Out & Away

Just a short hour or two ago I left Pencey for good. I hardly said good bye. I tried to say something to a few people, but the rest of those phonies, those boys who "apply" themselves at Pency and their teachers who would constantly buy into their stupid existence as phonies, I didn’t need to say goodbye too. They were too ashamed of my being at their helluva good school anyway. I’m on a train now. When I got to the station I asked for a one way ticket to New York. I’m surprised the man working the booth didn’t ask me why I was leaving, or why I was going so late at night. It seems like everyone these days is either trying to avoid you or get right smack in the middle of your business, and find out every last goddamn awful problem in your life. Reminds me of Ackley, my roommate back at Pency. He was one of those people that always wanted to know what you were doing. I had always found it to be a little invasive and all but sometimes I kind of wish I would have told him my problems. It’s not like he would have cared that much. The ticket boy didn’t even ask me about Pencey (he would have known I went there because of all the stupid stickers on my luggage). Everyone knows that goddam school around here, its the kind of place that attracts attention, what with snobby phonies pouring out of it. I’m pretty glad that he didn’t ask me about it, not that I ever would of mentioned my getting the ax and all; I probably would have made up some terrifically intricate lie, if he cared enough to listen. Another thing, I'm one helluva liar. I lie to hide myself, and just for the fun of it. It comes so naturally that I'm worried it may be some sort of disease. Now I’m sitting on a train. We are moving now. I’m wearing that red hat that I picked up the day of the fencing trip. It was only a buck. Its the type of hat that changes you when you wear it. And I’m not trying to be some cheesy phony who is emotional or something like that and all its just that when I wear that hat I feel different, if that makes sense. I guess that's why I started talking to the lady in the seat next to me. Her boy went to Pencey and she happened to sit down right next to me. I knew of him, but he wasn’t a friend or anything (he was quite the opposite actually). But I just told that lady some really quite excellent lie (if I do say so myself). I told her that her son was a very intelligent boy, and how everyone "loved" him. I don't know what it is, but sometimes I’m a pleaser that way. I guess I just didn’t want her to be depressed or anything. Maybe its because I know that feeling, or I was thinking of my mother, and the way she's gonna feel when I get home. Then I did something that just about killed me, I told her that I was heading to New York before school got off because I have a tumor in the back of my brain. Now she thinks I’m off to New York to have a big operation on my brain. My goddam brain! I can’t believe she bought that. People are so easily fooled if you tell them a sad story, it seems like some sort of human flaw of something. Not that I am saying its bad to be caring and loving and all, its just that we let sad stuff conquer us. I would say I have that flaw. I’m definitely not the happy kid my sister Phoebe is. Old Phoebe, now she is a wonderful kid. I miss her, I hope I'll see her soon, I would call her but I don't want my parents to find out about the little vacation I seem to have taken from Pencey. They don’t even know about the grand old ax of Holden Caulfield(that's what I have called my departure from Pencey)yet.

-HC