Properties
- end_line
- 4994
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T03:41:20.747Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
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- text
- Anyway, I kept walking and walking up Fifth Avenue, without any tie on or
anything. Then all of a sudden, something very spooky started happening. Every time I
came to the end of a block and stepped off the goddam curb, I had this feeling that I'd
never get to the other side of the street. I thought I'd just go down, down, down, and
nobody'd ever see me again. Boy, did it scare me. You can't imagine. I started sweating
like a bastard--my whole shirt and underwear and everything. Then I started doing
something else. Every time I'd get to the end of a block I'd make believe I was talking to
my brother Allie. I'd say to him, "Allie, don't let me disappear. Allie, don't let me
disappear. Allie, don't let me disappear. Please, Allie." And then when I'd reach the other
side of the street without disappearing, I'd thank him. Then it would start all over again as
soon as I got to the next corner. But I kept going and all. I was sort of afraid to stop, I
think--I don't remember, to tell you the truth. I know I didn't stop till I was way up in the
Sixties, past the zoo and all. Then I sat down on this bench. I could hardly get my breath,
and I was still sweating like a bastard. I sat there, I guess, for about an hour. Finally, what
I decided I'd do, I decided I'd go away. I decided I'd never go home again and I'd never
go away to another school again. I decided I'd just see old Phoebe and sort of say good-
by to her and all, and give her back her Christmas dough, and then I'd start hitchhiking
my way out West. What I'd do, I figured, I'd go down to the Holland Tunnel and bum a
ride, and then I'd bum another one, and another one, and another one, and in a few days
I'd be somewhere out West where it was very pretty and sunny and where nobody'd know
me and I'd get a job. I figured I could get a job at a filling station somewhere, putting gas
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and oil in people's cars. I didn't care what kind of job it was, though. Just so people didn't
know me and I didn't know anybody. I thought what I'd do was, I'd pretend I was one of
those deaf-mutes. That way I wouldn't have to have any goddam stupid useless
conversations with anybody. If anybody wanted to tell me something, they'd have to
write it on a piece of paper and shove it over to me. They'd get bored as hell doing that
after a while, and then I'd be through with having conversations for the rest of my life.
Everybody'd think I was just a poor deaf-mute bastard and they'd leave me alone. They'd
let me put gas and oil in their stupid cars, and they'd pay me a salary and all for it, and I'd
build me a little cabin somewhere with the dough I made and live there for the rest of my
life. I'd build it right near the woods, but not right in them, because I'd want it to be sunny
as hell all the time. I'd cook all my own food, and later on, if I wanted to get married or
something, I'd meet this beautiful girl that was also a deaf-mute and we'd get married.
She'd come and live in my cabin with me, and if she wanted to say anything to me, she'd
have to write it on a goddam piece of paper, like everybody else. If we had any children,
we'd hide them somewhere. We could buy them a lot of books and teach them how to
read and write by ourselves.
I got excited as hell thinking about it. I really did. I knew the part about
pretending I was a deaf-mute was crazy, but I liked thinking about it anyway. But I really
decided to go out West and all. All I wanted to do first was say good-by to old Phoebe.
So all of a sudden, I ran like a madman across the street--I damn near got killed doing it,
if you want to know the truth--and went in this stationery store and bought a pad and
pencil. I figured I'd write her a note telling her where to meet me so I could say good-by
to her and give her back her Christmas dough, and then I'd take the note up to her school
and get somebody in the principal's office to give it to her. But I just put the pad and
- title
- Chunk 3