I sat in the car and read the criminal file after leaving Mrs. Jones' office. The entire thing made my skin crawl. The man was fucking twisted. I wanted to shower the entire time. By the time I arrived home, both of them were sitting in the back yard talking. I could tell by the pile of cigarette butts that had collected on the ground, that they had been out there for a while. At least Pony was talking to Sodapop. Soda wasn't looking good. His face was starting to flush. It looked like I was going to have to be the bad guy again.

I stepped outside; the sun was just now setting, and it was beginning to get chilly. They both jumped a little when I stepped outside. I couldn't help but smile when they turned around. Their faces looked liked they expected to see the boogieman. "Soda you need to go lay down. You unless you liked that trip to the doctor's."

Soda punched Pony in the arm and stood up. He shot me a dirty look as he walked by. Pony shook his head at us. I guess this was kind of a good thing. "So, you talking to me yet?"

He didn't answer he took another hit from his cigarette. The smell of those things made me sick. I glanced over my shoulder to see Soda stretched out on the couch. That was a good thing; I didn't want him here for this. "Good," I said sitting down next to him. "I just need you to listen anyways."

"Look, I give you credit for wanting to help her, and for trying, but you have to understand just keeping her away from the house like that. It wasn't going to solve anything." He didn't say anything. He kept his eyes focused on the flowers that were starting to bud, and just kept puffing smoke. "Ponyboy look at me when I talk to you."

He rolled his eyes, but at least he looked me. I knew he was listening this way. "I went to try and find things out about Molly. They sent her to Alaska to live with her Grandparents."

"That's great Darry, that is wonderful, they ship her to the other side of the USA to live with people that she hardly knows. Not to mention she is always cold," He buried his face in his hands. "I can't believe this."

"Her Uncle is a sick man. He was wanted in several states for doing things to her, to other kids. He made money on the side with child porn," I said it as bluntly as I could. "He used her. And that is all she knew, that the man who loved her, and was supposed to watch out for her, was a demented, sick, and twisted, pervert. That was her normalcy. So be as mad as you want, but her sleeping on the couch wasn't going to help her for long. She had to get out. I know that somewhere deep down you knew that too."

"Why did he have to do that to her? Abuse like Johnny's that was bad enough, how could you do that to your family? You can't justify that," he said tossing his cigarette. He buried his face in his hands.

"I don't know how. I don't have that answer baby. I'll admit when I took you and Soda in. I had no clue what I was getting myself into. I don't understand any guardian could hurt his kid like that."

"There are some sick people in this world. She is safe, right?"

"Yeah, you full filled your promise, you protected her," I said.

"Then why do I feel lousy?" He asked.

"Because sometimes when you do the right thing, you sacrifice a lot, and that makes it really hard." I looped my arm around him. "It's a hard lesson to learn."

"I don't feel like I'm fourteen. I feel like I'm thirty. I just want to be a normal kid for once."

That hit me that hit me hard. The last thing I wanted was for Pony to grow up fast like I did. I pulled him tighter. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to feel like that."

"It ain't your fault," he said, and then his eyes grew wide. "Holy cow, he really did do a number on your arm! Soda needs to cut his finger nails or something."

I threw my head back and laughed. "Yeah, he screamed like a baby."

I heard the noise coming from the kitchen for the sixth time in a half hour. I threw my covers back. Whichever moron was drunk and banging things around was going to get his head kicked in.

There wasn't a drunk moron. Ponyboy was sitting at the table, with his art supplies spread out. His school books were at the end of the table stacked up, and a calendar was next to him. "Ponyboy what are you doing up? It's three o'clock." I eyed the empty Pepsi bottles sitting on the table. Great, he was probably all hopped up on sugar and caffeine now.

"Damn history project. I had to catch up on all the work from today, plus my homework. This project is due on Friday," he said flustered. "Molly isn't here to be my partner so I have to finish the rest myself.

"How much more do you have to do?" I asked putting on a pot of coffee. I guess I didn't set a very good example with the caffeine thing.

Pony picked up a stack of papers. "First we looked up all the dates of everything, then we made the actual lay out for the calendar. Then we are doing the artwork for each month and gluing it to the top part of the page. Then we are making a regular monthly calendar plus adding the dates of important Civil War stuff, and gluing that at the bottom. So far I have the first six months of artwork done. This paper has all the dates and listed for just the Civil War that we want to add. This project is going to kill me."

I looked at the paper; it was loaded with events front to back. "Alright, finish the art work. I'll start putting these where they belong." It was going to be a long night.