That night, neither Pony and I wanted to do our homework. Instead he wanted to find us a book to read. Well, he could read it aloud and I could listen to him.
But the only issue was, he's read every book in the house over a million times. He set his sights on Gone with the Wind, which sat still on the end table. We stared down at it, thinking of Johnny.
It hurt a lot knowing that he was dead. Pony knew it all the time, even when he was sick. We were both playing in denial. Johnny was the one who killed Bob, neither Pony nor I.
It wouldn't hurt so much if we played like Johnny. Two-Bit kept ahold of his blade, gripping it tight as the police dragged Dally's body away.
"Is that damn switchblade the only thing bothering you?" Steve snapped at Two-Bit. "No. I wish that's all that was bothering me." Two-Bit replied with a quivering sigh.
It still hurt though. It hurt like hell. You know someone for a long time, and I mean you really know them, you don't exactly get over him being killed overnight. Like Johnny, he was more than just a buddy to all of us.
Sure, he had more problems than any of us, but he was a good listener. I couldn't forget him telling Pony and I that he hadn't done enough in his short life, hadn't left the neighborhood all your life. It was too late…
I remembered what he had told me after I kissed him. He took the blow so I wouldn't get hurt. Darry and them would be devastated if I had been killed in that fire. And he was right… I couldn't be more grateful than I already am for what he did.
Taking a deep breath, Pony opened the book and a piece of paper fell on the floor. "Huh? What's this?" I asked as Pony picked it up. "Looks like a note." Pony replied, opening it.
I leaned over my brother's shoulder to read the note too. And I swear I almost started bawling. It was a note from Johnny…
"Ponyboy, Bexley, I asked the nurse to give you guys this book so both of you could finish it." the note started and I swear I could hear Johnny's voice. "The doctor came in a while ago but I knew anyway. I'm getting more tired by the second. Listen, I don't mind dying now. It was worth saving those kids. They have more to live for. Some of their parents came by to thank me and I knew it was worth it." we read, and I felt a tear roll down my cheek.
"I knew it was worth saving you, Bexley. Your brothers deserve to have you around. They wouldn't want their sister to die so young when she has more to live for. They love you a lot, you know. After you had kissed me back there, I knew that you were grateful. It meant a lot to me that you did that." we read. Pony and I looked at one another and we smiled at one another.
I couldn't help but hug Pony. He didn't hesitate to hug me back. "I love you, Ponyboy…" I said, still hugging my brother. "I love you too, Bexley." he replied softly. Just reading that bit made me realize just how much I loved my brothers. All three of them.
I didn't have anything to feel guilty for anymore. Johnny saved my life. I'm forever indebted to him.
"You guys tell Dally it's worth it. I'm sure gonna miss you guys. I've been thinking about it, and that poem, that guy who wrote it, he meant you're gold when you're a kid, like green. When you're a kid everything's new, dawn. It's just when you get used to everything that it's day. Like the way you and Bex dig sunsets, that's gold. Keep it that way, it's a good way to be. I want you guys to tell Dally to look at a sunset, I don't think he's ever seen one. You guys still have a lot of time to make yourselves be what you want. There's a lot of good in the world. Tell Dally, I don't think he knows. Y'all's buddy, Johnny."
By the end of the letter, I was in tears. I couldn't help it. Dally was gone… it was too late to tell him. I walked to the window and stared outside, the sun was starting to set.
Pony got up to join me and he wrapped his arm around me. "Bex? Are you okay?" he asked me. "Ponyboy, would Dally have listened to us?" I asked. "I doubt it, Bex." Ponyboy answered me, looking out of the window with me.
We both pictured millions of boys and girls living on the wrong side of the city, having black eyes and jumping at their own shadows. Many of which would watch sunsets and stargaze because they detested the world. They ached for something better than that.
I pictured them going under street lights because they were mean and tough. It was too late to tell them that there was still good left in the world, and they wouldn't believe you if you said so.
Some people have rights to tell their own stories, and many people would understand and not judge a book by its cover or how much hair oil that a person wore. It was important to Pony and I.
"Bex, we should call our english teachers about those papers." Pony suggested. "Good idea. You can go first." I replied, letting him call first. He nodded and he talked to his english teacher.
Ponyboy could write his paper for however long he wanted. With mine, I could do the same since we were writing the same kind of paper. I sat down on the bed with a book that I could use as a table. Pony sat at the desk with his paper.
I picked up my pen and waited a minute. Pony was lost in thought. I figured that we could both write about the same thing.
I remembered a handsome, dark skinned boy with a hot temper and reckless smile. A tough, tow-headed boy with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. Pony and I could remember this time without it hurting.
We both remembered the quiet, defeated 16 year old whose hair needed a good cutting and whose black eyes always carried a frightened expression. One week had taken all three of them. Ponyboy and I decided to tell people our story, starting with our english teachers.
After a while of thinking, I started to write something that was important to me and Ponyboy. I started the story out like this: When my brother and I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the movie house, Paul Newman and a ride home were the only things on our minds...
Seize upon the moment long ago
One breath away and there you will be
So young and carefree
Again you will see
That place in time, so gold
Steal away into that way back when
You thought that all would last forever
But like the weather
Nothing can ever, and be in time
Stay gold
