Bars weren't really my thing. Never had been, actually. I'd only downed a couple beers, but I was already itching to get out of there cause it was so damn loud and my head felt like it was gonna burst. Figured I'd stay, though. No use in coming out here if I didn't drink enough to forget. Didn't exactly know what I was trying to leave behind me. I just knew I couldn't go home until the memory was completely erased from my mind. Whatever it was. The beers kept on coming, anyway. So I drank them. Johnny always said I was too impulsive - not sure what that means, but he didn't look too happy saying it. He tried to explain. Said I just did as I pleased and never thought about the cost of my actions. I guess he'd been right cause the thought of paying for the beer hadn't bothered me yet. Didn't know how much it'd be. My math weren't all that good, specially not when I was drunk. My eyes were going blurry, the whole room spinning, by the time I got cut off. Could've gone for a couple more and I told the bartender that. He scoffed then said, "Go home, kid." And that pissed me off real bad cause nobody told Dallas Winston what to do. I stood up, knocking over the bar stool as I tried to balance on shaking legs. "Fuck off, man," I slurred. "I told ya I ain't done yet." I stretched over the bar, reaching for a bottle of whiskey on the shelf behind the scowling guy. He slapped my hand away so I hauled back and decked him. Right in the nose. God, I laughed so hard, it hurt. Or maybe the pain was just from the bartender's fist in my gut. Some blurry men grabbed my arms, dragging me out of the place. I leaned my head back and shrieked out more laughter. They tossed me to the gutter then left me. Staring after their retreating forms, I just kneeled in the dirty water - think it rained the night before. My laughter died out slowly. The joke wasn't so funny when I was alone... I pulled myself up, stumbled down the alley. Nothing was funny about what I'd gotten in to. I was just some drunk kid who hated everything worse than anyone. Drunk like my old man. Pathetic. Didn't know where I was going. Not home, though. I guess I wandered for a while, looking for a distraction. It wasn't long before somebody found me. Couldn't tell you what her name was. She was kinda old and kept calling me "Mr. Winston" like some goddamn teacher at school. I might've told her to go to hell, but she didn't listen. Then she forced something into my arms and bolted. Her heels clacked obnoxiously on the pavement. I barely heard her shouting, "Albany! Albany!" I didn't get it cause I'd never been there, so i don't know what she means by that, I've just been in New York City. How long had she been holding this thing, anyway? Was it there when she'd started talking to me? It was heavy. I was just about to throw the thing to the sidewalk, but some weird part of my mind started shouting so I held it tighter. Instinctively. Even though I knew you just didn't take gifts from strange old women that tracked you down in deserted alleyways. But I was drunk out of my mind and the alcohol was telling me to take it home. By some miracle, I found my way back to my dad's place. No one was there - the old man would be gone for days at a time so I figured he wasn't coming back for a while. I let myself in, tossed the bundle on to the couch. There was some screaming, but that was probably the neighbors. I knew the guy across the street beat his wife a lot. Guess it was just her. I shrugged. I didn't remember falling asleep, but the next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes. A familiar headache burned in my temples. Hungover again. Just as I was rolling out of bed - my dad's bed... Why wasn't I in my own? - I heard crying. And not just neighbor-across-the-street crying, but up-close-in-my-house crying. Nothing surprised me anymore, but when I walked into the living room... I think I nearly had a heart attack. There was a baby laying on the sofa, wailing helplessly. A million things ran through my mind as I stood there. Kill it. Dump it in some alley. Make it shut up. Help. The last one was unexpected... Didn't know if I wanted to help the thing or if I wanted somebody to help me. Almost laughed at that. I didn't need anyone's help. Not ever. I could take care of everything on my own. After taking a couple aspirins, I grabbed the kid and looked it over. It was fat and pink and wet with tears and its own spit. It was wrapped up in blankets, but there was something else, too. A note. I slipped it out from between two cloth folds then started reading.
Dally,
His name is Albany. I guess he's yours and I don't want him. Do whatever.
- Sylvia
I probably should've known from the start. And I really wanted to shoot myself for being so goddamn stupid. Never knock up a two-timing bitch. She'll stick you with the kid then run off with her newest toy. Fucking slut... The thing - Albany, I guess - just kept on crying. Maybe it - he - was hungry or something. I raided the fridge, but only found beer. And I searched through the cupboards for a good ten minutes before I leaned back on my heels and wondered what babies could eat. But I was all good. Didn't need nobody's help. After another five minutes of solid crying, I wanted to hit the kid. If I'd been like this, my old man hating me made sense. Shook myself out of those thoughts, though. I had to do something. I was determined to not be an asshole like I usually was. "C'mon," I mumbled to myself. "Johnny'd be real good at this. How would he...?" I sat down on the couch and grabbed the kid again. I held him at arm's length for a bit then finally pulled him closer, resting his little head on my chest. He got quiet. Good. It was kinda alright, actually, and I got to thinking that I could handle the kid just fine. Until there was a knock on the door, that is. I stood up nice and slow, setting the baby on the couch cushion, then answered, trying to look tougher than I felt. Nobody out there. I made the mistake of glancing down at the steps. Two boxes. Two more babies. Shit. Instead of listening to my gut, I pulled them inside - two girls, one named Joanna, the other Renee. The two notes that came with them were signed by different women. I didn't recognize them. I set the girls on the couch with Albany, just stared until my eyes hurt. But I could still deal with it. No one had to know about these slobbering, tiny bald monsters. Well, they weren't that bad, I guess, cause they were quiet and I could ignore them. And if they stayed that way, we wouldn't have a problem. Took about three minutes for them to conspire to drive me insane. They all started screaming and wailing at the same time. "What do you want?" I shouted, violently running my fingers through my hair. "What the hell do you want?" I knew I needed help. Hated that fact, hated myself, hated all kids but these ones especially. But I couldn't take it anymore. With all the strength I had, I snatched up the phone and dialed. "Hello?" Internally, I sighed in relief. I wasn't sure he'd even be home yet. "Hey. I need your help." "Dally?" Darry asked. "You okay? What's goin' on over there? It's kinda loud. I can hardly hear ya." "I'm fine," I said. "I just...need ya to do somethin' for me. Get here quick, alright?" "Wait a minute. I can't just-" "I'm serious, Dare," I interrupted. "If you ain't here soon, I'll just bring the problem to your place." He hung up and I didn't know if he was gonna come over or if he was just trying to call my bluff. But within twenty minutes, he burst into my living room, eyes scanning the place for whatever had me so spooked - I think he'd known throughout the whole phone call that I wasn't acting like myself. That probably scared him as much as me. Anyway, the sound of the door made the kids start screaming again and I knew Darry was shocked even before I'd seen him. He walked further into the room, looked at me in that way of his. The one that made me feel real stupid, like I was hardly older than the babies on my lap. He had nothing to say for a while, just that look. My gaze dropped. Didn't matter what happened, Darry could always make me feel ashamed... "What the hell were you thinking?" "Don't give me that shit," I said, getting over those dumb feelings and glaring at him. "I just... Tell me what to do." Darry's expression softened a bit and he picked up one of the girls - Renee, maybe. He cradled her in his arms, murmuring lovingly. "See," he said, voice gentle even though he was talking to me, "ya hold 'em like this and ya gotta talk so they don't get scared." "Like this, then." He laughed at me. I wanted to hurt him. Kept all the hate quiet, though. At least I was good at something. Unaware of my thoughts, Darry sat next to me and guided my hands to where they were supposed to be. I'd have slapped him away if I wasn't holding this living, sniffling pile of human flesh. "There, just like that," Darry said, taking the other girl from me. Guess I was focusing on just one for now. The boy. "Support the head. Now talk to him." "No." "Dallas," Darry scolded. "Talk to your son. This is what Mom did when Pony was a baby. It works, so do it." "Fine." I coughed a bit then looked down at the baby's face. "Hey...kiddo... You're real...cute or some shit like that." I looked up at Darry, almost pleading. He rolled his eyes. "Good enough. Let's feed 'em." Taking the girls, he went to the kitchen. I listened as he rummaged through everything and I knew he wasn't pleased with what I had. Couldn't move from the couch - kid was surprisingly heavy. I stared a while, searching those blank baby eyes for something...human. I couldn't find what I was looking for. The thing was strange, unearthly. What the hell? Course it wasn't weird. All babies looked like that, right? Probably. Darry didn't seem concerned. That must've been a good sign... Eventually, he came back into the living room, still carrying Renee and Joanna. Albany was getting restless. Darry set the girls down and handed me a slip of paper. "I made a list of everything you need," he said. "Thanks..." Then I had an idea. I placed the boy on the couch. "I should go get those now. Watch the kids for a bit, okay? I'll only be gone an hour." "Dal, I don't think..." Darry began. "Well, I guess I can take care of them until you come back. Be quick, though. Pony asked me to help him with a project for school so I gotta get home." I almost felt guilty. I just nodded wordlessly and walked out the door. Buck's T-bird sat in the driveway with Darry's truck parked next to it. I got into the car, sat for a second, staring at the list. Babies were so needy... Didn't matter anymore. They were someone else's problem now. My arms shook a bit as I reached out to grab the steering wheel. At the time, it seemed like such a hugely overwhelming betrayal and I wondered if he would hate me. Wasn't the first person. Wouldn't be the last. No, there would be three more at the least. Three kids who'd have to grow up without their father cause he was just a good-for-nothing hood. And if he'd stayed, they'd only have hated him worse, anyway. Darry was good. He'd be a better dad. Those kids deserved...something. Didn't know what, but I guess it had to be something real nice since both parents walked out on them and they needed somebody good to care for them. They needed love. I didn't have any. So I drove away. When I got far enough from my dad's place, I hopped out of the car and searched for a pay phone. I found one just up the street, forced a couple coins into it then dialed. "Hey, kid. Look, I'm leavin' town for a while. I gave you the number. Call if you need anything." I hung up, got back in my car, kept on driving. I lost count of how many years I'd been gone, but I'm back now. I park the T-bird in the empty driveway and walk into my house. The phone has about thirty messages on the machine. All Johnny. I shake my head as I listen. Thirty-odd messages and I'm pretty much caught up on everything that happened. Everything important, anyway. They all have kids now. Even Johnny. I'm the only one running around like I'm still seventeen. Like nothing's changed. How old am I anyway? 25? 30? I don't know... I glance at the calendar on the kitchen wall. It's on the same page as when I'd left. Eighteen years ago. God... I'm 35... The phone starts ringing again and I know who it's gonna be. But I can't stop myself from answering. I just wanna hear that voice again. "What the hell do ya want?" I answer. "Glory, Dally! Where have you been?" Johnny demands. He sounds mad. "I've been trying to call you for years and you never picked up." I think for a bit, not exactly sure how to answer. "I been a lot of places. Just comin' back now." Another pause. "How's your son?" "He's fine. Only needed a couple stitches." "Good," I say, biting down on my lower lip cause I know I'm gonna say something stupid. But I can't keep it from slipping out. "Do...umm... Do ya know what happened? To my kids, I mean." My kids. I'd never called them that before. Johnny gets real quiet. I'm not sure what he's thinking. Whether he's mad or confused or something else entirely. He says nothing for a long time and the only reason I don't hang up is cause I still hear his breathing on the other end. I try again. "Are they okay?" Finally, Johnny just explodes at me. I shrink away slightly, but not cause I'm scared or nothing. I'd just never heard Johnny talk like that before. "You missed everything! Joanna graduated last month and you didn't even bother to show up. How can you expect to...?" He trails off and his voice gets much quieter. He mumbles a 'good night' to someone on his end then turns his attention back to me. His voice doesn't raise up again. Now he's just talking. "Listen, Dal," he says, "you can't do this. You can't just barge into their lives again. As far as they're concerned, Darry's their dad. Not you. They don't love you. They don't even know you." "I don't love them." It sucks, but it's all I can think to say. Johnny snorts, probably rolling his eyes in disbelief. I want to protest. I can't cause I know he's right. I walked out and now it's too late to come back.
"Tell me about them," I say. Johnny sounds like he chokes in surprise. I'm having the same reaction deep down. Shock that I would bother asking, anger that I hadn't stuck around to see my kids - Darry's kids - grow up in the first place. Disgusted that I have to ask someone else to tell me... Again, Johnny hesitates. But then he just starts talking. Maybe eighteen years ago, he would've left it alone. Not now. "Al's like you. Last I checked, anyway. Darry doesn't talk about it...but Al is violent and tough and a liar." Just like you remains unsaid, but I still hear it. "He dropped out of school a few years ago. I think he's spending time in jail now. Not sure, though, cause he ran off on us, too." "And Joanna?" "She's a good girl," he replies, a bit of a smile in his voice. "We told her about you - well, we told them all about you, but she was the only one who understood. She was sympathetic, even. Just last week, she told Dare that she felt bad for you. If... if you're gonna come back, start with her. I think she'll be quick to forgive."
I wait for him to start talking about Renee, but he doesn't. And I don't wanna ask cause I already know it's bad and I know hearing it will hurt something fierce. "Well...thanks," I say then hang up.