Come Down From Your Fences

Chapter 8

Johnny wished he hadn't promised his nurse, Anna, that he'd finish the soup before eating the jello. The bowl of beef broth was one of the most unappetizing things he'd ever seen. She stopped in to see how he was progressing and frowned when she saw the bowl was untouched. "Everything okay?" she asked.

Johnny felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment. He didn't want to cause problems or be a bother. "Yeah, uh ... well, can't I have a burger or something?" he asked softly.

Anna smiled. "No solid food for a few days, Johnny," she explained. "Trust me - your head may want a burger but your stomach isn't ready yet."

"Do you need help?" she asked, already knowing the answer. Boys, especially teenagers, never liked to ask for help. They were notoriously stubborn.

Shaking his head, Johnny looked down at his hands, folded in his lap. His arms were tightly bandaged, the burns still healing. They didn't hurt much, not like before, but he was having a hard time getting his muscles to obey his commands. The doctor said that was because of the coma, from not moving for so long.

"All right," she sighed, "if you're positive you don't need any help, I'll be on my way. Just press the button if you need me."

Anna was headed for the door when she suddenly stopped and turned around. "It is great, though, to hear you complain about the food. Now I know you're on the road to recovery." She left the room, gently closing the door behind her.

Johnny stared at the door, letting what she said sink in. Anna had been his nurse before he'd been in the coma. At that time, she'd been cold and business-like. She'd barely made eye contact with him, and when she did, all he'd see was pity. She seemed different now that she no longer looked at him as though she was waiting for him to die.

In fact, everyone was acting differently around him, especially his doctor. Today he was talking about recovery, physical therapy, and the future. Johnny couldn't believe he was actually going to have a future to think about. He had been so prepared to die that all of this felt like some bizarre dream.

They'd moved him to a new room earlier in the day, away from the chaos and noise of Intensive Care. It was nice not having a dozen or so doctors and nurses hanging around outside the door every time he woke up.

He looked at the soup and picked up the spoon, resigned to his burger-free fate. His movements were shaky and unsteady, but he managed to eat a spoonful without spilling it down the front of his hospital gown. It tasted as bland and awful as it looked - definitely not worth the effort, but he kept eating anyway.

He was almost finished when the door opened and Ponyboy stepped inside his room. He was carrying a bag of books, which was bulging at the seams - not an uncommon sight when it came to Ponyboy. Johnny rarely, if ever, brought his books home with him.

Pony took a few steps forward then stopped in his tracks, staring, open-mouthed, at Johnny.

"Wh-what?" Johnny stuttered self-consciously, his spoon frozen in mid-air. He was relieved when a smile spread across Ponyboy's face.

"You - look at you. You're sitting up." Ponyboy motioned to the bed, the top half raised, supporting Johnny's back.

Johnny shrugged, dropping the spoon into the bowl. "It's no big deal," he said quietly, running his fingers through his bangs - a nervous habit he'd had ever since he could remember.

"Of course it's a big deal," Pony said as he dropped his bag on the floor and flopped into the chair next to the bed.

Johnny gently rapped on his stomach, creating a knocking sound. "Back brace," he explained with a small grin.

Ponyboy wrinkled his brow, "well, that sounds comfortable."

"You have no idea. But, at least I don't have to stare at the ceiling anymore." Johnny pushed the almost empty bowl of soup to the side and pulled the bowl of red jello closer. He tried not to sigh when he ate the first bite, but he failed.

"Man, thank God they didn't find a way to screw up jello," he said more to himself than to Ponyboy.

Pony grinned, "I guess I should be thankful I didn't have to eat anything when I was in the hospital. I was so out of it ..." his voice trailed off when he noticed the look on Johnny's face.

"When were you in the hospital?"

"Um, the night of the rumble. It's a long story and everything is fine now." Johnny didn't believe him, but he let it drop.

Ponyboy grabbed his bag and opened it, a few books toppling to the floor. "I, uh, stopped by library and picked out a couple of books," he explained as he rushed to pick up the scattered volumes. "I figured I could read them to you or you could, you know, read them yourself."

"Look, here's Oliver Twist - I haven't read this one yet, but it sounds good. Huckleberry Finn - we read it in class, I think you'll like it. Catcher in the Rye - Darry really liked this one." As Pony rattled off titles, he created a stack on the nightstand next to the paperback copy of Gone With the Wind.

He stopped and picked up the book, running his fingers over the cover, remembering the time spent reading it. "We could always finish reading this," he said.

Johnny thought for a moment and realized continuing with the book would be like being back in the church again. "I don't know, Pony ... maybe not right now," Johnny explained, not really vocalizing his fears, but he knew Pony would understand.

Pony finished assembling his mini-library and returned to his seat. "So ..." he started, unsure of what to say next.

"So ... "Johnny repeated, "How's the gang?"

"Well, me and Darry are getting along a little better." Ponyboy shrugged as he said it, like he didn't quite believe it.

"You'll see Soda today, he and Steve are gonna pick me up after they get off work. Don't mention Sandy around Soda. They broke-up while we were in Windrixville, and he's still taking it pretty hard. Steve's the same - still fighting with his old man. And Two-Bit's been visiting you a lot with me. That's pretty much it."

Johnny was quiet, obviously thinking. "What about Dally?" he asked, wondering why Ponyboy left him off his list.

"Well," Pony started, fidgeting with the seam of his jeans, "Dally got in some trouble."

"And ..." Johnny prompted.

"And ... he's in jail."

"Jail? What for?"

"Well, the night of the rumble, he robbed a convenience store with a heater and he got shot by the cops." Johnny's face blanched and Pony quickly added, "He's okay now. But, with his record and everything, he got sent away for 6 months. And the judge told him he was getting off lightly cause he helped rescue those kids."

Johnny didn't say anything at first, letting the news sink in. "Well," he said slowly, "I guess it could have been worse."

Johnny looked at Ponyboy. His eyes were shuttered; as though he was remembering something he'd just as soon forget. Johnny realized Ponyboy must have been there when Dallas got shot.

"Yeah," Ponyboy said quietly, "it could have been much worse."