From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [103]
“I just come to say so long,” Preem said awkwardly. “You dont mind?”
“Me? Hell no,” Stark said. “Help yourself.”
Preem walked around the walls. He looked up at the high shelves and down at the low, all of them crowded with cans and sacks. He put his hand on a No. 10 can of pineapple. He punched a 100 lb sack of sugar.
“You’ll need to restock on flour,” Preem said. “Dont forget it.”
“I wont,” Stark said. “In fact, it was me pointed it out to you.”
Stark did not go back to his work. He sat motionless, watching Preem intently, waiting. Preem closed the doors into the KP room and then came back to the homemade desk.
“Well, Stark, its all yours,” Preem said. “And you can have it.”
“Thanks,” Stark said dryly, the deep crease down the right side of his mouth fixed and unrelenting.
“I’m gettin what I deserve,” Preem said, “and I know it. I got no complaints.”
“Well now thats fine,” Stark said.
Preem ignored him. “I’m through,” he went on. “You think you got a good break, Stark. And maybe you have. You just moved in, and this heres your first permanent berth. You makin a lot of changes and you snappin these people up, just like they ought. Its new and you like it. It looks like rosy.”
Preem paused, and with what seemed a great effort put his foot up on a crate and leaned on his knee.
Stark said nothing.
“I was the same way when I got my first mess,” Preem said. “You cant see nothin bad ahead. But when the new wears off is when you’ll see it. In six months Holmes’ll find himself a new fair-haired boy; Warden’ll have a new iron to burn. Then you’ll have to fight for ever spud you get. They’ll be too many people puttin their oar in and tellin you how to run your mess. They cramp you ever way you turn.
“It wears you down after a while. After one hitch there aint no hotshot mess sergeant. And its the same ever place you go.
“I’m sober, Stark. I’ll be drunked up tonight, but I’m sober as a judge right now.
“I dont hold no grudge because I’m gettin what I deserve. I aint makin excuses neither, but a man can only take so much and then he gets tired. It wears you down. Its hard to see somethin you love patchworked by politicians. After twenty years service, I’m goin back to bein a buckass private in the rear rank.”
“You werent no hotshot mess sergeant down at Bliss,” Stark said. “You was just a cook, like me. And you got this rating the same way I got it: you come up here and pushed some other guy out of it, because you been at Bliss with Holmes.”
“Thats right,” Preem said, “a guy who never done me no harm in his life. A man thats smart will get out before its too late. Its too late for me. Its better to be a buckass private in the rear rank all a time, rather than go back to it after twenty years. Drill at eight and Fatigue at one. Be smart, Stark, and get out. Thats my advice to you.”
“I aint never been smart,” Stark said.
“I know,” Preem said. “And I aint expectin you to be. But I told you. Theys some men is smart and theys others that aint. Them thats smart gets on in life, and them that aint buys out.”
“Buy out,” Stark said. “And then what?”
“I don’t know,” Preem said. “They got you comin and goin. But a young man’s at least got a chance. But I never bought out, and you wont neither.”
“I said I wasnt smart,” Stark said. “Anyways, you cant buy out no more, with this war comin on.”
“Thats right,” Preem said. “But whenever a man likes somethin, he caint take cover. You got a cut on your eye, thats what the other man tries to hit. If you love the kitchen like I loved the kitchen, then you ought to get out of it and do straight duty. If you liked straight duty, then you ought to get in the kitchen. If clerkin’s what you hate, then thats what you ought to do. That way you’re safe, you’ll be a success then, you’ll get the ratings and you’ll keep them, because you wont have