Catcher in the Rye: Chapter 25 Insertion into Page 202

I went down by a different staircase, and I saw another "Fuck you" on the wall. I tried to rub it off with my hand again, but this one was scratched on, with a knife or something. It wouldn't come off. It's hopeless, anyway. If you had a million years to do it in, you couldn't rub out even half the "Fuck you" signs in the world. It's impossible.

Walking down the hall in the general direction of the main office, not needing to hurry for any reason, I heard an unusual squeaking noise. After dealing with rowdy third graders all morning I had just about had enough of my students today. It was as I rounded the corner of the staircase, expecting to find a student writing on the wall with their tool of choice, that I was shocked to a standstill.

Several thoughts crossed my mind at once. Initially, this was not an elementary student. This child was hardly a child at all, probably high school. Next, the teenager looked familiar. Lastly, the boy was trying to erase the messages on the wall, not write his own. He turned to face me as I stared.

"Hello, young man," I said slowly as I approached him. "Can I help you?"

"Hello, ma'am," he replied as he tilted his head to the right ever so slightly. "Mrs. Brown?"

"Yes, but can I ask who…? Holden?" Suddenly a flood of memories came back to me. "Hello, Holden! How have you been?"

"I've been well, ma'am, I mean I've been well and all."

"Where are you going to school now?"

"I've just started my vacation. I'm at Pencey Prep now."

I knew he was hiding something by the way that he wouldn't make eye contact with me. He kept looking over my shoulder or off to the side. I had also run into his parents at a party a week ago. They had been telling me how Holden wouldn't be back until this Wednesday. Which wasn't for a couple more days...

"Well, I know things have been difficult for you academically," I said carefully, sensing something more was going on. "I ran into your parents last week. They were talking about how excited they were to see you on Wednesday."

"Oh, well that's good to know. No kidding. Anyway, I was dropping off a note for Phoebe to meet me at the museum. I've missed her a bunch and all. Yeah, I've missed her all right." He started to back away.

"Holden, is everything all right? You seem nervous? Do you want to go back to my classroom while my students are at lunch and talk?"

"That's okay. I really have to get going. You wouldn't believe how busy I am today. Did you know the museum hasn't changed very much? That Native American exhibit we used to visit is still the same. Anyway, I should go."

"What's the hurry?" He was acting unusual, backing away and looking around.

"I'm meeting a girl. She's a total knock out, no kidding. We're seeing a film. It will probably be boring, but she wants to see it."

"But Holden, dear, it's a weekday morning, nothing is showing until later." He was lying and definitely hiding something. I couldn't figure out what though.

"Well, you see I gotta get going if I'm gonna make that film before I have to meet Phoebe. The girl I'm going with might be worried. Yeah, I'm sure she'll be worried and all. I should really go." He started to back away slowly.

"Holden, if something is troubling you…" I let my voice trail off when he paused and finally looked at me.

"Mrs. Brown, do you know where the ducks from the pond go in the winter?"

"The ducks? Holden, we were discussing-"

"Yes, but, you see, what's really troubling me is that no one in this city knows were the goddamn ducks go in the winter! Sorry for swearing and all. You know, that really bothers me. These messages on the walls here. No kidding. All of the walls. Everywhere someone turns there's a 'Fuck you' written in this goddamn school. Sorry again 'bout the swears. These little kids shouldn't even know what that word is. Anyway, I really should go. I'm meeting that old girl."

I was taken aback by his negativity. His parent's had told me that his outlook on life since his brother had passed away was getting increasingly more criticizing. He was more closed off and had trouble fitting into new schools- which, from what they had described, was a reoccurring event. He couldn't seem to find his place among others his age. He was more mature than many, but at the same time he valued childhood too much. I wasn't sure which was worse for him.

This boy was troubled by something, but what I couldn't say. My best guess was that he was dealing with a case of depression. How he was handling it was to lie and withdraw from others. He was repressing his memories of Ali and his childhood thinking that by shielding himself and others he was erasing the problem.

"Holden, thank you for trying to rid our walls of the language. On behalf of the other staff we appreciate it. I'm sorry for keeping you. Perhaps later you and I could discuss the ducks in greater detail."

"Sure, no kidding. Thanks and all, Mrs. Brown," he replied as he turned and exited the building.

I just shook my head, knowing that he would not return.

I looked at the clock in the recess yard, and it was only twenty to twelve, so I had quite a lot of time to kill before I met old Phoebe. But I just walked over to the museum anyway. There wasn't anyplace else to go. I thought maybe I might stop in a phone booth and give old Jane Gallagher a buzz before I started bumming my way west, but I wasn't in the mood. For one thing, I wasn't even sure she was home for vacation yet. So I just went over to the museum, and hung around.