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Johnny Cade wasn’t just a greaser. When it comes down to it, we’re all just plain, ordinary people…Johnny taught me that. Whether you’re considered a Soc or a greaser, or maybe even a member of the middle class…you’re a person. The rivalry between the social classes has been going on for some time now, and, sadly, it had to come to this―three kids dying―to make people think that it was wrong. Johnny didn’t kill that boy on purpose. He did it to save me…and he was the one that needed saving. Johnny’s parents beat him, and we would do the best we could to try and make things better for him…but we all knew it wasn’t enough. Johnny craved his parents’ attention. He even told me once that he thought he liked it best when his dad was beating him because at least then he knew that Johnny was there. Johnny had it rough. All of us greasers think that we have it rough, but our problems are nothing compared to what Johnny had to deal with when he went home. No matter what Johnny was going through, though…he was always there for the rest of us. There aren’t many people like that.
I remember lying on our backs and watching the stars. One night we even spent the night in the vacant lot that Johnny sometimes slept in when he didn’t want to go home and have to deal with his parents. When I was in a rough spot with my family, Johnny helped me out. He walked to the park with me to help me blow off some steam so I could go home. That was where we were attacked by the group of Socs. They were drunk and planned to drown me. Johnny grabbed his switchblade and stabbed the leader…the others ran away. I remember waking up to see Johnny looking more afraid than I’d ever seen him. Even if he killed the boy in self-defense, it shook him. On the train to Windrixville, Johnny let me sleep. He was tired too but gave me the little space we had to rest my head for a while. Johnny seemed to do everything he could for me, and he was the greatest friend you could ask for. Those nights we spent hiding in the abandoned church in Windrixville were some of the coldest, most uncomfortable nights I’ve ever had…but I was with Johnny and I didn’t plan on being anywhere else. Johnny was my buddy, and I’d do anything for him. When Johnny went out to get supplies, some of the items he got were soap and a paperback copy of Gone with the Wind, things that made me realize that if I had a choice to be put into this situation earlier, I would’ve picked Johnny to be the one to kill the time with. He was smart…some people thought he wasn’t the brightest but he was, he just learned slowly, and that was it.
When he went in after me to save those little kids after the church caught on fire, I was thankful for him being there to help me out again. We picked those kids up and helped them out a window so that they could get to safety. Johnny didn’t have to help me out then, but he did. He risked his life to help me save those little kids. Our friend Dallas was a good guy, too. He helped us get to Windrixville, and even though he hated the fact that we went into that burning building, he went in after us. He saved me…and Johnny, in a way. I’m sure that Johnny would’ve been worse if Dally hadn’t been around to pull him out of there. Dally loved Johnny, they were real good buddies. I don’t think Dally cared for anyone else. That’s why he robbed a grocery store to get the cops after him. He went on a suicide mission. Dally had a gun, but it wasn’t loaded, so when he pointed it at the cops when they cornered him, they shot. I lost two good friends that night. They were both there for me when I needed them. Johnny was brave and Dallas was gallant. I just hope that they’re both having a good ol’ time up in heaven with my mom and dad. I know one day I’ll see them both again, but for now, I’ll do just as Johnny told me to and stay gold.
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