Caught in the Rye

I got excited as hell thinking about it. I really did. I knew the part about pretending I was a deaf-mute was crazy, but I liked thinking about it anyway. But I really decided to go out West and all.

So that's what I did. I decided I'd better go and get my luggage if I was going to really leave. I mean I can't walk around in the same stinkin underwear for the goddamn rest of my life. Even if I did, I'd start to smell bad and all. I betcha nobody would even tell me though. I'd be there, putting gas in someone's car and my stench would travel to their nostrils and they still wouldn't say anything. But God forbid I made the mistake of pronouncing 'Houston' wrong. That's the thing about people, they love to correct you but they'll never tell you the truth.

I got to the station and picked up my bags. I was still pretty drunk but I tried my best to keep my head straight. I decided I'd go to the bathroom and wash my face a bit. I went in and I've gotta tell you, that bathroom was a class A pigsty. None of the stalls had any doors and it smelt like some fat bastard took a huge dump, and there were towelettes all over I could barely see the floor! I could barely breath too so I just turned around and left. On my way out I bumped this girl into a wall accidentally. Before I could say I was sorry I got a look at her face and I couldn't believe it. It was Jane.

"Holden?" she said.

"Yeah! Jane! Howya doin? Boy am I glad to see you. Howya doin?" I was still drunk as hell so I couldn't really get all my words out properly.

"Holden are you drunk?" Jane was wearing this really big sweater that I recognized pretty quickly. It was her Dad's sweater. She only wore it when she was down.

"Boy am I glad to see you," Man did I sound like a phony moron. I always sound phony as hell when I'm drunk. I hate it.

"C'mon, let's sit down" she said, dragging me to the bench outside.

The cold wind hit me in the face as soon as the door opened. I wished I had my scarf. I guessed the bastard who stole my gloves was probably warming up with my scarf too.

We sat down on the bench and the cold air began to clear my headache. I stared at old Jane's face for a while and she just looked off into space. Man was she a hell of a girl. I always liked the way she looked but she looked even better that day. I didn't really know what to say and all. That usually happens to me with girls I like. I mean if you're just necking and all you don't have to do that much talking but when you're actually talking to a girl- and not a phony girl- you don't want to say the wrong thing. So I just kept staring at her. Her face was flushed and I could tell she'd been crying.

"How'd your date with Stradlater go?" I asked but I regretted it immediately.

Jane didn't answer she just lowered her head a bit. That worried me. Girls like Jane don't just lower their head because they like the view, they lower their head because something is wrong. I started to imagine all the stuff that Stradlater could've done to make her like this and it fired me up. I wanted to take the train back to old Pencey and knock his teeth out. I'd probably fill a bucket with ice water and dunk it on him while he was sleeping. Then after he'd nearly drowned, I'd say "That's what you get for messing with Jane, you dirty bastard!" He'd probably try and punch me but I'd just whack him in the head with my bucket and he'd be out cold. Only thing is, like I said before, I'm a really yellow guy so I probably wouldn't even make it back to old Pencey.

"How did you know that I had a date with Stradlater?" she asked.

I knew that sonuvabitch wouldn't pass on my message. "We were roommates back at Pencey."

"Oh. He didn't tell me that," she said. She looked guilty even though it wasn't her fault. Girls are always feeling guilty for stuff they didn't do.