It took forever, it seemed, for Pony and Johnny to both be asleep. I took painstaking efforts to not awaken them as I searched for paper to write a note. Pony must have hidden the notebook somewhere. Probably keeping a journal, or something… that was just Pony. At least I knew where the pen was – we had been using it to keep track of our poker winnings.
I ripped the last page out of Gone with the Wind. What was it doing in there, anyway? It was blank. I took the pen off the crate we were using as a table and started to write.
Dear Pony,
I have to go home. I know Darry and Soda must be sick with worry and while Dally might have told them that he knows where you and Johnny are, nobody back home really knows where I am, or that I'm with you, even. I think things between you and me are good now, but without meaning to I probably made things with Darry and Soda (and Ben) worse. I never even said goodbye to them. I have to go back, even though I know that you and Johnny aren't ready yet. I swear, Pony, I won't tell anybody where you are, you know I won't. I'll just tell Darry and Soda that I know you are safe, and that they don't have to worry because you and Johnny are just fine. Please don't be mad, or worried about me. I am so glad that I got to be with you for the past few days and I love you so much Pony, I hope you know that now. Keep Johnny safe too.
Love,
Scout
I left my letter inside the book where I had last left off reading, knowing that one of them would probably pick up the book in the panic of me being gone and thumb through it, finding my letter. I looked around to see what else I should bring. I grabbed some baloney and bread from our supplies, stuffed them inside some brown paper wrapping, and shoved them into my pocket. I didn't figure I would be walking for very long. There was a road that led right up to the church. The people who used to use the road to get to the church must have come from somewhere! I figured that if I just followed the road eventually I would come upon a more well traveled road, from which I could hitch a ride into Tulsa and home. This was why I felt I had to do something I hated doing… I reached into sleeping Johnny's jacket pocket and took his blade. He didn't even shift in his sleep. I was scared about hitchhiking… a twelve year-old girl; alone… having some sort of weapon seemed reasonable.
"Sorry, Johnny," I whispered. I was convincing myself that it would never come to hitchhiking anyway – some nice old elderly couple would be out for a country drive and pull over and offer to drive me home. I would hop in and they would tell me stories about their children and grandchildren while we drove to Tulsa and they would call me 'honey' the whole time. Idon't know what I was thinking; I was probably delirious.
I stood up and looked down at both Pony and Johnny. Absentmindedly I rubbed my calf scratch. It was burning. I remembered that I had meant to wash it out at the well. Stupid, I thought, it's just a scratch. I took a good long look at the two of them. They both looked peaceful, caught up in dreams that appeared to have nothing to do with their current reality.
"Good night, boys," I whispered. "Be safe." I remembered my mom's other parting words, and just for good measure added them on. "Use your manners." I smiled to myself as I imagined the two of them playing cutthroat poker for cigarettes, all the while saying "please" and "thank you."
I wanted to stay and stare at them all night but I knew I should get going. I imagined it might be a few miles back to civilization and I wanted to be back to a bigger road by morning. I had no idea what time it was, but I figured I had a few hours left in the dark and wanted to be far enough away before Pony and Johnny woke up that they wouldn't be able to find me.