J.D. Salinger - Nine Stories

Nine Stories

writtenby:

J.D. Salenger

Tableof Contents

A PerfectDay for Bananafish

THEREWERE ninety-seven New York advertising men in the hotel, and, the waythey were monopolizing the long-distance lines, the girl in 507 hadto wait from noon till almost two-thirty to get her call through. Sheused the time, though. She read an article in a women's pocket-sizemagazine, called "Sex Is Fun-or Hell." She washed her comband brush. She took the spot out of the skirt of her beige suit. Shemoved the button on her Saks blouse. She tweezed out two freshlysurfaced hairs in her mole. When the operator finally rang her room,she was sitting on the window seat and had almost finished puttinglacquer on the nails of her left hand.

Shewas a girl who for a ringing phone dropped exactly nothing. Shelooked as if her phone had been ringing continually ever since shehad reached puberty.

Withher little lacquer brush, while the phone was ringing, she went overthe nail of her little finger, accentuating the line of the moon. Shethen replaced the cap on the bottle of lacquer and, standing up,passed her left--the wet--hand back and forth through the air. Withher dry hand, she picked up a congested ashtray from the window seatand carried it with her over to the night table, on which the phonestood. She sat down on one of the made-up twin beds and--it was thefifth or sixth ring--picked up the phone.

"Hello,"she said, keeping the fingers of her left hand outstretched and awayfrom her white silk dressing gown, which was all that she waswearing, except mules--her rings were in the bathroom.

"Ihave your call to New York now, Mrs. Glass," the operator said.

"Thankyou," said the girl, and made room on the night table for theashtray.

Awoman's voice came through. "Muriel? Is that you?"

Thegirl turned the receiver slightly away from her ear. "Yes,Mother. How are you?" she said.

"I'vebeen worried to death about you. Why haven't you phoned? Are you allright?"

"Itried to get you last night and the night before. The phone here'sbeen--"

"Areyou all right, Muriel?"

Thegirl increased the angle between the receiver and her ear. "I'mfine. I'm hot. This is the hottest day they've had in Florida in--"

"Whyhaven't you called me? I've been worried to--"

"Mother,darling, don't yell at me. I can hear you beautifully," said thegirl. "I called you twice last night. Once just after--"

"Itold your father you'd probably call last night. But, no, he hadto-Are you all right, Muriel? Tell me the truth."

"I'mfine. Stop asking me that, please."

"Whendid you get there?"

"Idon't know. Wednesday morning, early."

"Whodrove?"

"Hedid," said the girl. "And don't get excited. He drove verynicely. I was amazed."

"Hedrove? Muriel, you gave me your word of--"

"Mother,"the girl interrupted, "I just told you. He drove very nicely.Under fifty the whole way, as a matter of fact."

"Didhe try any of that funny business with the trees?"

"Isaid he drove very nicely, Mother. Now, please. I asked him to stayclose to the white line, and all, and he knew what I meant, and hedid. He was even trying not to look at the trees-you could tell. DidDaddy get the car fixed, incidentally?"

"Notyet. They want four hundred dollars, just to--"

"Mother,Seymour told Daddy that he'd pay for it. There's no reason for--"

"Well,we'll see. How did he behave--in the car and all?"

"Allright," said the girl.

"Didhe keep calling you that awful--"

"No.He has something new now."

"What?"

"Oh,what's the difference, Mother?"

"Muriel,I want to know. Your father--"

"Allright, all right. He calls me Miss Spiritual Tramp of 1948," thegirl said, and giggled.

"Itisn't funny, Muriel. It isn't funny at all. It's horrible. It's sad,actually. When I think how--"

"Mother,"the girl interrupted, "listen to me. You remember that book hesent me from Germany? You know--those German poems. What'd I do withit? I've been racking my--"

"Youhave it."

"Areyou sure?" said the girl.

"Certainly.That is, I have it. It's in Freddy's room. You left it here and Ididn't have room for it in the--Why? Does he want it?"

"No.Only, he asked me about it, when we were driving down. He wanted toknow if I'd read it."

"Itwas in German!"

"Yes,dear. That doesn't make any difference," said the girl, crossingher legs. "He said that the poems happen to be written by theonly great poet of the century. He said I should've bought atranslation or something. Or learned the language, if you please."

"Awful.Awful. It's sad, actually, is what it is. Your father said lastnight--"

"Justa second, Mother," the girl said. She went over to the windowseat for her cigarettes, lit one, and returned to her seat on thebed. "Mother?" she said, exhaling smoke.

"Muriel.Now, listen to me."

"I'mlistening."

"Yourfather talked to Dr. Sivetski."

"Oh?"said the girl.

"Hetold him everything. At least, he said he did--you know your father.The trees. That business with the window. Those horrible things hesaid to Granny about her plans for passing away. What he did with allthose lovely pictures from Bermuda--everything."

"Well?"said the girl.

"Well.In the first place, he said it was a perfect crime the Army releasedhim from the hospital--my word of honor. He very definitely told yourfather there's a chance--a very great chance, he said--that Seymourmay completely lose control of himself. My word of honor."

"There'sa psychiatrist here at the hotel," said the girl.

"Who?What's his name?"

"Idon't know. Rieser or something. He's supposed to be very good."

"Neverheard of him."

"Well,he's supposed to be very good, anyway."

"Muriel,don't be fresh, please. We're very worried about you. Your fatherwanted to wire you last night to come home, as a matter of f--"

"I'mnot coming home right now, Mother. So relax."

"Muriel.My word of honor. Dr. Sivetski said Seymour may completely losecontr--"

"Ijust got here, Mother. This is the first vacation I've had in years,and I'm not going to just pack everything and come home," saidthe girl. "I couldn't travel now anyway. I'm so sunburned I canhardly move."

"You'rebadly sunburned? Didn't you use that jar of Bronze I put in your bag?I put it right--"

"Iused it. I'm burned anyway."

"That'sterrible. Where are you burned?"

"Allover, dear, all over."

"That'sterrible."

"I'lllive."

"Tellme, did you talk to this psychiatrist?"

"Well,sort of," said the girl.

"What'dhe say? Where was Seymour when you talked to him?"

"Inthe Ocean Room, playing the piano. He's played the piano both nightswe've been here."

"Well,what'd he say?"

"Oh,nothing much. He spoke to me first. I was sitting next to him atBingo last night, and he asked me if that wasn't my husband playingthe piano in the other room. I said yes, it was, and he asked me ifSeymour's been sick or something. So I said--"

"Why'dhe ask that?"

"Idon't know, Mother. I guess because he's so pale and all," saidthe girl. "Anyway, after Bingo he and his wife asked me if Iwouldn't like to join them for a drink. So I did. His wife washorrible. You remember that awful dinner dress we saw in Bonwit'swindow? The one you said you'd have to have a tiny, tiny--"