When I was 15 I read J.D Salinger's Catcher In The Rye. My uncle had told me to read it, my uncle was (still is) my hero and I always did what he told me. I thought it was perfect and quickly labeled it my favourite book of all time.

Because my Uncle lived on the other side of the world, seeing him wasn't exactly easy. I missed him (still miss him) and so to keep in contact and to keep ourselves entertained we'd email each other as various J.D Salinger characters.

Going through a bunch of crazily old emails I found this little extra scene that I wrote for about midway through Catcher. I really, really like it. Holden is a great character and it was fun to write from his perspective.

My main resolution for 2010 is to be as passionate about creative writing as I was when I was a teenager, even if I can recreate just half of the enthusiasm I used to have for writing I'll be a very happy girl indeed.

Anyway, do read it if you like Holden as much as I do. I'm pretty certain that even seven years later I wouldn't change much about it as a piece of writing except for maybe some of the grammar and sentence structure :) 

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So there I was with what seemed like a whole lifetime to kill. I’d bought a burger and asked for no mayonnaise but the jackasses that work there gave me like a tonne of the stuff; I bet they did on purpose too. Just 'cause they’re spending their lives in a burger bar they think that everyone else should share their misery. So there I was with this burger in my hand, I coulda just scraped the mayo out I guess but by this point I just couldn’t be bothered. I tried to give it to this homeless guy; I could see he’d been eyeing it. But he just yelled at me about how he doesn’t need charity. To be sleeping in a dumpster and not accepting charity showed the guy had a lot of pride, I didn’t know whether to respect him or think he was an idiot. Either way, thinking about it wouldn’t kill the next few hours any faster.

I considered giving old Monica a buzz. She was this girl I used to go around with when I was at Whooton. She killed me. Everything excited her, I mean everything. You’d think she was real dumb to tell you to the truth but she wasn’t. That’s what was funny, she was like a goddam genius but you’d think she was this crazy bimbo, which in a way she was too. 

Anyway, I felt like shooting the bull and I knew Monica would be willing to go "Jesus, Holden. That’s amazing" in all the right places, she’s reliable in that way. In other ways she’s not so reliable, I remember waiting at Central Park in a blizzard for like fifty hours to go to some stupid show at Radio City, which she’d chosen. I’d given her the money and told her to book some tickets up, she’s a lady in that sense, she expects you to pay for EVERYTHING. So she’d booked tickets to see some show, which I wasn’t too crazy about seeing, and I’d seen her buy the tickets and stuff and then she didn’t even show up. So I stood there like a jackass for forever and I couldn’t even go to see the show alone 'cause she had the tickets. I got all riled up to have a go at her the next time I saw her, but the next day she came to my house, all unexpected and all, and she was wearing this really low cut top. I mean seriously low cut, the type that your mother would see and say "What a hussy". She’d worn it on purpose, to win me over. And she did that all right, she had the most amazing cleavage and instead of arguing I ended up necking her all evening.

I was hoping something similar could happen tonight, after I’d charmed her with some crap about how I was captain of the football team or something. I went into a drugstore, found a booth and dialled the number. I can always remember it because its only one digit off this pizza company we use, people are always phoning her house asking for sloppy giuseppes and stuff, it drives her dad crazy I swear.

The phone started ringing, knowing my luck she was probably doing something really phony tonight like singing to orphans.

Her older brother answered, I almost hung up right there. He scared the crap out of me he really did. He was a Marine and as big a guy I had never seen. He’d been to Whooton but before me. Yeah that’s right he went to Whooton and now he’s a Marine. How sucky is that? I’m not saying that people from private schools should all be lawyers and doctors or anything but to become canon fodder after years of crippling school fees must be sucky for his parents. I’m not into war and all that as I already told you, so I wouldn’t join the Marines. His mom makes out she’s all proud, god bless America and all that crap but I bet that she’s sad deep down. She collected food vouchers so she could send her first born away to have a head start in life and now he’s just a Marine. Just a Marine. I hope people wont say that about me but now that I’m kicked out of Pencey. I’ll probably end up just like him. He was a bastard as well. It would be all right if he was a Marine because he wanted to protect the people of America but he just wanted to carry a gun and beat people up. And he sure wasn’t too hot about me; he didn’t know why Monica liked me. He thought I thought about things too much. As if he’d know, he met me once for like 5 minutes.

"Is that Caulfield?"

"No, this is John West," I didn’t want him to know it was me for reasons I’ve already explained, so I read the name off a tin of tuna. I’m so stupid. "Is it possible to speak to Monica please?"

"I’ll get her."

At least someone in New York was home.

"John, oh my goodness, how the hell are you?"

"This isn’t,"

"I never thought you’d call! It’s so funny I was just looking at a photo of us from Camp; I always thought you must have lost my number. It’s been like six months, but heck I’m not complaining. John West, who’d a thought it!?"

Yeah John West, who’d a thought it? I make up a fake alias and it just happens to be some guy she used to go around with, stuff like this only happens to me.

"We just have to meet up!"

"I know, its been a while, how about tonight? Let me take you somewhere fancy,’" I’m a madman I swear.

"That sounds so amazing, I look forward to it very much." At this point she was just about to hang up the phone, without making the arrangements, this is what I meant about her being ditzy and all.

"Hold on, let’s make some arrangements. What time would you like to set it?’"

"Any time John, any time is fine by me."

"Well let’s meet at 6.30 for cocktails at Arnie’s."

"Cocktails it is. See you baby. Mwah."

So at 6.30 Monica was on a date but not with me.

I left the drugstore and went back outside, it sure was freezing now. I pulled down the flaps out of my hunting hat and sat back on the bench where I had started off. I thought about how I could make this whole Monica thing work to my advantage. I decided I should go to Arnie’s at about 5.30, Monica would arrive at about 6. I say about 6 but she would probably arrive dead on, she’s always an exact half hour early for dates. I don’t know why that is, but you could set your watch by it no kidding. I think she likes to have the first drink by herself, to calm herself as she’s so highly strung and all. She has no problem getting served on account of her chest, which I told you about earlier. So I would need to be there before she arrived, so it wouldn’t be too suspicious and then I could be all "Monica, who’d a thought I’d see you here?" And I’d be a gentleman and accompany her whilst she waited for her date, who’s actually a tin of tuna that never shows up, and when she feels stood up I console her and then we make out. Well that was the plan anyhow.