The Outsiders - Slow Down, Darrel (Darry Curtis)

TWENTY TWO: That Would Be Enough For An Aging Man

When Tuesday afternoon rolled around, Madeline dialed the number her grandmother had given her, and listened to the phone ring.

"Hello?" A gruff voice from the other side answered.

"It's Madeline," she said back softly.

"Madeline! I'm glad to hear from you, but remember what I told you?" He sighed, "I don't like it, but those boys need you."

"Dorothy said she always went to the club on Tuesday afternoons," she explained.

"Ah, good memory," he paused for a moment, "So, any reason you called, not that I mind of course, it's great to hear from you,"  he said.

"I don't wanna lose out on a chance to know you, or for the boys to know you. Plus, our Tuesday afternoons are pretty free around here."

He chuckled happily, "Well, your grandmother usually stays at the club until five at least. Usually later. And I'd love to meet the twins. And the boy you were gushing about."

Darry smiled as he overheard the comment, and Madeline went a little pink, and wore a bashful smile, "Well, the boys leave school at two, maybe we can swing by?"

"I'd like that," he told her, and he meant it deep into his core.

•••

The truth about Henry's marriage, was that he once was truly in love with Dorothy. They were high school sweethearts, and had a baby girl who they loved more than the entire world. Henry worked his dream job, Dorothy stayed home with their daughter.

Every night, he kissed Dorothy goodnight, and they slept peacefully, in love.

Things felt perfect, until their daughter outgrew the helicopter-ish nature of her mother. During the many screaming matches, Henry tried to mediate, but Dorothy would belittle him if he joined in, but Marian looked to him for the peace he'd always exuded. He was stuck in the middle at all times. He didn't want to upset his wife, but when he looked at the hurt in his daughter's eyes, he couldn't ignore her either.

Marian had gotten pregnant very young, and was seeing a greaser boy that Dorothy absolutely disapproved of, which made everything worse, which Henry didn't think was possible

Shortly after Madeline was born, Marian left. Dorothy blamed Henry, and made sure he blamed himself too. He hated himself for letting his daughter go, and taking his granddaughter with her. Marian had never even told them her name, until the incident. He had spent many nights awake in bed, thinking about divorce and separation. But being such a respectable figure in the community, and marriage failure being so horrible, he shoved the thoughts to the very back of his mind.

When he'd come home from work to the sound of a crying baby, it almost gave him a strange burst of hope. If the baby was here, Marian was too, maybe his family didn't have to be so torn anymore. He'd found Dorothy with the baby alone in the living room, and sensed an immediate conflict.

"Who's this?" He asked gently, knowing the answer.

"Madeline," Dorothy told him.

"Where's Mari?"

"She left the baby on the door step," Dorothy told him, avoiding his eyes, "with a note," she held a folded piece of paper out to him.

Mom and Dad, please take care of my little girl, I can't anymore. Her name is Madeline. Thank you, Marian.

He sighed as he read it, but rubbed his wife's shoulder supportively. But noticed the inconsistencies in the handwriting. On every grocery list she'd ever written, his wife had drawn her 'y' with a unique twirl that mirrored 'Marian's' note.

After a while, he went on a 'walk', he walked to the police station, and filed a kidnapping report under a false name. As far as anyone ever knew, a stranger, nosy neighbor or some onlooker had filed that report, and Henry had stopped for a newspaper on his walk, and read it in the park.

Just an hour or so after returning home from his walk, a police officer arrived at the door, looking for Dorothy and baby Madeline. After some angry remarks from Dorothy, she handed Madeline over, who was returned to her mother that night. As for the charges that Henry hoped would get him away from his cruel wife, she threw around their reputation as a family, and wasn't formally charged, or even recorded for the crime.

It was many years of manipulation and cruelty that kept him with his wife and away from his daughter, and granddaughter. But he was too old to lose out on that relationship now. Too tired of his wife's hatred for the East side. Too tired of all the hatred in their town. If he could just rebuild the bridge he'd regretted letting his wife burn with his daughter, with Madeline, that would be enough for an aging man.

•••

Madeline and Darry drove to the school to pick the boys up, and, since Two-Bit had ditched and Ponyboy had no way home other than walking alone, he tagged along too.

"Madeline!" Her grandpa said heartily, and then took a step back, "My goodness, you must be Jack and Graham?"

Graham stepped back cautiously first, but not Jack, he was jumping up and down yelling "First try!" They balanced each other well.

"Boys, this is Grandpa Henry, he's momma's pop!" Madeline explained.

"Really?" Graham said, perking up, "my friends at school have grandpas, I always wanted one," he said, opening up, but not quite all the way.

Henry chuckled and looked to Darry and Ponyboy, "You must be those Curtis boys I've heard about!"

Pony was a little surprised by his warmness, expecting some backhanded kindness from someone in such a soc looking house. But he did notice that Madeline definitely got her warmness from her grandpa, even if she didn't always know him.

"You'd be right on," Darry said, extending his hand, "I'm Darrel, it's great to meet you sir."

Henry shook his hand eagerly, "Henry, good to meet you Darry," he turned to Pony, "And you've oughta be..." he thought, debating between Soda and Pony, "Ponyboy?"

"Yes sir," Pony said, shaking his hand apprehensively, but with a wide smile, "Good to meet you."

"Come on in now, make yourselves comfortable," Henry waved them in, and walked behind them.

There was a bowl of candy on the coffee table, that he offered to Graham and Jack, who more than happily accepted.

Henry showed the few baby photos of Madeline he'd gotten to take. One stuck out to Maddie. She was being held by a man with blond-ish hair and green-colored eyes, whose faced barred strangely similar features to her own. Next to him, her mother was cuddled up to him, smiling, though it looked forced.

"Hey Grandpa, who is this?" She asked, pointing to the man.

"What do you mean?" He asked, confused.

"Next to mom, holding me?"

"Madeline, that's your father," he told her, puzzled by her confusion.

Author's Note: hope you enjoyed getting a little bit of Henry's story sprinkled in, as well as Madeline's very early childhood. Plus a little bomb there at the end.