Free And the Hippos Were Boiled in their Tanks by William S. Burroughs and Jack Kerouac

brandy.”
    “Well,” he said, “I don’t care much for brandy.”
    There was a long silence. I excused myself and went to the toilet and leaned against the wall, keeping a sharp eye out for the rats.
    When I returned, Al and Phillip were preparing to go out and buy a bottle of rum with money subscribed by the two men. I went over and began playing records to avoid conversation. Ryko was talking to Betty-Lou, and I could overhear that it was about Phillip. Ryko seemed to be making headway with her.
    Al and Phillip finally came back with two French sailors they had picked up in George’s. Everyone began to talk bad French, except the sailors who were talking bad English. They were trying to get across that they were respectable characters who were not used to taking up with strangers and everyone kept telling them that it was all right.
    Finally, the party disbanded and we walked out onto the street. Phillip wanted something to eat, so we started up Seventh Avenue toward Riker’s.
    Phillip hit a bus stop sign, which waved back and forth, so Al jumped up on a wooden shelf for newspapers that was in front of a candy store and knocked it down. The Greek rushed out of the store and grabbed Al, and Al had to give him a dollar.
    Later, when we were sitting in Riker’s at the counter eating eggs, Ryko told me that Betty-Lou had taken a great dislike to Phillip.
    “There’s something rotten about him,” she had said. “He has the smell of death about him.”
    “That’s one for the book all right,” I said.
    Later, as we were leaving Riker’s, Phillip showed me a dollar and said he’d stolen it out of Betty-Lou’s purse.

8
MIKE RYKO
    W EDNESDAY TURNED OUT TO BE A BEAUTIFUL DAY . It was one of those clear and cool June days when everything is blue and rose and turret-brown. I stuck my head out Janie’s bedroom window and looked around. It was eleven o’clock yet everything looked fresh and keen like early morning.
    Janie was sore at Phillip and me for coming home late, so she didn’t get up to make us breakfast, and Barbara was home in Manhasset.
    We started off for the Union Hall and just as we turned down 17th Street there was Ramsay Allen, waiting for us on the steps of the hall with a big smile on his face.
    We went in the hall and there was a whole flock of new jobs on the board. The first thing I did was go back in one of the offices and start beefing about my card.
    “I can’t get a ship with this member-in-arrears card,” I told the official, “and I’ve got to go right away because I’m broke.”
    “Can’t do anything for you,” he said flatly.
    I went back to Phillip and Al. They were sitting in a row of chairs and Phillip was reading Briffault’s
Europa
while Al watched him. I told them what the official had said.
    Al said he knew a girl from the Village who worked in one of the offices upstairs. “I’ll try to cook something up,” he said, and went upstairs to see her.
    He got back fifteen minutes later and told us he had made an appointment with her for lunch.
    Phillip said, “What are you going to pay her lunch with?”
    Al said he’d be back in a half hour with some money, and he left.
    “Well,” I said to Phillip, “I wonder why he’s helping us?”
    “He probably thinks I’ll let him ship out with me,” said Phil.
    It was about a quarter to one when Al got back with five bucks he had borrowed from some friends in the Village. He went upstairs and came down again with the union girl. It was plain to see that this girl was stuck on Al, and maybe she would do anything for him.
    We started off for lunch and went into a Spanish restaurant on Eighth Avenue. The girl said she ate here every day and that it was a real “mañana” place. Then she asked me what my problem was and I told her.
    “You see,” I concluded, “the reason why I’m behind in dues and overstayed my leave is because I was down with the flu for two weeks and it sort of knocked me off my stride.”
    “Didn’t