……………………………The Rabbit Hole

They shrugged, in mutual denial of his wherabouts, and it occurred to me that Dallas was very different from these boys, less a neighborhood pal than an exotic hood, bringing tales of gang warfare and crime still essentially foreign to them.

"How's Johnny?" Soda said, his face solemn, and I looked at Ponyboy, who should have rightly answered this question. He bent his head studiously over his homework.

I sighed.

"Okay, I guess," What could I say? Johnny seemed beyond help to me.

And speak of the devil. Who sauntered in but Dallas, full of a slouchy easy cool I almost admired.

"Hey, Mr. Williams," In his detached way Dallas seemed pleased to see me, and I nodded at him, trying to shake the queasy, pukey feeling.

I put my hand to my forehead, closed my eyes, and swallowed hard.

"Dallas? We have to go see Johnny,"

Dreaded trip, Dallas driving because I was incapable of such complicated motor function.

I hated going to see Johnny. I felt such a species of pity and guilt that I didn't know what to do. And, no big surprise, he was worse.

How this was possible was beyond me. But he was. And at first we were not allowed to see him.

The secretary, gray and plump behind her cat's eye glasses, refused us. Dallas looked like he might knock her flat but I gave him a look, 'I'll handle it,'.

I stepped up to the plate, weaving bullshit and truth and legalese in such a brilliant sparkling pattern that I could actually feel the secretary going blind, and she allowed us to see him.

She called up to his floor so the orderly could escort us. It wasn't the same one as before but he was demographically similar, an untroubled young man.

He regarded us skeptically.

"You're going to see Johnny…Cade?" he said. I cursed Clyde silently and wished I'd taken that train out of Tulsa.

"Yes," I said calmly. He shrugged, and in that gesture seemed to say it was really none of his business.

The room Johnny had been in before was a double room, and he had laid on the bed closest to the door.

We passed this room now.

"Hey…uh, isn't…?" Dallas peered into that empty room. The orderly gave him an odd little smile.

"Yeah, that was his room. But not anymore," We continued to follow him, down the hall, past room after room. I felt like Alice in Wonderland. I'd fallen down a rabbit hole, and there was no way out. All I could do was go deeper.

Dallas glanced at me, like maybe I knew what to expect. I gave him a baffled, 'got me', type expression, and the orderly stopped at a blank gray door, a small square window carved into it. The window, judging by its odd opaqueness, was plastic. But if you got close enough to it you could look through it.

The orderly dug a key from his pocket and opened the door. The door was heavy and did not open easily.

"Okay. Here you go. I'll be right here if, " he added ominously, "If you need me,"

Dallas licked his lips, and I thought it was the most physical display of nervousness I'd seen him make. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes for half a second, and we went in.

The room had high ceilings and cement brick walls painted a sickly light green. There was a mattress on the floor, no sheets, nothing. Johnny sat on the mattress but wasn't facing us. He leaned against the wall. Maybe he was asleep.

"Hey kid," Dallas said, his voice soft but confident. I didn't envy Dallas. On the way over here I had told him he needed to tell Johnny to snap out of it, to do whatever needed to be done so he could get out of that hospital.

"Johnny?" he said, and I heard the minute cracks in his confidence. Johnny turned around and looked at us from dull, sunken eyes.

"Dal?" he said uncertainly, like Dallas just might be a hallucination.

"Yeah, kid, it's me,"

"Dal?" he said again, sounding a bit more sure of Dallas' reality. Dallas stepped toward him and Johnny flinched slightly. I noticed his arms were bruised.

I figured what happened. Johnny didn't cooperate with medication or something and fought against them. It landed him in this isolation room.

Christ, Dallas had a tough job ahead.