Four Visitors

catcher in the rye fan fiction

         I haven't really spoken to anyone in about a week. I mean, I've talked to people. But I haven't had a real conversation. The guard who brings me my food says as little as possible.

         The most exciting dialogue I've had goes as follows:

         Me: Can I have some salt with this?

        Guard: No. You can't.

        I'm serious. That's how it is here.

        The only time I've ever felt so alone was back when I was seventeen years old and my mom was missing for three days. Dad and Phoebe were off visiting D.B. and I couldn't get a hold of them.

         I'd tell you why my mom left for three days but I won't because she'd probably throw a s**t-fit. She's always touchy about her privacy and always gets so sore at me if I say too much.

         Don't get me wrong. My mom's great. I love her. Some of the stuff she says is hilarious. She kills me. But she gets all sore so easily. I can't stand it sometimes.

         So I'm stuck here alone in this goddamn max security prison because I freaked out a couple weeks ago. I have some mental problems so I freak out a lot. I haven't seen any goddamn shrink about it though because I hate having people tell me what's wrong with me. They're probably all phonies anyway. They don't even care about the patients. They just want to get paid. No one ever cares about other people. I just don't want to be around all that thoughtful nodding and 'Uh huh' and 'How do you feel about that?'. It's all bullshit.

         But when I was put in here I was told that I had to see one. I had no choice.

         When I freaked out a couple weeks ago, it really wasn't pretty. I don't even remember what brought it on. I don't really remember much when I freak out. All that I remember was that I ended up with a gun at Time Square and twelve people got killed. I don't even know them.

         The only reason I can think of why I would kill them like that is because they're phonies. I can tell if someone is a phony just by looking at them. I despise those goddamn phonies. They're all the same and they hate anyone who is different. I can go on and on about phonies and I really want to, but I'll spare you.

         I still don't know what's going to happen. All I know is that my lawyer is coming here today to discuss possibilities. I hate lawyers. They're all phonies too. They don't care about their clients going to jail. They just want to win cases so that they look good. No one ever cares about other people. I really hate lawyers.

         I don't hate them that much. My lawyer is an okay girl. She's actually an intelligent woman. It kills me that she's a woman. I always picture lawyers as men. I can't help it. She's not bad looking either. She's really not that bad. She's actually quite gorgeous. I like meeting with her because it gives me something good to look at. Women really kill me. It's not that I'm oversexed or anything. Though I am pretty sexual. I just can't help myself when it comes to pretty women. And my lawyer is quite gorgeous. It distracts me sometimes.

         The door to my solitary confinement opened and two guards stepped in. One of them is tall. He's about seven goddamn feet tall. And he has a long shaggy beard that goes all the way down to his goddamn chest. The other guard is about average height, but extremely muscular with tattoos crawling up his arms. They don't say anything. They just put me in handcuffs and lead me out of my room.

         We walked down a quiet, empty hallway and passed by many other cells until we got to one of the interview rooms with the door open.

         Lillian Simmons, my drop-dead gorgeous lawyer, was inside sitting at a table. She really could knock a guy out on account of how goddamn gorgeous she was. Everything about her was just so goddamn symmetrical. She knew it too. And she was a helluva flaunter. The way she dressed, she was practically half-naked.

         I don't mind it. It's great to look at. But it bugs the hell out of me. She always flirts with me by dressing like this for me and completely ignores my advances. I can't dress sexy for her. And I never really feel damn sexy. But I can constantly give her a looking and I can tell she notices. She sees it and she would lean far towards me and flaunt it more. I am smooth and suave like hell and she plays along, but then she would get all sore and act all cold and angry, like her wearing these skirts I can see right through and the low-cut tops that leave nothing to the imagination is my fault.

         She wears a ring on her finger but you can tell by the way she flaunts herself that she gets a bang out of me looking at her. Whatever phony that's nailing her is a goddamn lucky sonuvabitch.

        She's a helluva lawyer too. I really hate lawyers. Lawyers are okay but she really is a great lawyer. She doesn't care if you're guilty or not. Most lawyers don't care if you're guilty. But Old Lillian really sympathizes if you are. I don't know why. It really kills me. The guiltier you are, the more ready she is to defend you. She really is aces. A goddamn queen if I've ever seen one.

         "Wow, Holden! That orange jumpsuit really brings out your eyes," she said to me.

         She's always doing that. Complimenting me on how I look that day or telling me how handsome I am. Strictly for the phonies. Though it still kills me. I love it and I can't stand it.

         The two guards stood at the door ogling her with their mouths wide open. Old Lillian had to actually get up and push them out the door. Wide-eyed b******s.

         She sat down again and looked up at me, not saying anything. She likes these drawn out silences. She gets a bang out of them. I can't say anything. It's always up to her to start talking.

         I can't say anything so I give her the once over. It's what she wants. I started at the top of her head with her long, flowing blonde hair that's always let down loose. I moved down to her piercing green eyes as they stared intently into mine. I kept going to her big, red, luscious lips. They're always shocking red and wet and shiny. She really outdoes herself sometimes. It kills me.

         I kept going past her neck to the round outside curves of her breasts that were practically popping out of her shirt. She had very big knockers and she loves having people look at them. You could tell. My eyes rested on them for a few seconds. You could tell she got a bang out of that.

         My eyes traveled to her waist where I could see that her skirt was riding very low. At first glance it looks like a normal sized skirt, maybe a bit shorter than usual. But when you actually see how goddamn low she rides it, you could tell that it's really quite small.

         She was sitting in a way that doesn't even pass as decent. She held her legs slightly apart. Not in a way that would be crude, but in a way where if you looked you'd feel pretty sexy. I was starting to feel pretty sexy myself but I kept going.

         I continued moving my eyes down to her smooth, sleek legs. The kind of legs you see in those goddamn Venus commercials. Where if you dropped a piece of fabric on one, it'd slide right off.

         When I was done I looked at her all at once. She looked very amused as she motioned me to take a seat. That kills me. Even though I was facing murder charges she can still get so goddamn amused like that.

         She started talking quickly and it was hard to keep up. "So, the only way I can think of for you to get away with this is to plead insanity. It's a long shot but it’s all we've got.

         "I moved your appointment to see the psychiatrist to today. I don't know how we're going to pull this off but you're going to have to if you want to get out of here. The court date has been moved closer to next week due to the circumstances. I already took the liberty of pleading insanity for you.

         "You have to convince this psychiatrist. It's your only chance."

         That seemed easy enough. Pretend to be insane? I could do that. I think. Most people think I'm a goddamn madman anyway. It could work.

         Just then, the guard with the beard stepped inside. "You're going to have to cut this meeting short," he said, addressing Lillian. "Mr. Caulfield's got a visitor."

         "That's fine," said Lillian. "We were done anyway."

         The guard stepped out and closed the door. Lillian got up and walked over to me. I stood up to. Lillian pressed herself up against me nice and tight and started reaching her arm around me seemingly going in for a hug, but then she squeezed my goddamn a*s.

         "See you next week, Holden," she whispered in my ear.

         Just like that, she let go and pulled herself away. I watched her as she walked to the door. As she walked out the door she turned around, smiled and waved and the guard took her place by the door. He looked at me warily and stepped aside.

         That's when Jane Gallagher walked in. She was the last person I was expecting to visit me. I mean, we were best friends and everything, but I hadn't seen her in four goddamn years. I wasn't ready to see her yet. You have to be in the mood for these types of things. I really wasn't in the mood. She picked a helluva time to show up too.

         I couldn't believe it. Jane was the closest thing I've ever had to a girlfriend. Though we had never necked or anything. We had come close. But Jane just isn't one of those kinds of girls. We used to do everything together until I was sent to Pencey Prep School and she was sent to some goddamn place about one thousand miles away. She was the closest thing I've ever had to a girlfriend. We did everything together. We'd golf, hold hands, go to the movies (don't get me started about the movies). It was great. We got along great. She was about the only person in the world that I could stand.

         She is a real person. Not like those phony b******s. She really didn't care what people thought about her. And she was cute about it too. Like when we played checkers, she always kept her goddamn kings lined up in the back row. It was so cute. It killed me. I wonder if she still keeps her kings in the back row. I should ask her. But not right now. You have to be in the mood for those things.

         She wasn't really that good looking. But she was beautiful. She was short and tiny, with short blonde hair. Well, short hair for a girl. She had thin lips, big brown eyes, and a few spots of freckles. She's in shape. She's just really tiny. Seriously, I'm about ten feet taller than she is. She has small hands and her fingernails were all chewed up. She always wears clothes that are about ten thousand goddamn sizes too big for her, but in a strange way it suits her. She really was beautiful.

         A lot of people like her too. But they're all phony, self-centered b******s who just want to give her the time. She dates them but never fools around with them. She's classy like that.

         When she walked in she looked nervous as hell, like she was scared. But when she saw me her expression softened and she seemed to relax and become comfortable. She has told me that I've always had that effect on her. It actually makes me feel pretty goddamn powerful.

         So, she walked in and took Lillian's seat.

         "How you doing, Holden?" she said softly.

         I didn't feel like talking. You especially had to be in the mood to talk to Jane. But my mouth took over and words flew out before I could even think about them.

         "For Chrissake Jane, it's great to see you. How the hell are you? I've been thinking about you a lot lately. I seriously can't get you out of my goddamn head. I've really missed you. We should see each other more often. What the hell are you doing here anyway?"

         Jane laughed but I didn't see what was so goddamn funny. I laughed too. It felt just like old times.

         "Same old Holden," she said warmly, taking my hand. Her voice suddenly changed to worry. "How did you get yourself into this mess, baby?"

         "You should've seen it. All those goddamn phonies in the same place all at once. I couldn't help it. For Chrissake Jane, you know how I get."

         "Yeah, I know. But now you have to deal with it. You can't just shoot them."

         She was right, of course. She's so smart like that. I love her. I swear I do. And I told her too.

         "Jesus Christ, Jane. I love you so much."

         "I know, baby. It's okay."

         Then I got an idea.

         "Hey Jane, listen. Why don't we get out of here? We can run far away and go into hiding. We can change our names and I could get a job at a bowling alley or some s**t. We could even eventually get married. Come on. What do you say?"

         "I think that would be swell, Holden. I really do. But you're being held in a maximum security prison. You're being charged for murders. It's too dangerous, baby."

         "I know, but listen..." I started again as I took off into a rant.

         I really had no idea what I was saying. I'm a madman, I swear. I could talk for hours and afterwards I'd have no goddamn clue about anything that I just said. I do it usually when I'm bullshitting people, which is most of the time. I'm a professional at bullshit. But I wasn't doing it now. Everything I said to Jane, I meant. I never do that with her.

         I suddenly realized that I had finished talking because Jane started talking again.

         "Listen, Holden. Can you do something for me?"

         "Anything for you, Jane," I replied.

         Seriously, I love her that much.

         "I'm only asking you to do this because I don't want you or anyone else to get hurt."

         "Sure. What is it?"

         There was a brief pause. "Can you tell the truth? To whoever you have to. Cops, lawyers, whatever. Can you do that for me? I'm so worried about you and I just want you to be safe wherever you end up."

         "Sure thing. Whatever you say, Jane. You know I love you."

         Jane smiled. But this smile was different. It had a sense of sadness and longing.

         "I love you too, Holden. You know that. I always will. But you're here. And I'm out there. I'll visit you when I can. But I can't wait for you. I don't know how long you're going to be in here. I don't even know how often I'm going to actually visit you. It can't be that often. I have to live my life. I don't even know if I'm going to be allowed to visit you again."

         A tear began to silently slip from her eye down her face. I can't stand when people cry. It makes me so goddamn depressed. I could hardly manage to keep myself together. I would've done anything to stop Jane from crying at that moment.

         "Holden, you're crying." The softness of Jane's voice surprised me.

         "I am? No, wait. You're crying."

         She touched her hand to her face. "Oh. Wow. Sorry. I didn't realize." There was a brief silence. "But seriously, baby, you're pouring."

         I wiped the tears from my eyes. I would've done anything to stop Jane from crying at that moment.

         "Can I kiss you?" I asked her.

         She stopped wiping her face and smiled. It killed me. I can get her to stop crying just like that.

         "Where exactly are you planning to kiss me?"

         She asked me this because the closest we've ever come to actually necking was a few years back. Her step-dad was drunk and insulting her and I was there. When her step-dad walked away she started crying. I didn't know what to do so I tried kissing her. I kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids; everywhere but her lips. Every time my lips got close to hers she'd move her face so that I was kissing somewhere else.

         "I was thinking I'd try the lips," I said to her.

         She looked at me thoughtfully. "I'm not so sure about that," she replied.

         "Come on. Don't you love me? I don't know when I'm going to see you again."

         "I don't know. I do love you, Holden. I just don't know if I'd be comfortable just yet."

         I looked away. "Whatever. I guess it's fine. It's your right whether you want to or not. I just thought-"

         I couldn't finish my sentence because I was cut off unexpectedly by her tongue rolling around in my mouth. I barely had enough time to register to kiss her back before she pulled away. Overall, the kiss only lasted about five seconds. But it lingered on my lips and in my mouth. The taste of her lips making me yearn for more. I couldn't say anything anymore. The kiss had rendered me speechless.

         Jane stood up. "I better go," she said softly.

         I had managed to regurgitate my tongue long enough to say one word. "Right." I was surprised by how clear my voice was.

         "I'll see you again. Maybe."

         And with a smile she was gone. Just like that.

         After she left the guard came in and took me back to my cell. Before he left I asked him to slit my throat. I was depressed as hell after seeing Jane. I really felt like dying. Though, it was nice of her to come. It was really great to see her. I wish she didn't have to leave.

         After I asked the guard to kill me he laughed in my face and slammed the goddamn door. That guard is such a phony b*****d. I really felt like killing him.

         There really wasn't anything to do in my cell. All it had inside was a dirty toilet and a goddamn cot with lumps in it that felt like concrete. Sleeping was about the only thing I could do. But the bed almost made it not worth it. But I was feeling exhausted after having to deal with Old Lillian and Jane. Dealing with people takes a lot of effort out of me. I enjoy being alone. I do actually enjoy being in my cell except for the fact that it's so goddamn dirty and uncomfortable. So I decided to sleep.

         When I was sleeping I remember having a dream but I don't remember what the dream was about. I hate that feeling. It's like a bad memory in every way. But it drives you insane because it feels like it was yesterday.

         I was woken up by a different guard. I was too tired to recognize him.

         He was accompanied by a man in a gray suit. This man was different. I don't think I had ever met him before. He was strange. Something about him just wasn't right. I hadn't noticed him at first. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. The way he looked was different from anyone I've ever seen. He had a face you could easily forget. The kind of face you look over unnoticed in a crowd. I couldn't even remember it for a second when I looked away. It's like every time I see his face it feels like I'm noticing him for the first time. When I close my eyes and think about him I see a man with no face.

         Maybe I have met him before. Maybe I've just forgotten him. Maybe I've met him numerous times and haven't realized it. Maybe every time I see him it's like meeting him for the first time again.

         I didn't know how to react to this man. He was very intimidating. I felt terrified. It took me a while to realize he was talking. But I couldn't understand what he was saying. His voice was muffled as if he was speaking behind closed doors. I managed to catch the odd word. I heard him say questions, determine, and insanity. I'm not necessarily sure when he said them or in what context, but he did say them.

         An idea popped into my head the next instant. Was this gray man my goddamn psychiatrist? The words slowly formed into the inevitable sentence that the man with no face had spoken.

         I am going to ask you a few questions to determine whether I can prove or disprove your possible plea of insanity.

         I didn't know how I was able to form this sentence, but I knew that this is what the man to forget had said. Maybe somehow my subconscious heard him and put it together for me.

         The next second, these details didn't matter because I was speaking without realizing it. My lips moved and the words formed, but there was something wrong. It wasn't me talking. It was like someone was using my voice to speak through me. I had no goddamn idea what I was saying. It's not like when I'm bullshitting and I'm not realizing what I am saying. It's more like a different part of me was speaking. Inside my mind I was still the same me that I knew. But the voice speaking was a part of me that never surfaces on the outside.

         The only conclusion I could come up with was that my subconscious has taken over my body and I was trapped in my mind.

         There was a brief silence.

         Suddenly, my subconscious was speaking to me.

         The reality of this situation is far more complicated than you can understand on your own. You are insane, Holden Caulfield. The complications start with me, your subconscious. I am the cause of your insanity. I am a small part of you that escapes at the right times. I take control and do the things that you're too afraid to do. I take your dreams and desires into action. Your thoughts have always been there but I am forever a part of them.

         You must understand why it is necessary that I have complete control right now. You promised Jane to tell the truth. But the truth cannot get through without me. I am the reason why you are where you are in this point of your life. And now I have to help you keep your promise to Jane. I am the only one who can convince the gray man of your insanity.

         Jane wants you to be safe. You can only be safe while under constant supervision and observation of your every action. And this can be provided at a psychiatric hospital. You must spend the rest of your life in one. It is the only way to remain safe.

         I have inadvertently brought you insanity and now I must save you. The only way I can save you is to prove your insanity. There is no other way.

Author's Note

this was actually for a school assignment but I kind of got carried away with it. Some of the facts from the actual novel might be a little off.

Reviews

[Kelsey Desmond]

Much voice in this piece. It also has an interesting story-line. To be honest, it's not my favorite piece, but it is quite good. It caught my attention. Well done.

Thank you very much for submitting this.
--Kels