Notes: zomg this is it! The final chapter! As always, I apologize for the delay. Couldn't figure out where to go, but then I realize, d'oh, read the last chapter. So I kind of got something to go on.
Please read the notes on the bottom of the page!
True to his threat, Ponyboy did get them in the morning. Or, that is, he tried to.
Ponyboy had been the first to wake up that morning, used to walking up early for school. Not to mention that at Randy's house everyone woke up early. Ponyboy smiled fondly as he dug around for a bowl and flour. It was fun, living with Randy. He had really felt at home with them. But the feeling he got here, in his real home…it was different. A little painful, since Pony never really did get over his parents death. But it felt nice too. Lukewarm, almost.
Measuring out three cups of flour, he put it into the large bowl. He moved away from the bowl to the sink, putting the measuring cup into the sink and filling a half-cup of water. He added that to the bowl, as well as another cup. The used cup he also tossed into the sink, and now he mixed the water and flour, making a nice, firm dough.
Ponyboy was fairly sure his brothers had never had this before, and he wondered if they would try it. The first time Ponyboy saw it, he wasn't too keen on the idea of eating it. But then he tasted it, and oh! He was hooked for life! Now he made it weekly, and…His stomach growled. No! Stop thinking about the yummy-ness of the Russian food he was making!
Putting powder on the counter so the dough wouldn't stick to it, Ponyboy dumped his dough onto it, then frowned. They had to have a rolling pin somewhere around here, right? Frowning, Ponyboy sat on the kitchen floor, opening the nearest cabinet door and staring at the mess inside. How could Darry or Soda manage to cook anything with this mess! It was horrible! But…the yummy meal came first!
Getting a pan out while looking for the rolling pin, he sighed. If he were to make his beloved meal weekly, he would have to organize this kitchen. Way too messy. But…guh. He sounded like a girl! With the cleaning of the kitchen and the obsessing of the meal! Seeing a wooden handle thing, Ponyboy dug for it, grabbing it and revealing the rolling pin. He stood up, picking up the pan and putting that on the stove.
Now was the time for Ponyboy to use his arm muscles - he floured the rolling pin and then smoothed out the ball of dough until it was flat, but not so flat it would tear. Finally getting it flat, Ponyboy got out a knife and sliced the dough into strips, and then into squares. With the amount he was making, he'd probably be able to have the meal for a couple of days. Yum…
Leaving the dough once more, Ponyboy went to the refrigerator and got out butter, the little remain of onion they had left, as well as the leftover potatoes they had from supper last night.
He brought the stuff over to where he was working, putting butter and some of the chopped onions into the pan. He turned it on so the butter would melt, then went to work putting potatoes in the center of the dough squares. He would pinch the sides together, then added them to the pan where the butter was now sizzling. He continued on like that, adding potatoes and pinching the dough together, then adding the finished ones to the pan and removing the ones that were done. He cooked about half of them, saving the rest to be eaten later. The ones he had made though would be enough to fill up Darry and Soda - if they ate them. If not, Pony was sure he could give them to Two-Bit or one of the guys who would surely come over…
"'ey…I smell something good…" Soda mumbled as he entered the kitchen, nearly walking into the wall. "'chu makin'?"
"Piroghi!" Ponyboy chirped as he got the uncooked ones on a plate and put them in the fridge. He got the plate of cooked ones and, grabbing some forks and a couple of other plates, put them on the table. Spearing one of the dumplings in the center, he put it on a plate, leaving the other two had had grabbed at the spot where Darry usually sat.
"Piroghi," Ponyboy said, taking a bite. He chewed on it thoughtfully and swallowed, reaching for the salt and sprinkling it on the piroghi. "it's a Russian dumpling."
Soda sat down across from Ponyboy, grabbing a plate and a fork and spearing a piroghi as well. He bit into it, face expressionless, until he started chewing and tasted it. And then it seemed like a switch had been flicked on, and he was wide awake, devouring the Russian dumpling and spearing a couple more. Ponyboy, who was on his second, pouted.
"Aww. Don't tell me you like it!" Ponyboy whined, "I wanted to eat them for myself!"
Which was partially the truth - the whole point of making the piroghi was for Darry and Soda NOT to eat them. But then again, these were his brothers…they would eat anything. Ponyboy mentally cursed himself for forgetting that.
"You? Eat all of those? Unlikely," Darry said from behind Ponyboy, poking him the side and causing his younger brother to squeak. Darry plopped down in his chair, scooping some piroghi onto his plate. He too added salt before taking a bite into it, closing his eyes.
"I didn't know you could cook," Darry teased, "Before, you couldn't even manage making cereal!"
Ponyboy pouted more, seeking comfort in his food. "Ya, well, I picked some skills up…"
Darry and Soda laughed, and soon Ponyboy joined in too, their laughter carrying through the house and through Tucson in the early hours of the morning.
Notes: And there it is. The end. I'm sorry the whole chapter is Pony making piroghi - but its really good! I like piroghi. If you haven't had it, go beg someone to make it for you.
I liked writing Runaway. It was fun, if hard to plan out. But I've learned from it - and next story I right, I will plan it. Which brings me to my next point - my next story. I will write another one, but I don't know what kind. If you review, would you mind telling me what you'd like to see?