Author's Note: This was originally written as a school project, but I was really proud of it so I posted it here. Read, and reviews are always appreciated!

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"Isn't he beautiful, Pony?"

"Yeah, Suzie," I replied, "he is."

Suzie and I had just come home from the hospital, and she had let me carry our son into the house. Our son, Nicolas, had a tuft of dark hair and dark eyes. He squirmed in my arms, and I still couldn't believe Suzie and I had made something so beautiful, so golden. All I knew was that I wanted him to stay that way.


"Hey, Dad! Look at me!"

I turned to see Nicolas running towards me. A white sheet fluttered behind him and a red mask surrounded his eyes. His dark hair was falling in front of his face, but that didn't stop him from charging at me.

I picked Nicolas up and swung him around. He hugged my neck as he laughed, and I had to laugh too. When we stopped swinging, I pushed his hair off of his face, only to have it fall back to where it was. At only eight years old, Nicolas John Curtis was certainly growing up. He had dark hair like me, but he got his mother's chocolate eyes and curly locks. He was a big ball of energy, a trait Suzie and I could never seem to relate to either of us. His biggest fascination, though, was superheroes. It didn't matter if it was Superman, Spiderman, or Wolverine; Nicolas loved every single one of them. He was convinced that he could be a superhero too.

We stayed like that, laughing and hugging, until Suzie came in. She had an average height and average build, but everything else about her was amazing. Her light brown hair fell in curls around her face, and her chocolate brown eyes reflected her feelings. They twinkled when she was happy and melted when she was sad. She wore her heart on her sleeve, which was one of the reasons I fell in love with her.

Suzie, with her shimmering eyes, joined us in our hug and whispered in my ear, "He's getting bigger and bigger, Pony."

"Yeah," I smiled, "he is." I pecked her cheek and put Nicolas down. He hit the ground running, of course, and ran off to fight his next villain, nap time.

Suzie watched him run off before she spoke to me, "Are you gonna miss him when you go to see the boys this year?"

"I miss him every year, Suzie," I muttered. Every year, I would spend a week back in my old town so I could see the old gang again, or at least what's left of it. Our annual meetings weren't just for fun though. The week we spent together was a memorial to Dally and Johnny and how one week changed all of us. That week brought us closer together and tore us apart. I was due to drive back into town in a few days, but I was thinking that maybe there would be room for one more this year.

"Suzie," I began, "do you think I could take Nicky to town with me this year?"

"Well," Suzie said, "do you think it would be imposing on the boys?"

"I thought about that," I replied, "but I want Nicky so know who Johnny and Dally were and why they died. I feel like he's old enough to know now."

Suzie nodded slowly, letting my words sink in. "He can go," she said, "just don't let him near Two-Bit or Steve."

I laughed and pecked her on the cheek again, "I won't, Suzie. I promise."


On Monday morning, Nicolas scrambled into the back seat of the car. I pushed two duffel bags onto the seat next to him, each one filled with clothes to last us the week. When I shut the car door, Suzie was standing behind me with a sad smile on her face. Her eyes were melting as she looked at me, and I pulled her into a tight hug.

"I'm gonna miss you two so much," Suzie whimpered.

"Suzie, look at me," I said while holding her chin, "it's just like any old visit. You don't have to get upset."

"I know," she sighed, "but Nicky is growing up so fast, and you're whisking him away to see your old buddies. I always miss you when you're gone…" Suzie trailed off.

I laughed and hugged her again, "It'll be a whole lot quieter with us gone."

Suzie smiled and whispered, "I love you, Pony."

"I love you too," I whispered as I kissed her.

"Eww, Daddy, that's gross!" Nicky yelled from the car. When I turned around, he was standing on the driver's seat with half of his body hanging out of the window.

"Get back in your seat, Nicolas!" I shouted. Dejected, Nicky moved back to his seat. I turned back to face Suzie who had a smile on her face. "I guess I should go," I said.

"You should," Suzie replied.

With a final hug, I got back into the car and drove away.


"Hey, Pony, you made it!" Sodapop yelled from across the yard. Standing at our old house, he waved at me from the porch. His golden hair stood out in the sunlight and his dark brown eyes were shining. I couldn't help feeling a little bit happier with him there. Soda bounded down the steps and ran across the yard to hug me. "It's great to see you, Ponyboy," he said.

"Same here, Soda," I replied, "but I didn't come alone this year."

Soda cocked his eyebrow and gave me a funny look before the realization hit him. "You didn't," he said with a smirk.

I shrugged my shoulders as a loud scream came from behind me, "Uncle Soda!"

Nicolas charged at Soda and nearly knocked him down. They wrestled a bit, and I couldn't help but think that Soda would be a great dad. He was funny and a great guy to goof around with, but he was someone to be admired. After his old girlfriend Sandy moved down to Florida, Soda never really loved anyone the same way again.

Once Soda and Nicky finished their fight, the three of us walked into the house. Three familiar faces greeted us.

Steve Randle sat with his hand folded in front of him. His hair was still combed back, but he never greased it anymore, no one did. After all these years, Steve and I had come to have a mutual respect for each other. He still wasn't too crazy about me, but him and Soda were still best friends. I came along with that friendship.

Two-Bit Matthews sat back on the couch with a smile plastered on his face. His gray eyes contrasted his rust-colored hair, which fell neatly around his face. The word was that he had his hair cut last time he was in jail, but Two-Bit was still unfazed. We had all been fond of our hair, but times have changed. We were no longer Greasers; we were men with delinquent pasts and great hair.

Darry leaned against the wall, his blue-green eyes looking at me. His dark brown hair had stayed the same over the years, but he was a different man. After working me through college, Darry finally let himself relax a bit. Sure, he still had to break his back working to earn a living, but he finally stepped back to admire life. That's how he got himself a girl.

Darry stepped forward from the wall and gave me a hug. He pulled back with a smile and gestured towards Nicolas, "I see you brought a guest."

"Yeah, Pony," Two-Bit chimed in, "what's the big idea?"

"I wanted him to know," I replied with a shrug. Darry and Soda nodded in reply. They both knew how important this was to me. I was the whole reason we met up each year as a tribute to Dally and Johnny. Two-Bit chuckled and Steve grunted in reply. They understood, but they hadn't seen me after Johnny and Dally's deaths. They hadn't really seen me in denial. They hadn't known I wrote our story.

We had chatted for a bit, each of us telling about our current lives. Steve and Soda owned the local gas station, Two-Bit got a job, and Darry was thinking about marriage. We stayed like that for six days. We shared life stories, told a drunken tale or two (but I was never drunk), and we reminisced about the good old days of Dally and Johnny. It was just like every year. The only difference was we just had an extra set of ears.


On the seventh day, I stood in the yard with Soda and Darry saying goodbye. It wasn't a tear-filled goodbye, but it wasn't a happy goodbye either. All the memories had come back, but we didn't want to leave them yet. We lingered there with not a word between us, until Nicolas ran out of the house yelling for me.

I picked him up with a laugh because he was probably the victim of one of Two-Bit's pranks. We all started to laugh then, even Nicolas. Johnny and Dally were the past, and we were all moving forward. Nicky was the proof of that.

"He looks a lot like you, Pony," Darry said with a smile.

"He thinks like you, too," Soda added. "I haven't met a smarter kid."

I nodded in reply. Through everything, the three of us were always brothers, even after I moved out. I looked down at Nicolas. His head was buried in my shoulder in one of his rare moments of shyness. Soda, Darry, and I all said goodbye to each other. I put Nicolas in the back seat as I drove away. I wasn't going home yet. I still had a few stops to make.

We pulled up to the graveyard about ten minutes later. We got out of the car and we made the short walk to Dally's grave. It wasn't anything fancy, just his name and years of life. Nicolas stood behind me as I paid my respects. I remembered Dally dying, how he caused a police pursuit and died before he hit the ground. That was the death of a hoodlum.

Next we made the trek to Johnny's grave. His tombstone wasn't too special either, but there was one defining mark. I knelt down next to the tombstone and traced each letter I had made. I remember being fourteen, sneaking into the graveyard with a knife to etch just a few words. The words he whispered when he died a hero.

Nicolas, as bored as he was, followed behind me. Maybe he didn't fully understand it yet, but I think he sensed the sacredness of the moment for me. When we reached the car, he seemed to breath a sigh of relief. Sadly for him, I still had one more stop.


We had driven a few miles into the country until we reached our destination, Windrixville. It hadn't changed much from when I was fourteen. It was like stepping back in time, back when my biggest worry was hiding from the cops.

Nicky and I started to walk up Jay Mountain. I smiled and imagined Johnny was there next to me. We were two not-so-farm-looking boys wanting to hide. When we reached the top, I half expected to see the old stone church. In reality, there wasn't a single stone left from the church. All that was there now was grass, weeds, and flowers. Even the water pump was gone. It was strange how the rest of the town seemed to be frozen in time, but this tiny hill had changed so much.

I sat down in the grass and Nicolas followed suit. We were quiet for a while, but I knew I had to talk to him. "What did you learn about Johnny and Dally this week, Nicky?" I asked.

"Well, I know that Dally was a really angry guy, Johnny was quiet, and that they both died."

"That's the most basic idea," I replied, "but their story was a lot bigger than that."

"Can you tell me then?" Nicky asked.

"Absolutely," I said.

I started with the gangs, how the Socs beat the Greasers and how the Greasers were considered no-good hoods. The gangs weren't around anymore, but back then it defined us. I was as simple as black and white, Greaser and Soc. Then I explained Johnny and Dally. Dally was a rebel, a tough New York City kid who messed with everyone. The one thing he loved though was Johnny. Scared by circumstance, we were Johnny's only family. Next came the murder. I told how sweet, scared, and innocent Johnny killed someone to save me. I told about how we turned to Dally and how he sent us to hide in the old church. Then the fire happened and left us all speechless. After the rumble between the Socs and the Greasers, we all ran to see Johnny and watched him die. That's when Dally snapped a robbed a store. While being chased by the police, he pulled out a gun (unloaded of course), and we watched another friend die.

"That all really happened, Daddy?" Nicky asked.

"Yeah," I sighed, "it did."

"If Johnny and Dally were both your friends, why did you only write on Johnny's grave?" Nicky asked.

I had never really thought about it as a matter of friendship, but more about the honor of it. "Johnny and Dally died differently. Johnny was a hero and Dally was a hoodlum."

"Was Johnny like a superhero?" Nicky asked.

"No," I said with a laugh, "just a plain, old, regular, hero."

"'Cause he saved all those kids from the fire, right?"

"That's right."

"So, everyone liked Johnny 'cause he was a hero and saved some little kids. Did everyone hate Dally 'cause he was angry?"

"Dally saw the world differently than we do. He only saw the bad stuff and died how everyone thought a Greaser should die."

"A hoodlum and a hero," Nicky muttered. I smiled and looked at Nicky next to me. He was looking straight ahead and his hair had fallen in front of his face. He was innocent, but he knew how to think. Sodapop was right; he was smart for an eight year old.

"Let me tell you, Nicky," I said, "Johnny saw that some things could stay shiny and golden, like all the superheroes. Dally saw everything brown and ugly. I want you to be shiny and golden and I want you to see the world the same way."

Nicky nodded, urging me to keep going. I knew what I wanted to say. They were the same words Johnny said to me before he died, the same words I carved into his tombstone. They were age-old words that brought new meaning to everyone. I hoped that Nicky would live by them.

"Stay gold, Nicky. Stay gold."