Stradlater
I came in to find Holden and that bastard Ackley sitting in my dorm. Anyway, I went over to Holden and gave him a couple of slaps on the face. The guy got all sore about it for Chrissake. Well I had this girl, Jane Gallagher, waiting downstairs for me. She was my date for the evening. We'd left early from the homecoming game and I needed a jacket. 'Sides, Holden had a nice hound's-tooth one anyway. "Who won the game?" Holden asked, "It's only half. We're leaving." I answered, "No kidding, you gonna use your hound's-tooth tonight or not? I spilled some crap over my gray-flannel." Holden looked all sore again, "No, but I don't want you stretching it with your goddamn shoulders and all." Jesus, he's so paranoid about this sorta crap. "I won't stretch it." I made my way over to the closet, glancing at Ackley, "How'sa boy?" he grunted. Typical Ackley reaction. I took off my coat and tie, "I think maybe I'll take a fast shave," "Where's your date?" Holden, always the one to ask questions, "She's waiting in the Annex." I headed down to the can, Holden still following me. When I got down there, Holden just sat on the edge of the sink, turning the cold water on and off. I was whistling, "Song of India", and I think that Holden was getting annoyed. I know he's one of those guys that get annoyed real easy too. Well I was shaving when I realized that I had a composition to write for English class. I didn't have time either, I was gonna be with Jane for the rest of the evening. But Holden, well Holden was into English and all. He was an excellent writer, totally into the whole literature thing. So I though maybe he'd write it for me, "Hey," I glanced at him, "Wanna do me a big favor?" "What?" he didn't sound too into it, "You goin' out tonight?" "I might. I might not. I don't know. Why?" He can never give an answer. Just a simple goddamn answer, "I got about a hundred pages to read for history for Monday," I started, "How 'bout writing a composition for me, for English? I'll be up the creek if I don't get the goddamn thing in by Monday, the reason I ask. How 'bout it?" then I knew I'd hit a sore spot cos he got mad again, "I'm the one that's flunking out of the goddamn place, and you're asking me to write you a goddamn composition," he answered. "Yeah I know. The thing is, though, I'll be up the creek if I don't get it in. Be a buddy. Be a buddyroo. Okay?" he didn't answer. I can't stand it when people do that. You'd think that by now I'd be used to it, Holden being my roommate and all, but no. He's so goddamn difficult. Finally, he spoke, "What on?" relieved, I answered him, "Anything. Anything descriptive. A room. Or a house. Or something you once lived in or something you know. Just as long as it's descriptive as hell." I gave out a yawn, feeling somewhat worn out. Then I added, "Just don't do it too good, is all. That sonuvabitch Hartzell thinks you're a hot-shot in English, and he knows you're my roommate. So I mean don't stick all the commas and stuff in the right place." it seemed foolproof. Holden would write the composition, and I'd be with Jane. So I continued shaving for a while when all of a sudden Holden gets up off the washbasin and starts tap dancing for Chrissake. I swear that bastard gets stranger every day. Then he was imitating the Governor's son. It was pretty funny I'll admit. I had to laugh. That's when I noticed he was wearing this crazy red hunting cap. But the funny part was, he was wearin' it backwards so that the peak was facing the back of his head. "Where'dja get that hat?" Holden finally stopped tap dancing and took off his hat and looked at it, "I got it in New York this morning. For a buck. Ya like it?" I nodded, "Sharp." remembering the composition once again, "Listen. Are ya gonna write that composition for me? I have to know." I was in a hurry and I didn't want to wait the rest of the year just for Holden's answer. "If I get the time, I will. If I don't, I won't." he told me simply. That's exactly what I'm talking about. Never a straight answer from the guy. He came back and sat on the washbasin, "Who's your date? Fitzgerald?" I scowled at the thought, "Hell no! I told ya, I'm through with that pig." doesn't he ever listen to me? "Yeah? Give her to me, boy. No kidding. She's any type." "Take her...She's too old for you." Suddenly Holden jumped on me and got me into a half nelson for Chrissake! The bastard was choking me. "Cut it out, Holden, for Chrissake! Wuddaya wanna make me do-cut my goddamn head off?" the little jerk didn't let go though, "Je-sus Christ." I put my razor down then broke Holden's grip on me. The guy's weak. I began to shave my face again. That's when Holden began to interrogate me once more. "Who is your date if it isn't Fitzgerald??" he sat down on the washbasin again, "That Phyllis Smith babe?" I decided to answer him so he'd shut up, "No. It was supposed to be, but the arrangements got all screwed up. I got Bud Thaw's girl's roommate now...Hey. I almost forgot. She knows you." "Who does?"
"My date." "Yeah?" he sat up looking more interested, "What's her name?" "I'm thinking...Uh. Jean Gallagher." he got up suddenly looking as though he was gonna have a heart attack right there for Chrissake. "Jane Gallagher," he said, "You're damn right I know her. She practically lived right next door to me, the summer last. She had this big damn Doberman pinscher. That's how I met her. Her dog used to keep coming over in our-" "You're right in my light, Holden, for Chrissake. Ya have to stand right there?" The guy was blocking my light, he was standing right in the way, "Where is she?" he continued, "I oughta go down and say hello to her or something. Where is she? In the Annex?" "Yeah." "How'd she happen to mention me? Does she go to B.M. now? She said she might go there. She said she might go to Shipley, too. I thought she went to Shipley. How'd she happen to mention me?" "I don't know, for Chrissake. Lift up, willya? You're on my towel." "Jane Gallagher," he said, "Jesus H. Christ." Holden went on that way for some time. It was just a girl he'd met for Chrissake; I don't know why he was so excited. It's not like I get that way when I see a girl I haven't seen for a couple of years. Then he started giving me a whole goddamn history lesson on her, "She's a dancer," he started, "Ballet and all. She used to practice about two hours every day, right in the middle of the hottest weather and all. She was worried that might make her legs lousy-all thick and all. I used to play checkers with her all the time." "You used to play what with her?" "Checkers." "Checkers, for Chrissake!" the guy had serious problems. "Yeah. She wouldn't move any of her kings. What she'd do, when she'd get a king, she wouldn't move it. She'd just leave it in the back row. She'd get them all lined up in the back row. Then she'd never use them. She just liked the way they looked when they were all in the back row." I didn't say anything. What made Holden think I cared anyway? He was telling me about how my date played checkers for Chrissake. Then he started talking about how she played golf and all. I was combing my hair by this point. He kept saying he oughta go down and say hi to her. Then whenever I told him to, he kept putting it off. Then he said something relatively interesting, "Her mother and father were divorced. Her mother was married again to some booze hound," he said, "Skinny guy with hairy legs. I remember him. He wore shorts all the time. Jane said he was supposed to be a playwright or some goddamn thing, but all I ever saw him do was booze all the time and listen to every single mystery program on the radio. And run around the goddamn house, naked. With Jane around, and all." "Yeah?" I was actually listening now. It was definitely more interesting than hearing about checker games. "She had a lousy childhood. I'm not kidding." I tuned out again. He started up with the, 'I should go down and talk to her' again. Finally I sighed and spoke, "Why the hell don'tcha instead of keep saying it?" I raised my brows at him waiting for an answer, "I'm not in the mood right now." Jesus, Holden's such a goddamn procrastinator. Finishing up, I started to put away all my toilet stuff. Holden watched me, "Listen. Give her my regards, willya?" "Okay." I'd've done anything by that point just as long as I didn't have to listen to him anymore. I left the can and headed back to the room. It wasn't long before Holden came back too, "Hey," he said, "Don't tell her I got kicked out of school, willya?" "Okay." I was trying to get my tie on. I wouldn't tell Jane. Besides, why would I be talking to her about Holden anyway? I got up and put on his hound's-tooth, "Jesus, now, try not to stretch it all over the place," he started again. I sighed, "I won't. Where the hell's my cigarette's?" "On the desk. Under your muffler." I grabbed the pack and stuffed them into the coat pocket. "Listen, where ya going on your date with her? Ya know yet?" I glanced at him, "I don't know. New York, if we have time. She only signed out for nine- thirty, for Chrissake." He got all sore again, "The reason she did that, she probably just didn't know what a handsome, charming bastard you are. If she'd known, she probably signed for nine- thirty in the morning." I knew what he was playing at, trying to get me all riled up, "Goddamn right," I answered, "No kidding, now. Do that composition for me," I was ready to leave, "Don't knock yourself out or anything, but just make it as descriptive as hell. Okay?" he didn't answer me again. Makes me wonder why I haven't creamed him yet. Instead he said, "Ask her if she still keeps her kings in the back row." "Okay." I looked at him again before heading out, "Take it easy, now." I left to meet Jane.
I came in to find Holden and that bastard Ackley sitting in my dorm. Anyway, I went over to Holden and gave him a couple of slaps on the face. The guy got all sore about it for Chrissake. Well I had this girl, Jane Gallagher, waiting downstairs for me. She was my date for the evening. We'd left early from the homecoming game and I needed a jacket. 'Sides, Holden had a nice hound's-tooth one anyway. "Who won the game?" Holden asked, "It's only half. We're leaving." I answered, "No kidding, you gonna use your hound's-tooth tonight or not? I spilled some crap over my gray-flannel." Holden looked all sore again, "No, but I don't want you stretching it with your goddamn shoulders and all." Jesus, he's so paranoid about this sorta crap. "I won't stretch it." I made my way over to the closet, glancing at Ackley, "How'sa boy?" he grunted. Typical Ackley reaction. I took off my coat and tie, "I think maybe I'll take a fast shave," "Where's your date?" Holden, always the one to ask questions, "She's waiting in the Annex." I headed down to the can, Holden still following me. When I got down there, Holden just sat on the edge of the sink, turning the cold water on and off. I was whistling, "Song of India", and I think that Holden was getting annoyed. I know he's one of those guys that get annoyed real easy too. Well I was shaving when I realized that I had a composition to write for English class. I didn't have time either, I was gonna be with Jane for the rest of the evening. But Holden, well Holden was into English and all. He was an excellent writer, totally into the whole literature thing. So I though maybe he'd write it for me, "Hey," I glanced at him, "Wanna do me a big favor?" "What?" he didn't sound too into it, "You goin' out tonight?" "I might. I might not. I don't know. Why?" He can never give an answer. Just a simple goddamn answer, "I got about a hundred pages to read for history for Monday," I started, "How 'bout writing a composition for me, for English? I'll be up the creek if I don't get the goddamn thing in by Monday, the reason I ask. How 'bout it?" then I knew I'd hit a sore spot cos he got mad again, "I'm the one that's flunking out of the goddamn place, and you're asking me to write you a goddamn composition," he answered. "Yeah I know. The thing is, though, I'll be up the creek if I don't get it in. Be a buddy. Be a buddyroo. Okay?" he didn't answer. I can't stand it when people do that. You'd think that by now I'd be used to it, Holden being my roommate and all, but no. He's so goddamn difficult. Finally, he spoke, "What on?" relieved, I answered him, "Anything. Anything descriptive. A room. Or a house. Or something you once lived in or something you know. Just as long as it's descriptive as hell." I gave out a yawn, feeling somewhat worn out. Then I added, "Just don't do it too good, is all. That sonuvabitch Hartzell thinks you're a hot-shot in English, and he knows you're my roommate. So I mean don't stick all the commas and stuff in the right place." it seemed foolproof. Holden would write the composition, and I'd be with Jane. So I continued shaving for a while when all of a sudden Holden gets up off the washbasin and starts tap dancing for Chrissake. I swear that bastard gets stranger every day. Then he was imitating the Governor's son. It was pretty funny I'll admit. I had to laugh. That's when I noticed he was wearing this crazy red hunting cap. But the funny part was, he was wearin' it backwards so that the peak was facing the back of his head. "Where'dja get that hat?" Holden finally stopped tap dancing and took off his hat and looked at it, "I got it in New York this morning. For a buck. Ya like it?" I nodded, "Sharp." remembering the composition once again, "Listen. Are ya gonna write that composition for me? I have to know." I was in a hurry and I didn't want to wait the rest of the year just for Holden's answer. "If I get the time, I will. If I don't, I won't." he told me simply. That's exactly what I'm talking about. Never a straight answer from the guy. He came back and sat on the washbasin, "Who's your date? Fitzgerald?" I scowled at the thought, "Hell no! I told ya, I'm through with that pig." doesn't he ever listen to me? "Yeah? Give her to me, boy. No kidding. She's any type." "Take her...She's too old for you." Suddenly Holden jumped on me and got me into a half nelson for Chrissake! The bastard was choking me. "Cut it out, Holden, for Chrissake! Wuddaya wanna make me do-cut my goddamn head off?" the little jerk didn't let go though, "Je-sus Christ." I put my razor down then broke Holden's grip on me. The guy's weak. I began to shave my face again. That's when Holden began to interrogate me once more. "Who is your date if it isn't Fitzgerald??" he sat down on the washbasin again, "That Phyllis Smith babe?" I decided to answer him so he'd shut up, "No. It was supposed to be, but the arrangements got all screwed up. I got Bud Thaw's girl's roommate now...Hey. I almost forgot. She knows you." "Who does?"
"My date." "Yeah?" he sat up looking more interested, "What's her name?" "I'm thinking...Uh. Jean Gallagher." he got up suddenly looking as though he was gonna have a heart attack right there for Chrissake. "Jane Gallagher," he said, "You're damn right I know her. She practically lived right next door to me, the summer last. She had this big damn Doberman pinscher. That's how I met her. Her dog used to keep coming over in our-" "You're right in my light, Holden, for Chrissake. Ya have to stand right there?" The guy was blocking my light, he was standing right in the way, "Where is she?" he continued, "I oughta go down and say hello to her or something. Where is she? In the Annex?" "Yeah." "How'd she happen to mention me? Does she go to B.M. now? She said she might go there. She said she might go to Shipley, too. I thought she went to Shipley. How'd she happen to mention me?" "I don't know, for Chrissake. Lift up, willya? You're on my towel." "Jane Gallagher," he said, "Jesus H. Christ." Holden went on that way for some time. It was just a girl he'd met for Chrissake; I don't know why he was so excited. It's not like I get that way when I see a girl I haven't seen for a couple of years. Then he started giving me a whole goddamn history lesson on her, "She's a dancer," he started, "Ballet and all. She used to practice about two hours every day, right in the middle of the hottest weather and all. She was worried that might make her legs lousy-all thick and all. I used to play checkers with her all the time." "You used to play what with her?" "Checkers." "Checkers, for Chrissake!" the guy had serious problems. "Yeah. She wouldn't move any of her kings. What she'd do, when she'd get a king, she wouldn't move it. She'd just leave it in the back row. She'd get them all lined up in the back row. Then she'd never use them. She just liked the way they looked when they were all in the back row." I didn't say anything. What made Holden think I cared anyway? He was telling me about how my date played checkers for Chrissake. Then he started talking about how she played golf and all. I was combing my hair by this point. He kept saying he oughta go down and say hi to her. Then whenever I told him to, he kept putting it off. Then he said something relatively interesting, "Her mother and father were divorced. Her mother was married again to some booze hound," he said, "Skinny guy with hairy legs. I remember him. He wore shorts all the time. Jane said he was supposed to be a playwright or some goddamn thing, but all I ever saw him do was booze all the time and listen to every single mystery program on the radio. And run around the goddamn house, naked. With Jane around, and all." "Yeah?" I was actually listening now. It was definitely more interesting than hearing about checker games. "She had a lousy childhood. I'm not kidding." I tuned out again. He started up with the, 'I should go down and talk to her' again. Finally I sighed and spoke, "Why the hell don'tcha instead of keep saying it?" I raised my brows at him waiting for an answer, "I'm not in the mood right now." Jesus, Holden's such a goddamn procrastinator. Finishing up, I started to put away all my toilet stuff. Holden watched me, "Listen. Give her my regards, willya?" "Okay." I'd've done anything by that point just as long as I didn't have to listen to him anymore. I left the can and headed back to the room. It wasn't long before Holden came back too, "Hey," he said, "Don't tell her I got kicked out of school, willya?" "Okay." I was trying to get my tie on. I wouldn't tell Jane. Besides, why would I be talking to her about Holden anyway? I got up and put on his hound's-tooth, "Jesus, now, try not to stretch it all over the place," he started again. I sighed, "I won't. Where the hell's my cigarette's?" "On the desk. Under your muffler." I grabbed the pack and stuffed them into the coat pocket. "Listen, where ya going on your date with her? Ya know yet?" I glanced at him, "I don't know. New York, if we have time. She only signed out for nine- thirty, for Chrissake." He got all sore again, "The reason she did that, she probably just didn't know what a handsome, charming bastard you are. If she'd known, she probably signed for nine- thirty in the morning." I knew what he was playing at, trying to get me all riled up, "Goddamn right," I answered, "No kidding, now. Do that composition for me," I was ready to leave, "Don't knock yourself out or anything, but just make it as descriptive as hell. Okay?" he didn't answer me again. Makes me wonder why I haven't creamed him yet. Instead he said, "Ask her if she still keeps her kings in the back row." "Okay." I looked at him again before heading out, "Take it easy, now." I left to meet Jane.