Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Laredo border in Dilley, Texas, I was standing on the hot road
underneath an arc-lamp with the summer moths smashing into it when heard
the sound of footsteps from the darkness beyond and lo, a tall old man
with flowing white hair came clomping by with a pack on his back, and
when he saw me as he passed, he said “Go moan for man” and clomped on
back to his dark. Did this mean that I should at last go on my
pilgrimage on foot on the dark roads around America? I struggled and
hurried to NY, and one night I was standing in a dark street in
Manhattan and called up to the window of a loft where I thought my
friends were having a party. But a pretty girl stuck her head out of the
window and said “Yes? Who is it?” “Jack Kerouac” I said, and heard my
name resound in the sad and empty street. “Come on up” she called “I’m
making hot chocolate.” So I went up and there she was, the girl with the
pure and innocent dear eyes that I had always searched for and for so
long. That night I asked her to marry me and she accepted and agreed.
Five days later we were married. Then in the winter we planned to
migrate to San Francisco bringing all our beat furnitures and broken
belongings with us in a jalopy truck. I wrote to Neal and told him what
I had done. He wrote back a huge letter 18,000 words long and said he
was coming to get me and personally select the old truck himself and
drive us home. We had six weeks to save up the money for the truck so we
began working and counting every cent. And suddenly Neal arrived
anyway, five and a half weeks in advance, and nobody had any money to go
through with the plan. I was taking a walk and came back to my wife to
tell her what I thought about during my walk. She stood in the dark
parlor with a strange smile. I told her a number of things and suddenly I
noticed the hush in the room and looked around and saw a battered book
on the television set. I knew it was Neal’s book. As in a dream I saw
him tiptoe in from the dark kitchen in his stockinged feet. He couldn’t
talk anymore. He hopped and laughed, he stuttered and fluttered his
hands and said “Ah---ah---you must listen to hear.” We listened. But he
forgot what he wanted to say. “Really listen---ahem…look dear Jack…sweet
Joan…I’ve come…I’m gone…but wait---Ah
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