From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [144]
“Yes, yes.”
“Thats how it feels, with me. How does it feel to you?”
“With me? With a woman? Oh, did you ever have your ear itch? deep down inside? And you put a twist of cotton on a toothpick to get at it?”
“Yes.”
“And how you try to reach it with it? But you are afraid to go too deep, somehow? You want to, but you are afraid it is a thing you ought not to do, somehow?”
“Yes? Yes, tell me. Tell me all of it. I want to hear.”
“So then, you go as deep as you dare go in there. You go clear deep down inside after it. But you never get quite deep enough to touch it, oh, never quite to the bottom of it. The ear keeps right on itching, away inside. You relieve it some, a little, and the relief is very satisfying. But still it only tantalizes you, a pleasant torture.”
“Yes? Go on?”
“Thats all. Thats how it is with a woman. When she really wants it. But only when she really, truly wants it. When she doesnt want it, it is like doing the same thing when the ear does not itch. You know, I have never done this before, talking like this, and doing it.”
“Havent you? Ever? Not even once? With anyone?”
“No, never. With no one. Ever.”
“But you wanted it? before? With others?”
“Yes. Some. Not for a long time though. Not for a long time like it can be, with a woman, when she really wants it.”
“You mean like now?”
“Yes. Oh, yes. Like now, when she really wants it. Really, truly, absolutely wants it. Needs it. Like now. Oh, now. Please, now. Right now, now.”
“No. No, wait. Please wait.”
“Oh, no. Now. I cant wait. Even a little. Maybe I can, a little. Oh, no. I cant. Oh, now.”
“All right then, now. Now now now, O Jesus, Holy Jesus, now.”
“Did you?” he said. “You did. Didnt you?”
“Oh, yes,” Lorene said. “Oh, I did. Not for a long time, have I. But really, oh, I did. Really and truly and completely.”
“I wanted you to. Oh, I needed you to,” he said gratefully, and he bent his head down for her lips.
“No,” Lorene said. “Dont do that. Please dont.”
“But why? Why not?”
“Because I’d rather you wouldnt. Because it would spoil it, and I dont want to spoil it.”
“All right,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Dont be sorry. Its all right. But you must remember where we are. You must remember who I am.”
“To hell with that. I dont care about that.”
“But I care about it. It would make it like all the others, all the drunks, all the brutal ones. All of them, they all try to kiss you, as if in that way they could get something that all the rest dont get.”
“Yes,” Prew said. “Yes, I guess thats right. I guess thats what they want, isnt it? I’m sorry.”
“Theres nothing to be sorry for,” Lorene said. “Its just I didnt want it spoiled. Not now. You’d better move now,” she said. “Move. Move over. This towel is ruined.”
“It should be. I wouldnt be much surprised if the sheet is, too.”
“Thats what I’m afraid of. I cant change it. Minerva handles all that and she’s gone home now.”
“To hell with it. I like it that way. We’ll sleep in it. Be good for us. I like it. Its only you and me.”
“It looks like we’ll have to,” Lorene said. “But I dont like it.” She got up with the sodden towel, to take it to the granite basin, then to take the smaller basin from the stand of vials and bottles and squat over it and he could smell the hospital smell of Lysol.
“I wished you liked it,” Prew said.
“Ugh,” Lorene said.
“But its only part of you and me, parts that have mingled, that are one now, that can never be separated, ever.”
“It smells,” Lorene said. “Ugh.”
“Yes,” he said, sitting up so he could see her on the floor. “It smells. Like rich, leaf moldy, fresh plowed, mountain earth on a windy, warm Spring day. One alone, mine at least, smells rotten, like death. But both together, mingled, smells like life.”
Lorene stood up, finished, and smiled across at him. “Prew,” she said, “little Prew boy, who is such a funny one. I’m sorry about when you wanted to kiss me, little Prew boy.”
“Its all right.”
“No, its not. But I cant help it. Its not you, its because of—this place. And of the others. You dont understand.”
“I understand it.”
“H