Release

It was a constant cycle, day in and day out. It never changed. It never got any better and it never got any worse. I guess I should be thankful. No progress was better than bad progress. Johnny had made it through the surgery well and yet he remained in the hospital for another two weeks. There were a few minor complications that held him back from returning home. Not that there was much of a home for him to return to.

I remember with disgust when his father came in to the hospital drunk the night that Johnny first arrived. It was about two in the morning and he was hollering like there was no tomorrow. Darry almost put him in his place. I have never seen him so mad. He grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall. Dally stopped him though. The gang knew that as terrible as Johnny's parents were, they were still the only ones that Johnny had. It would hurt the kid to see his parents hurt.

I huffed. I thought about my own alcoholic old man and knew that I would have no problem if Darry wanted to knock him around a good bit.

Johnny and I were different, that was for sure. He was better. He felt more. I felt nothing at all.

The gang and I had set up a visiting schedule over the passing days. The nurses began to grow tired of ushering us all in and out of his room. They set a limit and told us three at the maximum during visiting hours. I would always go with Steve and Sodapop. The rest would go together or separate.

It didn't matter which day or how many of us showed up. We made sure that no matter what, that boy was never alone. He would constantly tell us to go home and get some rest. Yet I knew by the look on his face, that he was thankful for the company.

During those two weeks I had decided to start going back and sleeping at my house each night. I just felt like I shouldn't have been an added responsibility for Darry to handle. He had so much going on in his life, at such a young age. He didn't need me there as well. He was just had too kind of a heart to say no to anyone. Especially not if it meant that they would be worse off. Yet I was not worse off. I had a home. There was no reason that he should have to pay for my meals, wash my laundry, and provide a place for me to stay every single night. I wasn't an extra child. I had a home. I just hated it.

After observing the life that Johhnny lived, I knew that I should be thankful for what I had. Even though it was clear that my father did not want me, he still allowed me to enter and exit the house. We hadn't had a physical confrontation since the first one and for that I was truly thankful. Yet each night when he came in drunk, I was weary and on my guard. I was ready to take flight at any moment. I believe that he had learned his lesson or maybe I just wasn't around enough to annoy him. I snuck in at night and I left early in the morning.

This morning wasn't any different. I was heading to pick up the boys from work. Steve Randal hated me with a deep passion, but golly did he love my new Pontiac GTO, as I pulled up in to the gas station for the first time. His eyes grew wide as he whistled. I half expected to see drool running down his chin. He walked over and slowly ran his hands along the right side. He only grazed it gently as if it was a precious commodity, not to be harmed. Then he glared up in my direction as if he would spit on me.

I was half tempted to just hand him over the keys. I would have if it wasn't my only form of transportation around town. It was nothing more than a tool to me. It signified my old life, the half life that I had lived before I had known Sodapop.

That night I had dropped Soda and Steve off at the Curtis house and entered early enough to find my father and Ruth sitting on the couch. She was giggling like a little school child and he had his hand on her upper thigh. Ruth looked up as I entered and smiled.

I wasn't sure if i smiled back or not. I just turned and looked in to the kitchen and back to the pair. I was trying to think of something to say to break the awkward silence. "Did you two eat dinner yet?"

"No. We just got in," Ruth said with a smirk.

"I was going to make myself something to eat, would you like some spaghetti and meatballs?"

My father didn't speak. He looked over at Ruth who shrugged her shoulders as if she didn't care and then he turned to me with a nod of his head to signify his answer.

I dallied in the kitchen for as long as possible before the meal was finished and set up the dining room table that hadn't been used in three months.

When we all three sat down, I cringed at the tension. She was sitting in my mothers seat. The new pair were staring in to each others eyes happily, smiling and laughing at their inside jokes. I remained silent at the other end of the table. All you could hear was the scraping of my silverware against the plate. I was startled when my father spoke to me.

"So tell me about this boy that you have been seeing."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

I thought long and hard about what to say. Finally I decided on the truth. "He's wonderful."

It was brief and to the point.

"When will I get to meet his parents?"

I almost choked as the question escaped his lips. I looked up to find a strange gleam in his eyes that I did not understand. I took a deep breath and answered. "He doesn't have any parents. They passed away a few months ago. He now lives with his two brothers."

"Hmm..." my father said. "That will do perfectly." There was a sense of satisfaction in his voice.

I wanted to ask what he meant by that and yet I refrained. Something odd was going on and I knew that whatever it was, I didn't want to know. No more words were spoken the entire night. I cleaned off the table and did the dishes before I went to bed.

I spent the entire night tossing and turning. Lately I had been having terrible nightmares. I was in a dark forest, surrounded by trees. I could hear Johnny screaming in the distance, someone was hurting him. I kept running, trying to find my way out. Suddenly I saw a light up ahead and I ran towards it. The moment I stepped out in to the light I heard a loud piercing car horn and woke up sweating.

This morning I was dressed and showered before noon. I threw my sweater on as I ran out the door and headed over to the hospital. Johnny was finally getting released.

On the drive over I began to recall the night when Johnny was first attacked. I could still feel those hours that felt like days, sitting there in the waiting room watching as the doctors and other patients walked in and out. Yet we still had no news on Johnny's condition. Every moment that went by I became more and more concerned. Why was it taking so long?

Soda had his hand on my own and the softness of his touch warmed my heart a bit. Yet I was still shaking from the whole experience and tried to stop my mind from returning to the horrific scene. It always seemed to me that the worst things in life happen to the people who deserve it the least. The situation with Johnny was just another example.

The sky outside was getting dark and I could see the street lamps yellow glow reflecting off the hospital window. Even though it was late the only one that was capable of sleeping was Twobit because he still had a hangover from earlier that morning. I was laying in an uncomfortable position with my head on Sodapop's chest and I could hear his soft heartbeat in my ear.

Finally four hours after the surgery began a doctor entered the waiting room and Darry stood up to talk to him. Dally shook Twobit awake and we all sat up intently waiting upon the outcome and condition of our friend. The doctor was speaking too low for any of us to hear but by the look on Darry's face, I knew that Johnny was alright.

A deep wave a relief washed over me and I wrapped my arms tightly around Soda's chest. After the doctor had finished talking, Darry walked over to our group with a bright smile on his face. "The doctor said Johnny is going to be fine."

Twobit made a loud noise and began jumping around the room. I watched as Ponyboy let out the deep breath that he had been holding the entire time. At first the doctor said that only family was aloud in to see him but then I think he realized that we were the closest thing to family that Johnny had.

A couple of minutes went by and finally they said that he was ready to have visitors. We all ran to the door. When we burst inside, Twobit went falling to the floor and Johnny sat up in his bed laughing. Then he cringed from the pain. Golly I knew the feeling. My own ribs were still aching terribly. Yet as I stared closer at Johnnys face, I could see that there was something missing. He looked lost and confused, like a kid trying to make the best out of a hopeless situation.

"How ya doin kid?" Darry said as he walked over and ruffled his dark black hair.

Johnny didn't answer he just shrugged his shoulders. I knew that he wouldn't be the same for a long time. If ever. I think the fact that he came so close to dying scared him more than anything else in his life. Which was a lot to say considering the hell his parents put him through.

So for the rest of the night we just sat around in the room and talked about everything other than what had happened. I laughed along with the boys even though my mind was somewhere else. I stared up at Johnny and wondered how he was dealing with everything that had happened. I wanted to thank for him hiding me. He put his self in danger to protect me from harm. I could never repay him for that. I tried to thank him once, when we were the only two in the room and he just shook his head and told me to be quiet. I never brought it up again. I just couldn't understand how he could spend each day of his life going through such extensive torture and yet he still goes on, just as bold and brilliant as always.

The flashback ended as I parked my car to the right of the entrance and made my way up to the room. Johnny was already walking out with Darry by his side.

The many bruises on Johnny's arms and face made me remember that night. All I wanted to do was to give him a hug and tell him that everything would be alright. That he was wanted and loved. I knew that was something that everyone needed to hear now and then and yet never did.

I couldn't tell Johnny that everything would be okay. I didn't know that it would be.

We all unanimously agreed that he wouldn't be going home but rather going to stay at the Curtis house for a few days before he was fully recovered. Which remained like the resident home for all of the hoodlums in the neighborhood.

"So how have you been feeling lately?" Darry asked me as we walked out of the hospital. It was the first time anyone had asked about my health in awhile.

"I'm doing better. I'm actually able to use my right hand now, which is an improvement," I said laughing knowing that Darry didn't find it all that funny. I knew that he wanted me to go to the hospital and get a proper check up but I couldn't do it.

I had successfully stayed out of the way of my father for the past three weeks. He was angry that I had been born and invaded on his perfect life. I knew that he had lost his job and soon we would lose everything. Getting a medical bill would not make him happy. My father only loved me because he had to, not because he wanted to.

I moved over into the middle of the seat so that Darry could drive and Johnny could have room. Sodapop was coming by the hospital to pick up the truck and head to work later. "How ya doing Johnny?" I asked softly, smiling at him as he climbed up into seat.

"Ok, I guess."

I was worried about him. I no longer saw the joy in his eyes. The same form childhood innocence that I saw every time I looked at Ponyboy, Twobit and Soda. They knew that they had a rough life but they made the best out of it. Now Johnny was cold and unfeeling, with a hate in his eyes that I never saw before. I prayed that it would fade away soon. I couldn't stare at him any longer because he reminded me of someone...of Dally.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the vehicle as we drove back to the house. I knew that Darry noticed the change in Johnny too but he would never mention it. That wasn't how things were done. You just hang back and let them deal with their problems however they felt was necessary. Unless they were in trouble. It didn't mean that they didn't care. It was just the way things were. You couldn't be babied, you wouldn't survive on the streets.

I had been raised by my mother to treat people with the same amount of respect that I wished for them to bestow upon me. Over the years I had strayed from my moral's quite a bit. But they were still deeply imbedded in to my soul. So it was killing me to just sit there and say nothing. I knew that there was only so much a person could take before they gave up on living and Johnny was losing that little bit of light that kept him moving on. It was killing me but I was forced to sit back and watch as my friend was letting go. Praying that he would hold on...if anything, just for the sanity of his friends.