Watching him avoid eye contact kills me. But I learned early that pushing him only makes him shut down. He'll give you whatever answers will make you stop asking questions the quickest.
Say something. Think of anything to say. Nothing comes out.
I know my boys like to think I always know how to make it right, but I don't.
I don't know how to make a mother love her son. For me it was automatic. When they handed baby Darrel to me, my chest stung. My throat was dry and burning. He looked at me and frowned. That boy was always serious, even as a child. I smiled, and haven't stopped smiling since.
I don't know how to stop a father from beating his child. My father was absent. A dead-beat. There was never a man around to hit me. I spanked Soda once when he was three. I was exhausted that day. Me and Darrel argued about his hours before he left for work that morning. Darry got into his first fight at school and was currently in detention. Ponyboy refused to nap that day. He decided to test out his lungs instead. Soda. Well, Soda never could sit still for very long. He kept running throughout the house and I told him to stop several times. Usually I would have just laughed and played along with him. But not that day. Soda ran into the kitchen and hit the corner of the table. Three plates shattered. We didn't have a whole lot of money sitting around. I was so frustrated I carried him into his bedroom and spanked him three times. One hit for each dish. When I looked into his eyes my heart shattered. He was confused. Confused I could handle, but not the other emotion. He was scared. I had never raised a hand to him and neither had Darrel. He was real strict about that. His dad had knocked him around enough to last generations and then some he explained to me.
In his little three year old voice, he apologized. "I'm sorry mommy. I'll sit now." I cried then. I hugged him close to me and told him I would never hit him again. I apologized over and over. My mother never gave me reason to fear her, and my children wouldn't fear me. I hit once, and I never hit again.
I can't teach someone to pay attention to their son. I knew to stop what I was doing to listen to Darry. He handles everything in a head on manner. He requires your full attention. I knew to have Soda join me in whatever I was doing to listen to him. He doesn't like to talk nearly as much as he likes to be busy. But Pony was the wild card. You had to wait until he was ready to talk. And for whatever reason it was usually at night.
"It's cold out here tonight!" Why doesn't he just come in and sleep on the couch? We've offered it enough times that he knows he's welcome to it. He doesn't even have to ask, he can just use it whenever he needs it.
And then it hit me. Johnny is proud.
He doesn't want to feel like he's getting a handout. Never wants to overstay his welcome. He reminds me of Darry in that way. Their last resource is asking for help. Doesn't matter how big or small the problem is. They won't ask. He doesn't like to eat over too many days in a row either. I guess he figures we got enough mouths to feed. He's the first to lend an ear to anyone's problems, just as long as he can deflect his own.
Sometimes I find myself hugging him longer than necessary. The boys will be leaving and I'll demand a hug. Darry's arms will engulf me. Two-bit always manages to pick me up just a little. Steve's is always one-armed and quick. (He gave up trying to refuse my hugs a long time ago). Dally's are like Steve's. One armed. Only his is around my shoulder, not my waist. And Johnny's. His are always a little awkward. He doesn't like to be touched on his best days, and there I am invading his personal space. He'll let me hug him, but he never really hugs me back. He'll lean into it. His hands always seem to find their way into his pockets. But that's fine. I believe he likes them fine enough. Just shy is all.
"The couch is there if you need it. Sleep well Johnnycake." He was still looking down, but he smiled. I never really call him by his nickname, and honestly it kind of just slipped out.
Johnny is one of those people you want to see smile. Partly to see if they can, and partly because they deserve to be happy. I went in. Walked back to my room and waited. Several minutes later I heard a small shuffling noise. I knew he would be safe for at least this night. I went to sleep smiling.