(based on The Catcher in the Rye, by J. D. Salinger)
By Eli Bailit III
A couple years back I was at camp. It was this phony theatre camp my parents had sent me to so I could “further my natural talent” or some rubbish like that. I don’t really like theatre at all, if you want to know the truth. I mean, it’s not as bad as the movies, but it’s still phony as hell. One time when we were little, Allie and I went to see a dinky community theatre show of “Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.” Now I can barely stand dramas for one thing, but those fairytales, boy, they kill me. They really do. Allie and I almost fell out of our seats, how corny it was. I mean, the dwarves were taller than goddamn Snow White herself!
Anyway, the camp was full of phonies – I swear to god, you’ve never seen so many. It was like the goddamn phony olympics. The folks at this camp were fairytale kind of phonies. And there was this one girl, Louise, who was the worst of them all. She would have won every goddamn gold medal at the Phony Olympics, no kidding. Old Louise was one of those girls who acted funny around guys. This was a couple years back, and I didn’t have much taste for girls yet, if you want to know the truth. I think I was just a late bloomer. Of course Old Louise picked me as her target. There are some girls, especially the younger ones, who are jerks to boys when they like them. This Louise must’ve really liked me, since she was the biggest phony jerk you’d ever seen. Half the time she’d be all, “Oh, Holden, your acting was superb today,” and then the rest of the time she would be an absolute menace. Man, that phony two-faced act killed me. She would pull my hair, step on my foot, anything to really piss me off. I would have let one go at her, too, if she wasn’t a girl and all, trust me.
One day, old Louise started this new act – she would call my name over and over and over until I turned around and paid attention to her. I had really had enough, though, and so one time I just didn’t turn around. She kept calling my name with that same whiny voice: “Holden, Hoooooolden!” You won’t believe what she did next. She took a hula hoop and chucked the thing right at the back of my neck. I told you she’d win the Phony Olympics, since that throw would have made her the discus champion. It hit me spot on and I was red for days. Anyway, I was mad. I went up to the camp director, Mr. Snobmeiser or something phony like that, and told him what was going on. I’m not a snitch, I’m really not, it just had to be done. Old Louise had the brilliant idea to run into the bathroom and hide. Snobmeiser went in after her and they came out five minutes later.
I had a feeling something was wrong since old Snobmeiser was looking right at me and Louise had tears in her eyes but a goddamn smirk on her face. Snobmeiser told me I had really upset old Louise and I ought to apologize to her. Me, apologize to her?! That’s one thing I just can’t stand about girls. They look so goddamn pristine and innocent that people assume they did nothing wrong. And these adults, they take one look at you and think you’re the bad egg. Louise had used her little girl cry card and now I looked like the jerk. That’s when I knew I had to get the hell out of that crumby place.