Early August, 1997. Burroughs
is dying in his home in Lawrence, Kansas.
Eric and Jordan call me to say the great man would be cold & gone tomorrow (how do they know), so we have to hurry to get there on time. Two years ago: Jordan completely naked, reading from Junkie in her wailing whisper, under a tree. Our dream: to see Burroughs. I think I’m in love with Jordan, but Eric is always there and I’m not. Also, he has a car. We get into the car and we drive off. I realise I forgot to tell my parents. I will find a telephone booth at a gas station on our way to Kansas. Jordan tries to read her favourite excerpts from Naked Lunch, but it’s getting dark already, and she can’t make out the words. I think she looks great, in her white blouse and her light yellow pinafore skirt. We missed a few gas stations and I realise I won’t be making that phone call. Jordan lights my cigarette, then Eric’s. First mine, then his. Eric asks us not to fall asleep as that would make him feel lonely. Jordan says we are insane. I think we are all getting tired.
Eric and Jordan call me to say the great man would be cold & gone tomorrow (how do they know), so we have to hurry to get there on time. Two years ago: Jordan completely naked, reading from Junkie in her wailing whisper, under a tree. Our dream: to see Burroughs. I think I’m in love with Jordan, but Eric is always there and I’m not. Also, he has a car. We get into the car and we drive off. I realise I forgot to tell my parents. I will find a telephone booth at a gas station on our way to Kansas. Jordan tries to read her favourite excerpts from Naked Lunch, but it’s getting dark already, and she can’t make out the words. I think she looks great, in her white blouse and her light yellow pinafore skirt. We missed a few gas stations and I realise I won’t be making that phone call. Jordan lights my cigarette, then Eric’s. First mine, then his. Eric asks us not to fall asleep as that would make him feel lonely. Jordan says we are insane. I think we are all getting tired.
Kansas is colder than
Colorado, or maybe it’s just nighttime. Eric plays some insane jazz, fast and
nonsensical, and Jordan opens whisky.
Finally, we are in
Lawrence, and it’s breaking dawn now. We are exhausted and excited and happy
and drunk. We start arguing whether Cronenberg’s Naked Lunch was good or not (I think it’s a masterpiece), and I just
imagine Jordan in that scary typewriter scene. Her hair is wet. Finally, we see
the great man’s place. Alcohol numbs the effect. It’s early morning, and the house is surrounded by
dozens of people. Different ages. With books. Some are crying. One is wearing
jeans exactly like mine. There are
whispers everywhere: heart attack, dead, dying. Windows are sealed with wood.
We are not saying anything, and not even trying to get through. We just stand
there for five hours, until it’s confirmed: Burroughs is dead. Some old bearded
guy to the left of us says the body has already been ‘removed from the premises’.
Such a turn of the phrase. Some remain standing. We stand there for another hour, then
leave. Not a word is spoken as we get into the car and drive away. I think my
parents called the police.
Eric breaks the
silence: he saw Burroughs as he was carried out of the house, but I just think
it’s bullshit. Jordan falls asleep on my shoulder.
We are leaving Kansas.
We are leaving Kansas.
