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Johnny had always seen people behind their masks. He had a weirdly sharp intuition that the gang had trusted once he had guessed people's intention correctly for the 5th time. However, when Dallas had first started hanging around the gang, Johnny had naturally latched on, Giving Dallas soft smiles and following him around like a little puppy. Everyone thought he was wrong about the towheaded greaser.
He should have been wrong.
And now, as Ponyboy looks down at their graves, side by side in death as much as in life, he wishes that he could see what Johnny saw. He wishes he believed him, when he told Pony how Dally was. Rain was pounding down on him in buckets, as if the heavens were mourning the two as much as the gang was. He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Soda. “Pony, we’ve gotta get Dally’s stuff from Bucks place.” He almost had to yell over the pouring rain. “Says he can’t stand that Dallas isn’t there.”
Pony looked back at the gravestones, and Soda practically pulled him to Darry’s truck by his shoulder. He didn’t want to leave yet. Still, he got into the truck, seeing the solemn faces of the gang. He looked at Soda’s face, and saw his lip wobble trying to contain his tears. Two-bit and Steve had red rimmed eyes and tear tracks down their faces, and Darry had a stone cold look on his face, his eyes furrowed and his hands gripping the steering wheel. Pony knew it wasn’t that he didn’t care, he just didn’t know how to express it without breaking down, which to Darry was a no-no. To Darry, he had to be strong, and he couldn’t show the cracks in his superhuman mask.
Everyone was tired, but they needed to get this done.
Darry had stepped up to Buck’s door knocking only once before the door flung open. There was Buck, who had a rag in hand. He left the door wide open, and walked back towards the bar, continuing to clean the already shiny cups. The gang took this as an invitation inside.
“I know it seems soon, but I need this stuff gone. I keep expectin’ him n’ that kid ta’ come rollin’ back in.” He started cleaning the glass more aggressively. “It’s ok Buck. We needed to to it sometime.” It wasn’t alright though. Buck was merely an acquaintance, and had no right to ask the gang to do this today. It was too soon; and yet Pony looked at Buck’s hunched, almost pathetic form, he understood, and took pity on the man. They were in the same position.
The gang headed up the creaking stairs, and Darry pushed ahead, opening the door at the end of the hall with a creak. Pony almost expected to see Dally’s blond head, half naked and coverin’ a broad with a sheet, yell’n at ‘em to get out, but all that was there was a dark and empty room, shrouded in shadow. Darry flicked the light on, and even though it gave the room light, it still gave a feeling of emptiness throughout the room
“Well, Let's get started, '' Darry murmured.
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Pony was going through Dally’s bedside things. He wanted to find his ring. They had buried him with his Christopher, but the ring he gave to those he was going steady with wasn’t there. There were more…private things in his drawers. Sure there were things like condoms in the first drawer, but the second drawer felt more personal. There was a picture of a young Dallas, most likely before his first time in jail. He had a small smile, and was clinging onto his mom. None of them had met her, she had died before he had moved to Tulsa, but even so, this photo showed that he had gotten his looks from his mom, blonde hair and blue eyes. Pony felt tears coming on, ‘Dammit’ he thought, but he simply couldn’t stop the racing thoughts of ‘What if he hadn’t hardened?’ and ‘What if he never went to jail?’
All these thoughts racing in his head he almost missed Soda gasp. He turned to see him kneeled over a box, from where he was it was filled with miscellaneous papers. Soda held his hand over his mouth, and Pony could see the shine in his eyes. Steve was right next to him, and he shoved the paper to his chest; “I need a moment.” he said before leaving the room, cancer stick in his mouth miles before the door.
Steve brought the page of notebook paper away from his chest, skimming over the page before muttering a soft “Jesus Christ” before seemingly re-reading it.
“What? What is it?” Two-bit asked, trying to peer over Steve’s shoulder, trying to read what was written. Steve sighed, “It’s a letter from Johnny, back when Dally had moved back to New York.” Darry and Pony headed over to where Steve was taking a seat on the floor. Pony piped up “What’s so shocking about that? What’s it say?” Steve looked down at Johnny’s large and scratchy print. “Promise you won’t judge and I’ll read it” they looked at each other, none of them would ever judge Johnny, especially not now that he had passed. Darry spoke up again “We promise. If anyone judges I’ll hang em’ by their toes above the porch. Now get readin’”
Steve took a breath and started reading
The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. For a minute they let the letter just set in nobody moved, it was silent before Darry dropped his face in his hands, and you could hear the pure grief in his voice when he let out quiet “Good lord” Two-bit didn’t seem to have a reaction. He seemed to be thinking, staring at the wood grain floor. Steve put the letter down before reaching for the box that had the letter in it. It had multiple photo albums inside and a (probably stolen) polaroid camera.
They had said they were going through Dally’s things. These letters were a part of that
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It took hours to finish all the letters, over 300 from the 2-year period in New York. Soda had come back in at some point, and by the time they were done, everyone was dehydrated. Buck had come up with late lunch, as sort of an apology for having them do this now. The box only contained letters written by Johnny, but the boy was confessing his hopes and dreams to Dally. His wish to get outta Tulsa, his hope that one day they could be together, safe, without worry of Socs, or being attacked for bein’ in love with another boy. A couple letters where just Johnny telling Dally what he loved about him, going into detail about features and traits he loved about him.
The gang never saw most of these traits.
After eating, the started in on the albums. The first page that Pony opened had a polaroid of Johnny, a cancer stick caught between his fingers, it was from the side of his face, and he was looking at something in the distance. On his fingers were two rings. One on his middle, on on his ring finger. The one on the middle was the ring Dallas gave to all of his girlfriends, the other was seemingly new, Gleaming in the light of the camera. He had a small smile on his lips, and was looking at the scenery. The polaroid was in color, it showed the colorful sunset, and the greenery that Johnny seemed to be enjoying, and he was breathing out smoke. He was leaning forward on an old gray fence and He was relaxed, content with looking at the colors and trees. The gang hardly saw Johnny comfortable enough to talk, let alone smile. It hurt that they had never seen him like this.
He turned the page to see Dally, he as laying in bed, his chest down on the mattress, but his face turned towards the camera. His Christopher gleamed in the light of the camera, and he was lax. He was asleep, his eyes softly closed, his cheek squished against his pillow, His mouth was slightly open, and there was a tan hand in his blonde hair. It was Johnny’s. Dally’s face was soft, relaxed in a way he was never when awake, at least around the gang.
There were so many pictures. Pictures of Johnny reading, of Dally looking at the person behind the camera with soft eyes, and a loving smile, Pictures of Dally kissing a tan hand, pictures of Dally covered in red lipstick, and pictures of Johnny wearing it. Nobody was able to cry anymore.
Then it sets in for all of them, that while they knew Dally, they didn’t know him. They didn’t know the Dally that loved Johnny, that took photos of him in the sunset, that kept Johnny’s letters in a box in his dresser, that looked so soft when he had love in his eyes. They never knew that Dallas. All they knew was his anger. He lived and died angry it seemed to the gang, but now they knew, he just died sad. He died in agony knowing johnny was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Dallas had seen a sunset, it turns out. He was just too busy looking at Johnny to notice it, because what is more beautiful than loving someone?
And now the gang grieving. They were grieving the Johnny and Dally they knew, and were now grieving the Johnny and Dally they would never know.
It was a heavy burden to bear.