"Джек Керуак. Big Sur (engl)" - читать интересную книгу автора

patients, GI vets, will see that he's received a visit from a bunch of
ragged beatniks including Joey Rosenberg who is bouncing around the lawn
looking at flowers with that bemused sincere smile - But little neat
George, just five feet five and a few pounds over that and so clean, with
his soft feathery hair like the hair of a child, his delicate hands, he just
stares at the ground - His answers come like an old man's (he's only 30) -
"I guess all the Dharma talk about everything is nothing is just sorta
sinking in my bones, " he concedes, which makes me shudder - (On the way
Dave's been telling us to be ready because George's changed so) - But I try
to keep things going, "Do you remember those dancing girls in St Louis? " -
"Yen, whore candy" (he's referring to a piece of perfumed cotton one of the
girls threw at us in her dance, which we tacked up later to a highway
accident cross we'd yanked out of the ground one blood red sunset in
Arizona, tacking this perfumed beautiful cotton right where the head of
Christ was so that when we brought the cross to New York naturally we had
everybody smelling it but George pointed out how beautiful we'd done all
this subconsciously because the net result was that all the hepcats of
Greenwich Village who came in to see us were picking up the cross and
putting their heads [noses] to it) - But George doesn't care any more -
And anyway it's time to leave.
But ah, as we're leaving and waving back at him and he's turned around
tentatively to go into the hospital I linger behind the others and turn
around several times to wave again - Finally I start to make a joke of it
by ducking around a corner and peeking out and waving again... He ducks
behind a bush and waves back I dart to a bush and peek out... Suddenly we're
two crazy hopeless sages goofing on a lawn - Finally as we part further and
further and he comes closer to the door we are making elaborate gestures and
down to the most infinitesimal like when he steps inside the door I wait
till I see him sticking a finger out - So from around my corner I stick out
a shoe - So from his door he sticks out an eye - So from my corner I stick
out nothing but just yell "Wu! " - So from his door he sticks out nothing
and says nothing
- So I hide in the corner and do nothing - But suddenly I burst out
and there HE is bursting out and we start waving gyrations and duck back to
our hiding places - Then I pull a big one by simply walking away rapidly
but suddenly I turn and wave again - He walking backwards and waving back
- The further I go now also walking backwards the more I wave -
Finally we're so far apart by about a hundred yards the game is almost
impossible but we continue somehow - Finally I see a distant sad little Zen
wave of hand
- I jump up into the air and gyrate both arms - He does the same -
He goes into the hospital but a moment later he's peeking out this time from
the ward window! - I'm behind a tree trunk thumbing my nose at him -
There's no end to it, in fact - The other kids are all back at the car
wondering what's keeping me - What's keeping me is that I know George will
get better and live and teach the joyful truth and George knows I know this,
that's why he's playing the game with me, the magic game of glad freedom
which is what Zen or for that matter the Japanese soul ultimately means I
say, "And someday I will go to Japan with George" I tell myself after we've
made our last little wave because I've heard the supper bell ring and seen