Beat Space. Tommaso Pincio

to reinforce the idea, not altogether subliminally, that buying a book from Quantum meant setting off on a great journey and that a pretty girl was by your side, ready to guide you. What’s more, the name orientress, containing the word Orient, blanketed the whole affair in exoticism and colored the cashier’s “helpfulness” with a winsome mystery, which certainly didn’t hurt.

      Before enlisting the literary help of one of the ladies, one generally stood for a few minutes near a sign that said: “Please wait behind the yellow line for the next available Orientress.” On that late-spring day of theirs, Jack and Neal didn’t have to wait. They had parked themselves outside the bookstore at dawn and there was no debating they were the first customers. All the orientresses were available—they had their pick, whichever they found simply a slight bit more captivating than the others, because they were all captivating in their paper-white suits, their names printed in Times New Roman on the right breast of their blazers.

      The choice, which later revealed itself to be a true leap into the Void of destiny, was Neal’s, making his way toward a certain specular-mouthed Marilyn Monroe with the mysterious resolve of a man possessed. She had reflective lipstick on her lips and specular spray on her teeth and tongue: the same makeup worn by Modernella Jane, famed host of a television show of the same name. Unfortunately, information about this Monroe is rather sparse, but historians have ascertained that this was already her third job. She had previously worked as a hostess at a fair dedicated to aluminum. Combined earnings: ten dollars. After that she was recruited to wear a new line of women’s sport lingerie but almost immediately lost the position. “Subject too eye-catching. Not suitable as a mannequin. The public looks at her without noticing what she wears,” read the note the human resources director had filed, proposing the termination of Ms. Monroe’s employment. The note additionally shows that the human resources director had initially used the expression “has too much sex-appeal,” which he had then replaced with “too eye-catching.” Anyway, both definitions give a pretty clear idea of Ms. Monroe’s particular brand of potential. This potential, which her reflective mouth certainly emphasized, explains why Neal Cassady never had any doubt as to his choice. Despite it being an integral part of a popular television personality’s look, the specular makeup was in fact still considered very risqué. It was Ms. Monroe, who was having some trouble choosing: which of their eyes she should read.

      “Good morning, gentlemen. Whose eyes shall I read?” Ms. Monroe said to Jack Kerouac and Neal Cassady, trying not to be influenced by the unkempt beards, the rings under the eyes, the feverish manner, or by other, telling details which belied the wild—to put it mildly—nature of the duo.

      “Both, darling. Both our eyes,” Neal Cassady said. “We are both driven by the same motivation but even without that motivation we were both drawn to you anyway. Because there’s always a reason hidden in the motivations that drive us and you are the proof.”

      “I understand. But which of you gentlemen intends to purchase a book?”

      “I give in, I give in I swear,” Cassady went on. “I always give in in front of a mirror.”

      “I don’t believe I follow, sir. I asked you which of you intends to purchase a book. I wasn’t trying to offend anyone . . .”

      “Offend?”

      “Yes, pardon me but I must ask which of you is interested in purchasing a book so I can know whose eyes I should read. That’s the rule.” And this, in effect, was the rule: orientresses were required to look into the customer’s eyes without looking away until the conclusion of the purchase.

      “If we are to assume that the prologue to this whole discussion and also to every aspect of our existence is that we have for some time been exiles from the continent of rules, it seems clear to me for obvious reasons that my friend, Jean Louis de Kerouac a.k.a. Jack, and myself couldn’t ask for anything more than to read your eyes. If I’ve reflected the meaning of your words . . .” Next, trying to actually read her eyes and sighing, Neal Cassady said, “Baby!”

      “Reading someone’s eyes is just a sales metaphor, if I’ve reflected the sense of your misunderstanding . . .”

      Jack had begun to worry that the situation was about to evolve into the absurd and therefore the unpredictable and therefore guaranteed trouble. Neal opened his mouth to reply but Jack beat him to it: “We want to buy a stellar atlas.”

      “Excellent choice,” said Ms. Monroe.