You're Dead To Me || ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴜᴛꜱɪᴅᴇʀꜱ

The Ones Who Know

Ponyboy Curtis...

Malkovich explains everything. Not the best 'explanation', but I sat down with him and told him that I'd listen. So I did. I don't think any of us knew he had this side to him--I think I'm probably the only one out of the gang who knows. I don't doubt Soda knew though. I guess he just kept it between them two, I can see why.

I moved closer to Malko. I notice he looks like how Soda did on that night Darry and I promised we'd stop ghting for him. at lost expression, I don't know how to put it. It breaks my heart to see a grown man like this. He isn't just a man, he's also part boy.

Maybe almost every man is. But especially Malkovich. I remember Johnny, the puppy who's been kicked around too many times. He was a boy.

But at the end, I don't know what or who he died as. It still aches my core to know that he's dead. Not "dead" like how he was in that hospital. That would've been fine, but no, he's really dead. Died in the worst way possible, for all of us. Did he die twice? Was it just once, was it an illusion? My chest heaves and I rock in place.

Johnny Cade died a manipulator.

Then I get an idea. "Hey, Malko. I wanna do something with you. We need to go somewhere where we can buy matches and gasoline." I get up and Malko looks at me with a puzzled expression.

"What are you talking about, Ponyboy? Are you feeling alright?" He asks. I take his hand and pull him up with me. "Yes! I just need you to drive me to this store. I need your help to get things, and then we'll keep it between us. Trust me, Malko." I plead him, "trust me."

He agrees on one condition, to let him know what we're doing as we're on our way. I nod, we get in the car and start driving. I'm in the passenger seat.

I roll down the window and my frosty-blond bangs sways 'cause the breeze, they brush out of my eyes. I smile as I see the stars setting in their place as twilight dawns. We drove all the way to Windrixville.

I glance back to Malko, the radio's on. He placed a tape by The Beach Boys in the cassette, Wouldn't It Be Nice. I wasn't ever particularly fond of the band, nor the Beatles, but apparently Malko is. But he digs all right, the song's growing on me. His music taste suits his style. I think I like it.

We get out of the car and walk to the site, crosses adorned the meadow. We walked up the small hill, not far from where we parked the car. The song is still playing from the car.

We see the crosses of many individuals with their names plastered on it, all these people buried. All these souls up in the heavens above. Or below. We mosey on until we find it. My soul springs when I see the name: JOHNNY CADE.

"Here it is! I knew it'd be here!" I grab Malko's arm and pulled him over.

"Oh."

We douse the wooden cross in gasoline, I pick up a stick and scratch out Johnny's name. "Hurry up, Pony," Malko rolls his eyes as he gets impatient.

I take in every moment I can get, savoring it. I throw the stick on the ground, "OK, there." Malko sighs deeply, "ready?" I nod and we both light our matches.

We warily make contact with the wood, the second it touches, it lights on re. We drop the matches and back away in amazement. Malko's eyes light ablaze.

We back away, walking backwards toward the car. Malkovich gets in the car and starts it, meanwhile I don't even dare shi my body away from the sight.

I guess one way or another, Johnny will be on fire. For eternity.

"DON'T KEEP THE DEVIL WAITING FOR A FRIEND, CADE!" I yell spontaneously, I race to the car and get into the passenger's seat. Malko pulls me in gracelessly, the door slams. We can't help but laugh, Malko presses on the pedal with full force, sending us onto the road.