Sweat Streamed Down His Face

Ponyboy came home and he looked spaced out. He was bleeding from the head a bit and had hardly any colour about him at all. I asked him what was wrong- but I knew already. He looked at me with panic-stricken eyes and said that Johnny had died. It wasn't a big surprise to me. All of us knew it was bound to happen one time or another. I'm not saying that we weren't upset about it though. Johnny was one of us; he was a great friend. Two-Bit was real upset and Soda even let a few tears slip. I however wanted to be strong for the gang, so I kept my cool and questioned him how it went down.

From what I gathered, nothing dramatic happened on how he died. Johnny was talking to Dallas and Pony and he ran out of energy.

Dally didn't handle it well. He was pounding on the hospital walls; and telling Ponyboy that the whole circumstance was his fault. Eventually he fled the building and left my kid brother to find his own way home. I'm, actually not sure how he got back to us- he never said anything about it. But it was just a step out of the door to understand what happened.

Suddenly, the phone rang and I felt obliged to pick it up as everyone was still in a state of shock. It was Dallas and he sounded bitter and in a rush, what he said was this-

"Eugh- Darry, I'm done. I just robbed a grocery store and the fuzz is after me. I don't have much time so meet me at the empty lot right now- I'm on a pay phone about two blocks away. See you there." And hung up.

I turned to four worried, worn out faces and told them what was going on. We were out the door and off the front lawn within seconds. The lot of us sprinted down the cold roads down to where this whole venture began. The lot had a eerie feeling going about it. I don't know whether it was just my nerves or what- but I got the creeps.

Out of the blue- I saw Dallas' silhouette bounding down the cracked cement of Scott Street. But he stopped running under a street light. It all happened very quickly then. Minute after minute. The cops surrounded him- and he took out his gun. Before any of us could react- you could only hear shots in the air. And Dallas Winston was dead before he hit the ground.

I was about to follow Steve and Two-Bit over to him but Pony had collapsed onto the ground.

He was in bed since Saturday night. He had a concussion, and was in shock the entire time of the rumble. I knew I shouldn’t of let him participate in the fight! I don’t know where my common sense flew to. I mean- he was lucky out there that he didn’t get pounded on harder. The kid has no way of knowing what’s good for him. He already wasn’t feeling well when we got to the fight.

But the point is that he woke up today- and he looked thin. His face was sucked in and he was weak. Soda was about to jump on him and tussle around a bit; I grabbed him in mid-air and made sure he understood that Pony wasn’t in any shape to be playing around with. Sodapop then gently climbed on the bed and we had a conversation about how Ponyboy was yelling for people when in bed. Dad, Mom, Soda. But hardly ever me. He hardly even screamed my name. And every time he did it sounded angry. I need to begin a better relationship with him. I’m positive that there’s in still a tendency between us- and honestly, I don’t like it. He should have relatives to go to when there is something that is bothering him. A person who he feels comfortable sharing personal stuff with.

And now I’m really worried because we have to go to court. I can’t imagine living without my kid-brothers. Making cake for them, joking around, talking bad about Socials with them.

I went into the kitchen to make Pony soup because he said he was hungry- but by the time I got back Soda and him were out cold.