It was a matter of perspective, maybe. Darry tried to puzzle it out
as he gazed at Ponyboy sleeping, which he still did an awful lot.
It wasn't Dally so much, though that surely affected them. But Dallas had lived reckless and violently for a long time. While upsetting, his death was not exactly a surprise.
No, rather, it was Johnny's death that had set them all reeling.
Darry felt the emptyness they all felt over it. Some things seemed constant in his life, or had before. Like his parents, just a constant presence until they were killed and then the emptyness of where they had been. It was staggering. Johnny was the same. A constant presence. Of course they were always torn up about how his family treated him but Johnny himself was like the calm center of the craziness of the east side. And he hadn't realized how much they depended on that until he died.
Darry shook his head, unsure every day since Ponyboy had returned of how to proceed.
He often felt like shaking sense into him, "They're dead, they're dead!" But as Soda has said in so many words, Pony wasn't like him.
So what could he do? Hope the doctor was right and time would take care of it.
A knock at the door. Two bit and Steve never knocked. Ponyboy had been getting visitors, middle class kids from school, in awe of the whole mess Ponyboy had got himself into.
Darry figured it was another of these.
"Hi, uh, is Ponyboy here?" Darry was surprised to see Randy on his doorstep. Randy had been Bob's friend, had tried to drown Pony that night, had probably helped beat up Johnny that time in the lot.
He was dressed casually enough but Darry could see even his casual clothes had cost a pretty penny. A far cry from the jeans and tee shirts he was always wearing.
"Yeah, come in," He did, head down, perhaps aware of his part in things.
"Ponyboy." Darry said.
"Yeah?" Pony didn't look up, accustomed now to the constant arrival of the doctor and friends from school..
"There's a guy here to see you. Says he knows you." Ponyboy looked up.
"His name's Randy."
"Yeah, I know him," Pony said.
"You want to see him?" Darry had no idea how Pony would respond. Maybe anger that Randy had helped hurt Johnny. Maybe indifference, as he wasn't too clear, unaware that Randy had any part in things at all.
"Yeah." Pony shrugged, "Sure, why not?"
Darry let him go in and stood outside, not able to hear their words through the closed door, just the low tones of their voices. He felt watchful and he wasn't exactly sure why.
He didn't blame Randy for the events that lead to this. No, that blame went to Bob, who if he wasn't already dead Darry would gladly kill him himself. But Randy was a different story, just swept along in things much as Ponyboy was. It was no more Randy's fault Johnny and Dally were dead that it was Ponyboy's fault Bob was, too.
Still, something kept him near, watchful.
Darry heard the low murmur of Randy's voice and Ponyboy's response, just loud enough through the door so he could make out the words.
"I had it," Ponyboy said, "I had the knife. I killed Bob." Oh, here we go. Darry ran a hand through his hair.
The low murmur of Randy's reply.
"I killed him." Ponyboy's voice had a frightening shrillness, "I had a switchblade and I was scared they were going to beat me up."
Darry edged closer and Randy spoke louder, so he could hear him, too.
"No, kid, it was your friend, the one who died in the hospital..."
Darry felt a curious mixture of alarm and a strange sense of relief, that at last someone said it.
"Johnny is not dead." Pony's voice shook with his denial, "Johnny is not dead."
"Hey, Randy." Darry couldn't stand it, fearing he had pushed Pony too far, "I think you'd better go now."
Darry ushered him out and spoke to him in a low voice, hoping Pony wouldn't overhear.
"Don't ever say anything to him about Johnny," Randy looked guilty, sorry, and overwhelmed all at once. He nodded somberly.
When he had left Darry went back to Ponyboy's room but did not go in. He looked at his brother, sitting up in bed, smoking despite being told not to. He had the weird gleam in his eye of believing his lie. Darry sighed and it became a shudder. Johnny and Dally dead, court hanging over their heads. How would they ever find him to be a fit guardian? While in his care Ponyboy was almost killed, helped kill a soc, for God's sake, ran away, hid from the police. Once he started thinking about it the list didn't seem to stop. What had he done right?
He watched Ponyboy, he must know somewhere in his mind that they're dead because he looks so sad. Darry was sure he was going to lose him. He was losing everybody.
"Ponyboy Curtis, put out that cigarette!" He said this, trying for some normalcy.
"O.K., O.K.," Pony answered, sounding normal, for all the world.
It wasn't Dally so much, though that surely affected them. But Dallas had lived reckless and violently for a long time. While upsetting, his death was not exactly a surprise.
No, rather, it was Johnny's death that had set them all reeling.
Darry felt the emptyness they all felt over it. Some things seemed constant in his life, or had before. Like his parents, just a constant presence until they were killed and then the emptyness of where they had been. It was staggering. Johnny was the same. A constant presence. Of course they were always torn up about how his family treated him but Johnny himself was like the calm center of the craziness of the east side. And he hadn't realized how much they depended on that until he died.
Darry shook his head, unsure every day since Ponyboy had returned of how to proceed.
He often felt like shaking sense into him, "They're dead, they're dead!" But as Soda has said in so many words, Pony wasn't like him.
So what could he do? Hope the doctor was right and time would take care of it.
A knock at the door. Two bit and Steve never knocked. Ponyboy had been getting visitors, middle class kids from school, in awe of the whole mess Ponyboy had got himself into.
Darry figured it was another of these.
"Hi, uh, is Ponyboy here?" Darry was surprised to see Randy on his doorstep. Randy had been Bob's friend, had tried to drown Pony that night, had probably helped beat up Johnny that time in the lot.
He was dressed casually enough but Darry could see even his casual clothes had cost a pretty penny. A far cry from the jeans and tee shirts he was always wearing.
"Yeah, come in," He did, head down, perhaps aware of his part in things.
"Ponyboy." Darry said.
"Yeah?" Pony didn't look up, accustomed now to the constant arrival of the doctor and friends from school..
"There's a guy here to see you. Says he knows you." Ponyboy looked up.
"His name's Randy."
"Yeah, I know him," Pony said.
"You want to see him?" Darry had no idea how Pony would respond. Maybe anger that Randy had helped hurt Johnny. Maybe indifference, as he wasn't too clear, unaware that Randy had any part in things at all.
"Yeah." Pony shrugged, "Sure, why not?"
Darry let him go in and stood outside, not able to hear their words through the closed door, just the low tones of their voices. He felt watchful and he wasn't exactly sure why.
He didn't blame Randy for the events that lead to this. No, that blame went to Bob, who if he wasn't already dead Darry would gladly kill him himself. But Randy was a different story, just swept along in things much as Ponyboy was. It was no more Randy's fault Johnny and Dally were dead that it was Ponyboy's fault Bob was, too.
Still, something kept him near, watchful.
Darry heard the low murmur of Randy's voice and Ponyboy's response, just loud enough through the door so he could make out the words.
"I had it," Ponyboy said, "I had the knife. I killed Bob." Oh, here we go. Darry ran a hand through his hair.
The low murmur of Randy's reply.
"I killed him." Ponyboy's voice had a frightening shrillness, "I had a switchblade and I was scared they were going to beat me up."
Darry edged closer and Randy spoke louder, so he could hear him, too.
"No, kid, it was your friend, the one who died in the hospital..."
Darry felt a curious mixture of alarm and a strange sense of relief, that at last someone said it.
"Johnny is not dead." Pony's voice shook with his denial, "Johnny is not dead."
"Hey, Randy." Darry couldn't stand it, fearing he had pushed Pony too far, "I think you'd better go now."
Darry ushered him out and spoke to him in a low voice, hoping Pony wouldn't overhear.
"Don't ever say anything to him about Johnny," Randy looked guilty, sorry, and overwhelmed all at once. He nodded somberly.
When he had left Darry went back to Ponyboy's room but did not go in. He looked at his brother, sitting up in bed, smoking despite being told not to. He had the weird gleam in his eye of believing his lie. Darry sighed and it became a shudder. Johnny and Dally dead, court hanging over their heads. How would they ever find him to be a fit guardian? While in his care Ponyboy was almost killed, helped kill a soc, for God's sake, ran away, hid from the police. Once he started thinking about it the list didn't seem to stop. What had he done right?
He watched Ponyboy, he must know somewhere in his mind that they're dead because he looks so sad. Darry was sure he was going to lose him. He was losing everybody.
"Ponyboy Curtis, put out that cigarette!" He said this, trying for some normalcy.
"O.K., O.K.," Pony answered, sounding normal, for all the world.