第36章
《THE CATCHER IN THE RYE(麦田里的守望者英文版)》章节:第36章,宠文网网友提供全文无弹窗免费在线阅读。!
she asked me. She didn't seem too goddam friendly.
"Is he the elevator boy?"
"Yeah," she said.
"Yes, I am. Come in, won't you?" I said. I was getting more and more nonchalant
as it went along. I really was.
She came in and took her coat off right away and sort of chucked it on the bed.
She had on a green dress underneath. Then she sort of sat down sideways on the chair
that went with the desk in the room and started jiggling her foot up and down. She
crossed her legs and started jiggling this one foot up and down. She was very nervous, for
a prostitute. She really was. I think it was because she was young as hell. She was around
my age. I sat down in the big chair, next to her, and offered her a cigarette. "I don't
smoke," she said. She had a tiny little wheeny-whiny voice. You could hardly hear her.
She never said thank you, either, when you offered her something. She just didn't know
any better.
"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jim Steele," I said.
"Ya got a watch on ya?" she said. She didn't care what the hell my name was,
naturally. "Hey, how old are you, anyways?"
"Me? Twenty-two."
"Like fun you are."
It was a funny thing to say. It sounded like a real kid. You'd think a prostitute and
all would say "Like hell you are" or "Cut the crap" instead of "Like fun you are."
"How old are you?" I asked her.
"Old enough to know better," she said. She was really witty. "Ya got a watch on
ya?" she asked me again, and then she stood up and pulled her dress over her head.
I certainly felt peculiar when she did that. I mean she did it so sudden and all. I
know you're supposed to feel pretty sexy when somebody gets up and pulls their dress
over their head, but I didn't. Sexy was about the last thing I was feeling. I felt much more
depressed than sexy.
"Ya got a watch on ya, hey?"
"No. No, I don't," I said. Boy, was I feeling peculiar. "What's your name?" I asked
her. All she had on was this pink slip. It was really quite embarrassing. It really was.
"Sunny," she said. "Let's go, hey."
"Don't you feel like talking for a while?" I asked her. It was a childish thing to
say, but I was feeling so damn peculiar. "Are you in a very big hurry?"
She looked at me like I was a madman. "What the heck ya wanna talk about?" she
said.
"I don't know. Nothing special. I just thought perhaps you might care to chat for a
while."
She sat down in the chair next to the desk again. She didn't like it, though, you
could tell. She started jiggling her foot again--boy, she was a nervous girl.
"Would you care for a cigarette now?" I said. I forgot she didn't smoke.
"I don't smoke. Listen, if you're gonna talk, do it. I got things to do."
I couldn't think of anything to talk about, though. I thought of asking her how she
got to be a prostitute and all, but I was scared to ask her. She probably wouldn't've told
me anyway.
"You don't come from New York, do you?" I said finally. That's all I could think
of.
"Hollywood," she said. Then she got up and went over to where she'd put her
dress down, on the bed. "Ya got a hanger? I don't want to get my dress all wrinkly. It's
brand-clean."
"Sure," I said right away. I was only too glad to get up and do something. I took
her dress over to the closet and hung it up for her. It was funny. It made me feel sort of
sad when I hung it up. I thought of her going in a store and buying it, and nobody in the
store knowing she was a prostitute and all. The salesman probably just thought she was a
regular girl when she bought it. It made me feel sad as hell--I don't know why exactly.
I sat down again and tried to keep the old conversation going. She was a lousy
conversationalist. "Do you work every night?"