From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [143]
He wandered around, finally finding a tumbler on the stand, one that was full of water that he threw in a solid stream out the window where it hit the screen and sprayed, him saying, “I hope theres a cop under that,” and filled the glass full of whiskey from the bottle. Prew watched him grinning, and feeling ridiculously warm inside, almost fatherly, noticing how the whiskey had slowed Angelo’s normally high agitation down until he seemed to be moving vaguely slowly like a slow motion film, and how this was the first time he had ever seen the tiny, curly headed Wop relaxed.
“That be enough?” Angelo said.
“Hell, yes. I drink all that I’ll be about as much use as a melted candle.”
“Okay. I see you then. See you in the morning. We go somewhere,” he said, “the three of us, and eat a good expensive breakfast before we go back. Maybe we go to the Alexander Young Hotel, ’ey? They open up early and they serve good breakfasts. Breakfast is important,” he said, “after a good night on the town. Okay?”
“Okay,” Prew grinned. “I’ll see you.”
“You like him,” Lorene said, after Angelo had closed the door, “dont you? You like him a lot.”
“Yes,” he said, “I do. He’s such a comical little bastard, and yet somehow he makes me always want to cry while I’m laughin at him; and thats why I really like him. I dont know, maybe I’m nuts. Did you ever feel that way about people?”
“Yes,” Lorene said. “Often.”
“Well, thats something,” he said.
“I feel it about Angelo,” she said, “every time I see him. And I think maybe I feel it about you.”
“Me!”
“Yes. You know,” she said faintly, “you’re a funny one, a very funny one.”
“One funny fellow,” Prew said. “Am I?”
“Yes you are.”
“Arent other fellows funny?”
“Not like you. Not the way you are.”
“Well thats good. Maybe you’ll remember me then.”
“I’ll remember you.”
“Will you? Will you remember me tomorrow?”
“Yes. Next week, too.”
“Will you remember me a month from now?”
“Yes.”
“I dont believe it.”
“But I will though. Truly I will.”
“All right. I believe you. I know I’ll remember you.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“But why? Why will you remember me?”
“Because,” he said, “because of this.” And smiling, he took a corner of her quilt and flipped it off her and looked at her lying there, legs together, feet straight up. hands flat at her sides where the curve of her hips began to swell.
She did not move and turned her head to smile at him. “Is that the only reason?”
“No. Also because you wiggled over to me when Angelo was here.”
“Is that all?”
“Maybe not all. But a lot.”
“But not because of talking to me?”
“Yes, that too. Definitely that too. But this also,” he said looking at her.
“But the talking too?”
“Yes. The talking too. Talking is important.”
“To me it is.” She smiled contentedly at him and took a corner of his quilt that he was still lying under propped up on one elbow looking down at her and flipped it off of him, like he had done to her.
“Why, look at you,” she said.
“I know. Aint it shameful?”
“I wonder what caused that.”
“Cant help it. Does it every time.”
“But it looks very uncomfortable.”
“It can be. Sometimes, it is.”
“Well, we better take care of that. Right now. Dont you think?”
“Yes. I think.”
“Theres only one thing to do with that. Theres only one place to put that.”
“You mean here? There? Right there?”
“Yes. There. Right there. There will take care of it. You think there will take care of it?”
“Yes. Yes. Oh, yes.”
“This is much better, now, isnt it? Than the other time?”
“Much better. Much, much better.”
“To me, too. But why? Why is it better?”
“Because where there were two before, now there is only one. Because we both want to do it.”
“Yes, now we both want it. But still, we are not one person. You cant feel what I feel. I cant tell you what it feels like with you. I’ve always wondered what it feels like, to a man. What does it feel like, to you?”
“To me? Did you ever burn your finger, bad? And then smear it with Unguentine?”
“Yes.”
“And the Unguentine enfolds it softly? How it soothes it? How it stops the burning? Is warm and cool and stops