One and Only (13 page)

On that second trip to New York, Jack and I were starting to become involved with each other—not as lovers, but as persons. It began at that New Year's Eve party that John Holmes wrote about in
Go
. I was already starting to lose track of Neal—he was always busy doing something. Neal had run off with that girl that Jack liked, and I never found out what happened. Jack and I became dancers
that particular night; and ever after that, we would dance together every opportunity we had—as long as we were loaded. You see, Jack didn't dance, and I wasn't the world's greatest; but when we danced together, when we were loaded, I swear to you that we became the most fantastic dancers.

 

Jack would throw me up in the air and catch me. I became the most graceful person in the world. Yeah, I was a ballet star, and he was a Nijinsky! We were fantastic together! He loved it, and so did I, because our confidence used to soar when we danced like that. We didn't care who was watching. Jack, as everyone knows, was no extrovert in that respect; and believe me, neither have I ever been. I never want to be the center of attraction anywhere. In a group, a room full of people, I just want to sit back and listen. But in that respect, Jack and I would become extroverts, and happily, when we
danced. We just thought we were
so good.
In fact, this dancing bit became like a little secret between the two of us. We really knew how great we were, and we didn't care where we were. When we got loaded, and Jack would ask me to dance, we'd just start doing the Nijinsky moves all over again. We really did it, and it was like the world disappeared. That's something I've never told anybody.

I don't know if there was a secret desire in both of us that we could really dance as well as we thought we were dancing, and I don't know to this day if we were as good as we thought we were when we were together—or if it was all in our heads. People always talked about how awkward Jack was; and when it came to real dancing, traditional dancing, Jack could barely get by. I mean, he'd do a one-two, one-two type of thing—if anything. That's what was so fantastic about his suddenly turning into Nijinsky that night, at the New Year's Eve party. It was as though the world melted away for us, and we just became the only two people there. The really fantastic twists and turns and bending me back—and swirling me around like we were on the huge floor of a ballroom—it was always like that with us, from the first time we danced to the very last. Whenever everybody was busy and we were loaded and there was music on, we just sort of melted into a dance. Whether anybody really paid attention to us—or whether they thought,
Oh, Jack and Lu Anne are dancing again!
and ignored us—I really don't know. But I do know, in our heads, we thought we were Astaire and Rogers! And as we saw it, we really were.

A lot of what happened after that night is a blur to me. The day after the party, Neal found this couple somewhere, and they had some opium. None of us had ever heard of opium—smoking opium—except maybe in the movies. Of course, everyone smoked marijuana, which was a big thing then, especially among the hipsters in New York. But opium, my God! Anyway, he dragged this couple
up to the apartment, and we smoked opium with them—Jack, Allen, Neal, and myself. That was the first and only time I ever smoked opium. I really don't remember much about what happened to Neal or the others, or what anyone was doing, after we smoked it.

 

 

When we got down to Algiers, down at Burroughs's place, then I felt a change in Jack. He was doing a lot of talking alone with Bill, and there was a lot of stuff being discussed between them that they didn't share with us. I got the impression when we were there that Bill was very unhappy with Neal. Bill didn't show it in any way, or say anything in particular to us. It was the first time I had ever met him, and we didn't talk a lot with each other, so it was something I felt more than anything he expressed directly. Because, during our stay there, Bill was very kind, very like an old friend. It was obvious he was very glad to see Jack. But I perceived—not a big difference, I can't say that—but something subtle change inside Jack. Jack was still excited about the trip, and clearly happy being on this trip, but I felt something had begun to trouble him. I felt it was connected either with something he and Bill had discussed, or with some impression he'd gotten from Bill—maybe Bill putting Neal in
a little bit different light for him. So I don't really know what it was, but there was a definite change that I felt in Jack. He was no longer quite as exuberant over the whole trip.

The coming down to Algiers had been an absolute fantasy for us. We just really had a ball—like the night he described in
On the Road.
We were going through the bayous, and Jack was telling me about Lucien and David Kammerer, and describing in detail how Lucien had stabbed him to death one night in a dark park by the Hudson River. Of course, when we were kids we all used to listen to
The Shadow Knows
,
¹³
you know, and such as that. We were all nuts about scary shows like that. And we had just been listening to some scary shows on the radio, which is how the subject came up. And then Jack got excited and couldn't keep from telling me his own scary story. It was like he was telling a ghost story to a kid.

Jack was over by the door, Neal was driving, and I was in the middle. I was leaning toward Jack, and Jack had his arm around me, and he was saying in this low, mystery-story voice: “And, after he stabbed him, Lucien looked at the bloody knife…” And he went through the whole thing, one gory detail after the next. I mean, he really did it vividly! He had me sitting there on the edge of my seat, and of course he knew it. And Neal was giggling with him—like a conspirator with him. They were acting like they were gonna do just those very things to me—or like somebody was gonna jump up behind me at any second. That's just exactly how I felt. Trees were overhanging the road, and it was black night all around us. It was really a scary scene, and listening to him and knowing that it was all true made me even more frightened. He was talking in this silly low voice: “And then… And
then!”
—building up to bigger and
bigger crescendos. He was doing his best to torture me, but I loved every minute of it.

It was a fantastic trip down to New Orleans; and on that last part of the trip, it was just Neal, Jack, and me. Al had only come part of the way with us out of New York. We had gotten stopped by police when Al was speeding, somewhere in Virginia. Al offered to spend a night in jail, to keep Neal from having to pay the fine, but the cops made Neal pay it. We were lucky we all didn't end up in jail. We were carrying a little pot, but I had stuffed it down my pants, and everything would have been fine, except that when the police questioned us, Neal's story didn't match mine. I was eighteen at the time, but I looked very young, younger than eighteen. It was this small Southern town, and you know how they are, when they sense something that might possibly be “immoral.” They decided they would question me by myself, away from the others. They asked me what my name was and what I was doing and where we were going, and I told them automatically I was Neal's wife.

Well, in the meantime, Neal had gotten out of the car because he was furious that they had pulled us over. These kind of things—
anything
like that, that interrupted the trip—used to just make Neal insane! He was outside the car, just screaming and ranting. Well, when they asked him what he was doing, he tells them that he's going back to California to his wife—meaning Carolyn.
To his wife!
Which he thought sounded better, because there were two other men in the car. I could have been with one of them. Well, you know, the stories didn't jibe, and then I had to go through the whole thing of explaining how I'm not his wife now, but I used to be his wife—we just got an annulment a few months ago, and
blah blah blah blah!

So we all set out together again, but in Florida we needed money, so Al set to work washing dishes. For some reason, Al must have
chosen to stay over there for a night. Al joined us a day later at Burroughs's place, where he was supposed to meet up with Helen.