{"id":"01KG6FVH1Q847PG562T23VTE0Q","cid":"bafkreihlhmaweb6ly7aqmcjx3qfvstk4y4533yrohwqi66regvouzyafje","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":2033,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T03:41:20.744Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 8","source_file":"01KG6FT59BXAZ3C5HRJ6SW8F58","start_line":1981,"text":"the time, for instance. That doesn't sound like much, I realize, but she was terrific to hold\nhands with. Most girls if you hold hands with them, their goddam hand dies on you, or\nelse they think they have to keep moving their hand all the time, as if they were afraid\nthey'd bore you or something. Jane was different. We'd get into a goddam movie or\nsomething, and right away we'd start holding hands, and we wouldn't quit till the movie\nwas over. And without changing the position or making a big deal out of it. You never\neven worried, with Jane, whether your hand was sweaty or not. All you knew was, you\nwere happy. You really were.\nOne other thing I just thought of. One time, in this movie, Jane did something that\njust about knocked me out. The newsreel was on or something, and all of a sudden I felt\nthis hand on the back of my neck, and it was Jane's. It was a funny thing to do. I mean\nshe was quite young and all, and most girls if you see them putting their hand on the back\nof somebody's neck, they're around twenty-five or thirty and usually they're doing it to\ntheir husband or their little kid--I do it to my kid sister Phoebe once in a while, for\ninstance. But if a girl's quite young and all and she does it, it's so pretty it just about kills\nyou.\nAnyway, that's what I was thinking about while I sat in that vomity-looking chair\nin the lobby. Old Jane. Every time I got to the part about her out with Stradlater in that\ndamn Ed Banky's car, it almost drove me crazy. I knew she wouldn't let him get to first\nbase with her, but it drove me crazy anyway. I don't even like to talk about it, if you want\nto know the truth.\nThere was hardly anybody in the lobby any more. Even all the whory-looking\nblondes weren't around any more, and all of a sudden I felt like getting the hell out of the\nplace. It was too depressing. And I wasn't tired or anything. So I went up to my room and\nput on my coat. I also took a look out the window to see if all the perverts were still in\naction, but the lights and all were out now. I went down in the elevator again and got a\ncab and told the driver to take me down to Ernie's. Ernie's is this night club in Greenwich\nVillage that my brother D.B. used to go to quite frequently before he went out to\n\n\nHollywood and prostituted himself. He used to take me with him once in a while. Ernie's\na big fat colored guy that plays the piano. He's a terrific snob and he won't hardly even\ntalk to you unless you're a big shot or a celebrity or something, but he can really play the\npiano. He's so good he's almost corny, in fact. I don't exactly know what I mean by that,\nbut I mean it. I certainly like to hear him play, but sometimes you feel like turning his\ngoddam piano over. I think it's because sometimes when he plays, he sounds like the kind\nof guy that won't talk to you unless you're a big shot.\n12\nThe cab I had was a real old one that smelled like someone'd just tossed his\ncookies in it. I always get those vomity kind of cabs if I go anywhere late at night. What\nmade it worse, it was so quiet and lonesome out, even though it was Saturday night. I\ndidn't see hardly anybody on the street. Now and then you just saw a man and a girl\ncrossing a street, with their arms around each other's waists and all, or a bunch of\nhoodlumy-looking guys and their dates, all of them laughing like hyenas at something\nyou could bet wasn't funny. New York's terrible when somebody laughs on the street very\nlate at night. You can hear it for miles. It makes you feel so lonesome and depressed. I\nkept wishing I could go home and shoot the bull for a while with old Phoebe. But finally,\nafter I was riding a while, the cab driver and I sort of struck up a conversation. His name\nwas Horwitz. He was a much better guy than the other driver I'd had. Anyway, I thought\nmaybe he might know about the ducks.\n\"Hey, Horwitz,\" I said. \"You ever pass by the lagoon in Central Park? Down by\nCentral Park South?\"\n\"The what?\"","title":"Chunk 8"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6FV13CF8EYK8ZH4S5HFGWW","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6FT59BXAZ3C5HRJ6SW8F58","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KFF1K6A8V452X8SQKY55DD16","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6FVH1Q9S1PRFET3BBWMGBS","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG6FVH1QEDZWR8HWKP70701R","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T03:41:23.383Z","ts":"2026-01-30T03:41:29.581Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}