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

the other patients rush for the chow line and knowing George's fantastic
appetite wrapped in that little frail body I don't wanta hang him up tho he
nevertheless does one last trick: He throws a glass of water out the window
in a big froosh of water and I don't see him any more.
"Wotze mean by that? " I'm scratching my head going back to the car.


16


To complete this crazy day at 3 o'clock in the morning here I am
sitting in a car being driven 100 miles an hour around the sleeping streets
and hills and waterfronts of San Francisco, Dave's gone off to sleep with
Romana and the others are passed out and this crazy nextdoor neighbor of the
roominghouse (himself a Bohemian but also a laborer, a housepainter who
comes home with big muddy boots and has his little boy living with him the
wife has died) - I've been in his pad listening to booming loud Stan Getz
jazz on his Hi Fi and happened to mention I thought Dave Wain and Cody
Pomeray were the two greatest drivers in the world - "What? " he yells, a
big blond husky kid with a strange fixed smile, "man I used to drive the
getaway car! come on down I'll show ya! " - So almost dawn and here we are
cuttin down Buchanan and around the corner on screeching wheels and he opens
her up, goes zipping towards a red light so takes a sudden screeching left
and goes up a hill fullblast, when we come to the top of the hill I figger
he'll pause awhile to see what's over the top but he goes even faster and
practically flies off the hill and we head down one of those incredibly
steep San Fran streets with our snout pointed to the waters of the Bay and
he steps on the gas! we go sailing down a hundred m. p. h. to the bottom of
the hill where there's an intersection luckily with the light on green and
thru that we blast with just one little bump where the road crosses and
another bump where the street is dipping downhill again - We come down to
the waterfront and screech right In a minute we're soaring over the ramps
around the Bridge entrance and before I can gulp up a shot or two from my
last late bottle we're already parked back outside the pad on Buchanan -
The greatest driver in the world whoever he was and I never saw him again -
Bruce something or other - What a getaway.


17


I end up groaning drunk on the floor this time beside Dave's floor
mattress forgetting that he's not even there. But a strange thing happened
that morning I remember now: before Cody's call from downvalley: I'm feeling
hopelessly idiotically depressed again groaning to remember Tyke's dead and
remembering that sinking beach but at the side of the radiator in the toilet
lies a copy of Boswell's Johnson which we'd been discussing so happy in the
car: I open to any page then one more page and start reading from the top
left and suddenly I'm in an entirely perfect world again: old Doc Johnson
and Boswell are visiting a castle in Scotland belonging to a deceased friend