Johnny's Wish
There aren't any Greasers in this town that I can see, no Socs. But maybe, like so many others, I see only what I wish to see as I try to honor my best and youthfully deceased friend Johnny Cade's last wish.
Johnny wanted a place with no Greasers, and no Socs. Johnny wanted a place of peace. But just because I can't see them doesn't mean they aren't here. Sure, there are the nicely dressed kids, with sharp hair cuts, and the look of being well cared for, adored even. Then there are the kids with the tattered clothing and everything about them screaming "Dangerous!". But, their hair isn't sleeked back as was the style worn ten years ago. I suppose the titles of "Greaser" and "Soc" aren't used any longer. Greasers and Socs have died with the sixties, by the looks of it.
I suppose I had misunderstood what Johnny had meant. Maybe he wasn't really talking about "Greasers" and "Socs" but of a town being separate, instead of one big community. Of a town having its inhabitants turn against each other, prejudicing each other before even getting the chance to meet and figure out what was really there. Johnny wanted a place where none of the above existed.
I suddenly feel sad because I know I can abandon my search. People, I think, are weird in a sense that they need the conflict and drama in their lives. They can't always live with everything 'Lovey-dovey". I often find myself wondering why people can't just all get along. But, that is a question I doubt I will ever find the answer to. Johnny, your wish is seemingly impossible to me! There are simply too many people with too many different opinions and ideas. Maybe if I find a small enough town, Johnny, then the disagreements will be smaller…but I cannot force Sodapop and Darry to move on my behalf.
We simply don't have enough money at the moment to afford another house, and for
Darry to quit his job would be unmanageable, seeing as we always have to have a half- empty fridge (no thanks to Two-Bit) and believe me when I say that a half empty fridge isn't enough for three men to live off. Our house has had an addition put on it, creating a sort of "family room" where all of our old - timed friends come and we play games and smoke and the older ones like Two-Bit and Darry and Soda have a drink.
I enjoy these so called "Family" moments, because that's just how we feel. Like a family, understanding and caring for each other, and it's also the sense that everything we went through ten years back, we all went through it together, so it's never one man standing alone. The other reason I enjoy the family room is because it helps me take my mind off things. Things that I can hardly even speak to Soda of?, my closest brother and best friend in the world to. Things like Johnny's death, and Dallas's. I know people have a habit of saying that 'time heals all wounds' and it's partly true. I have managed to move on, and I don't cry every night as Johnny's face swims in my memory, but it doesn't mean I have forgotten them. I still think of my comrades on daily occurrences, but I don't have the acute and horrid pain in my heart like I used to.
Now there's just…regret, I guess, and emptiness, like a shell. Time doesn't heal all wounds, it just obscures them.
Time gives you space to think things over, and time hides the part of you that is still broken and shriveled from the part of you that would make you loose all control again, make it seem like the first day you got hurt again, and it brings out the braveness you hold. It brought out the braveness in me, and that's how I moved on. I know Soda had a tough time with it at first, moping and staying in his room for days at a time the first months. But he came out eventually, returning his warm smile and kind humor to us.
Darry is different, he doesn't like showing his weaknesses, and he acts tough, partly to fulfill his role as 'man of the house', partly to show that nothing can tough him. But I know him better than he thinks I do. I know that inside, he suffered just as much as Two-Bit, or Soda, and that he lets it out on those longs walks on sunny days through the thick wood behind our house that he insists on taking alone. I would never mention my knowledge to him though, I could easily shatter his carefully constructed disguise, as could anyone to any of ours.
Cherry hangs around our place on weekends, and sometimes after school, when she can get away from her house. She puts on the impression that everything is fine, but I know that things aren't great at her house either. Her parents decided to separate three weeks ago, and her mother isn't doing well at all, spending most of her time locked in her room sobbing. Cherry told me at school today that she would come over possibly later this afternoon if her mother didn't need her to run errands.
I walk into the 'family room' and see Soda watching the old black and white television, frustrated because the reception is bad. The image is fuzzy and I don't usually watch much television because the waving of it makes me dizzy. Darry is sitting at the table, a series of papers scattered out randomly in front of him. He has a pencil behind his ear, and a pen in his hand, and his brow is furrowed. I can tell he's working hard because his lips mouth the numbers he's calculating.
"Hey," I say, greeting them and letting them know of my arrival, they are both so immersed in work and television that I doubt either of them have noticed my entrance.
Darry grunts in return, holding up a hand to silence me, as if the slightest distraction could put his complex calculations and counting back to zero.
"Hi, Pony," Says Sodapop casually, not once moving his eyes from the television screen.
"Cherry said she might stop by," I said, trying to make conversation with my brothers.
"Did she? How's her mom?" Soda was interested, at least he pretended to be, never ungluing his eyes from the screen.
"I think she's doing alright, actually, apart from the crying. Cherry said that she comes down for meals now, and it's an improvement from last week."
"I suppose, but you can't say it's perfect yet, can you?"
"Nope."
I plunk down on the couch beside Soda. Darry shoots me a glare for talking and distracting him. I give him an apologetic glance in return.
"What are you watching?" I ask, only mildly interested my the fuzzy white shapes moving on the screen.
"King Kong, and it's the most recent version. The first one was better, if you ask me, but we only ever get one channel and since Darry here doesn't want us talking…" Soda tails off, grinning at his brother.
The phone rings and it is my fist reaction to jump up and answer it, I know it's Cherry. But I wait until the third ring to get up and slumber over to the receiver, to make Soda and Darry believe that I wasn't expecting a call. Who knew the kind of teasing I would get after they decided that I was anxious to get calls from Cherry.
"Hello?" I answer, keeping any excitement out of my voice.
"Hey, Ponyboy, it's Cherry here."
"Oh, hi, Cherry," I feign the dull tone of my voice.
"My mom says I'm free to go and do as I please, and I was wondering, well…"
"Yes?" I ask, abandoning all pretence. Darry shoots me a curious look. Oh, boy.
"If you wanted to go see a movie tonight…. with me, I mean."
"Oh, that'd be great, Cherry. Is there anything good playing?" I ask, hoping indeed that King Kong was off the screen. At least the movie theater screen was better quality than the junkie one we owned.
"I was thinking we could watch…Gone With The Wind…"
I freeze. Has my heart really stopped beating? I am still as memories of Johnny and I reading that book aloud to each other in the church flooded my mind. But no one can know about our time in the church. Especially not Cherry; not yet.
"Pony?" Cherry asks, calling me back from somewhere deep in my mind.
"What? Oh, yeah…um…Gone with The Wind…Sure."
"Pony? Oh, Pony, I'm sorry - I forgot…"
"No, Cherry," I reassure her, but the pain in my heart doesn't fade. "I'm okay. I'll pick you up at seven thirty."
"Oh, um, alright, bye Pony."
"Bye, Cherry." I hang up and turn to go to my room.
"Who was that, Pony?" Darry teases, as expected.
"Cherry," I reply, trying to act perfectly at ease.
"And?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"We're going to the movies together tonight." I turn and walk to my room, my cheeks flushing in fresh embarrassment at this revelation. Behind me, still in the family room, I hear Darry calling for me to come back, and I hear Soda clapping his hands together dramatically. Through the teasing, I know they are happy for me.
I take deep, slow, breaths to calm myself and the knot in my heart slowly unravels.
Then, I realized something as I sat on my bed, remembering Johnny. People don't decide for you how much hate is in your life. There will always be fighting, and always be disagreements, but the real difference is how you choose to deal with it, and it is you, and only you, that can decide for yourself between right, and wrong.
Johnny, if you're listening, I found you a special place. A place where I promise no one will ever be judged or treated unfairly, and where there will not be room for hate. No war, and no fighting.
It's in my heart, Johnny, where you'll always be remembered.