I've stepped out of my comfort zone with this one, especially since it has very mild sexual reference, and I won't lie and say I'm used to that :P Anyways, read, review, and enjoy. :)
"Boy oh boy," Pony groaned to himself. "It's raining cats and dogs outside."
And it was. The springtime sky turned a violent shade of purple, although it was fairly early in the evening, and the rain was falling in thick clumps, splattering against grass and the sidewalk beyond the fence. A couple of poor squirrels were sloshing through the small patch of grass in the backyard, scurrying for safety in their home tree.
Pony took a sip of his tea and sighed deeply. He had actually been in a fairly good mood for the past couple months, despite the loss of his best friend, Johnny, and then Dally, who followed after. The essay he wrote for English slicked by with an A plus, and his teacher was seriously considering pulling it through with a publisher. Pony had never been so elated in his life.
But it was the moments like these, the dark, gray, cloudy ones, that made Pony want to crawl in a hole and wrap into a little ball. Why should he feel happy anymore? How could he not feel guilty? In truth, everything that happened to Dally and Johnny was his own fault. If he hadn't woken up Johnnycake from the lot…perhaps Pony would've just died himself…but then again, Pony didn't want to die, honestly…he couldn't imagine life without, well, life…
He shook his head, confusion overwhelming him to the point where he needed to stop thinking all together.
All of a sudden, a hard knock on the door sent him jumping, and some of his tea lapped out of the cup and dribbled onto his white tee, the one that was Darry's. Pony sighed, placed down his cup, and wondered who on earth could be outside in this weather. Seeing as neither Soda nor Darry were home, Pony ran to get the door.
When he opened it, what he saw was very surprising. There was a girl, who was fairly small in her size, but despite her youthful appearance, her brown eyes showed the wisdom of someone who had experience in life, good and bad. Her peachy skin was dripping with rainwater and the dark brown hair visible from under the large hood of her neon raincoat was matted and stuck to her head.
"You must be Ponyboy Curtis!" she called from the roar of the rain.
Ponyboy nodded. He could see that she was freezing—her knees were wobbling and her teeth were shivering—so he let her inside. She was a woman, after all, and to be honest, they couldn't cause too much trouble. Besides, she must've known him.
She stepped inside and slipped out of her rain boots, thanking Ponyboy in a soft voice as he closed the door behind them.
"Do you want me to take your raincoat?" he asked politely. She hesitated for a moment, and then nodded and turned around. He helped her shake out of her coat before hanging it up on the hook to dry.
When he turned around, his eyebrows rose in surprise. The girl was in black tights and a long, floaty pink dress with a huge ribbon at the neck. But that wasn't what surprised him, not at all. It was what was showing under the dress—a huge belly bump. She was pregnant.
Despite the fact that she only looked a year or two older than Pony, he said nothing about it, and instead, went into the bathroom to find her a towel to dry her face and skin. When he came back and handed it to her, she grinned at him, almost looking proud.
"Oh, Pony," she said softly, and then without warning, put her cold, wet hands on each side of his face and sweetly kissed his forehead. Her lips were wet, and her belly was pressed against his. He felt his cheeks simmer and he was positive that he was steaming of the rain that she had gotten on his skin. "You're exactly how I pictured you to look!"
Pony furrowed his eyebrows, seeing as he had no idea who this girl was. She moved back, dabbing at her face and scruffing her wet curly hair with the towel, all while admiring the tiny house. "Wow, this is really clean."
"Um, w-who are you?" he managed to stutter out.
She froze, as if he'd said something mean. And then slowly, very slowly, she turned to face him. She managed a smile, but it looked forced, and her eyes were deep with pain. "Oh, me? I—I'm, uh, Jane."
"Jane…?" Pony repeated, trying to remember anyone he knew with that name. He knew a couple of girls, but this Jane wasn't them.
"Jane Radisson," she said, "but you don't know me. I was—well, I was—" she groaned, not being able to spit out whatever it was she was trying to say. "I was…friends with Johnny. Johnny Cade."
"Oh," Pony said quietly. Johnny's friend? Pony never met her. Maybe the rest of the gang did?
"Where is he, by the way?"
"Huh?" Jane had interrupted Pony's thoughts, and as per usual, he didn't catch what she'd said.
"Where is he?" she repeated, sounding almost a little nervous. Pony blinked. Where's who?
"You know…Johnny?" Jane said, reading Pony's confusion.
"Oh!" Pony felt his palms go sweaty. She didn't know Johnny died last fall? How was he going to tell her? "He—he's—"
"PONYBOY, WHY'D YOU LOCK THIS DOOR?"
Both Jane and Pony jumped. Pony was glad to hear Sodapop's voice, despite that it was a little annoyed, because it saved him from breaking the news to Jane and having to deal with the emotional trauma of it all. He hated emotional situations, actually.
He quickly unlocked the door and let a sopping-wet Soda, who tussled Pony's hair. "Hey, kid, I'm so stupid, I forgot my wallet! Man, is it raining out there! There's a storm tonight, do you know? And why'd you lock the door, were you scared or somethin'?"
Pony didn't say anything, and he waited for when Soda would notice Jane. When he did, his grin faltered a little as he stared at her and looked further down to her belly. Pony knew from the look on Soda's face that Soda had no idea about this girl either.
"Uh, Pony, who's this?" he asked quietly, his eyes glued to her belly as if in it were a bomb, and Pony knew Soda was probably thinking Pony had been the one to implant it.
Pony said hurriedly, "This is Johnny's friend, Jane Radisson."
Jane grinned. "You must be Sodapop, right? Johnny used to talk about you a lot."
Soda gazed at her face curiously. "Jane…you know Johnny?"
Jane nodded. "Why yes, I do, actually."
Soda sighed and looked at the floor. "It's too bad, you know? He was a good kid. I didn't know he had himself a friend, though! Johnny was never one to talk to girls."
Pony mentally slapped his forehead. Soda had said too much. Jane's eyes widened and her face scrunched in a puzzled expression. "What do you mean, 'was'?"
Soda gave her a funny look. "What do you mean, 'what do I mean'?"
"Sodapop," warned Pony, "your boss is going to be mad at you if you stay too long. Now get goin'."
Soda saw Pony's worried face. He shook his head, went to grab his wallet, bade goodbye to Jane, and was hustled out of the house by Pony. Pony closed the door quietly behind them and turned to face Jane, who had her hands on her hip, looking very suspicious.
"What's going on?" she asked, her voice hitching up. "What aren't you telling me?"
Pony sighed and sat down on the couch, flipping off the television. Jane sat next to him, her hands folded in her lap, her feet drumming up a nervous beat. "Speak, Ponyboy. Tell me the truth!"
Pony sighed again. "In the fall…Johnny, Dallas and I went out to go watch a movie…"
He told her the whole story, leaving out some of the less important parts (like exactly how good looking that Cherry Valance was) and the gruesome ones (like the blood on the knife and how hot the fire was when it kissed their skins). All the while, he was afraid of two things: one being that horrid look painted across Jane's face, with the months of pain she didn't know of welling in her eyes and dripping down her face that made him want to stop talking and two, how hormonal she would probably be if he did stop talking.
He finished off the story, and when he was done, she stared at him blankly, muttering the last words of the little story, her hand stroking her belly gently. Something was wrong.
"J-Jane?" Pony began timidly.
"So he's dead," she breathed out. "He's really dead."
Pony nodded, swallowing hard, waiting for the worst to happen. And then suddenly, she smiled at him, wiping her eyes. He gave her a funny look—and before he knew it, she'd started bawling like a little baby, pulling her feet up as close as she could with her big belly and holding onto her legs as if they were the world.
Pony didn't know what to do. He didn't like seeing girls cry. And the way Jane was holding her legs made him feel like she wanted someone to hug her. He let out a sigh and shyly pulled her arms away from her legs, and when they fell, he hugged her instead. She didn't seem to mind, and she sobbed harder on his shoulder, soaking his shirt to the point where he could feel her tears and other stuff seeping through. It was awkward, yes, and Pony had never really consoled girls before, but he guessed he was doing an okay job, because soon, she stopped her crying.
When they pulled away, Pony handed her a tissue, which she took gingerly and blew her nose.
"Thanks," she mumbled. A minute passed by, where neither of them said anything. Pony could hear the clock ticking on the wall.
"Um, Jane?" he asked quietly, finally breaking the silence. She looked at him, letting him know she was listening.
"Where—well, who exactly are you? And I don't mean your name—I mean, who are you?"
She smiled and let out a little laugh, which was kind of a cross between a sob. "Well, I'll be seventeen in a couple of weeks, if that's what you're asking. I used to live around in Tulsa. I got home-schooled most of my life, and I still am. I—well, this little bundle"—she rubbed her stomach—"came along a little early, and I left for an unwed mothers' home. But—but I hated it there. And I ran away, back here, in Tulsa, because I needed to find…" she trailed off.
"What?" Pony persisted quietly. "What did you need to find? Who did you need to find?"
"I needed to find Johnny," she said softly, and said no more. Pony knew he was missing something—some link between her story—but he didn't use his head to connect it. So instead, he asked, "How did you know him? Johnny, I mean?"
She sighed deeply and shut her eyes real tight. "We met three years ago. I had just gotten hollered at my parents for being a shame to women all over…and boy, did it hurt something awful…
"I remember how I threw on my jacket and plugged my ears as I stomped down the stairs, the old salty tears whipping my face. I could hear my parents' muffled shouts, and I felt so pathetic. No, I wasn't being abused. They weren't doing anything wrong. But it hurt all the more. I mean, what's worse—knowing they're wrong or knowing they're right? And I knew I did something wrong. I didn't clean the house. I never cleaned the house. I hated cleaning, and I was always too lazy to do it. It wasn't so much of a big deal at first, but over time, my laziness added up. My mom kept bagging on me for never being able to be a good wife. My dad said the same thing. And it hurt, because everything they were saying was true."
Pony swallowed. He knew the feeling, alright. He'd felt it almost every day with Darry. But that was ages ago. Jane slapped her leg.
"Pony, if you pulled a camera out on my past, you'd see nearly once a week, I'd storm randomly out the house, my eyes burning a dark color and my face twisted as ugly as ever. That's how I looked when I cried. But I'd never cried so hard in my life. Not until that day.
"I tried to cheer myself up. I mean, it was almost Christmas! The snow would soon be falling! But how could I pretend to be happy when I really wasn't? I was disgusted with myself; disgusted for being so lazy. I just wanted to start all over again, with my life, I mean, right from scratch, so I could fill in the spots that were missing. I won't lie and say I never was an inch close to suicide. I won't lie and say I wasn't right there, with the knife in my hands, with tears on my face, with the only line separating me from life and death was my fear of pain. I had been there, I had done that, and it was all the more reasons to be sick with myself."
She sighed deeply. "So to cheer myself up, I went for an ice cream. I ate a couple. You know, Dairy Queen, they've always had the best. And I remember sitting on the bench. And there was this greaser guy there. A little short, looked pretty young, with wisdom in his eyes. He was quiet, but he looked like someone was about to walk through the door and kill him. I asked him what was wrong, and he just started stuttering all funny. Before I could talk to him, this man came through the door, started hollering real loud for some Johnny Cade. That man, I soon learned, was Johnny's dad. He caught sight of the boy next to me, grabbed him by the ear, swearing red and blue, and pulled him out the door. I was so worried but curious. I told my parents, of course, but they didn't really care. Thought I was getting my facts mixed up.
"A couple of days later, I spotted the kid back again after school at the library, where I vountenteered. He looked awful, Pony. His eye was swollen and bruises lined his forearms when he took off his jacket. I was really scared. I went up to him and asked him what happened with his eye, and he told me he didn't want to talk about it.
"I don't take stepping-back too well, so I persisted. Eventually, after promising I was a good person, he told me a little about himself. Just a little, and that was all. But each day added up. This was how it went. Every Thursday, for the next six months of school, he talked and I listened. He told me about his fear of the Socs and his friends—you all."
Pony blinked, and for a vague second, he began imagining what things Johnny said about him. Jane suddenly began grinning.
"You know, Pony? I think that was the first time I actually listened to anyone I wasn't required to listen to. Usually I'm so impatient when it comes to listening, but boy, did Johnny Cade have a story to tell. Made me want to cry. I'm middle-class, but I'm not too familiar with the problems on both sides. Johnny helped me see some of that."
Her smile faltered.
"A-And then…sometime during the last day of school…I caught Johnny in the back of the school yard with a knife in his hands. He looked like he'd been crying day and night, and when I saw him with the knife only a few inches away from his wrists, I instantly freaked out. Who wouldn't? It shocked me to think Johnny had contemplated suicide. It scared me, too."
Pony's eyes widened. When did this happen? How come I was never told about this? Did Johnny think that the love he was getting from the gang wasn't enough to keep him going? "W-what happened?"
"I wanted to run and tackle him and push the knife away, but I was afraid he would only kill himself quicker. So instead I gently consoled him. And pretty soon, he started crying really hard, telling me that his father had gone a little too far and had beaten him with a plank, and all the while, he'd spat down on Johnny and cursed at him for being a burden to the family, nothing but a piece of crap, and a load of things more worse. He said it wasn't the pain he couldn't handle, it was the emotional trauma. Soon, Johnny dropped the knife, saying he was too much of a coward to kill himself anyway, and then, when he calmed down a bit, he started blushing really bad, saying he was embarrassed for crying in front of a girl.
"Lots of months passed by—some of the best months of my life. Johnny was my best friend. I mean it. Most best friends aren't anywhere near friends, but Johnny and I, we were really close.
"And then what we predicted happened. That moment in the movies when you realize someone was made for you? That became reality to me. I loved him, Pony. I realized I really, truly loved him. And I was only sixteen! But this was a calling from God. I loved him. I loved him with all of my heart."
Pony could only blink.
"And yet, some days after my epiphany, I learned that Johnny had been beaten by some dumb Socs. I was torn because he didn't tell me until a week after. He actually didn't tell me much, but everything was written there, right in his eyes, right over his bruises and cuts. You better believe I was furious when I learned it. I wanted to kill the Socs that did that to him, chop them into pieces, but I couldn't!" She let out a sob and dropped her head. "I couldn't, and it hurt me more than anything else."
Pony waited for her to continue. She wiped away a few stray tears and looked at him in his eyes.
"You and your gang were good to Johnny, Ponyboy. You always protected him ever since. It made him feel better, yes, but it also made him feel jealous. He told me, Pony, that he was jealous."
"Of what?" Pony asked, taken off-guard. Johnny? Jealous?
"Of you," Jane replied. Pony couldn't say anything, but he suddenly grew very angry. "You and your brothers, you all had everything and knew about everything Johnny never even got to touch. The three forms of love, I mean. Nurturing from a mother. Pride from a father. Affection from…" Jane suddenly blushed. "But yes. He wasn't mad or anything, and he still loved all of you, but he felt like he was inferior to all of you."
"You're lying!" Pony suddenly shouted, before he could stop himself. Jane looked at him square in the eye, not even flinching in surprise.
"Didn't you ever wonder why Johnny worshipped Dallas Winston?"
Pony, embarrassed about his outburst, shook his head. Thunder rolled up ahead.
"The only thing that kept him from feeling bad was someone who had it worse than him. And that would be Dallas. Johnny loved Dallas, more like a God than a friend! And he was equal, maybe a little better off, than Dallas."
And Dally worshipped Johnny, too, Pony thought. It kind of connected now.
"But Johnny," continued Jane, "thought that he was the baby of you all, always tagging along and being protected. He hated not being balanced. He hated having to be sheltered. He wanted to be something better, something more useful, something more like a hero and less like an endangered bird. But he didn't know, at the time, how to change himself. And it bugged him so much-thinking that he really was a burden on everyone, including you all—that one night, he tried to kill himself. Again. He was serious that time. He even left me a good-bye letter. That was the anniversary of my parents, so they were out for the night, and I was left without any help to turn to. I was so surprised, I ran to where he said they'd find his body, somewhere in a patch of trees—but he wasn't there! I didn't know what to do! I didn't want to call the cops—they'd make such a big mess out of everything. I ran around, that night, searching for Johnny. I found him soon, too, wedged between a lonesome ally, crying. It killed me to see him that way. It killed me to think I wasn't enough for him to keep living. I was angry. I didn't console him. I shouted at him, I threw things at him; that's how angry I was. Then, when I was finished, I ran to my empty home. He followed me. I confessed my love between my shouts. Then, after calming down a bit, I realized what I'd said. He realized what I said. I remember how we were both like mirrors, staring at each other from across the room with the same blank, confused expression. And then I remember, running up to him and hugging him, which caught him by surprise, and telling him I was sorry I couldn't do anything to help. I told him how I was stuck in that rut with my own 'rents, how I was afraid of my own self. And we became, just like him and Dallas Winston, equals. Both with grieves beyond the horizon we could see. Both alone, fighting for ourselves. Both alone, with—with love for each other."
She covered her hands in her face as if she was ashamed of something. Pony's throat became dry. He never knew any of this. Was it possible Jane was lying? No, her eyes spoke the truth.
She said nothing for a long time. After three minutes, Pony nudged her gently. "Jane?"
She suddenly blurted out from behind her hands, "You must understand that at the time, it felt like the right thing to do."
Pony was confused. He blinked. "…Sorry?"
Jane peeked through her fingers, one bloodshot eye gazing at him. "What we did, Pony. You must realize that it felt alright at the time. Maybe it was alright."
Pony just stared at her. Is she crazy? What is she talking about?
Impatiently, Jane said hurriedly, "I don't know why we did it, Ponyboy. Maybe Johnny was sick of being the pet. Maybe I was sick of being useless. I don't know!" She wiped her tears quickly with the back of her hand. "But we thought it was the right thing."
Pony was still lost. Jane started crying, and he felt like it was his fault. He was sorry, but he had no idea what she was talking about. He needed more explanations.
As if reading his mind, Jane looked up at him instantly as lightning illuminated the late sky. "Pony…?" She patted her stomach and mumbled something so quietly that he didn't catch it.
But he didn't need to. He understood now. His entire face to the tips of his ears went red. "Oh. Oh…"
He didn't know what to think, much less what to say. Sure, he was used to hearing about it—his own brother wasn't an innocent, after all, and neither was half of the gang, but Johnny? He couldn't believe that Johnny of all people—sweet, innocent, big-eyed Johnnycake—could even talk to girls. Johnnycake was never open around them, not at school or on the streets, and he didn't even find the joy in teasing most of them. And he'd had his little spoonfuls of attention here and there, like with Sylvia, but that was usually as far as it got. Never did he think Johnny was capable of…Pony got redder at the thought. He gave Jane a surprised look, and she caught it. It was now her turn to blush.
"Yeah," she finished quietly. She said nothing more.
Pony mustered up all of his courage and asked, "And you got…pregnant?"
Jane blushed harder now, and Pony knew he was pestering her, but Johnny was his friend and he wanted to know. "No, Pony, not right away. But a-after a couple of times…yes, I did."
Pony simmered and he said nothing more. Jane suddenly turned to him with pleading eyes.
"Don't think I'm one of those cheap kind of girls," she said in a high tone. "I'm not. But I really loved Johnny. I'll be honest with you, usually moments like those are supposed to be enjoyable. But for us, it always ended sad, almost hopeless. I mean, it sure felt good...yet... it was never happy. But it was as close as we could get."
"So you used him?" Pony asked bitterly, and Jane shook her head quickly.
"No, never!" she gasped. "But even our love couldn't bring back the pain, for both of us…And it was a shame because we were expressing our golden, pure love, in one of the most sinful manners. I—I—"
She started crying again, and Pony felt bad for her. He patted her hand softly. Now he knew how Sandy must've felt. "Jane, it's okay, I understand."
She looked up at him with thankful eyes, and then suddenly, between her tears, cracked a grin. "Boy, you do understand everything."
Pony managed a small smile.
"So," continued Jane, wiping her eyes. "I started getting sick every morning and I knew things were going bad. I loped around to the doc's office one day after school and I found out the news. I couldn't believe it. I was happy, but I was scared because I knew my parents would skin me alive. So I didn't tell Johnny. I figured he had enough problems to worry about. Instead, I ran away to an unwed mother's home somewhere in Arkansas. My parents heard the news, obviously, but they never came looking for me or anything, so I was left at the home for a couple of months. I met a couple of girls my age, each with a story to tell. They told me to run away back to Tulsa and find Johnny Cade and tell him—tell him that he was going to be a f-father…" Jane's voice cracked. "With the help of some hitchhikers, I made it back here in Tulsa. I went to Johnny's house—but it was abandoned. I snooped through a bit. I found this."
She pulled out a folded piece of paper from the pocket of her maternity dress and unfolded it tenderly, showing it to Ponyboy. It was a poor drawing of some stick figures, labeled with bad spelling. Pony smiled instantly. Johnny had drawn the gang, all in front of a house that was labeled with Pony's address.
"That's how I came here," Jane said softly. She handed the paper to Ponyboy. "Here. Keep it."
Ponyboy accepted it. He looked at Jane thoughtfully. "I'm really sorry, Jane. I never knew Johnny had a girl."
"Naw, it's alright, I guess," she replied in a relieved breath. "Boy, did it feel good to get all of that out. I'm still a little sad, though, to think that this baby here is going to grow up without a father…" She stood up suddenly and took an apple from the little table in front of the television, pocketing it.
"Where're you going?" Pony asked her quickly.
"Back to my home," she responded, slipping her feet in her shoes.
"Your parents?"
"Oh, no," Jane said with a grin. "They've moved, I can't find them. I'm going back to the unwed mothers' home."
"W-why?" he asked her, bewildered.
"I don't got a reason to be here in Tulsa anymore," she told him. "There's no place for me. I'd best get back to my friends."
Pony felt a little hurt. "You could stay here with us—our family, I mean. I'm pretty sure any girl of Johnny's is welcome here."
Jane raised her eyebrows, and Pony added on, "I mean, Soda's always wanted to take care of a kid, and I guess he could help. Darry would be okay with it, I think. I'm okay with it."
Jane shook her head sadly. "You don't need another two mouths to feed, Pony. I'm heading back in the country. I'll give birth to the baby there. I won't send it for adoption, though. I've already lost Johnny—I don't think I can manage losing this baby. They'll help me take care of it. And then—then I'll be back. Just let me stand on my own two feet for awhile. I'd hate to bug you all."
Pony wanted to protest, but he could tell Jane had closed the discussion. She was about to pull on her raincoat when he suddenly had an idea. "Jane—wait!"
She paused. Pony ran into his room, yanked open his closet, and pulled out Johnny's denim jacket, the only one Johnny ever had. He ran back. Jane saw him with it and gasped a little.
"For you," Pony breathed out, holding it out.
Jane shook her head. "Pony I—"
"I think Johnny would've liked you to have it."
Jane grinned between tears and slipped it on. It was stained with some blood and it was a little big, but the way she closed her eyes in bliss made Pony know that she was now in utter peace. He opened the door for her and she waddled her way out. Outside, he saw, the storm had miraculously cleared up and it was beautiful. Just before leaving out the door fully, she turned around, stood on her tippy-toes, and gave Pony a sweet kiss, right on his nose.
"Stay gold, Ponyboy" she whispered in his ear, and then left the house.
Pony watched her go in amazement. How she knew Johnny's last words to him, he would never know. Maybe that's why she and Johnny fell in love; they both knew each other so well.
He watched her vanish down the street, under the cerulean sky. There, amiss the clouds, was a rainbow bridge as high as the sky. That was the promising road that linked there paths. It was truth that she'd be back, with her kid. With Johnny's kid. Pony grinned.
He could hardly wait.
FIN