Now you probably want to hear all about that crumby place out by Hollywood and D.B. and all, but now that I’m outta there, I’m not going to think about it for a while. The first thing I had to do was go see old Phoebe. She enrolled in some all-girls school up in the Bay Area. I can’t figure out how she heard about it. D.B. lent me some dough so I could go and take a train about halfway across the state.
I was sitting on one of the hard cold benches that they always have in places like train stations and airports and places like that. I can’t see why anyone would want to sit on those benches anyway. Once, when I was in the subway back in New York, I saw this old man who must have been about a hundred and fifty. I mean he looked like a goddamn fossil. He got on all slow and everything and he just barely got in before the doors closed and started to look around for a seat. And you know what? Nobody would give up their seat for this old guy. I mean, it was those hard plastic seats with the cover peeling and gum all over the bottom and it wasn’t like any of these hotshot business men needed to sit there. This old guy was just about to fall over, and no body would give him their goddamn seat. That’s the only time that I’d want to sit in those seats. If I was a hundred and fifty and looked like a fossil.
I was just sitting there, and thinking about that old guy on the subway and the cold hard seat and not paying any attention to anything at all really. Every so often I’d look at the clock but the hand never seemed to move very much and I still had almost twenty minutes until my train left. See, that was the reason I was sitting on this cold, hard bench with my butt getting all numb and everything like I was waiting for the goddamn cows to come home. There was nothing to do. All there was was a crappy newspaper stand and the clock and the benches. I mean there weren’t even any people around. I didn’t even see the guy who ran the paper stand. All there was was an older guy who was smoking in the corner, and a young lady who was reading a book. She looked like she was enjoying her book. I mean really enjoying it. She had these little reading glasses on her nose and everything, and a little half smile on her face and it made her look pretty. Not gorgeous. She wasn’t a gorgeous lady or anything. But that smile made her look pretty. I thought about going over and talking to her, maybe ask her what book she was reading, but she might stop smiling.
Then the train pulled up and I had to worry about where I had put my ticket. I’m not very good with tickets, if you want to know the truth. I always put them down and I can’t remember where I left them. Today, though, I put them right in the right place, and I hadn’t lost them yet.
The train looked as empty as the station. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were just the damn train driver and me, I swear to god. It was kinda nice, though. I had the whole train all to myself. It also made me feel sad in a way. Kinda lonely. I didn’t know why.
I was bored to hell by the end of that train ride. Once, one of my teachers at Elkton Hills told me about this train that moves so fast that everything is just a blur. I mean it really goes like a bastard, up to two hundred miles an hour. It’s called a bullet train. I really wished I was on one of those trains.
When I got to Palo Alto, where Phoebe’s school is, I saw old Phoebe standing right there. She hadn’t changed a bit. She grinned and I knew she was happy to see me. I hate it when people smile when they are not happy. It bugs the goddamn hell out of me. They just sit there with this big ol’ phony smile plastered all over their goddamn faces and they don’t mean it at all. Phoebe had such a real smile it made me want to smile too.
“Holden, I’ve been waiting for you all day!” She cried. Phoebe’s like that. She’d probably just gotten to the station five minutes ago.
“How are ya?” I asked her.
“Oh, I’m fine,” she waved her hand at me. “But what about you?”
“I’m all better now,” I told her. She didn’t say anything for a minute. Phoebe’s a really smart kid. She can tell and all if someone doesn’t want to talk about something, and she’ll just keep her mouth shut, even if she’s just dying to ask something.
“You have to come and see my school now,” she said. “They let me come out special to get you and I have to go back now, oh you’ll love it, Holden!”
It made me kinda sad to watch her. I mean, she likes this school so much, but then something’s going to happen, and she won’t like it at all any more, and then where the hell will she be? Little kids are like that, if you want to know the truth. I mean, they like one thing so much, but then something goes wrong, and just like that, they don’t like it anymore. It makes me all depressed.
“Ok, lets go.” I didn’t want her to feel bad.
Phoebe goes to this little old school that was founded in 1907 and all that crap. Like I said, it’s an all girls school. It reminded me a whole lot of my old school Pencey. Phoebe’s in the sixth grade now. I don’t know when she got so old.
The first part of the school I saw was these big old double doors. They were this dark green color and all these had birds and things carved into the wood. I mean, it was supposed to be that way. It wasn’t like some kid came and carved in the wood. It was kinda pretty, in a way, but it was a really ugly color green.
Phoebe said that it was her lunch hour, so she had some free time. Then she took me on the grand tour of the school. I mean, she showed me everything! We went all around the “circle,” which was just a big paved circle with a grass one in the middle and all the buildings are around the paved part. If there’s one thing I’ve noticed here, its how big a deal the circle is. I mean, they even named their school newspaper “Around the Circle.” I saw one in the attendance office when I had to check in.
She took me to all of her classrooms and even up the stairs by the carved doors to show me where “the big girl’s” lockers were. They weren’t much bigger than she was. Phoebe just kills me sometimes. The first thing I noticed as we were walking up the stone stairs was that, in the glass wall that was looking out of the school, there was a hole. Just a tiny hole over to the side, but it really made me upset. Someone had stuck a piece of sticky red candy in the hole. It made me so angry. The whole school was nice enough, but I didn’t want Phoebe to go to a school where, when there’s a hole, they just push a piece of candy in to block it up.
I just kept thinking about the hole in the glass and the candy and Phoebe and all until lunch ended. I’ll bet she could have shown me around that school all day, if the bell hadn’t rung.
“It’s a Monday,” said Phoebe suddenly.
“Yeah, I know.”
“All my classes are in order today.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? They’re always in order, right?” Sometimes kids like Phoebe make no sense.
“No, on Tuesdays, it goes period four, then three, then one, then Middle School lunch and Upper School two and then Middle School two and…”
“You mean they change everyday?” That made even less sense than Phoebe.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Holden!”
“Ok, ok, I got it.”
“Good. Let’s go to class. It’s period five now, so I have math.”
I always hated math. It wasn’t that math was so bad, but the goddamn teachers were the worst teachers of any subject I have ever had. I only had one good math teacher ever, but he got sick and had to leave. I liked him because he knew a whole lot. It wasn’t like he learned it outta the book right before he had to teach it or anything. And he kept you on your toes too. He was strict as a bastard, but he was nice too. He would help me if I didn’t understand something. I probably would have passed his class too, but he got sick.
Phoebe’s math class was just like I expected it to be. They had to take a quiz first. The teacher let me have one, but I told her I didn’t want to take it. Math teachers are always so damn condescending. She acted like she knew why I didn’t want to take their goddamn quiz. I’ll bet if there weren’t any teachers, math would be my favorite subject.
After they took the quiz, they had to do problems for a contest or something. They had twenty minutes to do five problems. They were called Olympiads I think. The teacher didn’t offer me one this time. They didn’t learn a thing the entire time. I learned that math is the same everywhere.
“Wasn’t it great, Holden? Math is my favorite class!” Phoebe and I were on our way to her next class.
“I though you said that science was your favorite class.”
“Well it is! But math is my favorite too. And History and English.”
“What about your other class?”
“I don’t like Spanish. It’s my worst class.” I swear, Phoebe really kills me.
The next class was science. I never liked science very much either, but it was better than math. I don’t remember ever learning what Phoebe’s class is doing now. I mean, I don’t think I was ever taught this stuff by my teachers. They were doing something with rocks and rock layers. The kids were really getting into, shouting out answers and stuff. Then they all split up into partners and the teacher got out this big ol’ bucket of clay. There were all these different colors, like reds and yellows and lots of brown. I had no idea what was going on. I really didn’t. I hadn’t really been listening to anything to tell you the truth. I was just watching all these little girls who kept shouting out the answer. It made me think of this guy in my history class at Pencey. His name was Harry Granges. Anyway, this guy Harry in my history class was just like these girls. He liked to learn stuff. You could just tell. He wasn’t sucking up to the teacher to anything, he just liked to learn. He’d always raise his hand, and sometimes, when the poor bastard really got into it, he’d just shout out the answer. The other kids hated his goddamn guts. I didn’t think he was so bad, but I didn’t really know him.
But while I had been thinking about Harry and how he was just like these girls, I missed the whole damn discussion about rocks and what ever else they were talking about so I didn’t know what they were doing with the clay.
They all started to roll the clay into little logs and it took me forever to figure out what they were doing because they kept starting over. Finally, I figured out that they were trying to represent the rock layers. They were all making a really big mess, so the teacher told them to go wash up early. I waited in the classroom while Phoebe went to the bathroom. The teacher was stuck with picking up all the clay while the kids washed their hands. I felt kinda bad for the teacher, but I guess that’s part of her job.
“Wasn’t that the best class?” Phoebe was back and it was time to go. “The next class is Spanish, and I hate it, but we have to go.”
“It’s ok.”
I didn’t like language very much either. I decided I might try and doze off because I hadn’t gotten to much sleep the night before because I had had a helluva time settling down, but when I got to the class, a too-enthusiastic teacher pounced on me. She had a goddamn cheery voice that made it sound like she had just won the lottery or something.
“Hola Holden! Hablas espanol? Do you speak Spanish?”
“Not really.”
“Well then you can learn with your sister!” She sounded as if nothing could have made her happier but I could tell she was a total phony. I’ll bet if she had kids, she’d go home and yell at them. I could see why Phoebe didn’t like the class. She then launched into explanation about the conjugations of the verb “ir” in the present tense. Her game-show-host voice just about made me sick. Sometimes I think language teachers are worse than math teachers. At least there are the occasional good math teachers. I spent the rest of that goddamn class trying to drown out that voice and suffering a splitting headache.
After the class, Phoebe didn’t say anything, but just started walking across the big old circle, to this wooden building.
“Where are we going?”
“Oh, we have meeting in the chapel now.”
I sighed. Meeting in a goddamn chapel? It sounded like something that was gonna be all goddamn religious or something. All these girls were walking over to the chapel too. I had to sit up in the balcony with the Middle Schoolers because of Phoebe. It was really hot and crowded. There wasn’t enough room for half the people up here. Everybody was squeezed together and if somebody whispered, everyone could hear. It was kinda nice in a way.
Then this nice looking woman with really big eyes and gray hair got up on the stage and said some stuff. I don’t remember anything that she said, except that it wasn’t religious. Even though we were in a chapel and everything, it was just school notices and people making jokes and stuff. It was really nice. And while I was sitting there, I started to think about Christmas Mass at church when I was fourteen. We were in this little church, and all these tiny little kids were doing a Christmas pageant, and it was supposed to be all religious and all, but the thing was, it wasn’t. It was the nicest pageant I’ve ever seen. All the little kids dressed up in animal and angel costumes and everything. They were supposed to be doing this song, “Hark now hear the angles sing, a new king born today,” but they didn’t even sing it, they just said the words. And when they sang the traditional Christmas songs, they were all off key. They kept messing up on their lines too. The wise man told everyone how he brought the baby Jesus “Frankenstein.” The best part was, even the old fogies that would have been horrified about these little kids butchering their precious Christmas story enjoyed it and laughed with everyone else.
I just sat there, thinking about the little kids in their pageant and how the school chapel wasn’t so bad after all and how Phoebe’s school was actually kinda nice, even with the goddamn hole in the glass and the bad math and Spanish teachers. And then, the meeting was over, and hadn’t really heard a word.
Then Phoebe did something that really killed me. She put her little hand in mine and said, “Come on, Holden! Lets go home.”
She made me so happy it was like my goddamn heart was swelling up. I mean, she didn’t care what all these people though, she just stuck her hand in mine and smiled. But I didn’t want people to think I was acting like goddamn phony or anything so I just said, “yeah, ok.”