A Perfect Day for Bananafish
1948 / J. D. Salinger
If something is good and universally acknowledged to be so, this is not reason enough to dislike it. (Side note: It has taken me all afternoon to write this sentence. My brain kept making hash of the phrase “universally acknowledged.”)
“A Trip to the Beach,” your entry for the county short-story contest, reminds me a bit of Salinger’s story. I mention this because I think you should have won first place. The first-place entry, which I believe was titled “My Grandmother’s Hands,” was much simpler both formally, narratively, and certainly emotionally than yours. Take heart, Maya. As a bookseller, I assure you that prizewinning can be somewhat important for sales but rarely matters much in terms of quality.
—A.J.F.
P.S. The thing I find most promising about your short story is that it shows empathy. Why do people do what they do? This is the hallmark of great writing.
P.P.S. If I have a criticism, perhaps it’s that you might have introduced the swimming element earlier.
P.P.P.S. Also, readers will know what an ATM card is.
A Trip to the Beach
By Maya Tamerlane Fikry
Teacher: Edward Balboni, Alicetown High School
Grade 9
Mary is running late. She has a private room, but she shares the bathroom with six other people, and it seems like someone is always using it. When she gets back from the bathroom, the babysitter is sitting on her bed. “Mary, I have been waiting for you for five minutes.”
“I’m sorry,” Mary says. “I wanted to take a shower, but I couldn’t get in.”
“It is already eleven,” the babysitter says. “You’ve only paid me to be here until noon, and I have somewhere I need to be at 12:15 p.m. So you better not be late getting back.”
Mary thanks the babysitter. She kisses the baby on the head. “Be good,” she says.
Mary runs across the campus to the English department. She runs up the stairs. Her teacher is already leaving by the time she gets there. “Mary. I was just about to leave. I didn’t think you were going to show. Please come in.”
Mary goes into the office. The teacher takes out Mary’s homework and sets it on the desk. “Mary,” the teacher says. “You used to get straight A’s, and now you are failing all of your classes.”
“I’m sorry,” Mary says. “I’ll try to do better.”
“Is something happening in your life?” the teacher asks. “You used to be one of our best students.”
“No,” Mary says. She bites her lip.
“You have a scholarship to this college. You are already in trouble because your grades have been bad for a while, and when I tell the college, they will probably end your scholarship or at least make you leave for some time.”
“Please don’t do that!” Mary begs. “I don’t have anywhere I can go. The only money I have is my scholarship money.”
“It is for your own good, Mary. You should go home and sort yourself out. Christmas is in a couple of weeks. Your parents will understand.”
Mary is fifteen minutes late getting back to the dorm. The babysitter is frowning when Mary gets there. “Mary,” the babysitter says. “You are late once again! When you’re late, it makes me late for the things I have to do. I’m sorry. I really like the baby, but I don’t think I can babysit for you anymore.”
Mary takes the baby from the babysitter. “Okay,” she says.
“Also,” the babysitter adds, “you owe me for the last three times I babysat. It’s ten dollars an hour so that’s thirty dollars.”
“Can I pay you next time?” Mary asks. “I meant to go to the automated teller machine (ATM) on my way back, but I didn’t have time.”
The babysitter makes a face. “Just put it in an envelope with my name on it and leave it at my dorm. I would really like the money before Christmas. I have presents to buy.”
Mary agrees.
“Bye, little baby,” the babysitter says. “Have a great Christmas.”
The baby coos.
“Do you two have anything special planned for the holidays?” the babysitter asks.
“I’ll probably take her to see my mom. She lives in Greenwich, Connecticut. She always has a big Christmas tree, and she makes a delicious dinner, and there will be tons of presents for me and for Myra.”
“That sounds really nice,” the babysitter says.
Mary puts the baby in the baby sling, and she walks to the bank. She checks the balance on her ATM card. She has $75.17 in her checking account. She takes out forty dollars and then she goes inside to get change.
She puts thirty dollars in an envelope with the babysitter’s name on it. She buys a token for the subway and rides to the last stop on the train. The neighborhood is not as nice as the neighborhood where Mary’s college is.
Mary walks down the street. She comes to a rundown house with a chain-link fence out front. There is a dog tied to a post in the yard. It barks at the baby, and the baby starts to cry.
“Don’t worry, baby,” Mary says. “The dog can’t get you.”
They go inside the house. The house is very dirty and there are kids everywhere. The kids are dirty, too. The kids are noisy and all different ages. Some of them are in wheelchairs or disabled.
“Hi, Mary,” a disabled girl says. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to see Mama,” Mary says.
“She is upstairs. She is not feeling well.”
“Thank you.”
“Mary, is that your baby?” the disabled girl asks.
“No,” Mary says. She bites her lip. “I’m just watching it for a friend.”
“How is Harvard?” the disabled girl asks.
“Great,” Mary says.
“Bet you got all A’s.”
Mary shrugs.
“You are so modest, Mary. Still swimming on the swim team?”
Mary shrugs again. She walks up the stairs to see Mama.