I now lay in a box in the attic.
The ducks have flown away from the cold pond
And the carousel does not turn anymore.
As the times change, we change along with it.
Holden does not need my assistance now.
Like other things not being used: they sit.
So I sit in the attic—all alone.
I exist as an object to be used
But I do not resent my laying here.
I know that without me, he will grow strong
With the new-found confidence in himself.
I remember his adolescent years,
He needed me most of all at that time.
My red flamboyance worked as an anchor
For his lonely individual self.
He put me on when he needed a friend.
To help, to protect, to nurture, to love
Are the duties that a friend must uphold.
And uphold I did: a good friend was I.
The help I gave also gave me purpose.
My earflaps were walls to the outside world.
In the past, these walls became very useful.
But the past died and the present lives on.
Phoebe no longer goes to primary school
And Holden grew up to be a mature man.
Some nights I hear his footsteps below me.
Sometimes he climbs the stairs of the attic
To look at his old friend: reminiscing.
His time at Pencey and his past feelings
Troubled him greatly, but not anymore.
Holden has grown and learned from his mistakes.
He has learned to love himself and others.
Adolescent years serve as a hard test
To help the adolescents find themselves.
Holden has passed these tests: absolutely.
The walls are down and he does not need me.
Hodlen does not need his red hat anymore.
I now lay in a box in the attic.
The ducks have long flown away from the pond
And the carousel does not turn anymore.