Chapter 26: The Confrontation of Holden and his Parents
Draff - Skyblitz@ignmail.com - (A few minor inaccuracies present)
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WHEN Phoebe and I had gotten around going home later that afternoon, it had become so goddam cold, and it had just finished raining. I swear to God, I was such an unlucky sonuvabitch.

I was happy though. I didn't even remember that Old Phoebe was dragging me home. I mean, I was just happy being with her. But then, I got to thinking how my mother reacted the last time she found out that I was kicked out. She was so goddam annoying then. I don't understand my mother. She tells me to try my best, and if I do, that'll make her happy, but when I do try my best, she says I'm a liar and goes into one of those psychotic episodes, as though I was born a failure. I shrug it off though, 'cause I mean, I don't really care what she thinks. It's the fact that she never acknowledges that I do try, but it's just not interesting. But my father on the other hand is okay. At least he knows when to shut up. Does my mother honestly think that saying that I don't apply myself over and over, is going to help? It's just going to make me even more depressed. She should be a psychoanalyst. I swear to God, they all say the same damn thing. Apply yourself. It's like they're reading out of a book for chrissakes.

"Hey Holden? We're home." Phoebe whispered.

I didn't respond. I guess I was in denial about going home. I mean, I wasn't scared of my mother and all, but I guess I just don't want to be the bane of her existence. You know what I mean? She's going to get a heart attack for chrissakes! Knowing that my mother will probably be agonizing over my failure for weeks might put her in the hospital is really depressing. I do that sometimes: I make myself depressed and all. I honestly didn't feel like going home anymore, now that I got to thinking about it. But I can't. I promised Old Phoebe, and I can't back out on my promises. Plus if I did, she'd never forgive me. Kids can do that sometimes. You say something to them, and if you back out on your promises, they give you that look of betrayal. When Phoebe was little, I promised her that I would be home for Christmas, while I was attending Whooton. I couldn't make it back, and she wouldn't talk to me for years.

"Holden! C'mon, let's go!" Phoebe yelled, as she tugged my shirt.

I followed her in. It seemed different this time, even though I was here a while before. I mean, the room looked a lot darker, and wider. I guess it was more intimidating in a sense. I still remember running around the foyer when I was small, and how big the room looked. I swear to God, I was scared of this room. I don't know why. Anyway, this room was cold as hell. Waiting for the elevator was depressing, because I knew that I was a short trip from my parents. Phoebe kept on saying how father would kill me, and that didn't help.

The elevator came pretty damn fast. I guess I was lucky; the elevator wants me dead too. I went on to the car, and the new guy wasn't there. I was glad as hell since the other guy would probably remember that I had asked to go to the Dicksteins' before. Pete something-Pete Smith- I forget. Anyway, Pete was back. I wonder if he remembered me because it's been a while since I last saw him.

"Caulfield, right? Your folks ain't in. How're you doing Phoebe?" He said.

"I'm fine. T-that's okay. Just take us up." Phoebe said. She seemed kind of nervous though. I guess she was nervous for me because she didn't like seeing father getting angry. I can't blame the kid though. When I got kicked out of my last schools, my father was literally going to kill me. I could tell.

We finally arrived on our floor. The fact that the hallway looked like one of those old dungeon cellars didn't help. It was like I was heading towards my execution, except going home was worse. I swear, I'd rather be shot right now. Listening to my father drone on and on through one of his goddam lectures is enough to make anyone want to die.

When we got in, I could hear the maid singing in the kitchen. I sort of didn't want to have to look at her either. Even though she wasn't my mother and all, seeing that expression on her face is enough to set me off. I mean- she'll tell me it's going to be all right, then give me something warm to drink, but she was so goddam phony like that. She obviously wants to scream at me and tell me I'm a failure, because it's happened one too many times, and plus, she has another person to clean clothes for now.

I knew my parents weren't home, but I was still paranoid as hell. I avoided the maid and went into Phoebe's room and stared out the window. It was raining like a bastard outside. I guess raining and depression are almost synonymous. I kept on thinking what Phoebe would be doing when my parents were yelling at me. Last time my father cracked, Phoebe started crying. I sort of felt sorry for her. I didn't talk to Old Phoebe much since we had left the park. She was in the back room, drawing some picture. I was more worried about what I was going to do with myself. I can't leave now since I told Phoebe I would stay, but military school? Suddenly, I heard the door unlocking, but for some reason, I kept on thinking about the sores in my mouth and that goddam magazine I read at Grand Central. Maybe if I told them I was getting cancer, they won't give a damn about Pencey. I don't know why, but I was fidgety as hell.

I could hear them talking, just outside of Phoebe's room. I wasn't sure when I would go out and confront them, but I got to thinking. Maybe I can live in Phoebe's room? She can bring me food and stuff.

"Holden! Let's go talk to them!" Phoebe whispered.

I swear to God that scared me. Phoebe just pops out of nowhere sometimes and starts talking to me. She was a madman like that.

"Wait. I will. Just give me a few minutes." I replied.

"Come on! You can't stay here forever."

"Wait, wait. What if they send me off to military school? I still won't see you. Why can't I just go off and live by myself then? There's no difference."

"Yes there is! Don't say that. You don't understand."

I couldn't tell what the hell Old Phoebe was talking about, but I knew I would have to talk with them eventually. I mean, they're going to read the letter sooner or later, and I can't go on avoiding them for the rest of my life. If I want to keep seeing Old Phoebe, I'm going to have to stay.

The hallway light was so goddam bright. I swear to God they're going to blind someone. I could hear the sound of my father shuffling the newspapers around in the living room, and my mother in the kitchen. I wasn't sure whom I should talk to first. Maybe I should try and go out, and come back in, pretending I had just come back from Pencey, and sort of hope that they don't realize that I'm home early.

"Holden's home! Holden's home!" Phoebe yelled.

Oh, for chrissakes Phoebe. Why did you have to do that? My throat was dry as hell, and I was nervous. Why do I still have these goddam sores? I kept on thinking about my sores. My mind is always somewhere else when I'm nervous.

"Holden? Why on earth are you home so early?" Mother said.

"I-"

"Holden got kicked out-," Phoebe said.

"Shut up, Phoebe!" I responded.

"Is this true Holden?" My mother responded, as my father walked in.

I don't know if she does it on purpose, but she loves to put me on the spot, especially after seeing my father walk in. I didn't know what to say. Maybe I should just lie. I couldn't stop thinking about the goddam sores in my mouth.

"I- yes mother. I did. Say what you want, but I did all I could. You don't understand it. Pencey is just full of phonies mother!" I responded

"Phonies? All the schools in your opinion Holden are phony! For chrissakes Holden, could you try any less harder?"

I didn't want to answer her. I know what she'll say. She says the same goddam thing every time I'm kicked out of a school. My father on the other hand was watching from the hallway. I was rather surprised to see him just stand there though. It was as though he just didn't care anymore and gave up hope. That made me even more depressed. Realizing that someone has lost all hope for you doesn't exactly make you feel any better. I wasn't even listening to my mother anymore. I just wanted to shoot myself. I sat in the chair beside me while my mother continued talking. I just started to cry. I'm not sure why, but for some reason, I just cried. My tears just wouldn't stop. Why for chrissakes am I crying? I don't know. I've never really cried before. Not when Allie died, not when Phoebe stopped talking to me, but why now?

I cried all night in that chair, until I fell asleep. I barely remember what my mother was talking about. I was groggy as hell, and had a goddam headache. It was still raining outside and Phoebe was still asleep. I went into her bedroom and stared at her while she was sleeping. She looked really innocent. She killed me. I swear to God, kids can do the most awful things and I still love being around them. I didn't get mad at her for telling my parents that I got kicked out. I could never get mad at Phoebe. I went over her and gave her a kiss, then I went back into my old room and pulled out a book: "The Ancient Civilization of Egypt". I have to start somewhere I thought. So this is it, I'm finally applying myself. I sat down on a rickety chair and I put down my red hunting cap. I picked up the book, turned to page one and started to read.