The Catcher in Africa

vsyonke

You’ll probably want to hear what happened when I went home after all that madman stuff that happened after I’d flunked out of Pencey Prep.
I had to go to into the crumby sanatorium, to take it easy. But I don’t want to bore you with my goddamn autobiography; I’m thinking for your own welfare and all.
The sanatorium was near my brother D.B, in Hollywood. He was making a lot of dough there, busy prostituting himself and all.
I had to promise my parents and the psychoanalyst that I would apply myself when I went back into school that September.
The school was filled with the same morons and goddam hotshots and phonies that were at the Elkton Hills and at Pencey.
When the school term came to an end I got to go to Africa with D.B. The picture he was writing for was being shot in South Africa, on account of it being the cheapest place for film productions.
D.B. rented a house by the beach in Port Elizabeth; he came with that English babe that was in one of the pictures he wrote.
The whole time we were there we were surrounded by those phony Hollywood bastards.
My parents weren’t thrilled about the whole idea, initially, so they had me sign up to some crumby counselling centre to attend sessions while I was there.
They let me go, because it was a good thing that I was learning about responsibility. Strictly for the birds.
I just couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there, to tell you truth. They’re nice people and all but I had to regain my sense of independence.

Port Elizabeth was a small town along the East coast of South Africa. The sessions were held an area called Central in the city.
I had to come speak to Nobomi, the founder of the Sliver of Hope support group, twice a week for an hour or so.
Where I want to start telling is that third week at the Sliver of Hope support group.
The room was filled with the regular loonies that attended those goddam counselling sessions, I felt sorry for them, I swear to God I did.
But there was this new girl there that day.
“I see we have a guest joining us” Nobomi said to the new girl. “So, we will begin with introductions, I will start.
My name is Nobomi; I started this group as a means for people who felt alone to know there are others who are in a similar position.
I was born here in Port Elizabeth; I left at a tender age for Cape Town. I got mixed up with the wrong crowd, the wrong scene.
Name it, I've done it but couldn't afford the t-shirt." she chuckled. It was a nervous chuckle, she fidgeted with the oversized t-shit which hung on her small frame.
“Don't feel any pressure to speak now, so, welcome! What's your name?”
She stood and shuffled her feet for like twenty minutes or so before stammering her name.
She had a blue dress that came to her knobby knees and red slip on shoes that matched her bag and alice band.
She had these crazy looking dreadlocks that came to her shoulders; they weren’t totally black, but with gold tinged tips.
"My name is Amanda, I'm trying to... deal,” she stammered, “with, um, a recent loss of a relative."
“We all have different ways of dealing with grief, and with support we will help you through it. All in good time.”
“If you can't get over it, get through it or under it!” quipped Ezra
She didn’t say much after that. Well, with morons like Ezra cracking jokes the whole time, no one had any chance to talk.
Ezra, who has a corny name like that anyways?

After the session Nobomi had laid out some drinks and MacDonald happy meals in the foyer.
You should have seen them scrambling out to force those happy meals down their throats. It depressed me, it really did.
I said bye to Nobomi, and that I’d see her again soon.
“Thanks for coming, Holden, I‘ll see you same time, tomorrow.” She said in this cheery voice, she always seemed in a good mood, for the two weeks or so that I’d been coming here.
The new girl in blue was alone in the hallway in front of the lift, compulsively punching in the button to summon it up to the Fourth floor.
I went up to her, “The lift won’t come any faster. The stairs are this way.” I pointed them out to her, she gave me this dirty look instead or I think it was a dirty look, maybe it’s just the way she was.
She shook her head.
Right then I started to get that feeling like I was disappearing, again, when she looked at me. It was like she looked straight through me like I wasn’t even there.
I sure wasn’t gonna ride in the same lift with her.
I ran down those stairs. Boy, I couldn’t get out of that place fast enough. I slipped on those crumby stairs while running down and damn near broke my crazy neck.
I wish I had. Broken my neck, that is. I swear I did.

I limped to the Donkin Park and found some bench infront of the pond. It reminded me of those ducks in Central Park.
They had no ducks here, but some pigeons and sea gulls that made a helluva noise, like a bunch of madmen.
I started getting that lonesome feeling again. I almost wished I was dead. That's when got this idea that I’d pack my suitcase and I’d go further East, in the Transkei, maybe.
That’s where it was natural and remote as hell. I would build myself a log cabin amongst those tall trees.
I’d find a river where I could go fishing all day, all by my damn self, and I would build myself a fire to cook the fish and for warmth.

I got hungry all of a sudden. When the girl from the centre, I just couldn’t remember her name, came and sat next to me on the bench.
I wanted to run a thousand miles in the opposite direction.
Her blue dress came just above her knees when she sat down; she had these lousy looking knees, so I looked into her face instead.
I felt like she saw through all my crap when she looked at me.
"Hi." she said. "I'm sorry about before, I was sort of distracted." She started to get up.
I got up, too, and offered to get us some snacks; we walked to the vendor at the entrance of the park.
I wondered how she’d ended up there at that crumby support group, so I asked her.
"It's a long story, actually."
"I don't mind, I got the whole day anyways. I'm not in a real rush to get to my brother's house, he'll be out shooting a film all day."
"My foster mother passed away in June. She gave me the adress for this support group, and this," she touched the chained locket on her neck.
"It has a picture of a baby and of a teenage girl. I can't seem to make the connection though."
"Are you from America?"
"Why?"
"Your accent."
"Yeah, New York."
"So what are you doing around here, are you on holiday? But you wouldn't be at the center if you were."
"My brother, DB, is here to shoot an African film. And I had to come too for my health. I had bronchitis, and the doctors said the climate would help." A lie.
She’d taken off her red shoes and put them in her bag and walked barefoot on the lush grass. She said it helped calm her and connect to nature.
"Do you miss home?"
"I sort of miss my family and all." I didn’t tell her much about it, naturally. I just didn't feel like going into my lousy childhood and all that David Copperfield kind of crap. But I missed Jane Gallagher the most. I missed how when we played checkers she would keep her kings in the back row. But she was married now.
We just sat there for the bulk of that afternoon, and just watched people go past and fed crumbs to these crazy sea gulls.
What was so terrific about it was that we could just sit and not say much and that was okay. People always have the need to fill up life with useless chatter.
For once, I felt still, almost peaceful sitting under that big, old Yellowwood tree.

"I have to go catch my bus now." she said as she stretched herself up.
"Which way you headed? The townships?"
"I'm staying at the University residence in Summerstrand."
"My brother's renting a house in the area as well."
We took the bus to the beach, and shot the bull for a while. She told me of her foster mother, and foster sisters who ran away from the home.
When we got there, she sprinted over the scorching sand and dipped her feet into the water.
“Take your shoes off, Holden, and come in.”
I did. But I regretted it; the water was as cold as hell. She kept kicking the water all over the place, wetting the edges of her dress.
You could tell she got a bang out of doing something as silly as that.
The sun dipped into the ocean and the city lights went on. We walked around until we found ourselves in the middle of a fun fair with all the rides and the crazy music playing.
It sort of reminded me of old Phoebe riding the Carousel around last Christmas.
We got on the Ferris wheel; you got this terrific view of the houses, and people at the bottom and starry sky above. They looked so small and insignificant, the houses, the people and the stars.
Each one with a purpose though, no matter how insignificant they seemed.
At that moment I felt like my lonesome life was part of the bigger picture. We sat in that big wheel, spinning around and felt like we were the only people on Earth.
We sat there in silence and spun around and around until we were dizzy with happiness.