Properties
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- 5189
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T03:41:20.747Z
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- 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
write any movies in my cabin, only stories and books. I'd have this rule that nobody could
do anything phony when they visited me. If anybody tried to do anything phony, they
couldn't stay.
All of a sudden I looked at the clock in the checkroom and it was twenty-five of
one. I began to get scared that maybe that old lady in the school had told that other lady
not to give old Phoebe my message. I began to get scared that maybe she'd told her to
burn it or something. It really scared hell out of me. I really wanted to see old Phoebe
before I hit the road. I mean I had her Christmas dough and all.
Finally, I saw her. I saw her through the glass part of the door. The reason I saw
her, she had my crazy hunting hat on--you could see that hat about ten miles away.
I went out the doors and started down these stone stairs to meet her. The thing I
couldn't understand, she had this big suitcase with her. She was just coming across Fifth
Avenue, and she was dragging this goddam big suitcase with her. She could hardly drag
it. When I got up closer, I saw it was my old suitcase, the one I used to use when I was at
Whooton. I couldn't figure out what the hell she was doing with it. "Hi," she said when
she got up close. She was all out of breath from that crazy suitcase.
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"I thought maybe you weren't coming," I said. "What the hell's in that bag? I don't
need anything. I'm just going the way I am. I'm not even taking the bags I got at the
station. What the hellya got in there?"
She put the suitcase down. "My clothes," she said. "I'm going with you. Can I?
Okay?"
"What?" I said. I almost fell over when she said that. I swear to God I did. I got
sort of dizzy and I thought I was going to pass out or something again.
"I took them down the back elevator so Charlene wouldn't see me. It isn't heavy.
All I have in it is two dresses and my moccasins and my underwear and socks and some
other things. Feel it. It isn't heavy. Feel it once. . . Can't I go with you? Holden? Can't I?
Please."
"No. Shut up."
I thought I was going to pass out cold. I mean I didn't mean to tell her to shut up
and all, but I thought I was going to pass out again.
"Why can't I? Please, Holden! I won't do anything-- I'll just go with you, that's all!
I won't even take my clothes with me if you don't want me to--I'll just take my--"
"You can't take anything. Because you're not going. I'm going alone. So shut up."
"Please, Holden. Please let me go. I'll be very, very, very--You won't even--"
"You're not going. Now, shut up! Gimme that bag," I said. I took the bag off her. I
was almost all set to hit her, I thought I was going to smack her for a second. I really did.
She started to cry.
"I thought you were supposed to be in a play at school and all I thought you were
supposed to be Benedict Arnold in that play and all," I said. I said it very nasty.
"Whuddaya want to do? Not be in the play, for God's sake?" That made her cry even
harder. I was glad. All of a sudden I wanted her to cry till her eyes practically dropped
out. I almost hated her. I think I hated her most because she wouldn't be in that play any
more if she went away with me.
"Come on," I said. I started up the steps to the museum again. I figured what I'd
do was, I'd check the crazy suitcase she'd brought in the checkroom, andy then she could
get it again at three o'clock, after school. I knew she couldn't take it back to school with
her. "Come on, now," I said.
She didn't go up the steps with me, though. She wouldn't come with me. I went up
- title
- Chunk 7