Chapter 9 Part III 5

"Fuck, I wish I could find my brother." He asked all the way.He probably thought he was our prisoner, and we ended up in a big bakery.The entertainer and his brother came out of it. His brother was wearing overalls, obviously working inside just now. He talked with his brother for a few minutes while we waited in the car.The entertainer told his brother about his lost guitar and his adventures.Then he got the money and gave it to us.We were ready to leave for San Francisco, thanked him, and set off.The next stop is Dural.We started up the hill again.I relaxed on the back seat, I was a little excited just now, and now I can just take a nap.In the afternoon, the dusty Hudson drove past a cluster of homes outside Sabina.In the past, I've lived there, been in love, and worked there.Dean drove the car blankly.I was still sleeping when I reached Dural.A loud cry woke me up. "Sol, get up! Alfred found his aunt's grocery store, but you know what happened? His aunt's gone to jail for shooting her husband. It's so much like that joke, we're going to I didn't even get the money, think about it, that's what happened. That tramp told exactly the same story, it's a mess. The world is too complicated—ha ha, fuck it!" Alfred gnawed fingernails.So we continued on the road until Madeira, where we said goodbye to little Alfred.We wish him luck and a smooth journey to Oregon.He said it was the happiest trip he had ever had.

We started driving in the foothills of Oakland.In a few minutes, we suddenly came to a high ground, and the fabulous San Francisco in white appeared before us.In the distance, the blue Pacific Ocean shone golden in the evening sun. "Oh, it's so beautiful!" Dean exclaimed, "We're here! Gasoline is just enough! Oh, we're at the water's edge! There's no more land! We haven't Can't go any further because there's no land ahead. Now, Marylou, honey, you and Sol are waiting for me at the hotel at once. I'll get in touch with you as soon as I've got Camille set up. Then I'll have to call Frenchman, go and ask me when I will work on the railway. Go and buy a local newspaper first, and check the job advertisements and project plans.” Then he drove us to the Oakland Bay Bridge .In the bustling commercial center, row after row of high-rise buildings flashing neon lights, this scene will remind you of Sam Speed.On the busy O'Farrell Street, we stumbled out of the car and breathed the breath of the city, as if we had just finished a long sea trip and finally set foot on the coast.The road was dusty and the air smelled of opium smoke from Chinatown.We took everything out of the car and piled it all on the sidewalk.

Dean said goodbye to us abruptly, anxious to see Camille and find out what happened.Marylou and I stood silently in the street, watching him drive away. "You see he's really a bastard," Marylou said. "For his own sake, Dean will throw you on the street anytime and anywhere." "I know." I turned and looked east, and sighed.We had no money, and Dean hadn't mentioned money. "Where are we going?" We wandered aimlessly through the narrow and mysterious streets with a few bundles of tattered things in our hands. The people who came and went looked like down-and-out extras, a fading star, an acrobat who had lost his charm, a tiny auto racer, a sad-faced Californian who hated the end of the continent, Ca. Sarovar types, hotel blondes with puffy eyes, whores, pimps, thieves, masseurs, bartenders, and whatnot—you name it.How could a man survive among these people?

Yet Marylou was already among these people--it was not far from Tenderloin--and a gray-faced hotel bellboy offered us a room on credit.This is the first thing to do.Then we go to eat.We haven't eaten since midnight.A nightclub star was warming up a can of pork and beans in her room, a pistol hanging upside down on a coat rack.The neon lights outside the window are constantly flickering.I said to myself, where's Dean, and why doesn't he care about our happiness?I lost faith in him that year.I lived in San Francisco for a week and it was the most miserable week of my life.Marylou and I were running around for dinner, and we even went to a cheap hotel on Missing Street to find some sailors whom Marylou knew, and they got very drunk and gave us some whiskey too.

We lived together in the hotel for two days.I know Dean won't show up now.Marylou wasn't interested in me, she just wanted to get back in Dean's best friend, and we bickered in the room and sometimes slept in the bed. I told her my dream, and told her that the biggest snake in the world curled up on the ground like a worm parasitic in an apple. One day in the future, it will pile up into a mountain, which is the snake mountain we have always known. If it climbs to the flat ground, it will be It is more than a hundred miles long, and it destroys wherever it crawls. I told her that this snake is Satan. "What happened next?" she screamed in terror, hugging me tightly at the same time.

"A saint named Docter Sachs will kill it with a mysterious herb that he has been burning in his underground cabin somewhere in America. It is known that the snake Confine the dove of peace, and once it dies, thousands of doves of peace will fly high and spread the gospel of peace to the world.” At this time, the hunger and pain seemed to have disappeared. One night, Marylou elopes with a nightclub owner.That day, I was waiting for her at the appointed door, and I was very hungry. Suddenly, she and one of her boyfriends came out of the strange-shaped nightclub building, followed by the nightclub owner, a fat old guy.At first, Marylou just went in to see her girlfriend, who I thought must be a whore.Marylou was terrified of my discovery, though she saw me standing in the doorway.She came out slowly and joined them.Now, I'm alone, with nothing on me.

I walked aimlessly, picking up a few cigarette butts from the road to smoke from time to time.On Commercial Avenue, I passed a fried fish restaurant.The proprietress gave me a panicked look as I walked by, apparently thinking I was carrying a gun and was robbing the restaurant.I went on for a few steps, and suddenly it seemed to me that she was my mother in England two hundred years ago, and that I was her son turned highwayman, just out of prison, looking for a decent job in a restaurant .I stood blankly by the side of the road, trembling with excitement for a moment.I looked back at Commercial Avenue, as if I came to Canal Street in New Orleans in a trance: it leads to the sea, leading to the vast sea, just like 42nd Street in New York leading to the sea.I thought of Eddie.Dunkel's ghost wandering in Times Square, I was already a little delirious at this time, and I really wanted to go back and see the strange ghostly mother in the diner.It seems that all the memories go back to England in 1750, and I am a different person and a different life now in San Francisco. "No," said the proprietress, staring at me in horror, "don't come back and torture your kind, hard-working mother. You are not like my son, but like my father. My first husband, Eri, was Greek, and this Good people always take pity on me." (The proprietress is a Greek. Her arms are covered with hair) "You are terrible. Often drunk, stumbled back and snatched my hard earned things. Oh , son! Why don't you kneel down and pray for judgment for all your sins and vile deeds. Don't touch my scar again, she's as if you never came back to see me--to see my toil and humility, Look at my purse emptied out—robbed when I was hungry, beat when I was in a hurry. My own, unfeeling, cruel, selfish son. Son! Son!" In an instant, I reached The madness that I have always wanted to achieve, has completely stepped out of the concrete time into this timeless situation.I couldn't help but marvel at the misery of the world, and death pursued me like a ghost.I hastened to flee to the place where all the angels landed, where the holy and eternal nothingness, the bright spiritual light radiated strong, magical rays, and countless beautiful palaces appeared in the sky.I heard an indescribable rumbling, unlike all other sounds, not in my ears, but everywhere, and I realized that I had died countless times and been reborn countless times, and I remembered I don't know how many times this kind of death and resurrection has happened, because the transition from life to death and back to life is surprisingly easy, as natural as falling asleep and waking up thousands of times.I understand that due to the inherent stability of the inner mind, the alternation between life and death is nothing but ripples caused by the breeze blowing across the clear, calm water.An extreme high that made me feel a little jittery, like an overdose of heroin intravenously, like drinking a large glass of wine in the afternoon, making you tremble and stagger.I thought I was going to die right away, but I didn't, and walked the 4 miles, picked up a dozen butts that were still long, brought them back to Marylou's room, and loaded the tobacco into my pipe, smoked, and I was too young to know what was going on.I seem to smell the food in San Francisco outside the window. In some places, the bread is steaming, and the windows are full of food. In some places, people are chewing fat and red beef, while drinking wine and nibbling on roast chicken, in some places, hamburgers are sizzling on the oven, and you can buy them for 5 cents. drink a cup of coffee.Oh, and the smell of frying pans wafting into my room from Chinatown, with Northbeach's spaghetti and Hough's soft-shell crab, and filth hanging from spits Moore's rib meat!This is the San Francisco of my dreams.

The damp and cold fog is getting thicker and thicker, neon lights are flickering in the gentle night, high-heeled shoes are clunking across the street, and there are a group of white pigeons on the windows of Chinese food stores... That's when Dean found me, and he finally thought I could be saved.He took me to where Camille lived, "Where's Marylou, man?" "The bitch is gone." Camille, a well-bred, mild-mannered young woman, succeeded Marylou.She knew the eighteen bucks Dean gave her were mine.But where have you been, Marylou dear?I rested for a few days in Camille's room on Raibert Street, and on drizzly nights, from the bedroom window, you could see all of San Francisco clearly, in my During his few days there, Dean did the most ridiculous things of his life.He got a job: breaking into people's kitchens and performing on a new pressurized speed evaporator.The salesman gave him some samples and instructions.

On the first day, Dean was full of energy, and I drove him all over the city, going to the houses he had appointments with.First accept the invitation to dinner, and then perform the pressurized speed steamer. "Man," Dean yelled excitedly, "this is better than when I was working for Zinny. Zinny's peddling encyclopedias in Oakland like no one else. He gave a long speech first, Jumping up and down, laughing and yelling. Once we broke into a shed where everyone was going to a funeral and Zinny knelt down and prayed for the dead souls and all the workers were crying He ended up selling a whole dozen encyclopedias. He's the nicest guy in the world. I wonder where he is now? We used to take young women into the kitchen to make out. This afternoon I ran into a Unspoken housewife, in her kitchen, puts her arm around her and starts acting, aha!"

"Keep going, Dean," I said, "and hopefully someday you'll be the mayor of San Francisco." He had memorized all the instructions, and in the evenings he practiced in front of Camille and me. One morning, as the sun was rising, he stood naked at the window, looking out at all of San Francisco, looking as if he would one day be the pagan leader of San Francisco; but his Enthusiasm quickly faded.One afternoon, when it was raining heavily outside, the salesman came to see what Dean was up to.Dean was curled up on the sofa, "Are you ready to sell these things?"

"No," Dean said, "I just got another job." "So, what are you going to do with these samples?" "I don't know." In dead silence, the salesman put away his poor things and left.I was feeling a little sick and bored with everything, and so was Dean. But then one night we suddenly went into another trance together, and we went to see Slim in a nightclub.Gaylard.He was a tall, thin black man with large, melancholy eyes.He was always saying "well" and "How about some whiskey?" In San Francisco, many enthusiastic young intellectuals used to sit at his feet and listen to him play piano, guitar and drums.When he got hot from playing, he took off his clothes and trousers and was completely naked.He can say whatever he wants, and do whatever he wants.He would sing and suddenly slow down, tapping his fingers lightly on the surface of the drum.Everyone can only hear if they lean forward and hold their breath.You thought he'd only be knocking like this for a while, but instead he knocked like that for an hour.The sound of knocking with your fingers became smaller and smaller until you couldn't hear anything, only the sound of vehicles passing by outside the door, then he stood up slowly, took the microphone, and sang intermittently.After about 15 minutes, his voice became softer and fainter.At this moment, his melancholy eyes scanned the audience. Standing in the back, Dean exclaimed, "Oh my God! That's great!" Then he clapped his hands vigorously. The piano was played.The burly bass player jerks out of his trance to realize that Slim is playing "Jim Blues." Slim thumps the keys with his thick fingers, striking a distinct rhythm, and everyone follows. The rhythm shakes.Slim went crazy again.An hour and a half later, he was beating the drums violently to a furious Kapona rhythm, all the while babbling Spanish, Arabic, Bolivian, Egyptian, and every other language he knew. language called.He knows so many languages.Finally, the piece is over, Slim.Galyard walked to a tree and stopped.His eyes flicked over people's heads as they came up to talk to him.A glass of whiskey was passed into his hand. "Oh, whiskey, thanks." No one knew about Slim.Where did Gaylard come from.It occurred to Dean once that he thought he was pregnant with a child.As he lay on the lawn of a California hospital, his stomach bulged.slime.Gaylard sat under a tree surrounded by a group of Negroes.Dean stared at him with desperate eyes.Slim said, "Come here." Dean came closer to him, and he came closer to his God, and he thought Slim was God.He stood in front of Slim and nodded uneasily, asking him to stay with us. "Okay," Slim said.He can be with anyone, but he can't guarantee to be with you mentally.Dean found a table, bought a few glasses of wine, and sat nervously in front of Slim, who stared blankly over his head.I sat with these two madmen.Nothing happened. I met Ramsad and Jerry that night at Fillmore.Ramsad was a tall, dark fellow.He walked into the music bar in a coat, hat, and scarf, then jumped on stage and sang.He had a broad forehead and a deep, deep voice.As he sang, he shouted to the people: "To go to heaven without dying, take the doctor's tiger medicine first, and then drink the whiskey."He ran up to our table and yelled at us, "That's great!" Then he staggered down the street and into another bar.One is named Connie.Qiao Tang's madman continued to sing, he kept waving his hands to wipe his sweat, and screamed into the microphone like a woman.In the middle of the night, you can always find him listening to crazy jazz in Jameson's bar, with a glass of wine in front of him, sitting listlessly, with a pair of big eyes staring blankly ahead.I've never seen such a crazy musician.In San Francisco, almost everyone does drugs.This is the end of the continent, no one will care about you.Dean and I just hung out in San Francisco until it was time for me to go home for the next GT test. I don't know why I'm in San Francisco.Camille wanted me to leave, and Dean didn't care about anything.I bought bread and meat, made 10 sandwiches, and prepared to cross the country again.By the time I was getting ready to Dakota, they were getting a little bored of me.The night before I left, Dean found Marylou out of nowhere in the mall, in a frenzy.We drove across the bay, all over Richmond, and found a black jazz hall.Marylou went in and sat down, and a Negro took the chair away from her and approached her with a lewd grin.I went in too, and Dean stood by sweating.This is the end.I wanna go. In the morning, after saying goodbye to Dean and Marylou, I boarded the bus bound for New York.They wanted to eat a few of my sandwiches and I told them no.This is a sad moment.We all thought we might never see each other again, but we didn't care.