Come Down From Your Fences

Chapter 15

Sitting on his bunk, Dally looked at the envelop in his hands. It was from Ponyboy. So far, the only letters he'd received were from Johnny. Nobody else had written to him while he'd been locked up, and he liked it that way. Letters were for guys with attachments, with families. Dally had neither and that's the way he wanted it.

Dallas,

It sure feels strange to write you a letter. You don't really seem like the letter reading type to me.

"Damn straight, kid," Dally mumbled.

Johnny said he wrote you a couple of times but he hadn't heard back from you. So I guess you're not really the letter writing type, either.

It feels like you've been gone forever, although I'm pretty sure it seems longer on your end. The gang misses you. I know you'd never admit it, but I bet you miss us, too.

Dally stood up and began pacing as he continued reading. His cellmate, napping on the top bunk, was roused by Dally's movements.

"Somethin' wrong, Winston?" Tony asked, half awake.

"How many times I gotta tell you --"

"I know, I know. 'Mind your own fucking business' ," Tony said with a yawn and then rolled over, his back to Dally.

Johnny's getting a little bit better every day. He started physical therapy a couple of days ago. It wears him out something fierce, but he's getting stronger.

My grades aren't as good as they should be and Darry's been giving me hard time, but at least we aren't fighting as much as we used to.

Everybody else is pretty much the same. I don't know, it feels like we're all on hold, waiting for you to be released and for Johnny to come home. Waiting for everything to get back to normal, even though that's probably impossible now.

"Jesus, kid, just get on --" Dally started to say, then suddenly stopped and laughed in spite of himself.

It's strange, but I can actually hear you grumbling, "get on with it, kid." I'm sure you've probably realized that I had another reason for writing you a letter besides catching you up on the gang. I didn't think it would actually be this hard to talk to you on paper. I mean, it's not like you can punch me for saying something stupid while you're clear across town in the cooler.

"Yeah? Don't tempt me, kid," Dally thought.

I was sitting here, trying to come up with a topic for a paper I have to write, when I found a letter Johnny had written the night of the rumble. I have to tell you, reading that letter was one of the hardest things I've ever done. He really thought he was dying. I mean, how could he have not thought that - we all did.

Dally sat down and lit a cigarette, surprised to find his hand shaking slightly as he raised the match. This stuff didn't bother him, he told himself as he slowly inhaled the smoke. It didn't mean anything.

In the letter Johnny asks me to tell you a bunch of things - important things. Dally, I know you won't listen to me, so I've included Johnny's letter so you can read it for yourself. Please, read it and keep it. Give what he says a chance.

It's not too late to change your life. Shoot, Dally, your only 17 - you've got a whole lifetime ahead of you, it doesn't have to end under a street light.

Ponyboy Curtis

Dally stared at the envelop, Johnny's letter still enclosed in it. He could hear Tim Shepard in the back of his mind, taunting him, daring him to ignore it. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he pulled out the letter.

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"Sunsets, Doc. They want me to look at fuckin' sunsets."

Dally was pacing back and forth in front of Dr. Brown's desk. He had run his fingers through his hair so many times that it was standing on end. "Sunsets, man. What am I supposed to say to that?"

"I don't know. Maybe you could take their advice and take a look at one," Dr. Brown answered calmly, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Funny," Dally sneered as he pulled out a chair and sat down. He still couldn't believe he was back in the Doc's office, but he didn't know what to do.

Johnny's letter confused the hell out of him and he didn't have anyone to talk to about it. Tony was useless and Shepard, well, he had a pretty good idea what Tim's reaction would be. He could just see it now: Hey, Shepard, seen any good sunsets lately? He'd be dead before he hit the ground.

"I didn't mean for it to be funny. Look, I read the letter --"

"That's really not helping here, ya know," Dally said as he narrowed his eyes, not thrilled with the invasion of privacy.

Dr. Brown held up his hands as though to ward off an impending attack. "All mail is screened before prisoners get it, you know that. Anyway, I read the letter and I agree with both boys. You have time to change your life."

"Why does everybody suddenly see me as some sort of project, some lost soul that needs to be saved? I like my life just fine." Dally crossed his arms and rocked back in the chair.

"Then why is this bothering you so much?"

"Shit," Dally looked the ceiling and let out a bitter laugh. "You ain't gonna start with that psychoanalyzing crap again, are you?"

"It's my job, Dallas. If you don't want the psychoanalyzing crap then I suggest you find a nice janitor to talk to." Dr. Brown leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, mimicking Dally's body language. "So, there's a question on the table. Are you going to answer it, or are we going to pretend the only reason you asked to see me was because you enjoyed our last conversation so much?"

"Fine." Dally sat forward, resting all four legs of the chair firmly on the floor. "I guess what's bothering me is that I don't get why it's bothering me in the first place."

"How do you mean?"

"I shouldn't care about this shit. So Johnny wants me to look at a sunset, realize the whole world doesn't suck? So what? What will that prove?"

"That your whole life doesn't have to be filled with anger and violence. That you have a choice."

Dally shook his head in frustration. "Is every meeting we have gonna end up at the same place? Forget it. Comin' here was a stupid idea to begin with."

"You shut down when I say it because you know it's true." Dr. Brown said pointedly.

Dally stood up, pushing away the chair and started to head for the door. He stopped before he reached it and turned back to look at the doctor.

"Ya know, it's easy to sit there and talk about choices when you have a nice, cozy house to go home to." He pointed to a framed picture on the desk. "When you've got a wife and two kids waiting for you every night. Ya wanna know what I've got, Doc? Nothing. In my neighborhood, you either find a way out or you dig in and survive. I'm surviving the best way I know how."

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The sky was overcast and gloomy the next day. Tim Shepard was sitting alone on the bench Dallas usually occupied. Dally wasn't surprised to see him there.

"Hey," Dally said as a greeting.

"Hey," Tim returned, taking a drag on his cigarette.

Dally took a deep breath and jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

"So," he said with a cold grin, "does that offer still stand?"