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Ponyboy always either had his nose in a book or his head in the clouds.
It was what he was known for in the group. Whether Darry would scoff, wishing he would put his head to more conventional focuses or Dally would ignore him while he was being drawn, Pony would be the daydreamer of the group and that was that.
Though, Pony hasn’t drawn in a while. There’s just been a lot on his plate recently. Alas, today, he finally managed to clear his schedule so he dusted off his sketchbook, whipped out his pencil and sat down on the front porch.
Nothing hit him.
No sparks of inspiration, no bouts of life picked at his brain. Artist’s block was a real struggle for him lately. If only the sky was blessed with the colors of dawn or dusk, he'd never run out of ideas. Unfortunately it was smack dab in the middle of the day so there was nothing but blue for now.
He shouldn't complain though. He learned the best thing about his favorite hours was that they were always fleeting. It always gave just the right amount, not too little, not too much.
Pony stared out onto the pebble and dirt streets of his neighborhood. Maybe a walk oughta do him some good.
He closed up his sketchbook and hopped off the porch stairs. In any case, it would be a good time killer if he doesn't find anything.
He walked around for not more than an hour. He enjoyed walks. It was easy ’cause it didn't cost anything and he did track so it was good for him regardless.
Eventually Pony came to the lot. Little did he know, the igniter he needed to set off that spark he needed was waiting for him there.
“Pony!”
“Oh, hey, Johnny!” Pony hurried over, shooting him a small smile. “Whadda doin’?”
“Just waitin’ for Two-Bit. Said he’d come out and play some football with me.” He held up the ball like he needed proof. “How about you?”
“Just takin’ a walk.” Pony then made himself comfortable sitting down on a spot beneath a nice tree.
Johnny promptly began to practice kicking the ball and Pony began watching. To him, anyone could look real tuff if they look like they know what they’re doing in any sort of sport and, boy, Johnny looked like he’s known what he’s been doing for years.
Pony bit his pencil, staring down at the blank pages resting easy on his lap. Should he…? Well, he didn’t have to feel weird about it. Pony drew Dally all the time and he didn’t even like Dally that much so what was different?
Johnny was his best bud. He should be able to draw him even just by memory. Still, something made Pony pause. On the chances he drew Johnny, he always felt he would have to make it real good or else he’d just feel silly for even trying.
Maybe it was actually a good thing the sky was all bright. Pony could see Johnny’s face in its entirety. He had pure black hair matching his eyes. He could blend into the background of the night real easily if he needed to.
‘alright…’
Pony toughened up and drew the first line.
Pony could capture any of the gang into a single frame and a stranger would be able to tell what kind of character that person was.
He started with Johnny’s face. The obvious choice would be to give him a dark or scared expression but…was that what he was going for?
Pony usually tried to make his drawings true to life. He rarely went out of bounds. He stuck to references and what he knew.
Something was different though and it made Pony think.
Who was Johnny Cade?
He should know the answer. Like he said, Johnny was Pony’s best bud. He was the pet of the group. He was the sad kid who got beat by his dad and yelled at by his mom every other day…But that could be any other kid.
Pony looked up at the sky.
There could be hundreds of kids in Tulsa that could say they’re the pet of their gang, that they had their own best friend, and way more that could say their parents couldn’t care less about them. There were so many kids out there that were just like Johnny.
But also, they weren’t Johnny. Johnny was something special to Pony. Maybe it was the way they didn’t have to say anything when he was with him but they understood each other completely or the way that, despite his defeated look due to all the dirt the world spat down on him, he still got to see him manage to live past each day’s sunset.
So, Pony put his pencil to the page and drew a slight smile on Johnny’s face.
It wasn’t a wide grin, in fact it was almost barely noticeable, but it was a warm expression Pony could picture on Johnny’s face.
“Hey, Ponyboy, whatcha drawin’?”
Startled, Pony slammed the notebook onto his chest and looked up. He turned his head to see Two-Bit with his signature cocked-eyebrow look standing over his shoulder.
At least Pony knows what expression to give Two-Bit the next time he draws him.
“Glory, Two-Bit! Why you always gotta be scarin’ everyone like that?”
“My bad, kid.” He grinned, rubbing the back of his neck before plopping himself down next to Pony.
Pony closed his sketchbook, looking up and surveying the lot, “Hey, where’s Johnny?”
“Went to get some water. Said he won’t be long.”
“Oh.” That was fine. Pony could use a short break.
“Sooo, what’re you drawin’?” Two-Bit repeated himself.
“Nothin’...it’s just Johnny.”
“Oooh! Lemme see!” Two-Bit pressed with much enthusiasm. This guy got real entertained by just about anything. Shoot, he found school out of all things fun. Pony never understood how someone like him could enjoy school.
There wasn’t any reason for Pony not to show him so he casually flipped through the pages, “It’s not done yet, though.”
Two-Bit stared at the page awed. “Shoot, kid, this is tuff! You got a real good Johnny-vibe on here!”
“It’s really nothin’. It’s not even finished.”
“Well, if this ain’t it, the finished thing must be worth a mint. You oughta work on the cartoon program someday. Get a few kicks outta it, they probably make tons too.”
“I don’t know, Two, I haven’t really thought about anything past college.”
“Eh, I’m sure, you’ll figure somethin’ out. You got the most time outta all of us.” Two-Bit patted Pony on the shoulder before hopping back onto his feet and running back out onto the field calling out to Johnny.
Pony picked the pencil up again. He stared up at Johnny and Two-Bit for a brief moment, getting a bit distracted just watching. He kept his eyes on Johnny, telling himself he’s just focusing on him for research purposes.
Because why else would Pony be staring at him? He was playing real good at the time, running around and looking like he’s having fun.
Maybe that was it. He looked like he was enjoying himself and Pony liked knowing Johnny was enjoying himself.
Johnny wasn’t even the most handsome person Pony could name. Of course, Johnny was good-looking but his looks didn’t really stick out to him whenever Pony looked in his direction. No, he mostly noticed the way he carried himself, or the way his eyes lit up when he listened to him talking about whatever and all sorts of other things Pony noticed about him.
Johnny always used his jean jacket. It was probably his favorite since his parents usually don’t get him new clothes. It matched him. It had a collar for him to flip up whenever needed and pockets for him to hide his hands in. If Pony got the money somehow, he could get him another jacket. It got pretty easy for Pony to draw jackets, even the ones with buncha buttons or details.
Pony stared at the page for a bit wondering if he was missing anything. ‘Maybe just a few more lines?’ He told himself. It didn’t need it but he felt that he could always make it better.
Soon after he finally put his pencil down, Pony heard a couple of chatting voices approaching. He looked up and it seemed like Johnny and Two-Bit were finished with their game.
“You sure you can’t stay one more minute?”
“Sorry, Johnnycakes, but my Ma needs me back. Give the old people a rest, kid.” Two-Bit ruffled Johnny’s hair.
“You ain’t old, Two. You’re only eighteen.” Johnny swatted Two-Bit’s hand away and fixed up his hair.
“Shoot, eighteen? I musta’ forgot. You know us old folks’ and how our memory starts ta’ act up. Hey, Johnnycake, what’s my age again?”
“Oh, quit it.”
“Just kiddin’,” Two-Bit smirked, “Anyway, I’m not talkin’ ‘bout myself. I gotta skedaddle. Don’t get too lonely without me. You got your lil’ admirer over here to keep you company.”
Pony glared up at Two-Bit which caused him to laugh as he walked away. He didn't care though.
“What was that ‘bout?” Johnny sat down next to Pony.
Pony shrugged before going back to staring at his page, “Just Two-Bit being Two-Bit.”
They both remained in their usual nice sense of tranquility and quiet for a bit.
Johnny looked up at the sky for a second before scooting closer to Pony, “so, what are you drawin’ this time, Pone’?”
Pony held his sketchbook close to his chest but not all the way. Maybe he just didn’t feel like it was ready to be shown off yet. Though, when Johnny looked away again, it made him feel kinda bad for hiding it.
“You.”
“Hm?”
“I drew you.” Pony, turning his sketchbook over in Johnny’s direction, picked at the grass below him with his fingers.
“This is me?” Johnny gazed in admiration at the page. “Golly, this is really good, Pony! Your art’s gotten real nice!”
“You think?” Pony grinned at Johnny.
“O’ course. You’re one of the best artists I've ever known. I’d say this looks even better than I do.”
“Don’t say that.” Pony elbowed him with the tiniest amount of force.
“Hey, man,” Johnny peered into Pony’s eyes, “you know you’re a great artist, right?”
Pony leaned his head on Johnny’s shoulder. “Well, shoot,” He felt his face redden. “Thanks, Johnny. That means a lot.”