Hardened
Disclaimer: It would be so cool if I owned the Outsiders, but that amazing right goes to S.E. Hinton, not me.
Dallas's Point of View:
"I'm gonna turn myself in," Johnny said, his black eyes large with fear. For this I didn't blame him. Letting the police blame you for something you didn't do sucks, like I had done when Two-Bit broke the windows out of the school, but at least something good came out of me taking the blame for Two-Bit. Admitting that you did something to the fuzz is just plain stupid. It doesn't help anyone, and it just gets you in a whole lot of trouble.
I cussed a bit just to express my feelings towards this idea, and then I scowled as I thought of what Johnny wanted to do. It was obvious that turning himself in was a horrible idea, but I didn't know how to explain that to the kid without ruining my reputation for being tough. I couldn't break down and tell him my reasons for not wanting him to do it.
I turned and looked at Johnny as I was driving, which probably wasn't a great idea since I almost crashed. Right now, Johnny looked rather ashamed, as he always did when I snapped at him. I tried to imagine what Johnny would be like after he got out of the cooler and how different he would be, and the last of my resolve to not do anything to stop him crumbled.
"Johnny…don't be like that. I ain't mad at you. It's just…," I struggled to find the right words to show him what I meant. "I don't want you getting hurt. You don't know what even a few months in jail can do to you." I didn't like the words coming out of my mouth, but I was so desperate to stop him now that I couldn't stop talking. I guess I'd just kept the thoughts to myself for so long that they were bursting out of my mouth. "You get hardened when you're in jail. I don't want that to happen to you…," I couldn't believe what I was going to say next, but I had to complete the thought. I'd never said anything like it to anyone. "….like it happened to me."
I stared out the window, trying to avoid looking at Johnny and Ponyboy's faces. I was still shocked that I'd just said those words, and even more surprised by how true I realized they were. Jail had changed me, and I couldn't let that happen to Johnny. It may have been too late for me, but Johnny still had a chance to do something with his life. As much as I talked to Johnny and hung out with the kid, I realized how much I didn't want him to be like me.
When I was 10, I was already in jail. That's why I was so hard and tough when I started hanging around the gang. None of them had known me before I had been arrested for the first time, and they hadn't known me before I had been in New York either. The truth was, I was probably a little bit like Johnny back then. The only difference was that I didn't have someone looking out for me the way that I looked out for him. Jail had hardened me, and I couldn't stand the thought of Johnny turning out to be as much of a hoodlum as I knew I was.
I looked at Johnny and Ponyboy again, but this time I only watched them out of the corner of my eye. Both of them looked rather shocked as if they were still trying to decipher the true meaning of what I had said. I sure hoped they didn't figure it out.
Finally, Johnny managed to say something. "Would you rather have me hiding in that old church all my life, with me always on the run?"
I was trying to figure out what my answer to that question was when we arrived at the church. Everyone around it stared at the red and orange flames that devoured the building. Smoke filled the air, rising in monstrous black swirls. It looked as though there would be no church for Johnny and Ponyboy to hide in, even if they had decided that they wanted to go back.
I turned around to tell them that they had better not even think of getting out when I saw Ponyboy jumping out the door. "What are you doing?" I screamed at him as Johnny followed him out of the back seat. They took off running towards a group of people near the burning church, leaving me cussing at them at the top of my lungs in the car.
I watched from a distance as Ponyboy and Johnny had a conversation with a rather fat man. I wasn't going to get out and chase them yet. I was hoping that after they talked to the man and found out what was happening, they'd both have enough sense to return to the car. Unfortunately, they seemed to be doing the opposite. Ponyboy sprinted towards a window of the church, with Johnny running right behind him.
With a final curse, I turned my car off and started after them. I saw them both jump through the window as the plump man stood outside of it. I increased my pace, pushing past the people standing pointlessly in front of the church, blocking my path.
Johnny and Ponyboy must have been helping some kids get through the window because a few of them were stumbling right outside it as I made my way to where they were standing. The building was beginning to collapse, and Ponyboy and Johnny were still inside. I hoped that they'd realize how stupid they were being and get out, but then again, they'd been stupid enough to run into the church in the first place.
I increased my pace, running as fast as I could. Johnny was inside that building. I couldn't let it collapse. I just couldn't. If Johnny died in that stupid church, it would be all my fault. I told him and Ponyboy to come here in the first place. I needed to save him. Even if he chose to turn himself in, I'd rather have him in the cooler than dead.
By the time I got to the burning church, Ponyboy had jumped out the window, but his back was still on fire, protected only by my jacket. I would help him as soon as I could, but my natural instinct was to save Johnny. I reached into the window, trying to help him out. The moment before I could haul him to safety, a large piece of wood fell, striking him across the back.
I could feel the flames licking my arms, but I didn't care. I tugged Johnny out the window, hoping he hadn't been hurt too badly. The pudgy man took care of him immediately, calling an ambulance, so I swung around and turned my attention to Ponyboy. I tried to put out the flames with my burnt arm since I figured it couldn't get much worse. I swung my arm at Ponyboy, but he dropped to the ground as soon as I made contact with him. I was worried I may have broken his neck, but the ambulances arrived before I could do anything more. People who I assumed were doctors put Ponyboy onto a stretcher and then tried to do the same with me. I protested, swearing at them, and pulled away. It wasn't until they made me look at my burnt arm that I reluctantly agreed to go with them.
"I'm only going because Johnny's here, not because I need to or anything," I told them over and over in the ambulance, just to make it clear that I did not need their help. Truthfully, it probably was best that I let someone professional look at my arm, but there was no way I was going to admit to anyone that it burned like the flames were still surrounding it. I was the tough one. I wasn't going to tell anyone how badly it actually hurt. I wouldn't ever admit that I was that weak. No one would ever see me as weak as I was today when I talked about being in jail because when you're tough like me, you don't get hurt. When you're tough, like I am, nothing can touch you.
