第21章
《THE CATCHER IN THE RYE(麦田里的守望者英文版)》章节:第21章,宠文网网友提供全文无弹窗免费在线阅读。!
I'll bet
I woke up every bastard on the whole floor. Then I got the hell out. Some stupid guy had
thrown peanut shells all over the stairs, and I damn near broke my crazy neck.
8
It was too late to call up for a cab or anything, so I walked the whole way to the
station. It wasn't too far, but it was cold as hell, and the snow made it hard for walking,
and my Gladstones kept banging hell out of my legs. I sort of enjoyed the air and all,
though. The only trouble was, the cold made my nose hurt, and right under my upper lip,
where old Stradlater'd laid one on me. He'd smacked my lip right on my teeth, and it was
pretty sore. My ears were nice and warm, though. That hat I bought had earlaps in it, and
I put them on--I didn't give a damn how I looked. Nobody was around anyway.
Everybody was in the sack.
I was quite lucky when I got to the station, because I only had to wait about ten
minutes for a train. While I waited, I got some snow in my hand and washed my face
with it. I still had quite a bit of blood on.
Usually I like riding on trains, especially at night, with the lights on and the
windows so black, and one of those guys coming up the aisle selling coffee and
sandwiches and magazines. I usually buy a ham sandwich and about four magazines. If
I'm on a train at night, I can usually even read one of those dumb stories in a magazine
without puking. You know. One of those stories with a lot of phony, lean-jawed guys
named David in it, and a lot of phony girls named Linda or Marcia that are always
lighting all the goddam Davids' pipes for them. I can even read one of those lousy stories
on a train at night, usually. But this time, it was different. I just didn't feel like it. I just
sort of sat and not did anything. All I did was take off my hunting hat and put it in my
pocket.
All of a sudden, this lady got on at Trenton and sat down next to me. Practically
the whole car was empty, because it was pretty late and all, but she sat down next to me,
instead of an empty seat, because she had this big bag with her and I was sitting in the
front seat. She stuck the bag right out in the middle of the aisle, where the conductor and
everybody could trip over it. She had these orchids on, like she'd just been to a big party
or something. She was around forty or forty-five, I guess, but she was very good looking.
Women kill me. They really do. I don't mean I'm oversexed or anything like that--
although I am quite sexy. I just like them, I mean. They're always leaving their goddam
bags out in the middle of the aisle./>
Anyway, we were sitting there, and all of a sudden she said to me, "Excuse me,
but isn't that a Pencey Prep sticker?" She was looking up at my suitcases, up on the rack.
"Yes, it is," I said. She was right. I did have a goddam Pencey sticker on one of
my Gladstones. Very corny, I'll admit.
"Oh, do you go to Pencey?" she said. She had a nice voice. A nice telephone
voice, mostly. She should've carried a goddam telephone around with her.
"Yes, I do," I said.
"Oh, how lovely! Perhaps you know my son, then, Ernest Morrow? He goes to
Pencey."
"Yes, I do. He's in my class."
Her son was doubtless the biggest bastard that ever went to Pencey, in the whole
crumby history of the school. He was always going down the corridor, after he'd had a
shower, snapping his soggy old wet towel at people's asses. That's exactly the kind of a
guy he was.
"Oh, how nice!"