Author's Note: This is my response to "The Catcher in the Rye." I chose to do a fictional piece that is sort of a spin-off of a scene in the book about the main character being "A catcher in the rye." It is about what it would have been like if Holden Caulfield's (the main character) fantasy had come true. I tried to imitate J.D. Salinger's style of writing, and reference different parts of the book. I rewrote the beginning a few times, because it was difficult to use this style of writing. Please leave any comments or criticism you have:
I could tell you why I chose to be a Catcher, but I'm not in the mood to bore you with all that sappy crap about fate and destiny, and how "this job was meant for me." It is, in a way, meant for me, but I just can't explain it, and even if I could, I wouldn't. It's like when you find something you're nuts about, and you can't explain why. It's like that. I just can't explain it, but I know this is what I'm supposed to do.
So, I guess I have to start somewhere. If you've been listening to me from the beginning, you know I got kicked out of old Pencey Prep. They were full of phonies, the whole lot of them. Like they actually cared about a goddam thing about school. All they cared about was what goddam outfit they were going to wear on their date. I can't stand to be around people like that.
I went to New York and stayed at a hotel there for the night. Let me tell you, I won't be stopping there again. After that goddam situation, I stopped for a drink or two at "Ernie's." Not that I really liked the place, but they didn't care how old I was. So I got my cocktails and left. A few days later I was walking along, and I heard this kid singing a song I knew. He really killed me, he really did. The kid wasn't half-bad either. He was walking one the side of the road, just singing "If a body catch a body coming through the rye." I got a big bang out of that. Things like that just kill me.
Anyway, I started thinking about that, and when I talked to old Phoebe at home, asking me about what I wanted to do, this was it. Being a Catcher. Maybe I'm a madman, with this whole fantasy. And asking old Sally Hayes to come run away with me. But maybe I'm supposed to do this. Like I said I can't explain it, but I got to do it.
So, when I left old Phoebe that night, and I gave her my hunting hat, I knew it was for good. I don't know what happened next exactly. Its fuzzy, and I don’t remember much. All I knew is that I was in the museum, and I kind of blanked from there. But then I was here, in the rye field.
I was standing up on the cliff, the one I was thinking about. I was in Colorado, I knew it. I don't remember much how I got there, but its one of those things you just know. It's like when you just know things, without a teacher or a parent or some other phony teaching you. I just knew I was there. The kids were in the rye, playing their games. You could barely see them, just a bunch of little colorful fluffs bobbing up and down in all the rye. I got a big bang out of that.
It was all perfect. The kids would be playing tag, or races or some other game I had never heard of, and when they got to close to the edge, I would catch them, and send them back into the field. Me as the Catcher. It was just like the museum back in New York. I could sit there, watching the kids for days, and nothing would change, just like the museum. No phonies, no nothing to change anything. I could walk away and walk back and nothing would change, just like the museum. They were just running around, the kids I mean. Playing tag, running around like maniacs. It was almost sweet, if you want to know the truth. They reminded me of Phoebe. I really wanted to give her a buzz about now, but I was a Catcher, and I had to catch the kids.
One of them was getting way too close to the edge again when it got later that day. I ran over fast as hell and stopped that kid. "Hey," I said, all authoritative-like. "You can't be here. This is the cliff you see." I motioned to the edge a few yards away.
"She said that we could go wherever we want," said the boy, staring up at me.
This kid was starting to get on my nerves. "Who? I'm the only Catcher here. Everyone knows that. Its just me and you guys in the rye," I said.
"Stop shouting Holden," said the boy, just like Sally.
"Who told you?" I repeated.
"Stop yelling at me!" shouted the boy, starting to cry. "She's in the field talking to us. Go ask her!"
The kid ran back into the rye field. I went in after him, trying not to get my yellowness take me over. I was a Catcher, after all. I know I'm pretty yellow about confrontations, but this was different. I'm the big one around here. So anyway, when I finally caught up to the boy, all the kids were all huddled in a group around someone. I straightened up, authoritative as hell, and said "Hey, all right come out. Who do you think you are, telling them they can go by that cliff? I'm the Catcher."
"Holden!" cried Phoebe.
I swear, my mouth literally dropped to the ground. It sounds corny, but it really did. "Phoebe? What are you doing here? I told you that you can't come with me!"
"Holden, when are you going to get it through your head? You can't stay here, and neither can they," she gestured to the other kids. "Let them go to the cliff. You should go too."
"No, NO I WON'T!" I screamed. "Just go back to playing your games! I'm the goddam Catcher. Go back!"
Phoebe looked at me real hard, and I noticed she was still wearing my hunting hat. The point was in the back, like I used to wear it. It looked good that way on Phoebe. She walked up to me real slowly, and took off the hat. Her eyes started to water. I just hate that when Phoebe cries. It's weird, if you want to know the truth. It just makes me so sad and confused, because Phoebe's the best person I know, and if she cries it's just…wrong.
When she was finally standing in front of me, I bent down and told her real sternly, "Come on Phoebe. Put the hat back on. Stay here if you want, just don't go to the cliff."
She looked back at me, and shoved the hat in my hands real fast. I was pretty confused now. Before I could even speak, she ran right past me, in the direction of the cliff. The other kids, the whole lot of them, ran after her.
"NO!" I screamed. Now I was crying too. Balling, just like when I left Phoebe that night. I ran after her, fast as hell, screaming all the way.
They were all standing in a line, by the edge of the cliff, the kids I mean. They looked like soldiers, all lined up and ready for battle. I would have got a big bang out of it if I weren't a Catcher. Phoebe was all the way to the right of them. I was still crying real hard. I just wanted this to stop. This wasn't supposed to be Phoebe, or the other kids, or me. This was for phonies, for the adults, for Mr. Antolini, for old Spencer! I was done with all this crap a long time ago, when I was with all those phonies and people who didn't give one goddam thought about what I thought.
I didn't know it, but old Phoebe was staring at me the whole time. She then glanced at the rest of the kids, who all jumped off that goddam cliff I was supposed to protect.
"No don't! What the hell are you doing?" I cried, my knees buckling to the ground. It sounds pretty sappy I know, like in those films where the actors just fall down and cry when their heart gets broken, or they hear bad news. I'm not sappy, ever, but I was then. Old Phoebe was still there, staring at me. Then she finally said, "It's time to grow, Holden. I have to, and so do you." She walked up to me, and gave me a hug. I was still crying real hard, just like the night I left. Phoebe looked at me real sadly, then jumped off, too.
"Phoebe!" I screamed. This was my only job, the only one I every wanted, and now it was gone, like Phoebe. They were all gone, everyone, but me. I fell down and laid there, in the rye, crying, and screaming Phoebe's name, over, and over again, until I fell asleep.
