Paper #2: Continuation of "Catcher"

Aly Thibault


26th of February, 2008
Paper #2
Chapter One
I was sitting there, on the Highway 180 and all, with my thumb up, hoping someone would drive by and let me hitch my way up Northern California, where there weren't as many people, phony people, as down here. I had just been visiting my older brother D.B. in Hollywood. We weren't actually together all that much because he was in the process of writing another one of those goddamn movies. If there's one thing I hate, it's the movies.
In fifteen minutes, I was sitting in the passenger seat of a beat-up red car. That's another thing I hate. Cars. They're so noisy and they remind me of New York, a lot. Why not just ride around horses? If I still had any more dough by the time I am situated I will buy a horse. But definitely not a car.
"Hello," the owner of the truck, a guy who looked to be about fifty, with a profound grey beard grunted. "Where 'ya headed?" He had a trucker type hat and a plaid flannel shirt on. He looked like a trucker, but he wasn't. He had a car. Why pretend to be a trucker if you don't drive a truck?
"Up north," I said. I didn't really feel like talking to him. I was pretty tired and all, from catching rides across the country and visiting D.B. I hadn't slept that well through it all. For some reason, I kept on thinking of my dead brother Allie whenever I tried to sleep. Maybe it had something to do with me seeing one of my brothers, but not Allie. Anyway, it kept me awake most of the time.
"I'm going up and towards Nevada. I'll take you as close to near there as I can."
"Thanks."
"Where 'ya from?"
"New York area. "
The "trucker" responded with another grunt type sound and we didn't talk much more after that.
Next, I got my kid sister Phoebe on the brain. I never gave her back her Christmas dough before I split towards California. I felt pretty bad about it, but she wouldn't take it, if you want to know the truth. The world out here in the western U.S. is very different than New York. I never really liked it there; I never belonged in such a big city. I thought I was stuck with the "New York situation;" going through the processes of enrolling and then getting the axe from various boarding schools throughout the East. Then one day it came to me; I would hitch hike out to California, and live by myself in a cabin in the woods. I'd be self-sustainable, and only let my family into my house. D.B. would only be allowed without a movie script in hand. It would be a complete phony-free environment, just the way I wanted it.
So here I was, sitting in the car with a stranger. I didn't even know his goddamn name.
"Hey, what's your name?"
"Craig," said Craig. A thought popped into my head right then. I don't know why it did.
" Ever been to New York, Craig? Central Park?" I'd never found out what happened to those ducks, the ducks that live in Central Park. What happened to them in the winter always bothered me.
"Yeah, way back when."
"Well do you know what happens to the ducks?"
"The what?"
"The ducks. Never mind." This was the second time I had asked a driver and not gotten an answer. Those goddamn ducks.
Soon enough, Craig pulled over and let me out of his car after I had thanked him. At first the door stuck and I had to kick it a few times before it opened. Stupid cars. Always acting up like that.
I was thinking that I would only have to get about one more hour's worth of rides until I ended up where I wanted to be, Northern California. While I was sitting, I started thinking about Jane Gallagher, my best friend from a few summers ago. I hadn't talked to her since then, since before school started. I thought about her a lot, honestly. I hadn't even heard about old Jane Gallagher lately, except for when my ex-dorm mate, Stradlater, took her out and quite possibly 'gave her the time.' If you want to know the truth, Stradlater thought he could give any girl that he wanted to, 'the time,' and I really hope he didn't want old Jane for that purpose. It just made me feel weird thinking about it.
All of a sudden, I change my mind. I changed my mind about hitch hiking up more North, and making a cabin with no one near me at all, and starting over, this time without phonies and school. I wanted to meet Jane again. I wanted to talk to her, and in all true honesty, I didn't know what else I wanted. Just like that, I crossed the highway and put my thumb up. Ten minutes later I was headed back to New York City.
Chapter Two
I was back in New York within the week. I had gone all that way, and back, and now it was time to give old Jane a buzz. In the phone booth, I started getting real nervous. I even started to sweat like a bastard and all. I managed to dial the numbers correctly and press the button to start the call.
It rang once and I hung up. I don't exactly know why I was nervous, but if you want to know the truth, I was. After waiting for a few long minutes, I redialed, and this time I stayed on the line.
"Hello?" It was Jane, the Jane, of my childhood. The girl I quite possibly was in love with, whether I liked it or not.
"Hey, hello Jane." I stuttered. I hadn't really thought of what I would say exactly. I probably sounded just like one of those pervert-weirdo's. They kill me.
"Who is this?" She sounded really different than the voice I remember from two or three years ago.
"This is Holden. Holden Caulfield. We were friends back in Maine."
"Holden! It's been so long since I've talked to you! How are you! Where are you? Do you still go to that boarding school? How are your brothers? And Phoebe? " She started asking a lot of questions but I only felt like answering the first two.
"I'm fine, thanks," I already told you before; I'm a natural at lying. "Hey listen, would you want to meet up for a drink sometime? I'll take you out. We can catch up."
"That'd be… great!" I thought for a second that she was going to reply with the word grand. One thing I liked about Jane was that she never used phony words as such.
We made arrangements to meet at a place downtown, the Lavender Room, that night. I had gone there a few times before. It wasn't all that great but it was the only place I could think of to take Jane out when I was on the phone and all.
Chapter Three
I was sitting there at the Lavender Room real fidgety. I should have asked if we could meet somewhere else, but my goddamn brain. It was 8:07. Girls always try to be "fashionably late." It doesn't make sense to me, and it sure as hell doesn't seem so fashionable to me. If you tell someone you are going to meet at eight o' clock, why not actually show up at eight o' clock like you said you would?
While I was thinking about all of this, Jane showed up. I could tell she didn't recognize me right away; she scanned the room a couple times with her bright blue eyes before she finally noticed me sitting at a small table on the notorious vomity-looking seats. As she sort of skipped over to the table, I decided I loved her. It seems like a big decision, that you actually love someone, but it seemed simple at the time.
I could tell that Jane was Jane right away because of her eyes. They were aqua blue, with green around the edges. They were big and always happy-looking. Her hair was also the same as before, long, chocolate-colored, and golden brown at the ends.
"Holden!" She practically screamed. I guess she was pretty excited.
"Jane! You look wonderful! And different!" I think I can be quite suave when I want to be.
"And you, too! How are you!?"
"I'm really well, thanks. I just got back from visiting D.B. in California a week or so ago."
"Really! How was that? And how is Allie, and Phoebe, and your mother and dad?" She really can speak fast when she wants to.
"Well, they're all pretty good. Except for Allie. He died of leukemia last summer. D.B-"
"What!"
"Oh, right. Yeah. No lie. But I don't really like talking about it that much."
"Okay, yeah."
It was a little bit awkward then. I didn't know what to say, and I had forgotten what we were talking about before that. Dead end.
"And how is Phoebe doing?"
The conversation went on like that, just talking about the changes that had occurred since my most memorable summer ever. She no longer owned the Doberman Pincer, the one that used to relieve itself in my family's Maine yard, and now had a poodle named Gary. Jane got bored fo checkers but she's interested in chess now. She couldn't play tennis anymore, because she sprained her ankle pretty badly a year ago. The facts went on and on and on, but none were especially interesting except for one.
"You're getting married?" My face flushed as I looked over and noticed the large diamond sitting on her ring finger. It was quite flashy if you want to know the truth.
"Yes! Isn't it wonderful? I met him not that long ago, but I really think it’s the right thing to do, for both of us. He's amazing."
My hands, which were under the table, started shaking. It wasn't so bad, but I could definitely feel them shaking. If you were in my situation I bet your hands would shake too. I didn't want to be there at all at that point, but what was I supposed to do? I couldn't just leave old Jane in the Lavender Room.
"Oh. I see. Yeah, that sounds great!"
Old Jane Gallagher went on and on excitedly talking. She was so stoked that she didn't even notice the sickly color that was creeping up my neck. I couldn't believe that I was too late for Jane and me, and that depressed the hell out of me.
"By next month I'll be Mrs. Jane Stradlater." She beamed. I gaped.
"Did you say.. Mrs. Jane… Stradlater? As in Ward Stradlater? Who goes to Pencey Prep in Pennsylvania? That Stradlater?"
"Yes! Oh Holden, you know him? Perhaps you can be in the wedding then!"
I couldn't take it anymore. I hastily made up a lie about how it was Allie's birthday and I had to visit him at a graveyard, and she soaked it up like a sponge. After she apologized like mad, and I ensured her that it was okay, I stumbled out the door. I was a tad bit drunk from the coke and rum that I had at the bar, but that wasn't really the reason that I was staggering. It was because I had wasted my entire life over Jane, the love of my life, and the person she fell for was a phony, irritating guy who was more handsome than myself. Stupid girls will always fall for guys like Stradlater. All they care for is looks, not brains or anything. Well its not like I have any of those either. I'm an ugly, high school drop out times four. I have grey hairs on half of my head. Grey hairs! What the hell! I would never get a girl as great as Jane. The only girls that I could get are the ones that have scraggle teeth and say things like grand. No one loved me. Allie was dead. D.B. had sold out. I didn't have any place to go or live. I was completely out of money. What was the purpose of living? I wasn't going to get anywhere in life. Like Mr. Antollini, and Mr. Spencer, I was heading towards a dead end in life.
I hailed a taxi. One came pretty fast, but before I got in I asked the driver what happened to the ducks in Central Park.
"What are you talking about? Get in, you moron!" The driver yelled something out the window but I stepped away, back onto the curb, and called another one.
"What happens to the ducks in Central Park in the winter, sir?"
"I think they migrate down south. Probably to Florida or something. Now are you getting in or wasting more of my time?"
I got in. "Empire State Building please." During the drive there I pictured the ducks migrating away. They had an escape, with a family and place to go home to where they felt where they belonged. I didn't, which was why I was on my way to the Empire State Building. I was also thinking about James Castle during the drive. He pulled some crazy sort of stunt. He was pushed or something out of his window. Whatever happened, he didn't deserve it. Did I deserve to live?
I paid the taxi driver and without looking up or around, anywhere, I entered into the large marble lobby, blindly ran into the staircase, and began my journey up the eighty-something stories, skipping every other step. I could take the elevator, but I didn't want to be questioned by the elevator guy. I didn't feel like talking to anyone, anywhere. All I could think about was Jane and Stradlater, necking after some awful, phony priest, made them say "I do" and all. It was the most horrible image I'd ever conjured in my mind. And because of this, I was standing on the railing of the top of the Empire State Building. I had nothing going for me in life; there was no hope. I half wished someone would come out and stop me, and all, but no one did. So I jumped.