Properties
- end_line
- 5139
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T03:41:20.747Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
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- 5085
- text
- I helped them find the place where the mummies were. Boy, I used to know exactly
where they were, but I hadn't been in that museum in years.
"You two guys so interested in mummies?" I said.
"Yeah."
"Can't your friend talk?" I said.
"He ain't my friend. He's my brudda."
"Can't he talk?" I looked at the one that wasn't doing any talking. "Can't you talk
at all?" I asked him.
"Yeah," he said. "I don't feel like it."
Finally we found the place where the mummies were, and we went in.
"You know how the Egyptians buried their dead?" I asked the one kid.
"Naa."
"Well, you should. It's very interesting. They wrapped their faces up in these
cloths that were treated with some secret chemical. That way they could be buried in their
tombs for thousands of years and their faces wouldn't rot or anything. Nobody knows
how to do it except the Egyptians. Even modern science."
To get to where the mummies were, you had to go down this very narrow sort of
hall with stones on the side that they'd taken right out of this Pharaoh's tomb and all. It
was pretty spooky, and you could tell the two hot-shots I was with weren't enjoying it too
much. They stuck close as hell to me, and the one that didn't talk at all practically was
holding onto my sleeve. "Let's go," he said to his brother. "I seen 'em awreddy. C'mon,
hey." He turned around and beat it.
"He's got a yella streak a mile wide," the other one said. "So long!" He beat it too.
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I was the only one left in the tomb then. I sort of liked it, in a way. It was so nice
and peaceful. Then, all of a sudden, you'd never guess what I saw on the wall. Another
"Fuck you." It was written with a red crayon or something, right under the glass part of
the wall, under the stones.
That's the whole trouble. You can't ever find a place that's nice and peaceful,
because there isn't any. You may think there is, but once you get there, when you're not
looking, somebody'll sneak up and write "Fuck you" right under your nose. Try it
sometime. I think, even, if I ever die, and they stick me in a cemetery, and I have a
tombstone and all, it'll say "Holden Caulfield" on it, and then what year I was born and
what year I died, and then right under that it'll say "Fuck you." I'm positive, in fact.
After I came out of the place where the mummies were, I had to go to the
bathroom. I sort of had diarrhea, if you want to know the truth. I didn't mind the diarrhea
part too much, but something else happened. When I was coming out of the can, right
before I got to the door, I sort of passed out. I was lucky, though. I mean I could've killed
myself when I hit the floor, but all I did was sort of land on my side. it was a funny thing,
though. I felt better after I passed out. I really did. My arm sort of hurt, from where I fell,
but I didn't feel so damn dizzy any more.
It was about ten after twelve or so then, and so I went back and stood by the door
and waited for old Phoebe. I thought how it might be the last time I'd ever see her again.
Any of my relatives, I mean. I figured I'd probably see them again, but not for years. I
might come home when I was about thirty-five. I figured, in case somebody got sick and
wanted to see me before they died, but that would be the only reason I'd leave my cabin
and come back. I even started picturing how it would be when I came back. I knew my
mother'd get nervous as hell and start to cry and beg me to stay home and not go back to
my cabin, but I'd go anyway. I'd be casual as hell. I'd make her calm down, and then I'd
go over to the other side of the living room and take out this cigarette case and light a
cigarette, cool as all hell. I'd ask them all to visit me sometime if they wanted to, but I
wouldn't insist or anything. What I'd do, I'd let old Phoebe come out and visit me in the
summertime and on Christmas vacation and Easter vacation. And I'd let D.B. come out
and visit me for a while if he wanted a nice, quiet place for his writing, but he couldn't
- title
- Chunk 6