第16章
《THE CATCHER IN THE RYE(麦田里的守望者英文版)》章节:第16章,宠文网网友提供全文无弹窗免费在线阅读。!
I said. "Did you ask her if she still keeps all her kings in the
back row?"
"No, I didn't ask her. What the hell ya think we did all night--play checkers, for
Chrissake?"
I didn't even answer him. God, how I hated him.
"If you didn't go to New York, where'd ya go with her?" I asked him, after a little
while. I could hardly keep my voice from shaking all over the place. Boy, was I getting
nervous. I just had a feeling something had gone funny.
He was finished cutting his damn toenails. So he got up from the bed, in just his
damn shorts and all, and started getting very damn playful. He came over to my bed and
started leaning over me and taking these playful as hell socks at my shoulder. "Cut it
out," I said. "Where'd you go with her if you didn't go to New York?"
"Nowhere. We just sat in the goddam car." He gave me another one of those
playtul stupid little socks on the shoulder.
"Cut it out," I said. "Whose car?"
"Ed Banky's."
Ed Banky was the basketball coach at Pencey. Old Stradlater was one of his pets,
because he was the center on the team, and Ed Banky always let him borrow his car when
he wanted it. It wasn't allowed for students to borrow faculty guys' cars, but all the
athletic bastards stuck together. In every school I've gone to, all the athletic bastards stick
together.
Stradlater kept taking these shadow punches down at my shoulder. He had his
toothbrush in his hand, and he put it in his mouth. "What'd you do?" I said. "Give her the
time in Ed Banky's goddam car?" My voice was shaking something awful.
"What a thing to say. Want me to wash your mouth out with soap?"
"Did you?"
"That's a professional secret, buddy."
This next part I don't remember so hot. All I know is I got up from the bed, like I
was going down to the can or something, and then I tried to sock him, with all my might,
right smack in the toothbrush, so it would split his goddam throat open. Only, I missed. I
didn't connect. All I did was sort of get him on the side of the head or something. It
probably hurt him a little bit, but not as much as I wanted. It probably would've hurt him
a lot, but I did it with my right hand, and I can't make a good fist with that hand. On
account of that injury I told you about.
Anyway, the next thing I knew, I was on the goddam floor and he was sitting on
my chest, with his face all red. That is, he had his goddam knees on my chest, and he
weighed about a ton. He had hold of my wrists, too, so I couldn't take another sock at
him. I'd've killed him.
"What the hell's the matter with you?" he kept saying, and his stupid race kept
getting redder and redder.
"Get your lousy knees off my chest," I told him. I was almost bawling. I really
was. "Go on, get off a me, ya crumby bastard."
He wouldn't do it, though. He kept holding onto my wrists and I kept calling him
a sonuvabitch and all, for around ten hours. I can hardly even remember what all I said to
him. I told him he thought he could give the time to anybody he felt like. I told him he
didn't even care if a girl kept all her kings in the back row or not, and the reason he didn't
care was because he was a goddam stupid moron. He hated it when you called a moron.
All morons hate it when you call them a moron.
"Shut up, now, Holden," he said with his big stupid red face. "just shut up, now."
"You don't even know if her first name is Jane or Jean, ya goddam moron!"