{"id":8383,"date":"2025-09-26T16:04:25","date_gmt":"2025-09-26T06:04:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/oxley-college\/?post_type=article&p=8383"},"modified":"2025-09-26T16:04:25","modified_gmt":"2025-09-26T06:04:25","slug":"how-the-catcher-in-the-rye-should-have-ended","status":"publish","type":"article","link":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/oxley-college\/article\/how-the-catcher-in-the-rye-should-have-ended\/","title":{"rendered":"How ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ should have ended"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

This term, Year 10 English students have been studying J.D. Salinger’s ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and exploring how the novel reflects the complicated American post-war context through the lens of the deeply flawed protagonist, Holden Caulfield. Students were tasked with penning an additional chapter to the text; the results are testament to their thoughtful engagement with the unit and developing creative writing skills. <\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ve been out of the place for a couple weeks now. They said I was \u201crested enough,\u201d whatever the hell that\u2019s supposed to mean. It\u2019s fall now, and I\u2019m supposed to go back to school, to this crumby new joint my parents picked out. They think a fresh start\u2019ll do me good. They\u2019re always thinking that sort of thing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I finally bumped into old Jane; I was sitting in the park reading one of those corny new magazines. If you want to know the truth, I just felt like being outside for a while.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was just looking around and there she was: horsing around with her hot-shot friend. I figured I was hallucinating or something, I swear to God I thought I was dreaming. Sleeping\u2019s a pain in the ass after coming out of that dump. But then she looked at me, caught me staring at her and her corny friend. For a minute there, I figured she\u2019d be all weirded out, but she wasn\u2019t. A kind of fat smile spread across her face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I watched old Jane whisper something to her friend, and then the friend shot me the kind of dirty look you\u2019d expect If I\u2019d just slapped her mother or something. Then the broad sprinted off to the playground like she was late for recess or something. I didn\u2019t even bother to feel pissed off, which, I guess means I\u2019m getting a little better at dealing with crap like that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jane then starts walking my way, like she wasn\u2019t in a hurry or anything. She looked pretty good, if you want to know the truth. She had her hair all tied back in some kind of bun thing, wearing this brown trench coat like she was trying to look all fashionable or something. I gotta say, she didn\u2019t look half bad, not that I really give a damn about fashion or any of that crap. Still, it was enough to catch your eye if you weren\u2019t totally out of it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She knew I was looking at her, not that she was cocky or anything, but she knew she looked good. You could tell, even if she tried not to care. It\u2019s funny how people act like they don\u2019t care when they really do.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I opened my mouth to say something, but to be honest, I didn\u2019t have a clue what I was gonna say. Before I could even get a word out, she just threw herself down on the bench next to me and wrapped her arms around my neck like it was no big deal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I wouldn\u2019t say this to just anybody, but for a minute there, when old Jane had her arms wrapped around me like she was sucking the oxygen right out of my lungs, it actually felt pretty nice. Like all the lousy crap in the world just kind of disappeared for a while.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After what felt like a whole goddam year, Jane finally pulled away, that same big, goofy smile still plastered on her face. \u201cMy parents wanted to head back down to Maine for the fall,\u201d she said, \u201cbut I figured we hadn\u2019t been to the city in a while.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I don\u2019t know, it killed me, her saying that. Like maybe she actually missed this crummy city, or maybe she just missed me. I wasn\u2019t about to ask, though. That\u2019s the kind of thing you don\u2019t ask if you don\u2019t want it screwed up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I tried to say something again, but the talkative broad just wouldn\u2019t let me get a word in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI heard about Pencey,\u201d she said. \u201cYour stupid friend Stradlater told me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I could feel my face turning red like some goddam kid. It figures old Stradlater would run his mouth after the brawl, probably made it sound like I got kicked out for setting the place on fire or something. The bastard had this way of making everything sound worse, especially when it came to people like Jane. I don\u2019t know, I got this lousy feeling maybe he\u2019d said something to her he shouldn\u2019t have, the way she said it. And the worst part is, I couldn\u2019t even ask.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have to look like that,\u201d Jane said, tilting her head at me a little. \u201cI\u2019m not mad or anything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I swear to God, that kind of thing always kills me, when people act like you\u2019re about to turn psycho or something. I wasn\u2019t even sure what kind of face I was making, but I could feel it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah? Well, I sort of figured Stradlater would say something crumby,\u201d I said. I tried to play it off as a joke, but it came out all stiff.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She shrugged, \u201cHe\u2019s a real moron. Always was.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I swear, hearing her say that nearly knocked me over. Old Jane, calling Stradlater a moron, that\u2019s the kind of thing you don\u2019t forget.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah,\u201d I said. \u201cHe is. A real royal pain.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She gave me this soft laugh, the kind you don\u2019t really hear much. It was like she meant it, like she actually found it funny.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe said you got kicked out again,\u201d she said. \u201cI figured; I don\u2019t know. That you\u2019d be around.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I could\u2019ve said a hundred things right then, a hundred goddam things. But I didn\u2019t. Instead, I just said, \u201cI\u2019m around.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And for once, it didn\u2019t feel like I was lying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She didn\u2019t say anything for a moment. Just sat there, fiddling with hair. I watched her for a second, not in a creepy way or anything, just watching.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThere\u2019s something different about you Holden,\u201d she said, soft.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I almost shot back with some comment. That would\u2019ve been the old me, the real hot-shot. But instead, I just sort of smiled, a real one this time, I think. I could tell she meant it in a soft way. \u201cYeah. I think I guess there is.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She smiled back, and for once, I didn\u2019t feel like I had to explain myself or act like a goddamn fool. We just sat there, not talking much. And it wasn\u2019t phony or anything at all. It felt\u2026 Nice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When she finally stood up, wrapping her coat closer to her chest, she said, \u201cI\u2019ll see you around, Holden.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah. I\u2019ll see you,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maybe I would. And maybe I wouldn\u2019t. But this time, it didn\u2019t scare the hell out of me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sofia B, Year 10<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

It was starting to get pretty cold out, but Luce wasn\u2019t going to show for another goddam half hour. I didn\u2019t want to go into the bar yet – I\u2019d rather stay out of that pretentious place as long as possible – but there were barely any other open joints around, and I had to get out of the goddam arctic. The only place was this sad second-hand bookshop on the corner of 54th. The roof was sagging and there was tape across the windows – you\u2019d swear the thing was about to crumble – but it was better than the lousy street, so I went in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As soon as I did, I wished I hadn\u2019t. I\u2019d never been hit with such a depressing smell in my life; old crummy paper and cheap candles. I damn near beat it the hell out of there, to tell you the truth, but I\u2019d already sounded the bells on the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Come in.\u2019 A lady at the counter was labelling books, or doing whatever the hell else you do at a bookshop, about in her late thirties, I\u2019d say. But her face said it all – you\u2019d think she hadn\u2019t slept since last Christmas, for chrissake. She didn\u2019t even look up, just kept sticking labels on books. Gotta feed the family, I guess. But hell, what a depressing job.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 \u2018You got any children\u2019s literature? \u201cThe Secret Garden\u201d or something?\u2019 I was partly asking for Phoebe, but mostly just trying to make the lady feel like she had business. You\u2019d do the same, if you knew how depressing it felt in there. You really would.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The lady shrugged. \u2018Dunno. We just stock what we find. We\u2019re second hand, kid.\u2019 Boy, somebody <\/em>wasn\u2019t in the mood to chat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I tried browsing a bit, pretending to look for the book, but I wasn\u2019t sure what the cover looked like. I\u2019d only seen it once – this little girl on the train, splendid pink dress and all, was grinning while reading it. Guess it left a good impression on me. But judging by the dusty shelves that damn near choked me, I doubted I\u2019d find it here.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I must admit, I was sort of in the mood to chew the fat a bit, so I asked, \u2018You ever read that stuff you\u2019re labelling?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Only when I forget what boredom feels like,\u2019 the lady replied. I smirked – she was witty, she really was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018So you\u2019re not a reader?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018I didn\u2019t say that. I read. Just not the nonsense in this dump.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Right.\u2019 I wished I hadn\u2019t started the conversation then, because that only made me feel more depressed. She knew how crummy the place was and still <\/em>came back every day. \u2018So you never thought about leaving your job, then?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lady shrugged. \u2018I used to. Thought I\u2019d do something else, but time kept passing. Now, guess this is<\/em> my \u201csomething else\u201d.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018But why stay here if it\u2019s such a dump?\u2019 That got her to stop her goddamn labelling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Kid, it\u2019s just different books on the same shelves. Leaving doesn\u2019t mean you\u2019ll find better – just more of the same. So it\u2019s easier to stay.\u2019 I was confused then – don\u2019t get me wrong, hearing that was miserable – but at least she wasn\u2019t pretending to love her job or any of that crap like those lousy Pencey parents. God, they were such phonies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018It is what is is. Worse jobs exist,\u2019 she continued. You had to admire her optimism; I could hardly work a day in her job without becoming suicidal. At least she just accepted it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Anyway kid, you here for anything, or just hanging around hoping for a floor show?\u2019 She was forward, that lady. She really was. Maybe she managed that dull job without going nuts by keeping herself entertained with customers like me. Finding control in her little book-stamping routine and all. I wasn\u2019t sure I could live that way, but I saw her logic.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018No, sorry. Actually, I\u2019d better go,\u2019 I said, glancing at my wristwatch. Damn it.<\/em> I was due to meet Luce five minutes ago.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was halfway out the door, when I stopped and looked back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Hey. You ever know where those ducks at the lagoon go in winter? When the lake\u2019s frozen over and all?\u2019 I only asked because she had more wits than any of those damn taxi drivers; maybe she had a clue. But she just screwed up her eyebrows like I\u2019d asked if books could bleed or something. Most people do that when I ask them damn near anything – hell, I don\u2019t even know why I cared about those stupid ducks.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 \u2018I always thought they just stayed in the park and stood the cold. Waited it out till spring.\u2019 She said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018But wouldn\u2019t you see them if they were just hanging around waiting?\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2018Well, I don\u2019t know, but they always return, don\u2019t they? Look kid, some things we don\u2019t know. We won\u2019t find out. Best to accept that, rather than chase answers we won\u2019t find.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I shrugged, sceptical but intrigued. I almost wanted to stick around, hear more of that lady\u2019s cryptic crap. But Luce was waiting, so I said thanks and left. She was weird, that lady, she really was. But damn clever too. Her whole philosophy about \u2018staying\u2019 and all sounded clich\u00e9, but maybe there was something to it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Matilda L, Year 10<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

I left the hotel in a rush that morning. I just had to get out of there. I looked around at the crowd of the street. A hive of bustling people, each caught up in their own flimsy problems. An old man waddled along with a walking stick, ignoring the queue gathering up behind his slow steps. A girl, looking all posh and everything, out of place the rowdiness of the street, prancing around like she owned the place. A small boy, with a red beanie covering his hair, hidden amongst the crowd. I stopped, right there in the middle of the path, with people pushing against me from all over, staring at him. For some reason, this kid remined me of my brother Allie. He was walking ahead of me, making a tunnel through the swarm of people. I swear, I don\u2019t know why, but I followed the boy, right down the street, even though I had already been that way. I kept behind him for a while, but I didn\u2019t speak. He was alone, just like me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I don\u2019t know how long I was chasing after him for. I wasn\u2019t aware of anything around us, heck, I could have walked right out of New York, and I wouldn\u2019t have noticed as long as that goddamn kid stayed in front of me. As I followed, I heard the boy humming a tune. I don\u2019t know what it was, but it sure did sound familiar.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

 After a while, the kid stopped. Looking around, I realised where we were. The lake in Central Park South was pretty quiet at the time, just me, the boy, and a few other people, lost in their own worlds. The ice of the lake was clouded and foggy. I looked for some sign of fish, like that taxi driver said, but I couldn\u2019t see anything. The kid turned and looked at me. It kind of shocked me how confident he was. He didn\u2019t shy away or lose interest, just stared me down like I was some mysterious alien from outer space. I didn\u2019t really know what to do, if I\u2019m being deadly honest. How often is it that you see a kid that looks exactly like your dead brother?  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHey, look here kid, I\u2019ve got a question for you\u201d As I spoke, the boy turned finally turned away from me, his eyes settling on the lake in front of us. It\u2019s not like a kid this young would know, but it was worth a shot, I thought. \u201cWhere do you think the ducks go in the winter?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

He turned to me, confused. \u201cWhat ducks?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou know, the ones in the lake in the summer.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh.\u201d He sat for a moment, all thoughtful and everything, on that stupid bench, which was getting colder by the minute. \u201cDon\u2019t you know? They fly away. Down south, where its warmer.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was surprised. The first person to give me an answer to this goddamn question was a kid, no more than ten years old. Of all the people in the world, of course it had to be a goddamn kid.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAll of them?\u201d I asked. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI guess so\u201d he said, returning his attention to the water. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

We sat like that for a while, just two people on a bench. It was kind of nice, I guess. They\u2019re funny, kids. Pulling your leg or acting like everything\u2019s the end of the world or something. They kill me, usually. But not this one. This one was different. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut what if one of them can\u2019t? What if it can\u2019t fly away from the winter?\u201d I said. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat do you mean? They can all fly. They\u2019re ducks\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, not this one. It\u2019s still a duck, but it can\u2019t fly. What the hell is it supposed to do? Just stagger on its feet, all the way down south, while the others are flying way above it?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know!\u201d The kid threw his arms up in the air, something Allie would do. \u201cI guess it just has to learn.\u201d He stood up, satisfied with his answer. \u201cI have to go. See you around then.\u201d He waved as he skipped down the path, away from the lake. He really was just a goddamn kid after all. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah. See you.\u201d I called out behind him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I sat there the rest of the day, till my fingers got numb and the red hunting hat was coated in frost. With a pang in my stomach, I got up and staggered, half-frozen, back to the hotel. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Louisa HB, Year 10<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This term, Year 10 English students have been studying J.D. Salinger’s ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and exploring how the novel reflects the complicated American post-war context through the lens of the deeply flawed protagonist, Holden Caulfield. Students were tasked with penning an additional chapter to the text; the results are testament to their thoughtful […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":8384,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","article_category":[18],"article_tag":[],"class_list":["post-8383","article","type-article","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","article_category-inspiration"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/oxley-college\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/article\/8383","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/oxley-college\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/article"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/oxley-college\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/article"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/oxley-college\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8383"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/oxley-college\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/8384"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/oxley-college\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8383"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"article_category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/oxley-college\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/article_category?post=8383"},{"taxonomy":"article_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.thebuzz.net.au\/oxley-college\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/article_tag?post=8383"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}