Holden, Ten Years Later
Looking back on my life, it's gone by pretty damn fast. I mean ten years gone just like that. It really doesn't feel like it. I still feel like the same dumb teenager I always was. I guess that's all I will ever be. I never thought I would amount to much anyways, considering how I never finished school. I quit that crap the middle of my senior year. I just could not handle the concept of working my butt off just to get some stupid certificate. What does it certify, anyways? That I put up with ignorant teachers and phony jerks for twelve years? Thanks but no thanks. Another thing I couldn't stand was the phoniness of the graduates. I'd hate to hell to hear things like "I can't believe we made it" or "Wow, I'm actually graduating". If you've been getting straight A's since kindergarten, what is there to be surprised about? Obviously you've been doing something right. I just couldn't handle the thought of standing on some stage next to a bunch of phony bastards. I couldn't even stand the thought of all their mothers crying their eyes out because their little boys had finally graduated high school, like it was such a huge a deal or something. Ugh, I can only imagine the kind of torture it would have been. Going in to the adult world to be fake and useless like everyone else was not something I was interested in. So I quit.
Naturally, my parents weren't too hot about the idea, but if there's one thing I've learned within these twenty-seven years of life it's that you absolutely cannot please everybody. That is a lesson that changed me over these years. Now that I think about it, I really have changed a lot. To be honest it scares me half to death. I feel I've really matured out, something I am quite proud of. I gave up drinking, though I still go out every once in a while and occasionally when I'm feeling down. I also quit cursing, mostly for the sake of poor old Phoebe. I didn't want to ruin her poor impressionable mind or anything like that. It's always good to consider the welfare and mental state of the children. Though, I do get pretty stark staring mad at times. Finally, I quit smoking as well; again, more for the sake of old Phoebe than myself. If you were to phone her up and ask her, though, she'd tell you otherwise. She would talk about my health and how ten years ago I almost died of Consumption. That gave her quite a scare. I spent three whole months in that sanitarium, possibly the most boring months of my life. So after that, Phoebe would not let me get a single smoke. If I even took one out she'd smack it right out of my hands and toss it out of a window. That's old Phoebe for you, always the health conscious one.
So I guess I really haven't changed too much. I still hate the movies with a passion, but I will go and see one of D.B's films occasionally. He's a big time producer now. I still hate phony jerks like Stradlater, but I'm living with him now. I know you think I'm a hypocrite now, but I'll get to that later. I still have that habit of rushing right into things without thinking them through clearly and I still have that problem of stopping when girls tell me to. That's probably why I'm not married yet. I still talk to Allie sometimes when I get lonely and I still wonder where those ducks go off to in the winter.
So like I said, my parents weren't too hot about the idea of me dropping out of school. I had to promise like a mad man that I would get a job as a handyman or a bell hop or something. Still, they didn't buy it and I can't really blame them. They were the typical wealthy upper class family. My dad was a hot shot lawyer, so naturally he cared about what image he portrayed to his clients. And my mother, being the strict woman of appearances and deception that she is, cared too much about image as well. Apparently, having a son that ran away from his private school at age seventeen then dropped out of high school his senior year to become a bell hop, didn't sound too good when shooting the breeze with companions. Eventually, though, they gave up on convincing me to stay or just sending me off to military school. I suspect D.B had something to do with it. However, things could not be resolved so easily. My parents agreed to let me leave school behind, but not without two very difficult conditions. First, I could not continue to live at home. At the time this did not seem like much of a condition since the majority of my life was spent away from home anyways. And it's not like I had a real chummy relationship with my parents. Secondly, I had to stay away from Phoebe. That was the heartbreaker. I knew in my soul I could not lose Phoebe and I knew she felt the same way. We would find a way to be together.
So over the next eight months I was able to dig up the numbers of some old teachers from my past that weren't completely disappointed in me. I even spent a few weeks with old Mr. Spencer and a whole month with Mr. Antolini. He actually became my go-to guy. I would spend month long periods with him, go somewhere else just to give he and his wife some alone time, then come back for another month. He apologized like crazy over the whole misunderstanding from three years ago. He went on to explain that he had always wanted a son, but that Mrs. Antolini was unable to have kids for whatever reason. He sort of saw himself in me and couldn't help but feel a paternal closeness to me.
Things really started to change two years ago. I was working in a small neighborhood grocery store; I can't even remember the name of the place. I was a grocery bagger. Bagging groceries was the most terrible bore you could ever imagine. So to pass those long boring hours I found myself thinking about grade school and my days there. It got me reminiscing and thinking about how I had told Phoebe I wanted to be the "catcher in the rye" for little kids. Anyways that's not the remarkable part. The remarkable part was that I looked up from my bagging to see Stradlater standing over me. Boy, you can bet a flood of emotions came over me. I almost hugged the bastard. So we shot the bull for a bit and I even walked him to his car. We talked a lot longer and it was all I could do not to ask him to go out for a drink. I was trying to avoid this particular happening, but he somehow worked the conversation over to me, which is very surprising when you knew someone like Stradlater as well as I did. I wanted to lie, I wanted to lie so badly, but I was honestly running out of people to stay with. So I ended up just telling him what happened with my parents, changing a few key details. I didn't drop out of school, my parents kicked me out because I didn't want to join my dad's law firm, and Phoebe was away at college in California. That last part was true, but we still write to each other almost every day. Besides, I felt like I was becoming a burden to Mr. Antolini. I didn't mean to evoke any sympathy from, but I guess I must have because he was quiet for some time. So I sort of asked Stradlater about his place and what he did, just to keep the conversation rolling. Turns out he had a small apartment and a steady girlfriend, but still he offered me a place to stay. I was so surprised and bewildered I offered to pay rent.
As expected, things were never just that simple. Stradlater had some ground rules, and very unsatisfactory ones at that. First, I was not allowed to be home during daylight hours and never when his girlfriend came over. Secondly, I had to be extremely neat so that my presence would go unnoticed, ironic coming from someone like him.
The first two days took a lot to get used to. Since it was a weekday and I had to be out. I decided to head over Phoebe's old elementary school. Now, one thing I forgot to mention is that sometimes I would go over there and just tidy things up and erase a few "F- You's". You know, pick up extra trash and what not. So this one day the principal happened to catch me. She was a nice understanding lady and she suggested I become the school janitor. I laughed it off at first since I already had a job bagging groceries. Now I was starting to consider it, especially since I kept having those day dreams about the school.
So that day I marched up to the school, into Ms. Anderson, the principal's, office and demanded to be the schools janitor. She sort of knew me by name now, since we had been shooting the breeze quite often lately. She did not seem surprised at all to see me and happily agreed to allow me to be the school's new janitor. The hours were much more than satisfactory. School started at 8 so I had to be there by 7 then I was free to do whatever I wanted so long as I was back by 3 to clean up. I was sure Stradlater would be more than happy with that.
So for the next two years I was the local elementary school's janitor. I didn't have to be at school until 7 but I would arrive at 6 every single morning. I would just sort of roam the hallways for a while. Then I would unlock some teacher's door and snoop through their collection of books. If I found anything good I'd sit down and have a nice early morning read. Once school started, I would head over to my old job and bag groceries until it was time to return to school. When I had finished cleaning I would once again go into a room and find a book to read. Sometimes I didn't leave school until 10 at night. This was my new schedule, and it wasn't too bad.
One day I was staying after school reading late into the night as usual, it was about 8 o'clock at night. I was startled when the silence was broken and Ms. Anderson walked in. She didn't even seem surprised to see me. She just walked in all casual like and sat down on a desk. She was actually pretty young when I took the time to look at her. She had curly brown hair and equally brown eyes. She was wearing a purple pant suit. "Well hello there Holden." She said. "Evening, Ms. Anderson," I replied. We went on to shoot the bull like we usually did, but this time I actually felt comfortable around her, not like a small child talking to a grown up. I felt so comfortable around her I found myself confessing my life story. I told her about Allie and Phoebe and D.B and even about my time in the hospital. She was a really good listener I could tell. She was calm and patient and only responded when she was sure I was finished speaking. Hell, I was half in love with her by the time I asked her if she knew where the ducks went. At first she didn't say anything. I thought maybe I had said something wrong and the spell had been broken. I was really worried. Then she gave me a kind gentle smile and asked if I'd like to go out for a drink. I happily obliged.