Rewrite the ending of the story.
Anyway, I really did go home after the carrousel. First, Phoebe and I walked out of the park onto the east side, and took the bus to Grand Central, to get my goddam Gladstones out of the strong box there. pretty Though it had stopped pouring out, I was still wet. Boy, it really came down like a madman. I still had Phoebe's red hunting hat on, it was soaking wet though. I didn't care. All I could think about Phoebe. Just Phoebe.
"I'm glad we're both going home now, Holden", she said.
"I'm just ready to get this over with", I said, "Mom and dad will cry and yell their heads off. Just leave when it happens."
"Don't worry, Holden. It'll be okay", Phoebe said. She squeezed my hand she was holding my hand and smiled the cutest smile at me. It just about killed me.
We walked into the huge lobby in Grand Central. As we walked over to where the lockers were, we passed the bench where I'd sort of slept for a few hours after I had to leave Mr. Antolini's. I'd never tell Phoebe about it, of course. It seemed like so long ago, but it was actually just this morning. That goddam stunt he pulled on me almost made me puke though. To hell with him.
We just had spent most of Phoebe's Christmas dough, so we got my Gladstones, and took the Madison Avenue bus to 72nd street. There were a bunch of kids around Phoebe's age in the back of the bus. They were all horsing around, laughing like madmen at something. We sat next to them, on those three seats between the back door and the back row. We took up a lot of room, since we had my two suitcases, plus my old suitcase with old Phoebe's stuff in it.
I heard some kid say, "Phoebe, your brother found you!" I looked across the bus. It was that little girl I met in the park yesterday, whose roller skates I'd tightened and all, that I told you about. I guess she and Phoebe were friends, because they immediately started talking and laughing...