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The church was on fire!
“Let’s go see what the deal is,” I say, hopping out.
“What for?” Dally sounded irritated. “Get back in here before I beat your head in.”
I knew Dally would have to park the car and catch me before he could carry out his threat, and Johnny was already out and following me, so I figured I was safe. We could hear him cussing us out, but he wasn’t mad enough to come after us. There was a crowd at the front of the church, mostly little kids, and I wondered how they got there so quickly. I tapped the nearest grown-up. “What’s going on?”
“Well, we don’t know for sure,” the man said with a good natured grin. “We were having a school picnic up here and first thing we knew, the place was burning up. Thank goodness this is a wet season and the old thing is worthless anyway.” Then, to the kids, he shouted, “Stand back, children. The firemen will be coming soon.”
“I bet we started it,” I said to Johnny. “We must have dropped a lighted cigarette or something.”
About that time, a lady came running up. “Jerry, some of the kids are missing.”
“They’re probably around here somewhere. You can’t tell with all the excitement where they might be.”
“No.” She shook her head. “They’ve been missing for at least half an hour. I thought they were climbing the hill…”
Then we all froze. Faintly, just faintly, you could hear someone yelling. And it sounded like it was coming from inside the church.
The woman went white. “I told them not to play in the church… I told them…” She looked like she was about to start screaming, so Jerry shook her.
“I’ll get them, don’t worry!” I started at a dead run for the church and the man caught my arm. “I’ll get them. You kids stay out!”
I wiggle loose and run again, then immediately run into Dally’s chest with a soft ‘oof’. I look up at his scowling features. “Move,” I say, with far more confidence than I feel.
“No,” Dally replies, crossing his arms over his chest. “Go back to the car, where it’s safe.”
“But the kids—”
“I don’t care about the kids right now! I care about you. And Johnny. Who I’m supposed to be keeping safe, not allowing to run into a burning building!”
I don’t know what, but something in me snaps at that. “Ah, yes, I’m sorry I’m trying to help these helpless little kids stuck in a burning church that we probably caused! But, of course, you wouldn’t know anything about “heroism” and “bravery” and even “kindness” since you’re only white trash who can only think with his fists!” Dally gets angrier with every word I say, but I carry on. “You know Johnny idolizes you, right?” He glances at Johnny for a split second before returning to me. “How would you feel if he became like you? What if he got killed because of you?”
“Pony—” Johnny starts, but I cut him off.
“No, I want him to really think about that.”
“Car. Now.” Dally demands, holding his ground.
I take a step closer, getting in his face. “Let me help them.”
“Ponyboy, get in that car. Now.”
“Dally—” Johnny stops when I give him a look. I almost feel guilty when he looks hurt. Later. Focus on now.
“Let me help, Dally. I—”
“Ponyboy Curtis!” Dally yells at me. “Get in that goddamn car now or I will rip your head from your neck before you can say “help” again! Got it?”
I flinch back slightly at his harsh tone, but nod nonetheless. I glance at Johnny and he looks like he’s struggling to pick a side; he looks between me and Dally, a nervous expression on his face. I look back at Dally, then slowly walk back to the car, staring down at my feet.
I sat in the backseat on the passengers side, slumping my shoulders. I chew nervously on my nails. They were already bitten down to the quick, but a few extra centimeters never hurt nobody.
A few minutes later, a fire truck and an ambulance pull up to the church. The firefighters hurry inside, going back out a few seconds later with crying, ash-covered kids. A few looked badly burned. A little girl’s arm was bent at a weird angle. Probably broken. Several kids were coughing. The firefighters brought the kids to the ambulance, then went back to put out the fire.
The church was ruined, that’s for sure. Half of the building collapsed in a heap of debris. Now me and Johnny had no hiding spot. Johnny was gonna turn himself in anyway. I stared at the debris a while longer, feeling a strange mix of guilt and anger. Guilt because I could’ve helped those kids, and if I had, one wouldn’t have a broken arm. Anger at Dally for holding me back, Johnny for killing that guy, and myself for coming along for this trainwreck of a situation.
There are too many things I could’ve done differently this whole week, I’m afraid thinking about it too long could make my brain implode.
Dally and Johnny come back to the car. I decide to ignore the fact that Johnny sits up front instead of next to me. “Are the kids okay?” I ask.
Dally grips the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles go white. I guess he’s still not talking to me. Johnny twists in his seat to look at me, answering in place of Dally. “The kids could be better. They’ve been through a lot.” So have we, I thought. No one came to rescue us. “A few kids have burns, one got second degree. A, uh, a kid broke her arm.” He stops there, then glances at Dally.
“What?” I look between Johnny and Dally. “What happened? Tell me.”
Johnny takes a breath, glancing at Dally before speaking again. “A…A kid died.”
My mind goes blank. I stare. And stare and stare and stare. Then the thoughts come flooding back in.
Your fault. You did this. Fire starter. Arsonist. You could’ve helped those kids. Dally didn’t have to be in your way. Be quicker. Think faster. Be stronger. Weakling. Darry’s right to get rid of you.
“...ny…?”
That kid didn’t deserve any of this. Maybe if you hadn’t ran he would still be alive. You should’ve just ignored Dally. Stupid. What’s the point of all this if you can’t save one kid? How do you ever expect to be seen as anything other than a reckless, violent greaser? You should’ve killed yourself when you had the chance.
“Pony!”
I snap out of my thoughts, looking up to meet Johnny’s dark, puppy dog eyes. Dally turned in his seat to look at me also. “You okay?” Johnny asks. “You’re cryin’.”
I wipe my face with my hands, keeping my head down. “‘M fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Dally cuts in. He turns away from me, starting the car. “Just…quit cryin’, got it?” At first listen, he would’ve sounded stern and serious, like he didn’t care. But underneath, I heard the worry in his voice.
Dally drives, not speaking to me the rest of the day. Johnny, tries (and fails) to discreetly look at me. I wanna tell him to buzz off, but I know he’s just trying to help.
“Where are we going?” I ask Dally. I look out of the window, trying to guess where we are.
All he said was, “Home.”
The thought of going home excited me, but also made me nervous. I wanted to see Soda’s goofy grin and to sleep in my own bed, but I was also nervous to see Darry again, especially after he hit me. I thought about the look on his face when he did it—angry and upset. What if he was still mad? Maybe he’d be disappointed in me.
But…what if he was happy to see me? Maybe he’d be relieved. I don’t know what to expect, and that made me more anxious than anything.
I rest my chin on my palm, watching the sun go down. The sunset was like a huge, blazing canvas stretched across the sky. The colors were brilliant—red and orange melting into each other, like someone had set the clouds on fire. The sun was dipping low, leaving trails of gold and pink that made everything look like it was bathed in a warm glow. The whole world seemed to hold its breath, watching as the day turned into night. I hardly noticed when we pulled up in front of the house. Soda was laying on a porch step, smoking a cigarette. Oh, how I wanted one of those right now.
Dally parks the car and gets out. Johnny moves to get out as well, but then looks back at me when I don’t do the same. “Hey, Pony?” I look up at him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“No,” I say honestly. “I…I’m nervous. To see Darry, I mean. What if he’s mad at me?” I fiddle with my fingers, avoiding eye contact.
“It’s okay to be nervous,” Johnny tells me. “I’m nervous all the time and trust me, it’s not a good feeling. You’ll go in there and talk to Darry. You’ll make up and hug and be one big happy family. Alright?”
I look up at him again. He has a soft smile on his face, but it looks sad. His family isn’t the greatest, so maybe he wants to help me improve mine. And he’s right. “Alright.”
“Good. Now come on. Let’s go see the gang again.”
Dally knocks on Johnny’s window, gesturing for him to get out. Johnny smiles at me before getting out of the car. I follow after him. Soda glances at us from his place on the steps, then does a double take, his eyes widening. Johnny waves at him. Soda laughs, sitting up and running over to us. I smile and meet him in the middle, wrapping my arms around him in a tight hug. “God, Pony,” Soda says. I can hear the grin in his voice. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Me too.” I tuck my face into his shoulder, savoring the moment.
Over Soda’s shoulder, I see Darry step out of the house. His eyes widen when he sees me. “Pony?” His voice cracks as he says it, like he can’t believe I’m standing here.
I pull away from Soda, stepping slightly closer to Darry. “Hey.” I wave sheepishly. “I…I’m sorry, Darry. For everything.”
Before I can finish, Darry lets out a shaky laugh, but it’s not his usual one. There’s something raw about it, like he’s barely holding it together. “Shut up, kid,” he says, his voice tight. He steps off the porch and grabs me into a hug so strong, it nearly knocks the wind out of me.I stand there, stiff, but then I feel him shaking. He’s holding me like I might disappear if he lets go. I finally relax and wrap my arms around him, feeling the weight of everything hit me all at once.“You scared the hell outta me, kid,” Darry says, his voice cracking. “I thought I’d lost you.”
I don’t know what to say, so I just bury my face into his chest, feeling my throat tighten. I’ve never seen Darry like this, and it hits me hard. He wasn’t just mad before—he was scared. “I know,” I whisper, pressing my face into his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Darry laughs humorlessly. “Don’t be. You had every right to run away. What I did…I should’ve never done it.”
Soda slaps me on the back once I step back, flashing his movie star grin. “Man, you sure know how to give a guy a heart attack.” I laugh a little, but it doesn’t quite reach my eyes. I know he’s trying to keep things light, but there’s something in his voice, something I don’t hear often from Soda—worry. “You should’ve seen Darry,” Soda says, lowering his voice like it’s a secret. “We were both scared outta our minds, Pony. I never want to see that look on his face again.”
“Let’s go inside,” Darry says, his voice softer now. “None of the other guys are around, but they’ll probably come by tomorrow.”
I glance back at Johnny. He’s got this small, tired smile on his face, like he’s just as relieved as I am to finally be home. For a second, I can see the old Johnny—the one who didn’t have so much on his shoulders. It makes me smile, too. “Yeah,” I say, turning back to Darry. “Let’s go.”
As we walk toward the house, everything feels kinda strange—like I don’t fully belong here anymore, even though I’ve been dreaming of this moment for days. The front door creaks open, and I step inside, feeling the warmth hit me. It’s the smell that gets me first—home. Everything smells the same, like soap and coffee and that faint, musty scent from the old couch. It’s almost enough to make me forget about all the trouble, about the fire, about everything. Johnny follows close behind me, looking around like he’s seeing the place for the first time. I guess, in a way, he is.
Soda claps me on the back again. “Man, it’s good to have you back.”
I smile back at him, but I can’t shake the feeling that we’re one wrong move away from everything going wrong again. What’ll happen to Johnny? What if he gets caught? The gang needs him. I need him. Johnny keeps the gang together, and he’s one of my closest friends. If he really planned on turning himself in, like he said he would, I don’t know what I’d do.
“I’ve missed this place,” Johnny says from his place next to me.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Me too.”
Darry steps in front of us. “You two should get some sleep. Johnny, stay here. It’s too dangerous to be out by yourself, especially after”—I shake my head slightly—”what happened.”
“You’re right,” Johnny agrees. “Uh, where will I sleep?” Johnny fiddles with his hands. Whenever Johnny stayed over, he usually slept on the couch, but by the look on his face, he probably didn’t want to be alone.
"You can bunk with me," I announce. Soda shoots me a look. I just shrug, grabbing Johnny's arm and pulling him to my room. Before I close the door, I hear Soda say "Damn kids" loud enough for me and Johnny to hear. Except Johnny was already asleep on my bed. I walk over, laying down next to him. I fall asleep almost instantly. I had forgotten how good a bed felt.
The next morning, I wake up to a too-loud knock on the door. Johnny was still asleep, totally oblivious to what happened. He was laying on his stomach next to me, one arm under his head, the other draped across my midsection. I carefully move Johnny's arm and get out of bed. I peek my head out of my bedroom door to see Darry standing at the door, talking to a police officer.
"We've got a report that Dallas Winston—one of your "buddies"—was seen driving out of Windrixville with two boys. Witnesses say they looked vaguely like the two boys we're looking for now." As the policeman talks, I keep watch on Darry, trying to read his body language. Dally once told me the police notice that kind of stuff. "You seen them?" The mention of Windrixville reminded me of the kid who died in that church. Your fault .
Darry sighs, running a hand through his sleep mussed hair. "Like I told you last time, officer, I haven't seen them since the night they ran."
"Like I said last time, if you don't tell us the full and honest truth, I have a warrant to search your home. If I come in and find those boys, I—"
Johnny groans from his place on my bed. "What's happenin', Pony?" I hold a finger up to my lips, then look back out my door. The policeman didn't seem to hear Johnny; he was still talking to Darry.
"With all due respect, sir, I'm not letting you inside my house," Darry said.
The policeman fixes his vest, chuckling slightly. "Then I guess next time we see each other, I'll have backup."
Darry's shoulders tense, and even though I can't see his face, I could tell he was gritting his teeth—a weird little habit I noticed he had. He looks back toward my door. When he sees me, he subtly waves me away. Just as Darry does so, Johnny steps up next to me. Darry waves us away again, more frantically. The policeman taps him on the shoulder and Darry turns back. “Sorry. Uh,” he pauses, glancing at us again. “There’s no need for backup, officer. Uh…Come in.” Darry steps aside to let in the officer.
“I’m turning myself in,” Johnny whispers beside me.
I snap toward him, my heart stuttering. “What? Johnny, you–you can’t.” I grab his arm when he moves to leave. “Johnny, please, you can’t.”
Johnny pulls his arm away, his voice firmer than I’ve ever heard it. “Pony. I’m doing it. Lay off.” I reach out as he opens the door and steps out. I don’t follow him. I hear what’s happening outside of the door. The sound of Johnny’s voice, the click of the handcuffs, Darry’s yelling. What’ll happen when Dally finds out? Or the rest of the gang? My eyes sting. First the kid, now Johnny. You could’ve stopped him. You could’ve convinced him to stay. “Shut up,” I whisper to myself. Why do you always do this? Are you that stupid? “Shut up,” I repeat, tearing my hands through my hair. Hot tears roll down my cheeks.
Darry walks into my room, looking more angry than I’ve ever seen him. His face softens as his gaze lands on me. “Pony—” He starts, but I cut him off.
“Don’t. Please.” I take a shaking breath. “Please, just…go. I can’t—I can’t handle this.” I take a few steps away from him. From everything.
“Pony,” Darry says slowly. “What happened in Windrixville?”
I pause. A kid died because of me, that’s what happened. “Nothing.”
“Pony—”
“I said nothing!” I yell. I take another deep breath and say, “Sorry. I’m sorry. I just…I can’t. I can’t right now.” I sit down at the edge of my bed, putting my head down in my hands. How was I supposed to deal with this? My closest friend just got arrested and I didn’t stop it. I could’ve convinced him otherwise, and I didn’t. What kind of friend am I? Now, Johnny is in jail and possibly awaiting trial and I didn’t stop it .
“Soda still isn’t awake yet and I’d like to keep it that way.” I look up at Darry. He has a sort of helpless look on his face, like he’s completely unsure on how to help. I’m not entirely sure how he’d help either. “Uh, get some rest. It’s still early.” I almost scoff at that. Like I was gonna get any sleep after this. Darry sighs and walks away.
I let out a strangled sob, falling back on the bed. I desperately want a cigarette. Johnny’s in jail. “Shut up.” If he’s found guilty, he’s getting the death sentence. “Shut up!” I sit up and reach onto the table beside my bed for a pack of cigarettes. I fumble to take one out of the pack, standing and walking to the kitchen. On my way out, I threw the pack onto my bed. I look through drawers in the kitchen, looking for a lighter, almost frantically. “Where is it?” I whisper at no one in particular. I throw down the cig, giving up on that advance. I walk to the fridge. Two-Bit keeps his stash of beer here, and while I hate the taste, I need something to keep me away from my thoughts. I grab a beer bottle and open it with my teeth, then take a large swig. It burns as it goes down my throat, and it’s bitter and sour, but I keep drinking. I finish off the bottle, then start coughing.
“Pony?”
I turn to look at Soda, my vision a little fuzzy around the edges. He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest, his brows furrowed with that worried look I’ve seen too many times. His jaw is clenched, but his eyes are soft, like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on inside my head. “What are you doing?” he asks, his voice low but sharp. His gaze drops to the bottle in my hand. “Is that… beer?”
I shift uncomfortably, feeling a sudden wave of heat creep up my neck. Soda takes a few steps closer, so I take a few shaky steps back. The room spins slightly as I move, and I grip the edge of the counter to steady myself. My stomach churns with unease, and the taste of the beer still lingers, bitter and sour in my mouth. I don’t know why I even tried it in the first place.
“Are you okay?” Soda’s voice is softer this time, like he’s afraid I’m gonna fall apart right in front of him.
“Why does everyone keep asking that?” I snap, my words slurring slightly. The anger in my chest flares up before I can stop it. I throw the half-empty beer bottle into the trash can with more force than I intended. The glass clinks against the side, and for a second, I think it might shatter, but it doesn’t. My head’s spinning from the beer—my first ever. I had never been drunk before, but I’m pretty sure I was now. And it did not feel nice. My insides feel all twisted up, and there’s a heavy weight pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe, hard to think straight.
Soda scoffs, crossing his arms even tighter, like he’s trying to hold himself back. “Because we’re worried about you,” he says, his voice tight with frustration. “Since when did you drink beer, huh? That’s not like you.” He pauses for a second, his eyes searching mine, like he’s trying to see through whatever mess I’m in. “And where is Johnny?” At the mention of Johnny, my stomach drops, and the room tilts even more. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, and I suddenly feel sick, like I’m gonna hurl. “Pony?”
“He…” I start, but my voice cracks, trailing off into nothing. My mind flashes back to the scene, the smell of smoke, the heat of the fire. You could’ve stopped him. I swallow hard, feeling my throat tighten. “He’s fine.” The words feel wrong, empty. I brace myself against the counter, trying to steady my shaking hands. My breath comes in quick, shallow bursts like I can’t get enough air.
“That wasn’t the question,” Soda says softly, but there’s an edge to his voice. He takes another step closer, closing the space between us. This time, I don’t back away. I can’t. “Ponyboy,” he presses, his eyes locked on mine. “Are you really okay?”
The words hit me like a punch in the gut. I look at him, but I can’t hold it in anymore. “A kid died,” I blurt out, the words spilling out before I can stop them. My chest tightens, and I grip the counter harder, knuckles turning white. “In Windrixville. At the church. It—it set fire, and there were kids in there. I wanted to go in and help them, I tried , but Dally… Dally stopped me.” My voice wavers, thick with guilt. “And a kid died, Soda. A little kid… because I didn’t do anything.” The tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back, my voice growing more frantic. “I could’ve done something. I should’ve done something, and I didn’t! And now—” My breath hitches, and I press a hand to my chest, trying to breathe through the panic rising inside me. “Now Johnny’s in jail because he turned himself in. And I… I could’ve stopped that too. I could’ve convinced him not to go. I could’ve made him stay.” My voice cracks again, raw and desperate. “But I didn’t. And now Johnny—he’s gonna get the electric chair, Soda. They’re gonna kill him because he murdered that guy, and I—I don’t know what I’m gonna do without him. I don’t know what any of us would do without him.” My words tumble out faster, like I’m losing control of them, my heart pounding in my chest. “I just— I can’t… I can’t take it right now. I can’t lose him, too.” The room feels too small, like the walls are closing in, and I don’t know how to stop it.
Soda steps forward again, and this time I speak up about it. “Stop doing that! Stop moving closer like doing that’s going to help!” Soda flinches back. “Just leave me alone.” I walk away, grabbing another bottle of beer as I leave. I don’t close the fridge door.
Over the next few days, I spent my time in my room, either getting drunk or smoking at least one pack of cigarettes a day. The gang came over a couple of times, but I think Soda told them not to bother me. While I was very grateful for that, I was getting kinda lonely. I missed Johnny. Soda told me a while ago that Dally had been visiting Johnny while he was awaiting his trial. He tried convincing me to go see him, but I couldn’t handle it. Still can’t, I don’t think.
Now, I was laying on the floor with discarded beer bottles around me, wallowing in my own misery. Someone knocked on the door. “Who is it?” I yell, my words slightly slurred together.
“It’s Dally.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I lay there on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. I had hoped it was Soda at the door, maybe even Darry—as long as he wasn’t going to lecture me about drinking again. I’d zoned out for most of that conversation anyway. “Come in,” I called back, not even bothering to move.
Dally steps inside, closing the door behind him quietly. He walks over and, without saying a word, lowers himself to the floor beside me. He lies down with a small gap between us, like he’s trying not to crowd me. “You doing okay?” he asks, his voice softer than I’m used to.
I roll my eyes this time. “Do I look okay?”
He lets out a long, slow sigh. “I guess not.”
I turn my head just enough to glance over at him. Dally’s staring up at the ceiling, his brow furrowed, like he’s thinking about something that’s got him worried. That look—one I’ve never seen before—makes me uneasy. Dally’s always the one in control, the one who knows what to do. Seeing him like this feels…wrong. “Are you okay?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. It sounds stupid, asking Dally if he’s alright, but something about the way he’s laying there makes me wonder if I’m not the only one struggling to hold it together.
He doesn’t answer straight away. He just stares at the ceiling for a while, his chest rising and falling with each slow breath he takes, like he’s trying to keep himself calm. The silence stretches out between us, and it makes my skin crawl. I’m not used to seeing him like this—quiet, unsettled. Usually, Dally’s the one in control, the one who knows what to do. Then, he speaks. “I’m worried.” He looks over at me. “About Johnny. His trial’s tomorrow and… What if he’s found guilty?” I frown. He’s voicing the same worries I’ve had for the past few days.
“I don’t know,” I lied. I know exactly what’ll happen if Johnny’s found guilty. He’ll get the electric chair and die. Then, we’ll never see him again. I look up at the ceiling with a sigh. I watch as the light flickers on and off.
We both sit there in a comfortable silence, but the stress of the upcoming trial looms over us like a dark cloud.
Dally and I sit in the courtroom, waiting for the trial to begin. We’re both dressed up in the best clothes we have, but they’re nothing compared to what everyone else is wearing. I keep messing with the collar of my shirt, feeling like I don’t belong here. Dally’s slouched next to me, looking just as out of place, his face set in a hard, unreadable expression. Up front, Johnny’s sitting on the witness stand. He looks small, smaller than usual, with his hair combed back and his eyes staring down at the floor. I don’t think he’s looked up once since we walked in.
People keep moving in and out, lawyers talking in low voices, like this is just another day for them. But for us, it’s everything. The trial starts, and they begin asking all these questions, dragging up the night in the park. It’s like they’re picking it apart, talking about Bob, about the knife, about how Johnny acted in self-defense. I know that. Johnny didn’t have a choice, but they keep talking like there’s more to it. They bring in witnesses—Randy and some of his friends from the Socs, looking nervous as they give their version of what happened that night. Dally’s jaw tightens when it’s his turn to speak. He keeps it short, sticking to the facts, but I can see how much this is getting to him. And then it’s my turn. I tell them what I saw, what I know, but the words feel heavy in my mouth.
I keep sneaking glances at Johnny, hoping for a sign that this will end okay, but the more they talk, the more it feels like there’s nothing we can do. Like the whole thing’s already out of our hands.
At one point, Johnny’s parents are brought in. I could tell he was not happy about it; he kept glaring at them as they spoke. His parents went on and on about how much of a hassle it was to raise Johnny and how he was “such a menace,” which I knew wasn’t true. Johnny is the nicest person I know. And when Johnny went back up on those stands, he made that known. He spoke about how his father was abusive and his mother was neglectant. After he spoke, it was decided another trial would be brought up about his parents.
After what felt like forever, the jury finally stopped talking among themselves. The whole courtroom went quiet, like everyone was holding their breath. I felt like I couldn’t breathe either. My hands were clenched so tight in my lap that my knuckles had gone white. Dally, sitting beside me, had gone completely still, his face tense, but he kept his eyes straight ahead. I knew he was just as on edge as I was, maybe even more. Johnny didn’t even look up. He just stared at the floor, still and silent, like he was bracing himself for the worst.
The judge cleared his throat, and my heart pounded in my ears as he started to speak. I didn’t catch all of it—something about self-defense, about how Johnny was acting to protect me, how it wasn’t murder. The words blurred together, but then I heard the part that mattered most.
“Not guilty.”
For a second, I wasn’t sure I’d heard it right. I turned to Dally, who sat there, staring straight ahead, as if he couldn’t believe it either. Then, his lips twitched into the smallest smile—something rare for him. My heart was racing, but in a good way this time. I couldn’t believe it. Johnny was free. He wasn’t going to jail. Johnny finally looked up, his eyes wide and full of something I hadn’t seen in a long time—hope. He glanced at me, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was a spark of life back in his eyes. The courtroom started to clear out, people shuffling around and talking in low voices, but I barely heard any of it. All I could think was, We did it. Johnny’s gonna be okay.
After the courtroom clears out, me, Johnny, and Dally head outside, sitting on a bench. The verdict had come in—Johnny wasn’t going to jail. It was all over, but the weight of everything that happened still hung heavy in the air. Johnny hadn’t said a word since we left the courtroom. He sat with his hands clasped between his knees, staring at the ground like he wasn’t quite sure what to do now. Dally stood against the wall, lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag.
“Johnny…” I started, my voice sounding small. “You okay?”
He blinked a few times, like he’d just snapped out of a trance, then looked over at me. “Yeah. I guess I’m still trying to figure out if that really just happened.” His voice was quiet, like he didn’t want to believe it until he was sure it wouldn’t be taken away.
Dally exhaled a cloud of smoke, shaking his head. “You got lucky, Johnnycake. Damn lucky. I thought for sure…” He stopped himself, glancing over at me. “Well, it don’t matter what I thought. What matters is you’re not locked up.”
Johnny nodded slowly but didn’t say anything. I could see the tension still in his shoulders. Even though we’d won, it felt like something was still holding him down.
“We made it, Johnny,” I said, leaning forward, trying to catch his eye. “It’s over. You’re not going to jail.”
Johnny finally looked up at me, his eyes soft and tired. “But what if… what if they’re right, Pony? What if I should’ve gone? I mean… I killed a guy. I—”
Dally cut him off. “You did what you had to do. Don’t you start thinkin’ like that. That Soc had it coming, and if you didn’t do it, you’d be the one dead right now.” Johnny flinched a little at Dally’s words but didn’t argue. He just stared down at his shoes like he was still trying to figure it all out in his head.
“Johnny,” I said softly. “That Soc was trying to drown me. You didn’t want to hurt nobody, but you didn’t have a choice. And now… now you got a chance. We all do.”
Johnny’s hands were trembling, and he quickly wiped them on his pants, like he didn’t want us to see. “I don’t know, Pony. I just don’t know if I can go back to… to the way things were. Everything’s different now.”
Dally took another drag off his cigarette, his voice gruffer than usual. “Yeah, things change, but that don’t mean you gotta stay stuck in it. You’re out, Johnny. And we’re gonna stick together, like we always have. Ain’t nobody gonna touch you while I’m around.”
Johnny looked up at Dally, and for a moment, there was something like gratitude in his eyes. “I know you got my back, Dal. I just… I don’t know how to deal with all this, you know? It’s like I’m still back in that church.”
“None of us really know,” I said quietly. “We’re all just trying to figure it out, one day at a time.”
For a second, nobody spoke. The wind blew through the trees, and the noise from the street drifted in from somewhere far off. It felt like the world outside was moving on, while we were still trying to catch up. Then Dally tossed his cigarette butt on the ground, stomping it out. “Look, we’ve been through worse. You’ve been through worse. So stop lookin’ at the ground like you’re waitin’ for the next bad thing to happen. It’s over, Johnny. And you’ve still got us.”
Johnny gave a small, tired smile. “Thanks, Dal.”
I nudged Johnny with my elbow. “And besides, we still gotta figure out what happens next. You ain’t getting out of this that easy. I’m not letting you go hide out in the lot every day. We’re gonna stick together, remember?”
Johnny chuckled, the sound soft and weak, but it was real. “Yeah. I remember.”
And for the first time in a while, I felt like we were all gonna be okay.