in New York without my old buddy.” And he said, “New York, I stop over in it, Frisco’s my hometown. All the time I’ve been here I haven’t had any girl but Inez—this only happens to me in New York! Damn! But the mere thought of crossing that awful continent again—Sal, we haven’t talked straight in a long time.” In New York we were always jumping around frantically with crowds of friends at drunken parties. It somehow didn’t seem to fit Dean. He looked more like himself huddling in the cold, misty spray of the rain on empty Madison Avenue at night. “Inez loves me; she’s told me and promised me I can do anything I want and there’ll be a minimum of trouble. You see, man, you get older and troubles pile up. Someday you and me’ll be coming down an alley together at sundown and looking in the cans to see.”
“You mean we’ll end up old bums?”
“Why not, man? Of course we will if we want to, and all that. There’s no harm ending that way. You spend a whole life of non-interference with the wishes of others, including politicians and the rich, and nobody bothers you and you cut along and make it your own way.” I agreed with him. He was reaching his Tao decisions in the simplest direct way. “What’s your road, man?—holyboy road, madman road, rainbow road, guppy road, any road. It’s an anywhere road for anybody anyhow. Where body how?” We nodded in the rain. “Sheeit, and you’ve got to look out for your boy. He ain’t a man ‘less he’s a jumpin man—do what the doctor say. I’ll tell you, Sal, straight, no matter where I live, my trunk’s always sticking out from under the bed, I’m ready to leave or get thrown out. I’ve decided to leave everything out of my hands. You’ve seen me try and break my ass to make it and you know that it doesn’t matter and we know time—how to slow it up and walk and dig and just old-fashioned spade kicks, what other kicks are there? We know.” We sighed in the rain. It was falling all up and down the Hudson Valley that night. The great world piers of the sea-wide river were drenched in it, old steamboat landings at Poughkeepsie were drenched in it, old Split Rock Pond of sources was drenched in it, Vanderwhacker Mount was drenched in it.
“So,” said Dean, “I’m cutting along in my life as it leads me. You know I recently wrote my old man in jail in Seattle—I got the first letter in years from him the other day.”
“Did you?”
“Yass, yass. He said he wants to see the ‘babby’ spelt with two b’s when he can get to Frisco. I found a thirteen-a-month cold water pad on East Fortieth; if I can send him the money he’ll come and live in New York—if he gets here. I never told you much about my sister but you know I have a sweet little kid sister; I’d like to get her to come and live with me too.”
“Where is she?”
“Well, that’s just it, I don’t know—he’s going to try to find her, the old man, but you know what he’ll really do.”
“‘So he went to Seattle?”
“And straight to messy jail.”
“Where was he?”
“Texas, Texas—so you see, man, my soul, the state of things, my position—you notice I get quieter.”
“Yes, that’s true.” Dean had grown quiet in New York. He wanted to talk. We were freezing to death in the cold rain. We made a date to meet at my aunt’s house before I left.
He came the following Sunday afternoon. I had a television set. We played one ballgame on the TV, another on the radio, and kept switching to a third and kept track of all that was happening every moment. “Remember, Sal, Hodges is on second in Brooklyn so while the relief pitcher is coming in for. the Phillies we’ll switch to Giants-Boston and at the same time notice there DiMaggio has three balls count and the.pitcher is fiddling with the resin bag, so we quickly find out what happened to Bobby Thomson when we left him thirty seconds ago with a man on third. Yes!”
Later in the afternoon we went out and played baseball with the kids in the sooty field by the Long Island railyard. We also played basketball so frantically the younger boys said, “Take it easy, you don’t have to kill yourself.” They bounced smoothly