves on, the more in love, I fall staring into her wide aquamarine eyes. When the time of the vows comes I say mine first, “Betty, I fell in love with you the first time I laid my eyes on you and have kept falling ever since. Since I was eighteen and you were seventeen to the time we are one hundred and ninety-nine, I will love you until my dying breath, I swear. I will be the best husband and potential father I can possibly be. You could’ve had anyone you wanted in the world with your sweet personality, blinding smile, shining eyes, and heart-stoppingly good looks, but you chose me, a kid with possibly no future, still running the same paper route since he was ten, guitarist, hopeless romantic, with no athleticism, and you stuck by me throughout my grandparents dying, getting drafted for Vietnam and going away for over a year, you stayed, you loved me. And I don’t think I could ever repay, or show you enough attention to even come close to making it up to you, but I’m going to try. I’ll be here through sickness and health, good times and bad, prosperity and poverty. I’ll be here for you. Always and Forever, I love you, I’m here for you, Always and forever. Now and then. Yesterday and tomorrow.”

Her vows aren’t as wordy as mine but you can tell are just as heartfelt.

After the honeymoon, I start writing more lyrics, “A generation lost in space/With no time left to start again/So come on, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick/Jack Flash sat on a candlestick/'Cause fire is the devil's only friend”

I start going to New York City three times a week, trying to get my music heard. I keep growing my hair and swap my thick Buddy Holly-type glasses for thinner metal frames, I kind of look like an off-brand John Lennon.

While in New York, I go to Janis Joplin's memorial garden. When I finally got my music heard, It was almost like I was Robert Johnson, and sold my soul to the devil at the crossroads. My music became popular it felt almost overnight.

And that’s the story of my most famous song American Pie. Betty and I lasted. I’m now sixty-four and she’s sixty-three years old, we have three boys and a girl, Jackson, thirty-six, Joshua, thirty-four, Jeremy, thirty-two, and Julia, thirty. Currently, we have grandkids with 2 on the way, Lennon and Presley, granddaughters from Jackson, Dylan and Marley, A grandson and a granddaughter on the way from Josh, and Jeremy and His girlfriend have a son on his way. I’m still creating music. Julia is a doctor, Jeremy is an engineer for NASA, Joshua is a lawyer, and Jackson is perusing music like I did. I’ve lived through the deaths of my favorite musicians and I love that people especially teenagers still listen to people like The Doors, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Dylan, Presley, Hendrix, or Cobain. I wish after I pass, I still get listened to and loved.

Ten years later, I passed away after a long-term battle with Cancer which I have been hiding since before that interview and is the reason I agreed to be interviewed in the first place. I passed surrounded by the people I loved the most, My dear wife, My four darling children, and their partners. When I died, I didn’t see the Father, son, or the holy ghost, I saw Buddy, Ritchie, and JP.

People call my death the new day the music died. I live through every time my song is even whistled, I live every time I am: heard, talked about, sung, remembered, or hummed. Just because I am not here physically doesn’t mean I am not here spiritually.

“…Give me all the platinum albums you want, all the drugs and all the Cuervo and all the fun times and successes and the fame and all of it, I would hand them all back to you, just as the cost of my memories with her….”

Songs in Alphabetical Order

Our Quarterback- “Wait, this is the moment in those romantic comedies where I kiss the you”- Finn Hudson (Glee)

The daggers got to stay together after the events of TGM. When they aren’t on a top secret (like the public CANNOT know under any circumstance) mission, they all teach a top gun

Rooster, Bob, Phoenix, Payback, Fanboy, Maverick, and Hangman all got promoted. Maverick as the permanent commander of the Daggers.

Barbecues at Mav’s and Penny’s

Borrowing Mav’s P-51

Beating the new classes of Top Gun in training dog fights

Bets

Movie nights

Dogfight football

Gym days

Hard deck

Pranks

Fun

Singalongs

In order of artists

NOTES

Takes place 2 years after the outsiders

This based off the story that Rob Lowe asked SE Hinton what happened to Sodapop after the book and she replied He dies in Vietnam.

- [ ] Darry is 22

- [ ] Soda is 18

- [ ] Pony is 16

- [ ] Two bit is 20

- [ ] Steve is 19

Pony, now 16, knows how Dally and Johnny felt when they die, 16 years isn’t long enough. Most of his writing now consists of memories of Johnny and Dally and characters based off them. Darry sure is easier on him in the yelling at him. Pony saids the world is different now, the Socs and Greasers war is nearly over. 2 years ago, the fight got too far, 2 socs left the fight, Bob and Randy, and three greasers, Dally, Johnny, and Pony.

“Steve, ya hear the US joined the war in Vietnam” Soda ran in from outside the DX.

“Yeah, why are you asking are you thinking about joining?” Steve replied

“I mean I guess, I need to talk to Super Dope about it because Pony has been through so much between Momma, and Pops, Johnny, and Dally.” Soda said quietly. Tulsa has definitely been quieter since that night two falls ago. Pony’s nightmares are definitely worse than before.

As Soda gets home, he sees a familiar face on the steps along with a not so familiar baby. “Sandy?” Soda calls out.

Sandy snaps her head in Soda’s direction “Hey Soda…so umm well meet Sammy” she replies nervously.

From what Soda can tell the baby is about two years old and looks like how he did when he was that age, “Is he mine” Soda replied with a blank expression.

“I’m pretty sure” Sandy replied

“You don’t know who’s kid that is” Soda said shocked “can I hold him”

“Sure” she said giving him to him.

“Hey Buddy, I’ll be your dad if it’s on with your mom, my name is Sodapop Curtis” Soda saids to the baby.

Darry walks up holding his back, “Pepsi-Cola, who’s the kid?”

“Hey Darry, we need to talk.”Soda saids signaling Sandy to take Sam and leave.

“What is it, Sode?”

“Ok so, this is gonna be a lot. First off, I want to enlist to fight in Vietnam. Secondly, Sandy thinks that kid I was holding is mine and I did the timeframe in my head and the dates are close.” Soda saids slowly so Darry can catch all of it.

“The ‘nam thing, you need to talk to Pone about that, because he’s the one who’s lost his two best friends and his parents two years ago and the baby thing you can take paternal responsibility for it and never get a paternity test or get a paternity test and if the test says he’s yours you can raise him. ” Darry saids wisely.

“I’ll talk to Pony and I’ll just raise him I don’t care about blood because the gang is our family and they ain’t blood.” Soda saids walking in the house.

Soda knocks on the door to the room that he and Ponyboy shares, he walks in “Hey Pony, can we talk?” Soda asks

“Uh yeah sure. ” Pony saids putting his book down.

“So I don’t know if they talked to you in your history class today about the war in Vietnam.” Soda saids “How would you feel if I joined the war?”

“Soda, you do you just know that’s your life you’re putting on the line and I’ll miss you but if you really want to you should.” Pony replies picking his book back up.

Soda and Sandy meet up at the Dingo for dinner.

“I don’t care what Sam’s blood is, I will raise him, if you will allow me.” Soda starts “And I enlisted to go to ‘Nam I leave out in two days, will you wait on me? I would love to date you again Sandy. If you would date me?”

“I- Soda, you just told me you want to father my son, then you told me you are leaving for war in two day, and then you asked me to date you in that order” Sandy said “I’ll think about it.”

Two days later

Darry and Pony drive Soda to the airport to fly to whatever military base his reporting to.

Three months later

At this point, Soda has been gone for months and still no one has gotten a letter and has stopped hoping for a letter.

Six months later

Still no word from Soda and man is Tulsa really quiet now.

One year (march 30) later

Darry scans through the mail and one catches his eye. It reads “US ARMY ATTEN. DARREL CURTIS”

Darry quickly opens the letter and it reads “We regret to inform you that your brother Sodapop Patrick Curtis has been kill in action on March twenty-fifth, nineteen-seventy. His body is MIA, but we can confirm that he is dead.

Again I am sorry

Stg. Steven Grant”

Darry falls to his knees unable to move or speak. He feels deeply sorry for Soda’s son, Sandy, Steve, Two-bit and Pony.

(In Duration Order (shortest to longest))