Where do the Ducks Go?

A Wintertime excerpt from The Catcher in the Rye, Chapter 12, to connect us, as the ponds and Rivers around Brattleboro are now frozen, and some souls may gently wonder where all of the ducks have gone.


The cab I had was a real old one that smelled like someone’d just tossed his cookies in it. I always get those vomity kind of cabs if I go anywhere late at night. What made it worse, it was so quiet and lonesome out, even though it was Saturday night. I didn’t see hardly anybody on the street. Now and then you just saw a man and a girl crossing a street, with their arms around each other’s waists and all, or a bunch of hoodlumy-looking guys and their dates, all of them laughing like hyenas at something you could bet wasn’t funny. New York’s terrible when somebody laughs on the street very late at night. You can hear it for miles. It makes you feel so lonesome and depressed. I kept wishing I could go home and shoot the bull for a while with old Phoebe. But finally, after I was riding a while, the cab driver and I sort of struck up a conversation. His name was Horwitz. He was a much better guy than the other driver I’d had. Anyway, I thought maybe he might know about the ducks.

Hey, Horwitz,” I said. “You ever pass by the lagoon in Central Park? Down by Central Park South?

The what?

The lagoon. That little lake, like, there. Where the ducks are. You know.

Yeah, what about it?

Well, you know the ducks that swim around in it? In the springtime and all? Do you happen to know where they go in the wintertime, by any chance?

Where who goes?

The ducks. Do you know, by any chance? I mean does somebody come around in a truck or something and take them away, or do they fly away by themselves–go south or something?

Old Horwitz turned all the way around and looked at me. He was a very impatient-type guy. He wasn’t a bad guy, though. “How the hell should I know?” he said. “How the hell should I know a stupid thing like that?

Well, don’t get sore about it,” I said. He was sore about it or something.

Who’s sore? Nobody’s sore.

I stopped having a conversation with him, if he was going to get so damn touchy about it. But he started it up again himself. He turned all the way around again, and said, “The fish don’t go no place. They stay right where they are, the fish. Right in the goddam lake.

The fish–that’s different. The fish is different. I’m talking about the ducks,” I said.

What’s different about it? Nothin’s different about it,” Horwitz said. Everything he said, he sounded sore about something. “It’s tougher for the fish, the winter and all, than it is for the ducks, for Chrissake. Use your head, for Chrissake.

I didn’t say anything for about a minute. Then I said, “All right. What do they do, the fish and all, when that whole little lake’s a solid block of ice, people skating on it and all?
Old Horwitz turned around again. “What the hellaya mean what do they do?” he yelled at me. “They stay right where they are, for Chrissake.

They can’t just ignore the ice. They can’t just ignore it.

Who’s ignoring it? Nobody’s ignoring it!” Horwitz said. He got so damn excited and all, I was afraid he was going to drive the cab right into a lamppost or something. “They live right in the goddam ice. It’s their nature, for Chrissake. They get frozen right in one position for the whole winter.

Yeah? What do they eat, then? I mean if they’re frozen solid, they can’t swim around looking for food and all.

Their bodies, for Chrissake–what’sa matter with ya? Their bodies take in nutrition and all, right through the goddam seaweed and crap that’s in the ice. They got their pores open the whole time. That’s their nature, for Chrissake. See what I mean?” He turned way the hell around again to look at me.

Oh,” I said. I let it drop. I was afraid he was going to crack the damn taxi up or something.

Besides, he was such a touchy guy, it wasn’t any pleasure discussing anything with him.

Would you care to stop off and have a drink with me somewhere?” I said.

He didn’t answer me, though. I guess he was still thinking. I asked him again, though. He was a pretty good guy. Quite amusing and all.


Love, Angel

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