The Sea is My Brother by Jack Kerouac Read Free Book Online Page B

worn a brown suit with stitched seams and double slit pockets in the jacket; beneath it she wore a casual sport shirt.
    â€œThis is the suit I have to model this morning,” she chattered to all in general. “Twelve ninety-five. Don’t you think it’s cute?”
    â€œNo frills, no flubs!” commented Everhart.
    â€œCould I get one cheap?” demanded Polly from Wesley’s arm. “See how much you can get it for; I’ll give you the money. I think it’s classic!”
    They were now in the street. George Day, very tall and shambling, dragged along behind them, not quite capable of maintaining any sort of morning dignity. Polly strode beside Wesley chatting gayly, while Ginger and Everhart
talked through one another about what ever occurred to their minds. Near the 110th Street subway entrance Ginger left them. “Oh look!” cried George, pointing toward a bar across the street. Ginger, ready to cross the street, turned: “You go to your class, Day!” She ran off across the street for her subway, her trim little heels clacking a rapid staccato. “How,” George wanted to know in general, “can a woman with legs like that be so cruel?” Near 114th Street, George left them with a brief “Goodbye kids” and shuffled off toward his class, hands dug reluctantly in his pockets.
    â€œA gentleman and a pseudo-scholar,” Everhart observed. A group of girls in slacks walked by in the warm sunlight, laden with tennis rackets and basketballs, their multi-colored heads of hair radiant in the morning glitter. Wesley appraised them with a frank stare. When one of the girls whistled, Polly whistled back. Near a small cigar store, a tall curly haired youth and another shorter one with glasses, paid their respects to Polly with a rhythmic whistle that kept in time with her long, loose stride. Polly whistled back to them.
    They turned down 116th Street toward the Drive.
    â€œI’d better be getting home or my aunt will brain me,” said Polly, laughing on Wesley’s lapel.
    â€œWhere do you live?” asked Wesley.

    â€œOn the Drive, near the Delta Chi house,” she told him. “Look, Wes, where are you going now?”
    Wesley turned to Everhart.
    â€œHe’s coming with me,” said the latter. “I’m going home and breaking the news to the folks. I don’t have to ask them, but I want to see if it’s all right with them.”
    â€œBill, are you really joining the Merchant Marine? I thought you were just drunk!” confessed Polly with a laugh.
    â€œWhy not?” barked Everhart. “I want to get away from all this for awhile.”
    â€œWhat about the University?” Polly supplied.
    â€œThat’s no problem; all I have to do is ask for a vacation. I’ve been at it for six years without a break; they’ll certainly grant me the request.”
    Polly returned her attention to Wesley: “Well, Wes, I’m expecting you to call on me at six tonight—no, I make it seven, I have to get a manicure at Mae’s. We’ll have another wild time. Do you know any good places we could hit tonight?”
    â€œSure,” smiled Wesley, “I always have a right big time down in Harlem; I got some friends there, some boys I used to ship with.”
    â€œThat’s swell!” sang Polly. “We can go there; I’d like to see a show before, though; let’s go downtown to the Paramount and see Bob Hope.”

    Wesley shrugged: “Suits me, but I’m broke just now.”
    â€œOh the hell with that, I can get some money from my aunt!” cried Polly. “What about you Bill? Want me to call Eve for you? I don’t think she’s doing anything tonight; Friday today, isn’t it?”
    â€œYes,” mused Bill. “We’ll see about tonight; I’ll call you up. I have to see Dean Stewart this afternoon about my leave.” Everhart’s face,