{"id":"01KG076AQ2E1C1J9GNKHM8JQF2","cid":"bafkreia4ufexvkhumje25tablmky5ydcuqdy5jk5zxzrlmecypivf5suau","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":956,"extracted_at":"2026-01-27T17:14:33.290Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 2","source_file":"01KFYTG9MG93RTB6YAW34V48XG","start_line":913,"text":" 874\tBrossard and Ackley both had seen the picture that was playing, so all we did, we\n 875\tjust had a couple of hamburgers and played the pinball machine for a little while, then\n 876\ttook the bus back to Pencey. I didn't care about not seeing the movie, anyway. It was\n 877\tsupposed to be a comedy, with Cary Grant in it, and all that crap. Besides, I'd been to the\n 878\tmovies with Brossard and Ackley before. They both laughed like hyenas at stuff that\n 879\twasn't even funny. I didn't even enjoy sitting next to them in the movies.\n 880\tIt was only about a quarter to nine when we got back to the dorm. Old Brossard\n 881\twas a bridge fiend, and he started looking around the dorm for a game. Old Ackley\n 882\tparked himself in my room, just for a change. Only, instead of sitting on the arm of\n 883\tStradlater's chair, he laid down on my bed, with his face right on my pillow and all. He\n 884\tstarted talking in this very monotonous voice, and picking at all his pimples. I dropped\n 885\tabout a thousand hints, but I couldn't get rid of him. All he did was keep talking in this\n 886\tvery monotonous voice about some babe he was supposed to have had sexual intercourse\n 887\twith the summer before. He'd already told me about it about a hundred times. Every time\n 888\the told it, it was different. One minute he'd be giving it to her in his cousin's Buick, the\n 889\tnext minute he'd be giving it to her under some boardwalk. It was all a lot of crap,\n\n\n 890\tnaturally. He was a virgin if ever I saw one. I doubt if he ever even gave anybody a feel.\n 891\tAnyway, finally I had to come right out and tell him that I had to write a composition for\n 892\tStradlater, and that he had to clear the hell out, so I could concentrate. He finally did, but\n 893\the took his time about it, as usual. After he left, I put on my pajamas and bathrobe and\n 894\tmy old hunting hat, and started writing the composition.\n 895\tThe thing was, I couldn't think of a room or a house or anything to describe the\n 896\tway Stradlater said he had to have. I'm not too crazy about describing rooms and houses\n 897\tanyway. So what I did, I wrote about my brother Allie's baseball mitt. It was a very\n 898\tdescriptive subject. It really was. My brother Allie had this left-handed fielder's mitt. He\n 899\twas left-handed. The thing that was descriptive about it, though, was that he had poems\n 900\twritten all over the fingers and the pocket and everywhere. In green ink. He wrote them\n 901\ton it so that he'd have something to read when he was in the field and nobody was up at\n 902\tbat. He's dead now. He got leukemia and died when we were up in Maine, on July 18,\n 903\t1946. You'd have liked him. He was two years younger than I was, but he was about fifty\n 904\ttimes as intelligent. He was terrifically intelligent. His teachers were always writing\n 905\tletters to my mother, telling her what a pleasure it was having a boy like Allie in their\n 906\tclass. And they weren't just shooting the crap. They really meant it. But it wasn't just that\n 907\the was the most intelligent member in the family. He was also the nicest, in lots of ways.\n 908\tHe never got mad at anybody. People with red hair are supposed to get mad very easily,\n 909\tbut Allie never did, and he had very red hair. I'll tell you what kind of red hair he had. I\n 910\tstarted playing golf when I was only ten years old. I remember once, the summer I was\n 911\taround twelve, teeing off and all, and having a hunch that if I turned around all of a\n 912\tsudden, I'd see Allie. So I did, and sure enough, he was sitting on his bike outside the\n 913\tfence--there was this fence that went all around the course--and he was sitting there,\n 914\tabout a hundred and fifty yards behind me, watching me tee off. That's the kind of red\n 915\thair he had. God, he was a nice kid, though. He used to laugh so hard at something he","title":"Chunk 2"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG07254XVK70408T0BJB63WT","peer_label":"5","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KFXT0KM64XT6K8W52TDEE0YS","peer_label":"More Classics","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"}],"ver":1,"created_at":"2026-01-27T17:14:33.916Z","ts":"2026-01-27T17:14:33.916Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}