(There are several reposts so this may or may not be posted by the og creator)
The first time I was arrested, I was ten. I used to live in New York, mostly hanging around with a couple different gangs. I never really liked my friends there much. They usually treated me like some sort of sensitive little baby, which is probably why I learned to toughen up. Once you were tough, nothing can touch you. Three years living in the streets of New York and you can pick up a lot. My first time being arrested, I was caught stealing from a store, a pack of cigs or whatever. I remember being scared shitless, and it was around then when I decided I would never be scared again.
After three years of fighting and being arrested and fighting again, I finally convinced my old man to move to a town in Oklahoma. Tulsa. I don’t really know why I did it, I think I just wanted to start over. I try real hard to never look back on when I was ten, ‘cause I tend to remember how soft I was, and that always made me a little mad at myself. I never really liked kids anyway.
Lots of years passed since then. I had just got out of jail early— I had tried to behave well– and I was looking forward to getting back to my gang in Tulsa. Things work a lot differently here– in New York, there’s gangs everywhere, rivalries, organized fights and stuff like that. Here in Tulsa, there’s only two main categories, Socs and Greasers. The Socs, short for Socials, are the rich kids, living on the West Side. I’m a Greaser, a East-side hood, working class. If you’re not too careful, a Soc gang will just come up and jump you. But hey, I’m okay with that, fights are my specialty anyway. A lot of things are my specialty now that I think about it. I lie, steal, jump kids, and cheat in just about everything except rodeos. I just don’t think it right to cheat in rodeos for some reason.
Anyway, in New York, fights were scheduled pretty much every day, but here you just gotta be ready to take a beating whenever, wherever. Nothing’s scheduled here except for the occasional rumble. No matter how much you beat the Socs though, nothing’s ever gonna change. They’ll stay in their fancy cars and we’ll stay poor. It’s not anyone's fault for that, so the only thing I had to be mad at was the world. We’re definitely separated by more than just money, though. They like to jump greasers and throw parties just for fun, but we’re wild, stealing, running around, starting random fights. I personally enjoy it.
So there I was, walking in the general direction of the gang’s usual hangout. This gang treated me better. At least here I got some respect. I don’t know, maybe that’s because they never saw me as a kid, scared and weak. It was a nice day outside— I appreciate nice days— late in the afternoon, real sunny, but a breeze could be felt. I was strolling along, kicking rocks and occasionally whistling at a girl, when I heard a scream that seemed familiar to me, although I couldn’t place it. At first, I thought it was Johnny again, and a sinking feeling started in my stomach. I realized soon enough that it wasn’t him, but someone else in my gang.
“Stupid kid…” I muttered, my walk breaking into a run. I scaled a chain link fence, rounding a corner. I saw a gang of socs, maybe four or five of them, pinning a smaller boy to the floor. Looking at him, I remembered Johnny, bruised and cut, crying on the ground. My fists clenched at my sides, but before I could beat their asses, they suddenly stumbled off of him. I turned to see what had startled them so badly. I grinned when I saw the gang. The first guy I saw was Two-Bit Matthews.
Two-Bit was actually the oldest out of us, besides Darry. Every time you looked at the guy, he would have a wide, stupid-looking grin on his face that you could glance at and assess him perfectly, no matter if you knew him or not. He never took anything seriously, always teasing the cops or making wisecracks every five seconds. You couldn’t get that guy to shut up, and believe me, I’ve tried. Two-Bit was a junior in school at 18, and unsurprisingly doesn’t take school very seriously either. He told me he liked school, but I could never figure out why.
Two-Bit’s prized possession is his 10-inch switchblade, which he kept in perfect condition, treating it like a baby. It was a stupid concept. Even though he showed the blade to everyone, he had never used it, I don’t think. He had gotten it from shoplifting from a hardware store. From what I had heard, he had walked around the place for two hours straight. Shoplifting was Two-Bit’s real talent. I never really liked him much, but he was part of the gang, so I had taken a couple falls for him before to save his ass. One time he had busted some of the windows at school, I had told the fuzz it was me and they took me to the cooler right then and there. I wasn’t scared of being arrested. Not anymore.
Two-Bit ran past me, chasing the Socs back into their red Corvair. Not too far behind him was Steve Randle.
The thing about Steve was you could never tell what he was thinking. Steve was seventeen, like me, tall and fit. Tough. He would call someone’s name and I could see them tense, rightfully so, because he would either crack a joke to make ‘em laugh or beat the living shit out of them. Steve had brains, but at the same time, he was an idiot. He was definitely not book smart— he was a dropout like me and a lot of other greasers—but he worked full-time at the local DX and knew cars like the back of his hand. I think that's all there is to him, though, besides the fact that he's Sodapop's best friend. More on him in a sec. Steve and Two-Bit started shoving the socs inside the car, followed closely behind by Sodapop Curtis.
Sodapop was the middle brother of the three Curtises, almost seventeen and the handsomest. He worked with Steve at the DX, and I swear, every time I visit, there's broads swarming the place, some of them Soc girls. He could make anyone smile by just looking at them whether you were smitten or not. I think it's the eyes. Sodapop’s eyes were soft and intense at the same time, full of stars and rainbows and shit. He understood, or at least tried to understand, everyone. He was sensitive too, he could cry real easily, and for some bizarre reason ladies loved it. I’d never admit it out loud, but I hated him. It wasn't fair, none of it. I hated him, I really did, but no one would understand if I told them about it. What was there to hate anyways? Soda’s perfect. And I'm far from that. Soda had dropped out of school like me, because he’s dumb, which made me feel a little bit better.
The Socs scrambled into their car, shouting. I looked over at the kid on the floor, and a muscular, tall guy was kneeling next to him. There he was.
Darrel Curtis was the oldest Curtis brother. Ever since their parents died a few months ago, he had been taking care of his two kid brothers. He worked two jobs, one of them roofing, the other I really shouldn’t say. I kind of looked up to him, and I didn't look up to anyone. It had to be really hard, fully grown and taking care of two kids at twenty. I knew one thing for sure, Darry had grown up too fast. I don’t know about me, though. I had grown up at an early age too, but not in the way Darry did. He was responsible and level-headed, and I knew I sure as hell wasn’t. I was a criminal. The fuzz has a record of me a mile long, but I really couldn’t care less, in fact, I focus on lengthening it further. Life’s too short to just be alive— you gotta live. And the thing was, Darry had been so close to making it out of Tulsa. He had an athletic scholarship or something, and yet, he chose to stay, all because of his two brothers. I don’t think I’ll ever understand that, I never get why people make sacrifices. The only life you’re living is your own, who gives a hoot what happens to other people? I guess that was the reason I didn’t think twice when beating the living daylights out of a guy or yelling something crude to a girl walking by.
I ran over to the car and slugged a Soc in the face. I felt his nose crack under my fist, and it was a sick, satisfying thing. The Corvette started to drive away, so I gave the door a good kick. I ran and grabbed a stick and threw it at them. It missed the car by about five feet. Not my proudest moment. Soda ran past me to the kid on the floor, comforting him in a low voice. I watched him, craning my neck to see who it was. Yeah. That scream was his, alright.
Ponyboy Curtis. The youngest Curtis brother. Man, that kid was something. I could never wrap my head around him, no matter how hard I tried to. He was fourteen, the youngest of the whole gang but the smartest by miles. Pony had skipped a whole grade and was in high school, advanced classes and all. Not like me, who gladly dropped out. I had never been smart. It was practically impossible to get his attention, because he was always staring off into the distance at god-knows-what. Even though the kid was smart, he never stopped to think, if that makes sense. Ponyboy was naive, definitely not tough. He liked mushy stuff, like sunsets and poetry, and watched movies and read books. Me, I don’t read a lot. I used to read plenty in New York but now I don’t have time for any of that crap. Ponyboy had a complicated relationship with Darry, they were always arguing about one thing or the other. I don’t think Ponyboy knows that Darry loves him, because he has a funny way of showing it. I got along fine with Pony, or at least I hoped I did, sometimes I think he’s a little scared of me. He was close with Johnny though, so I figured he was a good kid. At least he knew to keep his mouth shut.
I watched the car leave, cursing under my breath. Two-Bit and Steve were laughing and slugging each other on the arm. I lit a cigarette , following the retreating figures of the Curtis brothers. Pony and Darry were fighting as usual. I wondered what it was like for Sodapop, being torn between his brothers. I took a drag from the cancer stick, looking around. I still hadn’t seen the person I had been missing the most. As I rounded the corner, I finally saw him sitting on a bench, hunched over.
Sometimes I feel like Johnny Cade is the only thing I really care about. He’s sixteen, older than Pony, but everyone treats him like he’s the youngest. He’s always slouching— not like some of us slouch, like hoods— but he slouched nervously, hands in pockets, big dark eyes darting around. It seemed real familiar to me. Despite his sensitive looks, it took a lot to make Johnny cry. His parents treated him like dirt, he would meet us at the lot for a hangout and be covered in bruises. Good god, it made me mad, but I knew there wasn’t anything I could do about it, which just made me madder. The only time I had seen him cry was when he got jumped.
A few months ago we were walking back from the DX and passed a field where we hung out sometimes when I heard Steve let out a strangled gasp. I looked over. He was holding Johnny's blue-jean-jacket, and the color was gone from his face. I felt my mouth go dry. My ears pricked up at a small groan coming from the far side of the field. Johnny was laying on the ground, his clothes stained with blood. I ran towards him, and to this day I'm still ashamed I didn't reach him first. No, of course it was Sodapop instead. I followed close behind him, and saw his face when Soda turned him over. It was banged up bad, gashes and bruises everywhere. For a second I thought he was dead. I had seen a lot worse during my time in New York— there, people get killed every day— but seeing Johnny like this… I cursed and had to turn away to stop myself from being sick.
“Sodapop…?” He had said, his voice real weak and small. It should have been my name he was saying instead, but I couldn't bring myself to look at him.
“Yeah, it's me,” I had heard Soda say. “Don't talk, you're gonna be okay.” Johnny ignored him and I could hear him choke out something along the lines of:
“There was a whole car full of ‘em,” his voice shook. “A blue mustang.” Then he started crying. Johnny had never cried in front of any of us before, and I groaned and forced myself to turn back around. Steve and Soda were kneeling beside him, while Ponyboy stood back with Two-Bit. Darry stood over Johnny, a grim expression on his face. Johnny was laying down, hugging his knees and sobbing. I felt a sudden tightening in my chest. I was a lot like Johnny in the sense that seeing me cry was rare. I had never cried since I was first arrested in New York, unless you count the time, a few weeks later, when I was in jail, reading some book. Little Women or something and I cried a little bit. I convinced myself it didn't count– I was high off my ass at the time anyways.
I pulled myself together and swallowed down the tears. Johnny laid there for a bit, shaking tearfully while Soda patted his back. I was wishing I had kneeled too, but I hung back and watched them. Eventually, Johnny choked out the story. A blue Mustang had pulled up when he was kicking a football, four Socs. His face was cut up because one of them had on a ton of rings. As I listened, I felt a need to protect him. After that, Johnny had carried a six-inch switchblade with him. I didn't think he'd ever actually use it.
I walked over to the bench, offering my hand. “Hey, Johnnycake.” I pulled him up.
“Oh hey, Dal.” He stood, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He didn’t smile or anything, but that didn’t disappoint me much. He rarely smiled anyway. We walked a little bit behind the rest of the gang, heading to the Curtis household. It amazed me, kind of, how Darry was able to keep that house together. After all, he barely had custody over Pony and Soda as it was. The Curtis house was a regular hangout spot for the gang.
I squinted when the sun hit my eyes. Pony had told me once that people with light eyes are more sensitive to light than people with dark eyes. Well, that was just swell. I could feel the rays shine on my hair, which wasn’t great, my hair was light enough as it was, and long too, down past my ears. But that wasn’t too unusual, us greasers are kind of known for their long hair. I never really cared about how I looked as long as I looked tuff, and now that I think about it, I didn't pay a lot of attention to how anyone looked.
I leaned on a beat-up car, taking a long drag from the cigarette. Eventually Darry got fed up and headed inside. If I squinted I could see that Pony had a good cut on his neck.
“The kid okay?” I asked, pushing off the car and strolling over. Ponyboy looked at me.
“I'm okay. I didn't know you were out the cooler yet, Dally.” I lit a cigarette and gave it to Johnny.
“Yeah, man, got off early. Good behavior or something.” I saw some of the color returning to his face. Two-Bit was complimenting Pony on his bruise, said it looked tough. I was glad that Pony was getting tougher. I didn’t want him to have to go through some of the stuff I had had to do in New York. Steve nudged past me, holding his nose which was nice and bloodied.
"What were you thinkin’, walkin' by your lonesome? Huh?" I got the feeling Steve never really liked Ponyboy much, like he thought of him as some annoying kid who just hung around. Pony shrugged nonchalantly. “None of your business.” I grinned. I knew he was getting under old Steve’s skin.
“What do you mean it’s none of my business!?” Soda had to hold Steve back to keep him from killing Ponyboy right then and there. “It is my business, look at my nose!” I muttered at him to leave the kid alone until Ponyboy spoke up.
“It’s huge.” I had to bite the inside of my mouth to keep from cracking up. He had a point. Steve muttered something to himself. I patted him on the back. Johnny was walking past us so I walked right after him. “Hey Johnny, man, how you doin’? Those guys are the same ones who got you?”
“No,” Johnny said, kicking some dirt off the ground. “It was a blue Mustang.” I could tell he was a little shaken, so I caught up to him, crushing the cigarette butt under my shoe. “Look, man, now that I’m out I’ll make it business to mess up whoever did that to your face.” I nodded at the scar that Johnny had got from the jump. “Hey, I’m walkin’ over to the Nightly Double tomorrow night. Anyone up to hunt some action?” I was hoping that Johnny would want to come with— I had to catch up with him. Steve shook his head.
"Me and Soda are pickin' up Evie and Sandy for the game." He looked pointedly at Ponyboy when he said this. Wow Steve. Real Subtle. Ponyboy nudged Johnny. “Me and Johnnycake’ll come.” I nodded. Steve patted Soda on the back and climbed on top of one of the cars parked nearby. He did a backflip off of it, stumbling away. Man, that guy was random. Two-Bit climbed into his own wreck of a car, asking Pony and Johnny to give it a push to start it up. I watched them, waving to Soda who ran inside.
“See you guys later!” Two-Bit said, driving off. That left me, Pony and Johnny the only ones left there, so I figured that was my cue to head home. I opened the cyclone fence, stepping out. Pony and Johnny walked back. Johnny nodded at my hand. “Hey, you got your ring back, Dal. You break up with Sylvia again?” I shut the fence behind me, leaning on it.
“Little broad was two-timing me again when I was in jail, man,” I shrugged, grinning. “It’s cool. See you later.” I pushed off the fence, walking away. It really was cool— I never cared for Sylvia much— or any broad I had been with for that matter. I pulled out another cigarette, lighting it. The shadows on the street were long. Everything was bathed in a gold kind of glow. I knew one thing for sure, I wasn’t in any hurry to get home to my old man. At least he didn’t hit me like Johnny’s hit him, but he wouldn’t even look at me if I showed up on his doorstep with my arm cut off. I don’t know what made me do it, but I headed to the park. No one was ever around the park this late, maybe a few couples, but that was it. I pulled myself onto the top of one of the structures and it gave me a pretty good view of the sunset. My mom had always liked sunsets when she was alive but I never really got why. I mean sure they were pretty enough, but I didn’t get the point of going out of your way to watch them. When she was alive, she used to make me sit with her while there was a sunset.
I stared at the sun. The sky was turning all kinds of different oranges. I don’t know what kind of mood I was in that day, but I decided then that I hated sunsets. I hated them because no matter what happened, the sky would always just go dark again. Maybe I was high. I hopped off the structure, trying hard not to look back at the sun. It was a lot like me. Maybe when I was in New York, I had been a sunset. If that was the case, the sun was gone now. I slashed Tim Shepard's tires on the way home.
It was dark when I finally got to my house. I found my old man like I expected to find him, passed out on the couch, an empty beer bottle hanging from his fingers. I muttered to myself and headed to my room, which was only big enough to fit a tattered old bed. Sleep came easy that night.
By the time I woke up the sun was already full in the sky. I spent the afternoon bumming around the streets like usual— I wasn’t supposed to meet Ponyboy and Johnny until around 5:00— so most of my day was spent watching fights and stealing stuff. I busted my blade trying to carve something into a phone booth. I waited for them under a street light at a corner.
“Hey, what’s goin’ on, Dal?” I saw Johnny first, Pony was behind him. I lit a cigarette.
“You’re early.” Ponyboy shrugged and put his hands in his pockets.
“What do you wanna do?” He asked. I thought for a second, pushing off the street light. I turned toward them, starting to walk backwards.
“I dunno. Nothing legal, man,” I grinned. “Let’s get outta here.” And we were off. We did pretty much what I had been doing all day. We went to a diner and blew straws at waitresses until they got fed up and kicked us out. We watched a fight and left when the cops pulled up. There was one point where we were walking around a few kids playing cards on the grass. Stupid kids.
“Hey, did I say you guys could play in my grass?” They didn’t respond. “What? Hey, don’t get- don’t get wise. I don’t like little kids, I don’t like ‘em, I just-” I shrugged. We chased them across the field for a bit.
Pretty soon it was already dark and we were good and ready to head to the Drive-in theater. It was cheap, only a quarter if you didn’t have a car, but there’s no fun in that so we snuck in through the back. There were a few rows of seats in front of the concessions stand that no one was at except a couple of broads in the front row. They were dressed real nice, and me being experienced I could tell they were Soc girls. There was a little brunette and a redhead. There’s a difference between gingers and redheads. Gingers had orangy, almost yellow hair, while redheads’ hair were a deeper shade, almost maroon. I knew I didn’t have a chance with either of them, them being Socs and all, so I figured I might as well see how much I could embarrass ‘em.
I slid right behind the redhead. I could tell Ponyboy and Johnny didn’t care for some of the stuff I would say to girls, but they sat down anyways. I nudged Pony, speaking loud enough for the girls to hear.
“Some cute redhead, huh?” When she didn’t respond I leaned real close to her, taking some of her hair between my fingers. “Are you a… real redhead?” The cigarette smoke got right in her face, and I fought hard not to crack up. She started chewing hard on her gum. I sat back again and said something smart like: “Are you real?” Oh yeah. Real smooth, Dal. I got up close to her ear and said some stuff that I’m not sure I can put on here. I don’t know who’s reading this. Anyway, I didn’t get much of a reaction so I sat back and put my feet on the back of her chair. The redhead turned around. She was a looker.
“Boy, take your feet off my chair and shut your trap.” I raised an eyebrow. I knew the type. Entitled. Didn’t anyone have any respect around here?
“Who’s gonna make me, huh?” I grinned. Yeah, this was a good one. I was getting some decent kicks out of this.
“You better leave us alone,” She said, irritated. “Or I’ll call the cops.” I wanted to laugh. I sat back and yawned.
“Oh my, my. You’ve got me scared to death,” I elbowed Pony, who didn’t look too happy with me. Johnny left fast to get a coke. Smart kid. “You should see my record sometime, baby. Guess what I’ve been in for?” It was true. My police record could take up several books and somehow just kept getting longer.
“Leave us alone,” she said “Be nice and leave us alone.” I scoffed, taking my feet off her chair. So far the brunette had kept her mouth shut. Cool. She was smart.
“I’m never nice,” I leaned forward. “Can I interest you lovely ladies in a Coca-Cola or a Seven-Up?” I looked at her expression. There we go. I could practically see her brain explode. I had messed with enough people to know that everyone had a breaking point, and this Soc girl had most definitely reached hers.
“Get lost, hood!” I shot her a little sarcastic smile and shrugged. I stood up and strolled off. I needed a Coke, so I headed to the concessions stand. I passed Johnny on the way there. I nudged him with my shoulder.
“Hey, man,” He just kind of looked at me funny. I thought it was best not to ask what was bugging him. He always had something bugging him anyway. Cokes were a nickel and I had a nickel and a dime in my pocket so I figured I might as well buy the Soc girls Cokes regardless if they had said yes or not. Plus, it might get a good reaction out of them. I took three Cokes with me and headed back to the seats. I noticed Pony was talking to the redhead. Well damn. Maybe the kid had some guts. I handed the brunette her coke first— just to see what happened. I wasn’t very surprised when she took it. I sat down next to the redhead and handed her a coke.
“This might cool you off.” She looked at it incredulously. Her eyes darted from me to the coke. I knew that look a little too well, I got it often. She threw the coke in my face, which, I admit, was a little irritating, but nothing I hadn’t handled before. I wiped my face on my sleeve and decided to keep going.
“Fiery, huh? Well, that’s the way I like ‘em,” I started to slip my arm around her, but I felt a hand push me back. I looked up. It was Johnny.
“Leave her alone, Dally.” I looked at him in disbelief. Johnny didn’t have the guts to scare a cat. I was caught off guard, something in me bubbled up.
“What did you say?” I wiped my face again. “What did you say to me, you little shit?” The words went out of my mouth before I could stop them. Johnny turned a bit pale and swallowed hard.
“You heard me,” His voice was shaky, like it had been after he got jumped. “Leave her alone.” I glared at him. If it was anyone but Johnny, I would have killed them right then and there and hung their body from a bridge. But I couldn’t do that. Not to Johnny. I scoffed at him, then stood up and walked off, fists in pockets and a scowl on my face. I decided I wasn’t going back. There was a party at Buck Merril’s place that I figured I would go to. Buck was my partner at rodeos. I felt obligated to like him, but if he wasn’t my buddy I would have thought he was gross.
I tried to block out the events of the evening as I walked, focusing on what I would do once I got there. I wasn’t in the mood to pick up any more broads, so I decided I would just spend the night there. At least Buck had a decent bed. The sticky Coke made my face really cold. So I was walking, thinking, and then someone stepped in front of me. I looked up lazily. It was Tim Shepard.
Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you about him. He was a grease too, but not in our gang. He was part of one called the Shepard gang. Creative name, huh? We were close enough buddies. Tim was eighteen and reminded me a bit of a lizard. He liked being a hood. Lots of people think I like being a hood— I like to think it’s because I take it in style— but I don’t. I’m not opposed to being a greaser, I’m just fine with it.
“Hey, Tim,” I nodded. “Having a nice day?” Tim scoffed, stomping on his cigarette butt.
“You slash my tires, Dal?” I remembered when I had watched the sunset, gotten mad and slashed his tires. He looked real mad. I rubbed my face.
“Look, man, I’m not in the mood. You know I’d beat your ass if you tried, anyways.” Tim stepped forward. He shook his head, scowling.
“Hey look, I know it was you who slashed my tires,” He pointed a finger at me. Even if we did fight that night, we were still gonna be buddies. That’s just how things worked.
“Oh yeah? You got any evidence? Where’s your lawyer?” Tim grinned, and I knew he was done arguing. I stepped forward, patting his shoulder.
“Have a good night, man.” I walked past him, waving. I arrived at Buck’s a few minutes later. It wasn’t too far away. I didn’t bother knocking, just walked right in. The music was loud and crappy, and the people were too. Buck was talking to some broad that didn’t seem too interested, and I didn’t blame her. I tapped him on the shoulder, leaning forward and grinning.
“Hey man, I’m gonna use one of the bedrooms, okay? If anyone asks, I’m busy,” The girl took the opportunity to hightail it outta there and Buck just grinned and nodded.
“Will do. See you, Dal.” I headed up the stairs and the music got fainter, thank god. There was a dog upstairs for some reason. Maybe it was Buck’s. I gave it a quick pat and headed into one of the bedrooms. I knew all of them well, I had spent plenty of time at Buck’s. The bed called to me, so I threw off my jacket and shirt and flopped on the bed, not bothering to close the door. I felt my mind drift away.
I woke to Buck shaking me. I groaned and nearly rolled out of the bed.
“What is wrong with you, man…?” I sat up, rubbing my eyes. Buck just shrugged, turning to leave.
“Sorry. There's two little guys here to see you. Johnny and… Horse boy or something…” He walked out. I stood, and headed after him. What did they need? I made my way to the front door and opened it. Johnny looked up at me. He was shaking, but somehow not from the cold. Ponyboy was behind him. I think he was shaking with the cold.
“Okay, kids, what do you need me for?” Johnny leaned against the doorframe, looking sick. Ponyboy spoke, his voice trembling.
“Johnny killed a Soc,” I grinned. Maybe the kid was tougher than I thought. Even I had never killed anyone, well, not on my own. Johnny nodded.
“After you left, Two-Bit came and started talking to Marcia, the brunette. The redhead’s name is Cherry Valance, and they told us why they had been without a car. Their boyfriends had gotten drunk so they left and when the movie was done we were walking them home when a blue Mustang pulled up, and their boyfriends were in it. They were real mad at them for being with us, and so they went with them. Pony and I fell asleep in the lot, and Darry got worried when Pony was home late and slapped him. So Pony ran away, and he took me, too. We was cutting through the park when the blue Mustang pulled up. Their boyfriends stepped out and… and one of them was the guy with the rings. The one who jumped me… and he started drowning Pony in the fountain and I had my switch with me… and…” His voice trailed off. I nodded.
“Good for you, man, I guess I don’t have to take care of him anyways.” I took a good look at Ponyboy. “Ponyboy, are you wet?” He stammered out a yes. Oh brother. I opened the screen door.
“Get in, come on,” I dragged them up the stairs. “You’ll die of pneumonia ‘fore the cops ever get you.” I headed inside the bedroom and sat poor Ponyboy on the bed. I rummaged through some of the drawers.
“Hey stupid, get that sweatshirt off, will you, man?” I tossed him a towel. Johnny was pacing around, muttering to himself. I pulled a gun out of the drawer and managed to scrape together fifty bucks. I handed Ponyboy the money along with a flannel around five sizes too big for him.
“Here,” I handed Johnny the gun. “Oh jeez, kid, don’t point that thing at me, it’s loaded.” I sat down on the bed next to Pony, who at least looked a little drier now. I paused as something occurred to me. “Hey Pony, do Soda and Darry know about this?” Pony shook his head and I sighed. I knew I would have to be the one to break the news and Darry already didn’t like me much. “I’m not looking forward to telling Darrel and get my head busted,” Ponyboy shifted.
“Then don’t tell him.” I scoffed at that. Darry would kill me for sure if I never told him what had happened to Pony. I thought for a minute. They would have to run. I remembered my cousin, who lived in the country, giving me directions to a place I could hide if I was ever in trouble. I picked up my beat-up leather jacket that had been tossed on the floor and handed it to Ponyboy.
“Take it, Pony. It's cold where you two are going.” I pulled Johnny down to our level, speaking softly.
“Alright listen, I'm only gonna say this once. Hop the three-fifteen freight to Windrixville, there's an old abandoned church on top of Jay Mountain. There's a pump out back so don't worry about water. Buy a week's supply of food as soon as you get there, before the story gets out, and then don't so much as stick your noses out the door. I'll be up there as soon as I think it's clear.” I sighed. “Man, I thought New York was the only place I could get mixed up in a murder rap.” Johnny made a little whimper when I said that last part and I thought it wise to not mention murder again. I walked them back to the front door.
“Get going!” I messed up Johnny’s hair and spoke softly. “Take care, kid.” I watched them run into the darkness. As I headed back upstairs I couldn’t help but worry for them, both of them. They were probably the least tough out of the whole gang, and as far as I knew they hadn’t been too far from home before.
I was taken in to the police station the next day. I had been walking down the street, and I had decided I wouldn’t tell Darry or Soda that I had ever seen Ponyboy. All of a sudden, the cops pulled up and took me in for questioning. I don’t blame them for assuming I had something to do with the dead Soc. Pony and Johnny’s descriptions were already in the paper, and the fuzz knew they were my buddies. So I told them they ran to Texas, and luckily, they bought it. The next few days were tense. Greasers started getting jumped by Socs every day. I had to start carrying a heater wherever I went. It wasn’t loaded, it was mostly for scaring them away.
They had scheduled a rumble with us. One day me and Darry found Two-Bit holding off three Socs, and we helped him out. That night the gang was hanging around the lot with Tim Shepard and some of his gang when a little sting ray pulled up. I was surprised when the girl who stepped out was Cherry.
“Look who it is,” Tim said. “You the dead kid’s girl?” Looking around I could see some of us, especially Tim’s gang, getting that glint in their eyes. It was funny. Usually I had that glint. I’m all for jumping people, but for some reason something told me not to. Two-Bit stepped forward.
“Easy, guys,” He said, eyeing us. “Let’s hear what she has to say.” Cherry was holding her bag real tight. It was real brave of her to try something like this.
“I feel awful,” She said, and she really sounded like she did. “This is all my fault.” I silently agreed with her, I knew it was. She kept on talking. “I’ll come back and tell you all what they’re planning for the rumble. I can testify that my boyfriend was drunk and looking for a fight, and everything Johnny did was out of self-defense.” She looked as if she might cry.
“Well, damn,” Two-Bit muttered. “Thanks, I guess.” She only nodded. I stepped forward.
“Hey, baby, I can take you to the Dingo for a Coke if you’re up for it.” She looked at me with the same expression on her face as when she threw her drink at me.
“No, thanks,” She replied, getting in her car. “Go to hell.” She drove off. I watched her go, grinning. Good thing she still had some attitude in her.
Darry and Soda weren’t doing too good, especially Darry. Every time I saw him I had to keep a good distance. He was always cussing, looking real worried and nervous, and so did Soda and he never cussed.
The day after Cherry had confronted us I was smoking, watching people walk by when I heard his voice.
“Dal!” I turned and Sodapop was running toward me. I only had enough time to turn, because he basically shoved me against the wall. I had never seen him so mad. He was holding Pony’s sweatshirt. Oh. Oh no. “Dally, you sick fuck! How come you didn’t-” He pulled away, running a hand through his hair. He held up the sweatshirt.
“Hey, I found this at Bucks. He told me you were there that night! Dallas, tell me where he is!” He looked genuinely distressed. I considered telling him but only shook my head.
“I don’t know, Soda.” It was a weak response, and I could tell he wasn’t buying. He stepped back, kicking a fire hydrant.
“Dal, I’m gonna write him a letter, and you better deliver it, you hear me? Huh?” I didn’t usually let people tell me what to do, but I had promised them I’d go and find them anyway so I agreed. For the first time since I met him, I didn’t hate Sodapop. He was just a guy worried for his kid brother, like I was worried for Johnny. I understood. I sat there next to Soda while he wrote, sipping a coke. I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t know he could write. I took the letter from him.
First thing in the morning, I headed over to Buck’s so I could borrow his car. It was still dark when I took his keys and headed East. I had always been a reckless driver. It was a miracle that I had never crashed before, and I’d never gotten pulled over, either. The cop cars could never catch me. The first rays of light settled on the horizon. I decided I liked how the sun rose. I liked the way the light could take away the darkness, rising higher and higher. I liked sunrises more than sunsets. The way there, I read the letter, driving one-handed.
Ponyboy,
Well I guess you got into some trouble, huh? Darry and me nearly went nuts when you ran out like that. Darry is awful sorry he hit you. You know he didn't mean it. And then you and Johnny turned up mising and what with that dead kid in the park and Dally getting hauled into the station, well it scared us something awful. The police came by to question us and we told them as much as we could. I can't believe little old Johnny could kill somebody. I know Dally knows where you are, but you know him. He keeps his trap shut and won't tell me nothing. Darry hasn't got the slightest notion where you're at and it is nearly killing him. I wish you'd come back and turn your selfves in but I guess you can't since Johnny might get hurt. You sure are famous. You got a paragraph in the newspaper even. Take care and say hi to Johnny for us.
Sodapop Curtis
Whoa. He should fix that spelling.
It was fully light by the time I reached the church. It was old, alright. It looked like it might collapse at any moment, and I assumed it was crawling with spiders. I shuddered. I hated spiders. I tried to remember the last time I had been to church. I was never big on religion.
I peeked in through a hole in the dusty wooded walls of the church and could make out two small figures asleep on the pews. A part of me wanted to laugh in relief. I found the entrance and stepped inside, careful not to walk into any spiderwebs. I saw Ponyboy first. The first thing I noticed was his hair. It was shorter now, shorter than it had been, but it was blond. Almost as blond as mine. Johnny’s hair was a little shorter, too. They both looked real skinny. I leaned over Ponyboy’s face, prodding his hair.
“Hey sleeping beauty, you sure look different with your hair like that.” Ponyboy sat up, grinning.
“Hey, Dally!” It was weird. I had never seen him this happy to see me ever. They must be real bad off. Johnny stirred too, propping himself up. He groaned. I rummaged in my pockets, trying to find a cigarette.
“Hey, you got a cancer stick, Johnnycake?” He tossed me a whole pack. "The fuzz won't be lookin' for you around here. They think you've lit out for Texas. I've got Buck's T-bird parked down the road a little way.” I took a good look at the both of them. “ain't you been eatin' anything? You're both pale and you've lost weight. After this, get out
in the sun more. You look like you've been through the mill." It was true. If I didn’t know better I would have thought they were corpses. I remembered Sodapop’s letter and reached in my pockets again.
“Hey Ponyboy, I got a letter for you.” I paused when I saw the look on his face.
“A letter?” He stood up, a little unsteadily. “From who?” For someone so smart, Ponyboy could be awful stupid sometimes.
“The President of the United States, of course.” I smacked him on the head. “It's from Sodapop.” He took the letter from me and read the letter to himself. I took a long drag and cussed at nothing for it not being a Kool. I looked up and saw Johnny staring at me, smiling a bit.
“You sure can cuss good, Dally.” He was leaning forward. I shook my head. I didn’t want Johnny to have to be like me, tough and hardened at such a young age. I couldn’t help feeling a little proud of myself, though.
"Sure can. But don't you kids get to pickin' up my bad habits." I poked Ponyboy’s hair again. “I got taken to the station for questioning and told ‘em you two were headed for Texas. They somehow bought it, so that’s where they’re lookin’.” Ponyboy looked up from the letter after reading it a few times over. I could see he really liked it.
“You two want to go get something to eat? I skipped breakfast and I'm about starved.” Johnny made a little squeaking noise, nearly falling out of the pew.
“You’re starved?” He rasped. I had to admit, he did look real hungry. They both did. I headed for the exit.
“Do y'all wantsomethin' to eat or not?" They jumped up, nodding. I drove them over to a local Dairy Queen, and I guess they weren’t used to cars or something because when I looked back they both looked sick. I pulled into the Dairy Queen parking lot.
“Hey, what do you guys want from here?” They both started talking at once. Johnny was louder.
“I need a burger! Get me one- no- get me five barbecue sandwiches!” He was nearly squealing. Man, what had gone down in that church? I looked at Pony, who was just screaming “PEPSI!” over and over again. Oh yeah, he’s a Pepsi addict. I ordered maybe ten barbecue sandwiches, half scared they might eat me if I didn’t feed them enough. The way they were chowing down on the food, they might have. I parked in a spot in the corner, away from anyone who might recognize us and watched them, a little concerned.
"Glory," I muttered. I didn’t try to pull the food away in fear of losing a finger. "You don't need to eat like every mouthful's your last. I got plenty of money. Take it easy, I don't want you gettin' sick on me." They paused for maybe half a second to look at me before eating faster. Jeezus. I figured I might as well catch them up while they ate.
“The Socs and us are having all-out warfare all over the city. That kid you killed had plenty of friends and all over town it's Soc against grease. We can't walk alone at all. I started carryin' a heater-”
“Dally!” Ponyboy spit out his Pepsi. “You kill people with heaters!” I stared at him blankly, well yeah, what did he think it was for? I looked back at Johnny.
“You kill people with switchblades, too.” Johnny paused and swallowed. “Don’t worry, it ain’t loaded, but it sure does help a bluff. Oh yeah, we’re having a rumble tomorrow night out at the lot. We got Tim’s gang to help us, it’s against most of the Socs.” I paused, thinking back to New York, how gangs organized fights every day. “Just like the good old days… Hey I didn’t tell you, we got ourselves a spy.” Johnny looked up from his fourth sandwich.
“A spy?” His eyes were wide. “Who?”
'That good-lookin' broad I tried to pick up the night you killed the Soc. The redhead, Cherry what's-her-name." Johnny choked on his sandwich and Ponyboy fumbled his Pepsi.
“Cherry?" They both yelled at the same time. I shushed them hurriedly.
"The Soc?” Johnny whispered. Ponyboy looked awful strange. His face was surprised, but his eyes lit up with something like hope. I nodded.
"Yeah, man. She came over to the vacant lot. Shepard and some of his outfit and us were hanging around there when she drives up in her little ol' Sting Ray. That took a lot of nerve. Some of us was for jumping her then and there, her bein' the dead kid's girl and all, but Two-Bit stopped us.” They didn’t say anything so I continued. "She said she felt that the whole mess was her fault, which it is, and that she'd keep up with what was comin' off with the Socs in the rumble and would testify that the Socs were drunk and looking for a fight and that you fought back in self-defense.” They took a moment to take this in. Johnny was finishing his fifth sandwich when he looked up and suddenly said,
“We’re goin’ back to turn ourselves in.” I felt my mouth go dry. I cursed to myself. Johnny couldn't turn himself in. I’d gone through all this trouble, giving them stuff and a place to stay and they were just gonna… go back?
“What?” I demanded. Johnny swallowed and nodded.
“I said we're goin’ back and turning ourselves in.” He repeated, his voice a little softer. I shook my head, trying to think of something, anything to say that would convince him to cut it out. When I didn't say anything, he went on.
"I got a good chance of bein' let off easy," Johnny said, his voice high and desperate. "I ain't got no record with the fuzz and it was self-defense. Ponyboy and Cherry can testify to that. I don't aim to stay in that church all my life.” I took a good look at him. His eyes were opened wide. He was trying to convince me, sure, but he was also convincing himself. “We won't tell that you helped us, Dally, and we'll give you back the gun and the money and say we hitchhiked back so you won't get into trouble. Okay?” I clamped a hand over my face and groaned. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"You-” I sighed. “You sure you want to go back? Us greasers get it worse than anyone else." Johnny took a deep breath and nodded slowly. Ponyboy looked a little surprised, but not nearly as surprised as I felt.
“I'm sure.” He said, and this time he sounded sure. “It ain't fair for Ponyboy to have to stay up in that church with Darry and Soda worryin' about him all the time. My parents…” His voice cracked. “Did they ask about me?” Was he being serious? Why did he give a damn what his parents thought? They were downright horrible to him.
“No.” I snapped, a little harsher than I meant to. “They didn't. What do they matter? Shoot, my old man don't give a hang whether I'm in jail or dead in a car wreck or drunk in the gutter. That don't bother me none." I stopped when I saw the expression on his face. He looked hurt. “Dammit, Johnny…” I revved the engine and swerved out of the Dairy Queen, feeling terrible. Johnny was sensitive, like I used to be. It wasn’t good to be sensitive when you were a greaser, even if he could fight well. I would have to be there to protect him, always. He shouldn't have to toughen up. The silence was somehow deafening.
"Blast it, Johnny," I grunted, breaking the silence. "Why didn't you think of turning yourself in five days ago? It would have saved a lot of trouble." He shrugged.
"I guess we ruined our hair for nothing, Ponyboy." Ponyboy, who had been awful quiet until then, spoke up.
"I guess so." I hunched over and tried to focus on the road, but the guilt was eating away at my head. I glanced at Johnny and immediately regretted it. I knew he hated for any of us to be mad at him, and he sure looked awful sad. Ponyboy was trying hard to ignore everything. I sighed and decided to speak to him.
“Johnny,” The sound of my own voice surprised me. It was high and desperate. “Johnny, I ain't mad at you. I just don't want you to get hurt. You don't know what a few months in jail can do to you. Oh, blast it, Johnny—” I hit the steering wheel. My chest felt weird and tight. “You get hardened in jail. I don't want that to happen to you. Like it happened to me-" I stopped because I scared myself. I had never, ever talked like that in years. Not since I was ten, growing up on the streets of New York…
“Would you rather have me on the run for the rest of my life?” Johnny asked. It was a genuine question. I knew if I said yes, he would listen to me, because everyone listened to me. I opened my mouth, searching for what to say when I caught a glimpse of smoke rising from the other side of the hill. We were back at the church, and I braked hard and stared.
“Glory!” I muttered. The church was on fire.
Ponyboy opened the door and hopped out.
“Let’s go see what this is all about!” He yelled. I turned around, wondering what the heck was going on in that kid’s brain. He couldn’t be serious. I had given him a hideaway, my jacket, and plus just fed him and this guy decides to run headfirst toward a burning church.
“What for?” I called after him. “Get back in here before I beat your head in!” But Johnny was already following him and I knew I had lost. “Godammit!” I smacked my head on the steering wheel in frustration. Why didn’t they ever just listen? I watched them walk up to a crowd that had gathered in front of the church, most of them little kids. Pony started talking to a man that was there, and then a lady ran up to them, looking distressed. All of a sudden, I heard a small scream coming from inside the church. The church that was on fire. Pony started bolting forward and I thought: You blasted fool.
Johnny started following him inside and I hurried out of the car, running towards them. I tried to see through the smoke, but there was only orange flickers, so I busted down some of the boards. Ponyboy was holding a kid, coughing. I reached in and pulled out the kid, dropping him as gently as I could, looking frantically for Johnny. And then I saw him. He was picking up a kid and for the first time since I met him he didn’t look scared. He didn’t look nervous and shy. He looked brave. Braver than I could ever be.
I continued helping the kids out when I heard a faint creak and saw the roof start to sink.
"For Pete's sake, get outta there! That roof’s gonna cave in any minute. Forget those blasted kids!" Pony dropped the last kid and stumbled through the window. His back was on fire. I slapped his back as hard as I could and he collapsed. For a second, I thought I had killed him until I heard a scream from inside the church. This scream, I knew. My throat felt tight.
“I’m coming, Johnny!” I pulled myself inside the church as burning wood and debris fell around me. I tried to ignore the smoke clogging my lungs, stinging my eyes. I looked through the smog and could make out two big black eyes staring back at me. I grabbed Johnny’s arm and hauled him towards the window as fast as I could, but then a wooden beam from the ceiling fell and hit Johnny square on the back. He passed out. I grabbed both his arms, pulling him desperately to the little square of light and fresh air. A searing pain shot up one of my arms, but I pushed Johnny out the window, following him out.
I stumbled away from the church as it collapsed, laying Johnny down on the dry, ash-covered grass. I wanted to break down just looking at him. His skin was seared and burned badly. I turned away. I hated to see Johnny hurt. I hated to see him coming to us in the morning, bruised from his dad. I hated to see him cut up, half dead after the Socs had jumped him. A little ways away, Ponyboy was on the floor.
I heard the siren of ambulances. I stood up slowly, looking around. The kids all seemed to be okay and a bunch of people were coming out of the ambulances. I rubbed my eyes, trying to stay sane as I saw them load Ponyboy on to a stretcher. Everything was spinning. My arm hurt. The smoke left a bitter taste in my mouth, stronger than the smoke from cigarettes. I was barely conscious as they laid me down in a stretcher and pushed me into an ambulance. Johnny was wheeled in after me. He wasn’t awake.
My vision blurred as the hills and trees flew by the window. I tried to look at Johnny as least often as possible. He was hooked up to tubes connected to clear bags full of liquid. It made me sick. A mask covered half his face. Not Johnny. Anyone but Johnny.
The rest of the ride was a blur. I drifted in and out of darkness, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my arm. I knew it was burned bad. The sun had set, and it was fully dark. A nurse came and rolled me into the hospital behind Johnny. I saw Ponyboy sitting in a chair in the hallway. As I was rolled by, I called out to him.
“You pull a stunt like that again and I’ll kill you.” I didn’t see his reaction because my eyelids felt heavy and they closed.
When I finally woke up, it was light outside. I was only in my underwear, and my arm had been bandaged. The first thing I thought of was Johnny. I remembered how weak he looked, lying on the grass. I wondered if he was doing okay or not. Then I tried not to think about it. The second thing I thought of was my arm and the rumble that was going to happen that night. It’s a bad feeling, not being able to participate in a rumble. Especially a rumble defending someone that you care about. I lay in bed, just thinking to myself when I heard a knock at the door. A nurse appeared in the doorway.
“Someone’s here to see you.” She stepped aside and revealed Tim Shepard, who was holding a rolled-up newspaper.
“Hey, Dal. Guess who made it into the paper.” I was so relieved I nearly fell out of the bed.
“Shepard.” I whispered, laughing. “Well, look who came to see me.” Tim grinned and strolled over to my bed. He handed me the newspaper. The headline read: “DELINQUENT YOUTHS TURNED HEROES AFTER DARING FIRE RESCUE.” Above the headline, there was a picture of Ponyboy, Johnny, and me. I chuckled to myself.
“They got my good side.” Tim grabbed the newspaper back.
“Dal, you ain’t got no good side. Sorry about your arm. Guess that means no rumble for you.” He was rubbing it in.
“Shut up, okay? It’s bad enough.” Tim whacked me on the head with the paper and backed away.
“I’ll see you when your arm’s better, y’hear?”
“Get out already!” He chuckled and ran down the hall. I regretted not asking him about Johnny. Or Ponyboy, even if he did seem alright last I saw him. I laid in bed for a long while, wishing I was somewhere else, anywhere else. Nurses went in and out, and I ate everything they gave me but I was wishing for a smoke. Hours went by. A nurse came in with a cup of water.
“C’mon, just let me have a smoke, just one smoke.” The nurse shook her head.
“You really shouldn’t when you’re like this.” She put down the water cup. I pounded the hospital bed mattress.
“Get out— just get out, you’re making me sick.” The nurse didn’t bat an eye and walked away. I almost didn’t notice Ponyboy and Two-Bit walk in after. I laughed.
“Man, am I glad to see you! These— hospital people won't let me smoke, and I want
out!" They sat down, smiling to each other. “Hey, Shepard came by a while ago.” Ponyboy nodded.
“Yeah, that’s what Johnny said. What did he want?” I shrugged.
“Not much, man. You know how he is. Mostly came to rub it in that I’m missing the rumble.” I grimaced. “Man, I hate not being in that. Uh…” I swallowed, trying not to sound too eager. “How’s the kid?”
“We just left him.” Two-Bit paused. That made me nervous. “I dunno much ‘bout stuff like this but… well… he seemed pretty bad to me. He passed out cold before we left.” I gritted my teeth and swore under my breath. My stomach had that hopeless sinking feeling. I couldn’t control this, and that made me… well, it made me something. I decided something right then though. I was going to that rumble. And I would do whatever it took to get there.
“Two-Bit?” I took a deep breath. “You still got that fancy jet-handled switch?” I knew how much that knife meant to Two-Bit. I was half-expecting him to refuse. But without hesitating, he reached into his pocket and flipped it out. He gazed at it, then me, and handed it over.
“We gotta win that fight tonight.” My voice was firm. “We gotta do it for Johnny, man.” I tucked the switch under my pillow. “Do it for Johnny.” I was determined to win that fight. If Johnny was going to die, I would at least get revenge for it. I lay back, staring at the ceiling. Ponyboy and Two-Bit hastily left. The rumble was scheduled for seven. I knew I couldn’t fight with my right arm but it would have to do.
Every few minutes, I glanced at the clock on the wall. At 6:00, a nurse came in with another glass of water. I waited until she put it down and pulled out Two-Bit’s switch. The nurse stepped back.
“I have somewhere I gotta go, alright?” The nurse nodded. I grinned and stood up. “You know where my clothes are?” The nurse silently pointed to a drawer. I opened it and slipped on my jeans and leather jacket. I nodded at the nurse and ran out of that room as fast as I could. I looked in every room in the hospital until I found the one Johnny was in. I stepped in as quietly as I could. He looked worse than ever. Hooked up to all sorts of tubes and things, his breathing was raspy and shallow. But I wouldn’t look away. Not this time. I slowly walked up to him and kneeled at his bed.
“Johnny…” I took his hand. “Hey, man, it’s Dally…” His eyes fluttered open. He coughed softly, and spoke, his voice coming out in short gasps.
“Dal… Dally, I’m not doing too good…” I nodded. The tightness was back. “Hey Dal…?”
“Yeah, man?” My voice caught. “Hey listen, Johnny, I’m going to the rumble tonight. We’re gonna beat the Socs for you… look, man you’re gonna be okay.” I was convincing myself. Johnny stirred.
“Dally… Dal I wanna see Pony, okay…?” He groaned. “Please…?” I nodded. Johnny exhaled and his hand went limp in mine. For a second I thought he was dead. But he was breathing. Barely breathing. Like I said, I’m not much of a religious guy, but that night I knelt next to Johnny and prayed.
The clock read 6:30. The lot. I had to get to the lot. I stood up and took one last good look at Johnny before heading out of the hospital. I had to pull Two-Bit’s blade on anyone who asked where I was going. I found Buck’s car and drove over to the Curtis house and parked there. I got out and headed for the lot. It was dark outside except for the occasional street light. I swallowed down the tightness. The crisp, cold air made it hurt to breathe. For the first time in four years I was scared. Really scared. I was scared for Ponyboy. He’s just a kid. I don’t think I could handle if something happened to him. I was scared for Johnny, too. He couldn’t die, he just couldn’t. We were gonna beat the Socs, and Johnny was gonna be okay. I was gonna make sure that those kids turned out better than I did. No matter what it takes.
I finally found the lot after a long time stumbling around. I saw the gang and the Shepards standing together. The Socs were there already, in their white pants and madras shirts. Darry was talking to one of them. The rumble was about to start.
“Hold it!” I yelled. They all turned to face me. I ran as fast as I could toward them. “Don’t you know a rumble ain’t a rumble without me?” Then a Soc punched Ponyboy in the face. “Oh shi-” The rumble was on. I ran into the fray and found a Soc about my size and slammed him on the ground. His fancy clothes got all splattered with mud as I punched him over and over again with my good arm. I kicked him one last time for good measure and went looking for Ponyboy. He was being tackled to the ground. I pulled the Soc off of him and slammed him onto the ground. He ran, cussing at me. Ponyboy gasped and stumbled to his feet.
“I thought you were in the hospital.” I reached out and steadied him by the arms.
“I ain’t now. Had to talk a few people into it with Two-Bit’s switch.” He didn’t reply because a Soc tackled him. I cursed and ran to help him when another grabbed me by the shoulder and slugged me across the face. I held his arm and kneed him in the stomach so he collapsed into the mud. Ponyboy let out a yelp from behind me. The Soc who tackled him was kicking him in the ribs as hard as he could. I grabbed him ‘round the neck and threw him to the floor. Ponyboy groaned from the ground.. I heard a joyful whoop.
“They’re running!” Two-Bit yelled. “Look at ‘em run!” Sure enough, the Socs were stumbling back towards their cars. I looked around at the gang. Sodapop had a good bruise on his cheek and was helping up Steve who was clutching his stomach and whining. Two-Bit was bleeding heavily from somewhere on his face, but he was grinning and patting a busted-up Darry on the back.
“We won.” Darry mumbled. I stood next to Ponyboy for a second, taking the scene in. Then I remembered Johnny.
“Come on!” I hauled Ponyboy to his feet and started dragging him across the street. “We’re goin’ to see Johnny.” His legs wobbled, but we couldn’t spare any time.
“Hurry!” I shoved him along. “He was gettin’ worse when I left, he wants to see you.” I blocked out the pain from my arm and the pain from being roughed up from the rumble. I hauled him to Buck’s car. I sat him in the passenger seat and started up the engine. He looked pretty bad. I drove down to the hospital as fast as I could, until a siren sounded and I had to stop. I turned to Ponyboy.
“Alright, look sick,” I told him. “I’ll say I’m takin’ you to the hospital, which’ll be truth enough.” He didn’t have much trouble doing that. I rolled down the window for the policeman.
“Okay, buddy, where’s the fire?” I tried as best I could to look concerned which wasn’t hard. I pointed to Ponyboy. “The kid, he fell over on his motorcycle and I’m takin’ him to the hospital.” Ponyboy groaned pretty convincingly. The cop knitted his brow. He was buying.
“Is he real bad? You need an escort?”
“I don’t know, man, do I look like a doctor to you? And yeah, we could use an escort.” The policeman nodded and got back into his car. I rolled the window back up and started driving again.
“Sucker.” We drove in silence for a little bit, but my chest was getting tighter and tighter. I sat in silence before I couldn’t take it anymore. I was losing it, I really was. If I had just protected Johnny a little bit more, or maybe if I had toughened him up like me…
“I was crazy, you know that, kid?” I hit the steering wheel.” Crazy for wantin' Johnny to stay outa trouble, for not wantin' him to get hard. If he'd been like me he'd never have been in this mess. If he'd got smart like me he'd never have run into that church. That's what you get for helpin' people. Editorials in the paper and a lot of trouble.... You'd better wise up, Pony… you get tough like me and you don't get hurt. You look out for yourself and nothin' can touch you…” I screeched in front of the hospital and pulled Pony out. We ran through the waiting room. I could only think of Johnny, lying there on the hospital bed. We finally got to Johnny’s room but a doctor stopped us.
“I’m sorry boys, but he’s dying.” Dying? He couldn’t be dying. I shook my head and flicked out the switch. When I spoke, I recognized the tone from when we were in the car; high and desperate.
“We gotta see him. We gotta, and if you don’t let us you’ll end up on your own operatin’ table.” The doctor didn’t even blink. That bothered me.
“You can see him, but because you’re his friends, not because of that blade.” I stared at him for a minute and put the blade back into my pocket. I pushed past him and into the room. Ponyboy was behind me, taking deep, shuddering breaths. It was real quiet. I stepped forward to Johnny, and for a second I thought it was too late.
“Johnnycake?” I whispered, my voice pleading. “Johnny?” Johnny shifted weakly and opened his eyes.
“Hey….” He murmured. I knelt next to him.
“We won…” I muttered. “We beat the Socs. We chased them out…” Johnny shook his head.
“Useless… fighting’s no good…” I exhaled softly, searching for what to say next. I hesitantly reached out and took his hand. It was warm in mine
“They’re still writing editorials in the paper about you. For being a hero and all.” I spoke as gently as I could, which I think surprised Pony just as much as it surprised me. “Yeah, they’re calling you a hero and heroizin’ all the greasers. We’re proud of you, buddy.” Johnny looked at me with glowing eyes. That was what he wanted? He just wanted me to be proud of him. Didn’t he know I’d always been proud of him?
“Ponyboy…” He rasped. I stood up to give Ponyboy room to lean in next to Johnny. “Stay gold, Ponyboy… stay gold.” And then I saw Johnny Cade die. The tightness was worse than it had ever been. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Johnny wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. I reached out and shook his arm a little.
“Johnny, come on.” Johnny didn’t even stir. Something snapped inside of me. “So this is what you get, huh?” It wasn’t fair. “that's what you get for tryin' to help people, you little punk, that's what you get… dammnit, Johnny…” I slammed my fist to the wall. Something dripped onto my knee and I realized I was crying. I forgot how much it hurt to cry. “Dammit Johnny, please don’t die…” Even though I knew it was too late. I couldn’t stay in that room any longer. I darted out the door and into the hall. I pushed past people who were waiting and threw myself into the car. I had to get out.
I started up the engine and swerved away. I had to get out. They took everything from me. They couldn't take any more. Johnny was the only thing keeping me going. He was the one speck of hope in this world. Maybe… I had thought, maybe I could save him. Maybe someone out there didn’t have to end up like me. And now that light was dark. I had to get out. I had to get away from Tulsa. But once I was out, where would I go? Home? New York? No, New York wasn’t home. I had to get home.
I parked the car in a convenience store parking lot and stumbled out. I didn’t bother to close the door. I headed inside and looked at some magazines for a second. The lights were hurting my head. It all got too much and I ripped one in half.
“You’re gonna have to pay for that, buddy.” The store clerk leaned over the counter. I threw the magazine to the floor and walked over to him. The unloaded heater. I reached in my jacket and pulled it to his face.
“The money, man. Give me the money.” The clerk’s face twisted in fear. “GIVE ME THE MONEY!” The clerk reached in the register and handed me a stack of bills. I took them and ran. I ran out of the store, away from the lights. The lights that hurt my eyes. I had to see the gang one last time. In the distance, I could already hear sirens. I ran to a phone booth and dialed the Curtis house. The voice on the other end was Darry’s.
“Hello?”
“The park. I’m in the park.” I whispered breathlessly. “Johnny’s dead.”
“Yeah,” Darry’s voice was steady and slow. “We know.” So Ponyboy had already gotten back.
“Look, man,” The sirens got louder. “Just meet me in the park, okay?” I hung up. I ran around a corner. The park was right ahead. Three cop cars cornered me and a few policemen got out, holding guns. I pulled out the heater.. I heard footsteps in the distance and a faint voice yelling. “Don’t shoot! It’s not loaded!”
The bullet hit me sharp and fast, the pain blurring my vision. I could see the gang running towards me, led by a small, scared boy, who watched sunsets and read stories and wrote poetry, It was too late to realize that maybe I did have something to live for. Looking at him, I saw myself at ten, shaking and scared. I wished that I could have told him about who I used to be and only hope that he wouldn’t turn out like I had. I thought I was being tough, that being tough was the only way. But in reality, I was weaker than I was at ten. Weaker than Ponyboy, and weaker than Johnny. Johnny. I'm coming, Johnny. Please wait for me. I was too weak to handle pain, and so there I died, young and reckless.
I felt my legs give out from under me and I waited for the ground to come up and swallow me. Except it never did. Except, I fell up. And as I fell, I could see myself, bloodied and limp. The gang was rushing over to me. I soon got too far to see below me so I looked up. I could see someone there, above me, and I could tell they were waiting. So I fell into the open arms of Johnny Cade.
Stay gold.
(TY FOR READING ALL THE WAY GOLD MEDAL 🏅currently working on Johnny’s POV i swear it’ll be out soon)