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“Please tell me why I’m so afraid of dying alone so scared and so stoned”
October 25, 1966
“Two-bit’s here too,” was the first thing I’d said to Johnny when he finally woke up.
Johnny, who looked completely out of it, numb with whatever the doctors had drugged him with, only let out a groan.
“Uh, well, actually he’s not here right now, he left a couple minutes ago,” I continued, seeing as he hadn’t replied.
Johnny let out a weak breath, “That’s fine..” his voice was so soft (Course it was, Johnny’s voice was always soft. Everything Johnny was always soft) and quiet, and I had to move closer to his hospital bed to hear him.
He let out a wheeze, something that I could only describe as him trying to laugh, “First night in a real bed since a long time and it’s a hospital bed, ain't that funny, Pony?”
He wanted me to laugh, but I just couldn’t find it in me. I’m good at lying, not at acting, there’s a difference.
“Heh, I’m real bad off ain't I, Ponyboy?” He asked me, turning his head as much as he could while still laying on his stomach.
I gulped, I hadn’t looked at him since I watched them bring him in on a stretcher, I didn’t want to. “Awh, no, don’t say that, Johnnycake.”
“Don’t lie, Pony, there’s no reason to.”
I stared at my shoes, “Sorry,” I mumbled, and the room fell into an awkward-type of silence.
Johnny and I used to spend hours together in silence, content with it too. Sometimes, way before everything that had gone down, the two of us would just lay around or sit real close and just, exist together, enjoying the simple moment of us just being together. (I miss those times, yearn for them.)
This was different though, this wasn’t us existing together.
“I ain't gonna make it, Ponyboy, you gotta know that,” he said suddenly, filling the room with the topic I was hoping we’d ignore.
“Johnny-”
“No, Pony, I’m gonna die, and you know it.” He stated firmly, and he had the same look in his eyes as he did in the church.
I opened my mouth, but I didn’t have anything to say. He was right.
“I ain't even mad about it, anymore, I’m just scared,” he spoke softly, “I’ve missed out on so much too, Pony, things I ain't ever gonna do.”
I nodded, not saying anything, this was the most Johnny had said since the fire, I didn’t want to interrupt him at all.
“Did you know I ain't never even kissed nobody yet?”
“Never?” I asked, I hadn’t kissed anyone either (still haven’t), but Johnny was older than me, “Why not, Johnnycake?” It seemed dumb to ask, Johnny was dying and here we were talking about how he’d never been kissed, but it felt good, normal even. Like, if I imagined hard enough, Johnny and I were still in the church at Windrixville and he and I were sitting on the floor eating baloney sandwiches and just talking.
He let out what could’ve been a laugh, “Gee, Pony, I wish I knew,” he coughed, “there’s something wrong with me, ya know?”
“Yeah, Johnny,” I said dryly, “you're dying.” I didn’t need for him to tell me that again. It was one thing when the papers were talking about Johnny dying, it was another for Johnny to be the one saying it.
“Nah, Ponyboy, it ain't that, there’s something wrong with my head, I don’t think like you, or Two-bit, or anybody else in the gang. I’m different .”
“I know, Johnnycake,” I thought he was referring to the conversation we had while watching the sunrise at the church, “we both are.”
“No, man, I’m different in a way you’re not, okay?” he let out a pained groan, “Nevermind it, okay, Pony?”
I frowned, “No, Johnny, it’s okay, you call tell me, we’re friends.”
“Okay,” he muttered after a while, “but you gotta promise not to hate me after, Ponyboy. I won’t be able to stand dyin’ if I know you hate me.”
“Awh, Johnny, I could never hate you,” I assured him, honest to God. Johnny Cade was the last person I’d ever hate.
“I ain’t like the rest of the gang because, well, you all like girls.”
I furrowed my brows, confused, “I don’t like girls yet, Johnny.”
“Yeah, but you will someday, not me though,” he added quietly, “don’t even have enough days left to try.”
“I’m not gettin’ what you’re sayin’, Johnnycake…”
“I like boys, Ponyboy, love ‘em, if we’re bein’ honest here.”
“Oh,” I stared, not knowing what to say, “Oh.”
He let out a whimper that made him sound like a wounded dog, “You know what, forget I even said nothing, kid.”
“No, Johnny, I-”
“Look, I’m messed up, Ponyboy, I know I am. It’s better if I die anyway. Lord knows I’ve always wanted to.”
I shook my head, “Now, Johnny, don’t say that, there’s people like you out in the world.”
He let out another wheeze, “People like me, ya mean queers, Ponyboy?” I opened my mouth to object, but he just continued, “Sure there are, but most end up dead anyways. Like me.”
I felt helpless at the moment, not knowing what to do. I must’ve been giving Johnny a serious case of pity eyes, and I was glad the nurses had laid him on his stomach, because I know he would’ve hated it.
“Plus, I’d never want to be kissed by any of them anyway. I only want one guy, and he’s someone I can’t have.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to guess who he was talking about. Johnny didn’t hang out with many guys besides the gang, usually hanging out with Dallas and I, though mainly he stuck to Dally. And that’s when it dawned on me.
Johnny liked Dally. Johnny Cade liked Dallas Winston. (Loved him, if we’re being honest here) Probably since forever, and nobody had known it. They never would. And then I had even more realizations.
Johnny would die loving Dallas, and he would never find out. Johnny would die loving Dally and I would be the only one to know it.
“I-” I paused, thinking over my words, “Thanks for telling me, Johnnycake, it means a lot.”
Johnny made a noise, and I think he might’ve smiled, (why would he have smiled?) I think he was gonna say something but then Two-bit bursted in and interrupted them.
“Hey, kids! I brought the book you wanted, Johnnycake!” Two-bit yelled as he walked into the room, handing Gone with the Wind to me.
I gave him a glare, and he cocked his brow in his usual Two-bit fashion. (He doesn’t do it that much anymore. I miss it.)
“Shit, is the kid sleeping?” he asked, his voice still loud as all hell.
“No, I’m awake, Two-bit,” Johnny mumbled, and Two-bit only grinned.
“Aye, fancy see you here, Johnnycake, you doin’ alright?”
“Eh, I’ve been better.”
He only chuckled, “Glad you’re still able to joke around, kid,” his face morphed into something serious, it looked unnatural on Two-bit’s face. “You’re gonna be alright, kid. You’re gonna make it, you gotta. Right, Pony?”
He turned to me and I gave him a small smile and said, “Yeah, you’ll be fine, Johnnycake.” Even though deep down, I knew he wouldn't .