Над пропастью во ржи

           Theybothlaughedlikehyenasatstuffthatwasn’tevenfunny. Ididn’tevenenjoysittingnexttotheminthemovies. 

           Itwasonlyaboutaquartertoninewhenwegotbacktothedorm. OldBrossardwasabridgefiend,andhestartedlookingaroundthedormforagame. OldAckleyparkedhimselfinmyroom,justforachange. Only,insteadofsittingonthearmofStradlater’schair,helaiddownonmybed,withhisfacerightonmypillowandall. Hestartedtalkinginthisverymonotonousvoice,andpickingatallhispimples. Idroppedaboutathousandhints,butIcouldn’tgetridofhim. Allhedidwaskeeptalkinginthisverymonotonousvoiceaboutsomebabehewassupposedtohavehadsexualintercoursewiththesummerbefore. He’dalreadytoldmeaboutitaboutahundredtimes.Everytimehetoldit,itwasdifferent. Oneminutehe’dbegivingittoherinhiscousin’sBuick,thenextminutehe’dbegivingittoherundersomeboardwalk. Itwasallalotofcrap,naturally. HewasavirginifeverIsawone. Idoubtifheeverevengaveanybodyafeel. Anyway,finallyIhadtocomerightoutandtellhimthatIhadtowriteacompositionforStradlater,andthathehadtoclearthehellout,soIcouldconcentrate. Hefinallydid,buthetookhistimeaboutit,asusual. Afterheleft,Iputonmypajamasandbathrobeandmyoldhuntinghat,andstartedwritingthecomposition. 

           Thethingwas,Icouldn’tthinkofaroomorahouseoranythingtodescribethewayStradlatersaidhehadtohave. I’mnottoocrazyaboutdescribingroomsandhousesanyway. SowhatIdid,IwroteaboutmybrotherAllie’sbaseballmitt. Itwasaverydescriptivesubject.Itreallywas. MybrotherAlliehadthisleft-handedfielder’smitt. Hewasleft-handed. Thethingthatwasdescriptiveaboutit,though,wasthathehadpoemswrittenalloverthefingersandthepocketandeverywhere.