From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [129]
“I think,” Mrs Kipfer smiled, “that I shall call you Prew. May I?” as she led them from the big wide entryway to the right, on across the narrow hall, and through the doorway to the waiting room.
“Sure,” Prew said, seeing women now at last, not the women he had seen in his mind outside, but still at least women. “Nobody calls me by my first name.”
There were seven of them in the waiting room, one standing with a soldier at the Wurlitzer, two sitting talking to two sailors. The other four were sitting by themselves, three of them the fat gum-cud-chewing cows wearing the one piece short suits and all looking alike, three that would always sit by themselves, not caring, except when they were thrown into action, still not caring, as reserves during the big Payday attack. But the fourth sitting one was not like them; she was a slight brunette wearing the full length gown of the better grade, and sitting very poised and quiet with her hands clasped serenely in her lap, and he found that he was watching her.
He had already seen, with the experienced eye, that the four slim ones, the better grade of which the slight serene brunette was one, all wore full length gowns with the handy full length zippers, separating themselves consciously from the three fat gumchewing ones. He had already deduced, by this, that it was like all the others, this place, no different, pay your three bucks at the window, take your piece and leave, in spite of all he had heard about this one that was the Company hangout being the best. He had seen all that at once, but still he found that he was watching her, who was so obviously different even from the other three of the better grade.
“This is Maureen,” Mrs Kipfer said, as one of the two of the better grade sitting with the two sailors got up and came over to them at the door, a thin, sharp nosed blonde with the dark triangle of hair showing through the thin material of the long blue gown.
“Prew is new here,” Mrs Kipfer told her, “you will introduce him around, wont you, dear?”
“Sure, dear,” the blonde said, huskily sarcastic, and put her arm around Prew’s neck. “Cmon, Babyface. Hello there, old Stark, old kid,” she cried and grabbed for his crotch. “You got a present for me?”
“Watch it,” Stark grinned, ducking back. “Or I wont have.”
Mrs Kipfer smiled sweetly. “Maureen’s our little hustler, arent you, Maureen dear?”
“Thats how I make my livin, dear,” Maureen said sweetly. “I hustle. And I admit it.”
Mrs Kipfer, still smiling sweetly, turned back to Prew. “You mustnt think we’re rushing you, Prew. We want you to look around as long as you like. We want you to be satisfied with your friend. We arent crowded at all tonight, and there is plenty of time, isnt there, Maureen dear?”
“Sure, dear,” Maureen said. “All the time in the world. I cant give you romance,” she said directly to Prew. “But if a good lay is what you want I’ve got it, Babyface. Ask Stark, Stark’s laid me. Am I a good fuck, Stark?” she said, “or not?”
Mrs Kipfer looked as if she were about to vomit. She turned on her heel and went back out into the hall.
“Good,” Stark said. “But mechanical.”
“Why goddam you,” Maureen laughed, triumphantly. She grabbed Stark happily by the arm and pulled him to the Wurlitzer. “Just for that, you can play me some music.”
Mrs Kipfer came back, then, to Prew still standing in the doorway.
“We have so much trouble getting good help anymore,” she said apologetically. “This peacetime draft back home has hurt us terribly over here. You cant know how much. I’m completely helpless, at the mercy of whatever the agency condescends to send me.”
“Sure,” Prew said. “I can see that.”
“Didnt she even introduce you to anyone?” Mrs Kipfer rushed on breathlessly. “Didnt she make you acquainted with anyone?”
“No,” Prew said. “Not to a soul.”
“Oh, dear,” Mrs Kipfer said. “Dear, dear. Well,