Interestingly enough, the only woman Jack Kerouac ever actually took with him on the road wasn’t me or Edie Parker or Carolyn Cassady or any of the dark fellaheen beauties of his longings, but Gabrielle L’Evesque Kerouac, age sixty-two, with her bun of iron-grey hair and her round spectacles and her rosary beads in her old black purse.
