Над пропастью во ржи

           "Why? Oh,wellit’salongstory,sir. Imeanit’sprettycomplicated." Ididn’tfeellikegoingintothewholethingwithhim. Hewouldn’thaveunderstooditanyway. Itwasn’tuphisalleyatall. OneofthebiggestreasonsIleftElktonHillswasbecauseIwassurroundedbyphonies. That’sall.Theywerecominginthegoddamwindow. Forinstance,theyhadthisheadmaster,Mr.Haas,thatwasthephoniestbastardIevermetinmylife. TentimesworsethanoldThurmer. OnSundays,forinstance,oldHaaswentaroundshakinghandswitheverybody’sparentswhentheydroveuptoschool. He’dbecharmingashellandall. Exceptifsomeboyhadlittleoldfunny-lookingparents. Youshould’veseenthewayhedidwithmyroommate’sparents. Imeanifaboy’smotherwassortoffatorcorny-lookingorsomething, andifsomebody’sfatherwasoneofthoseguysthatwearthosesuitswithverybigshoulders andcornyblack-and-whiteshoes, thenoldHanswouldjustshakehandswiththemandgivethemaphonysmile andthenhe’dgotalk,formaybeahalfanhour,withsomebodyelse’sparents. Ican’tstandthatstuff.Itdrivesmecrazy. ItmakesmesodepressedIgocrazy. IhatedthatgoddamElktonHills. 

           OldSpenceraskedmesomethingthen,butIdidn’thearhim. IwasthinkingaboutoldHaas. "What,sir?"Isaid. 

           "DoyouhaveanyparticularqualmsaboutleavingPencey?" 

           "Oh,Ihaveafewqualms,allright. Sure...butnottoomany. Notyet,anyway.Iguessithasn’treallyhitmeyet. Ittakesthingsawhiletohitme. AllI’mdoingrightnowisthinkingaboutgoinghomeWednesday. I’mamoron." 

           "Doyoufeelabsolutelynoconcernforyourfuture,boy?"