Над пропастью во ржи

           Inthefirstplace,Icertainlydon’tenjoyseeinghiminthatcrazycemetery.Surroundedbydeadguysandtombstonesandall.Itwasn’ttoobadwhenthesunwasout,buttwice—twice—weweretherewhenitstartedtorain.Itwasawful.Itrainedonhislousytombstone,anditrainedonthegrassonhisstomach.Itrainedallovertheplace.Allthevisitorsthatwerevisitingthecemeterystartedrunninglikehellovertotheircars.That’swhatnearlydrovemecrazy.Allthevisitorscouldgetintheircarsandturnontheirradiosandallandthengosomeplacenicefordinner—everybodyexceptAllie.Icouldn’tstandit.Iknowit’sonlyhisbodyandallthat’sinthecemetery,andhissoul’sinHeavenandallthatcrap,butIcouldn’tstanditanyway.Ijustwishhewasn’tthere.Youdidn’tknowhim.Ifyou’dknownhim,you’dknowwhatImean.It’snottoobadwhenthesun’sout,butthesunonlycomesoutwhenitfeelslikecomingout.

           Afterawhile,justtogetmymindoffgettingpneumoniaandall,Itookoutmydoughandtriedtocountitinthelousylightfromthestreetlamp.AllIhadwasthreesinglesandfivequartersandanickelleft—boy,IspentafortunesinceIleftPencey.ThenwhatIdid,IwentdownnearthelagoonandIsortofskippedthequartersandthenickelacrossit,whereitwasn’tfrozen.Idon’tknowwhyIdidit,butIdidit.IguessIthoughtit’dtakemymindoffgettingpneumoniaanddying.Itdidn’t,though.

           IstartedthinkinghowoldPhoebewouldfeelifIgotpneumoniaanddied.Itwasachildishwaytothink,butIcouldn’tstopmyself.She’dfeelprettybadifsomethinglikethathappened.Shelikesmealot.Imeanshe’squitefondofme.Shereallyis.Anyway,Icouldn’tgetthatoffmymind,sofinallywhatIfiguredI’ddo,IfiguredI’dbettersneakhomeandseeher,incaseIdiedandall.