Title: Watching a Sunset
Rating: G
Summary: 5 years later, Ponyboy reflects on life without Darry and Johnny.
~*~
People say that time heals all wounds. I didn't think so. Time helps a little; it dulls the pain of loss so that it's bearable, but it never truly heals.
I still wake up sweating and shaking some nights. They aren't the dreams I used to have.
I see flashes of Johnny, Dally, and even Bob. I still hear Bob's voice the night that they jumped Johnny and me saying, 'You could use a bath, greaser'.
I can still see Johnny, white as a sheet when they wheeled him into the hospital.
I can still see Dally crumbling under the street light, cops all around. I can still see, and it hurts real bad.
I'm nineteen now. It's still hard to believe that it's been 5 whole years since we lost both Johnny and Dallas in the same day. It seems longer, I think.
Or maybe like it was only yesterday. All I know is that it doesn't seem like it's been five years. I made good grades all through the rest of high school. Darry was right; I did get into a college. My old English teacher, Mr. Syme, gave me an A on that paper. He actually bumped my grade to a B, even though I didn't want him to.
I let everyone read my theme when I got it back. Two-Bit actually sat down and read it, which surprised me because he and Soda didn't like to sit still.
Steve stopped giving me dirty looks, which surprised me again. But then I realized that maybe he was mean without meaning to be mean. Maybe it was a habit; something that had to do with his dad always being mean.
Darry took longer than anyone to respond once he had read it, but when he did, he had a lot to say. He told me that I was right; that he didn't mean to be rough and cold with me sometimes. In fact, he said that he didn't even know that he was. He had agreed when I told him that I meant what I said about working too hard. He promised to take it a little easier. Finally, he said that no matter how cold I seemed or how much I wanted him to leave me alone, he wouldn't because he felt like he was responsible for me. He said that he wouldn't let me end up like him and Soda. He insisted that I could achieve much more than being a house-roofer or an auto mechanic.
And maybe he was right.
Darry and Soda have been working to put me through college. I'm having a little trouble in Math, but even in that class I'm getting a B. I think I wanna be a writer. I know that they don't make much money, but with my imagination I figured that I could get a lot of books published.
Plus, maybe, it would give me a chance to let everyone know that things are rough all over, not just on the East Side.
I help out where I can, but it's not much. I work at the little grocery store that all the Greasers go to. We get a lot of business. I've grown up a lot in the last 5 years.
My hair lightened a little to a few shades darker than the peroxide blonde I was when we were in the church. I'm taller; not as tall as Darry, but Soda no longer towers over me. And my eyes are green, but I don't mind anymore---they fit me just fine. I actually went out with some nice girls from the college-Cherry, surprisingly, and another girl named Amy who lasted almost a whole semester. But then she dropped out and moved away. That had hurt.
I understood how Soda felt when Sandy left.
Two-Bit is still the same, although he toned down his drinking a bit and he actually helps him momma around the house. And ya know what? She didn't have a heart attack.
Steve, is, well, Steve, although he no longer sees his father. And he's better for it., I'm sure.
Darry isn't as cold anymore; partly because he didn't know that he was before, and partly because he doesn't have to worry about me and Soda gettin' sent to a boys' home.
Sodapop is still wild and reckless, and I still love him for it. He got a new girlfriend, which I think is nice. Maybe he's in love with her, too.
And I'm ok. Not good, not great, not fantastic, just ok. Sometimes I visit Dallas's and Johnny's graves. They're simple graves, really, but they're there, and that's what matters.
I still talk to them, which may sound strange, but I don't care. I tell Dally who beat up who and who cheated on who.
I finished reading Gone With The Wind to Johnny, even though he can't hear me.
I try to stay gold, like Johnny asked me to.
And as I'm writing this, I'm watching the sunset, and I think, that maybe, things will be ok. Maybe they aren't great, but as long as they're ok, that's what matters.
I'll always remember what Cherry said, about things bein' rough all over. And she's right. Things are rough all over, even if no one can see it. It doesn't matter if you're Soc or Greaser. As long as you can still watch a sunset, you're ok. At least, that's how I look at it.
Nothing gold can stay, Robert Frost wrote. But maybe, given the right circumstances, something can stay gold. Maybe, all it needs is a chance. Maybe all a person needs to stay gold is as a glimpse of what's really bad to let you know what's really good. And I've had that chance. And I'll always be thankful.
Rating: G
Summary: 5 years later, Ponyboy reflects on life without Darry and Johnny.
~*~
People say that time heals all wounds. I didn't think so. Time helps a little; it dulls the pain of loss so that it's bearable, but it never truly heals.
I still wake up sweating and shaking some nights. They aren't the dreams I used to have.
I see flashes of Johnny, Dally, and even Bob. I still hear Bob's voice the night that they jumped Johnny and me saying, 'You could use a bath, greaser'.
I can still see Johnny, white as a sheet when they wheeled him into the hospital.
I can still see Dally crumbling under the street light, cops all around. I can still see, and it hurts real bad.
I'm nineteen now. It's still hard to believe that it's been 5 whole years since we lost both Johnny and Dallas in the same day. It seems longer, I think.
Or maybe like it was only yesterday. All I know is that it doesn't seem like it's been five years. I made good grades all through the rest of high school. Darry was right; I did get into a college. My old English teacher, Mr. Syme, gave me an A on that paper. He actually bumped my grade to a B, even though I didn't want him to.
I let everyone read my theme when I got it back. Two-Bit actually sat down and read it, which surprised me because he and Soda didn't like to sit still.
Steve stopped giving me dirty looks, which surprised me again. But then I realized that maybe he was mean without meaning to be mean. Maybe it was a habit; something that had to do with his dad always being mean.
Darry took longer than anyone to respond once he had read it, but when he did, he had a lot to say. He told me that I was right; that he didn't mean to be rough and cold with me sometimes. In fact, he said that he didn't even know that he was. He had agreed when I told him that I meant what I said about working too hard. He promised to take it a little easier. Finally, he said that no matter how cold I seemed or how much I wanted him to leave me alone, he wouldn't because he felt like he was responsible for me. He said that he wouldn't let me end up like him and Soda. He insisted that I could achieve much more than being a house-roofer or an auto mechanic.
And maybe he was right.
Darry and Soda have been working to put me through college. I'm having a little trouble in Math, but even in that class I'm getting a B. I think I wanna be a writer. I know that they don't make much money, but with my imagination I figured that I could get a lot of books published.
Plus, maybe, it would give me a chance to let everyone know that things are rough all over, not just on the East Side.
I help out where I can, but it's not much. I work at the little grocery store that all the Greasers go to. We get a lot of business. I've grown up a lot in the last 5 years.
My hair lightened a little to a few shades darker than the peroxide blonde I was when we were in the church. I'm taller; not as tall as Darry, but Soda no longer towers over me. And my eyes are green, but I don't mind anymore---they fit me just fine. I actually went out with some nice girls from the college-Cherry, surprisingly, and another girl named Amy who lasted almost a whole semester. But then she dropped out and moved away. That had hurt.
I understood how Soda felt when Sandy left.
Two-Bit is still the same, although he toned down his drinking a bit and he actually helps him momma around the house. And ya know what? She didn't have a heart attack.
Steve, is, well, Steve, although he no longer sees his father. And he's better for it., I'm sure.
Darry isn't as cold anymore; partly because he didn't know that he was before, and partly because he doesn't have to worry about me and Soda gettin' sent to a boys' home.
Sodapop is still wild and reckless, and I still love him for it. He got a new girlfriend, which I think is nice. Maybe he's in love with her, too.
And I'm ok. Not good, not great, not fantastic, just ok. Sometimes I visit Dallas's and Johnny's graves. They're simple graves, really, but they're there, and that's what matters.
I still talk to them, which may sound strange, but I don't care. I tell Dally who beat up who and who cheated on who.
I finished reading Gone With The Wind to Johnny, even though he can't hear me.
I try to stay gold, like Johnny asked me to.
And as I'm writing this, I'm watching the sunset, and I think, that maybe, things will be ok. Maybe they aren't great, but as long as they're ok, that's what matters.
I'll always remember what Cherry said, about things bein' rough all over. And she's right. Things are rough all over, even if no one can see it. It doesn't matter if you're Soc or Greaser. As long as you can still watch a sunset, you're ok. At least, that's how I look at it.
Nothing gold can stay, Robert Frost wrote. But maybe, given the right circumstances, something can stay gold. Maybe, all it needs is a chance. Maybe all a person needs to stay gold is as a glimpse of what's really bad to let you know what's really good. And I've had that chance. And I'll always be thankful.