Над пропастью во ржи

           Ididn’tanswerhimrightaway. SuspenseisgoodforsomebastardslikeStradlater. 

           "Whaton?"Isaid. 

           "Anything. Anythingdescriptive. Aroom. Orahouse. Orsomethingyouoncelivedinorsomething—youknow. Justaslongasit’sdescriptiveashell. "Hegaveoutabigyawnwhilehesaidthat. Whichissomethingthatgivesmearoyalpainintheass. Imeanifsomebodyyawnsrightwhilethey’reaskingyoutodothemagoddamfavor. "Justdon’tdoittoogood,isall,"hesaid. "ThatsonuvabitchHartzellthinksyou’reahot-shotinEnglish,andheknowsyou’remyroommate. SoImeandon’tstickallthecommasandstuffintherightplace." 

           That’ssomethingelsethatgivesmearoyalpain. Imeanifyou’regoodatwritingcompositionsandsomebodystartstalkingaboutcommas. Stradlaterwasalwaysdoingthat. Hewantedyoutothinkthattheonlyreasonhewaslousyatwritingcompositionswasbecausehestuckallthecommasinthewrongplace. HewasalittlebitlikeAckley,thatway. IoncesatnexttoAckleyatthisbasketballgame. Wehadaterrificguyontheteam,HowieCoyle,thatcouldsinkthemfromthemiddleofthefloor,withouteventouchingthebackboardoranything. Ackleykeptsaying,thewholegoddamgame,thatCoylehadaperfectbuildforbasketball. God,howIhatethatstuff. 

           Igotboredsittingonthatwashbowlafterawhile,soIbackedupafewfeetandstarteddoingthistapdance,justforthehellofit. Iwasjustamusingmyself. Ican’treallytap-danceoranything, butitwasastonefloorinthecan,anditwasgoodfortap-dancing. Istartedimitatingoneofthoseguysinthemovies. Inoneofthosemusicals.