Над пропастью во ржи

           Hedidn’tcareifyou’dpackedsomethingornotandhaditwayinthetopofthecloset. Igotthemforhimthough. Inearlygotkilleddoingit,too. ThesecondIopenedtheclosetdoor,Stradlater’stennisracket—initswoodenpressandall—fellrightonmyhead. Itmadeabigclunk,andithurtlikehell. ItdamnnearkilledoldAckley,though. Hestartedlaughinginthisveryhighfalsettovoice. HekeptlaughingthewholetimeIwastakingdownmysuitcaseandgettingthescissorsoutforhim. Somethinglikethat—aguygettinghitontheheadwitharockorsomething—tickledthepantsoffAckley. "Youhaveadamngoodsenseofhumor,Ackleykid,"Itoldhim. "Youknowthat? "Ihandedhimthescissors. "Lemmebeyourmanager. I’llgetyouonthegoddamradio. "Isatdowninmychairagain,andhestartedcuttinghisbighorny-lookingnails. "How’boutusingthetableorsomething? "Isaid. "Cut’emoverthetable,willya?Idon’tfeellikewalkingonyourcrumbynailsinmybarefeettonight. "Hekeptrightoncuttingthemoverthefloor,though. Whatlousymanners. Imeanit. 

           "Who’sStradlater’sdate? "hesaid. HewasalwayskeepingtabsonwhoStradlaterwasdating,eventhoughhehatedStradlater’sguts. 

           "Idon’tknow. Why?" 

           "Noreason. Boy,Ican’tstandthatsonuvabitch. He’sonesonuvabitchIreallycan’tstand." 

           "He’scrazyaboutyou. Hetoldmehethinksyou’reagoddamprince,"Isaid. Icallpeoplea"prince"quiteoftenwhenI’mhorsingaround. Itkeepsmefromgettingboredorsomething. 

           "He’sgotthissuperiorattitudeallthetime,"Ackleysaid. "Ijustcan’tstandthesonuvabitch. You’dthinkhe—"