free templates demo 005 - 麦田守望者

      Where I want to start telling is the day I left Pencey Prep. Pencey Prep is this school that's in Agerstown, Pennsylvania. You probably heard of it. You've probably seen the ads, anyway. They advertise in about a thousand magazines, always showing some hotshot guy on a horse jumping over a fence. Like as if all you ever did at Pencey was play polo all the time. I never even once saw a horse anywhere near the place.

      And underneath the guy on the horse's picture, it always says: "Since 1888 we have been molding boys into splendid, clear-thinking young men." Strictly for the birds. They don't do any damn more molding at Pencey than they do at any other school. And I didn't know anybody there that was splendid and clear-thinking and all. Maybe two guys. If that many. And they probably came to Pencey that way.

      Anyway, it was the Saturday of the football game with Saxon Hall. The game with Saxon Hall was supposed to be a very big deal around Pencey. It was the last game of the year, and you were supposed to commit suicide or something if old Pencey didn't win. I remember around three o'clock that afternoon I was standing way the hell up on top of Thomsen Hill, right next to this crazy cannon that was in the Revolutionary War and all. You could see the whole field from there, and you could see the two teams bashing each other all over the place.You couldn't see the grandstand too hot, but you could hear them all yelling, deep and terrific on the Pencey side, because practically the whole school except me was there, and scrawny and faggy on the Saxon Hall side, because the visiting team hardly ever brought many people with them.

      Where I want to start telling is the day I left Pencey Prep. Pencey Prep is this school that's in Agerstown, Pennsylvania. You probably heard of it. You've probably seen the ads, anyway. They advertise in about a thousand magazines, always showing some hotshot guy on a horse jumping over a fence. Like as if all you ever did at Pencey was play polo all the time. I never even once saw a horse anywhere near the place.

      And underneath the guy on the horse's picture, it always says: "Since 1888 we have been molding boys into splendid, clear-thinking young men." Strictly for the birds. They don't do any damn more molding at Pencey than they do at any other school. And I didn't know anybody there that was splendid and clear-thinking and all. Maybe two guys. If that many. And they probably came to Pencey that way.

      Anyway, it was the Saturday of the football game with Saxon Hall. The game with Saxon Hall was supposed to be a very big deal around Pencey. It was the last game of the year, and you were supposed to commit suicide or something if old Pencey didn't win. I remember around three o'clock that afternoon I was standing way the hell up on top of Thomsen Hill, right next to this crazy cannon that was in the Revolutionary War and all. You could see the whole field from there, and you could see the two teams bashing each other all over the place.You couldn't see the grandstand too hot, but you could hear them all yelling, deep and terrific on the Pencey side, because practically the whole school except me was there, and scrawny and faggy on the Saxon Hall side, because the visiting team hardly ever brought many people with them.

    门厅里自然黑得要命，我也自然没法开灯。我得非常小心，免得碰着什么东西，发出响声来。我确实知道自己已经到家了。我们的门厅有种奇怪的气味，跟任何别的地方都不一样。我不知道是股他妈的什么气味。既不是花的气味，也不是香水的气昧——我真不知道是股他妈的什么气味——可我确实知道自己已经到家了。我脱掉大衣，想挂在门厅的壁橱里，可壁橱里全是衣架，一开橱门就卡塔卡嗒响个不停，吓得我都不敢往里挂衣服了。接着我就慢慢地向老菲芘的房间走去，走得极慢极慢。我知道那个女佣人听不见我的声音，因为她只有一个耳鼓。她的哥哥在她小时候拿了根稻草一直戳到她耳朵里边，她有一次告诉我说。她简直是个聋子。

   可是我的父母，尤其是我母亲，耳朵尖得就象只混帐猎狗。因此我经过他们房门的时候，走得非常非常轻。我甚至都屏住了呼吸，老天爷。你可以拿把椅子砸在我父亲的脑袋上，他都不会醒来，可我母亲就不一样，你哪怕在西伯利亚咳嗽一声，她都听得见你的声音。她的神精衰弱得要命。整个晚上她有一半时间起来抽烟。

    最后，过了那么一个钟头以后，我终于走到了老菲芘的房间。可她不在。我把这事给忘了。我忘了在DB到好莱坞或者什么别的地方去的时候，菲芘总是睡在他的房间里。她喜欢这房间，因为家里就数这房间最大。还因为房间里有一张疯子用的特大书桌，是DB向费拉特费亚的某个酒鬼太太买来的，还有那张其大无比的床，总有十英里长十英里宽。我不知道这张床他是从哪里买来的。不管怎样，老菲芘就喜欢趁DB不在家的时候睡在他的房间里，他也让她睡。你真该瞧瞧她在那张混账书桌上做功课时的情景。那书桌简直就跟那张床一样大。她做功课的时候你简直连看都看不见她。可她就是喜欢这类玩艺儿。她不喜欢自己的房间，因为那房间太小，她说。她说她喜欢铺张。我听了差点儿笑死。老菲芘有什么可铺张的？什么也没有。