From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [215]
“Okay,” Tommy said. “But for Christ’s sake quit making a play for him. He’s not the intellectual type. Are you, Prew dear?”
“Probably not,” Prew said. “Since I never finished the seventh grade.”
“Hal’s a French teacher,” Maggio put in. “He works in a sort of private school, for rich men’s kids.
“Tommy’s got a job someplace downtown. He never talks about it. Where do you work, Tommy, anyway?” Maggio said. He shook his head again, vigorously, and winked at Prew.
“I’m a writer,” Tommy said.
“Sure,” Maggio said. “But you work too, dont you?”
Hal laughed delightedly.
“At present,” Tommy said stiffly, “I am holding down a job. But its only until I get enough money ahead to devote all my time to my art. And as far as my job goes, I’d rather not talk about it. I dont like it anyway.”
“Even I dont know where he lives,” Hal said. “He wont tell me anything. Personally, I dont care who knows about me. In fact, its almost expected of a French teacher. Thats one of the reasons I like being one.
“And incidentally, I am a private tutor. I hold private classes and tutor individuals, but not at any school. Or any ‘sort of’ school.” He smiled at Angelo. “But as I said, as long as I do not mix business with pleasure, these horrible missionaries’ descendants dont bother me. In fact, I think they rather like the idea, secretly. Its supposed to be wordly and sophisticated, you see. And of course, I’m not an Oscar Wilde; I dont have a yen for hairless infants; so that they neednt fear for their offspring.”
“Lets have another drink,” Maggio said. “We walked all the way out here from town.”
“Why didnt you call me up?” Hal said. “I would have come after you.”
“We wanted to walk,” Maggio said. “To get up a thirst.”
Hal motioned for the waiter. “Garçon. Another round, please. Sometimes, Tony, I think you are only playing me for what you can get out of me.” He turned to Maggio with a sweet almost boyish smile. “Sometimes I think if I didnt buy you things you would drop me like a hot rock. Perhaps that is why I love you so.”
“Ah, you know that aint so, Hal,” Maggio said. “Hey, look,” he said. “Theres Bloom and Andy, Prew. I told you the Compny’d all be down here.”
“Not so many today,” Hal smiled, “as in the middle of the month.”
Prew looked over where Angelo was pointing. Bloom and Andy in slacks and gook shirts had just come in with five other men, none of whom Prew knew. They took a big table in a corner of the terrace, Bloom holding forth loudly, his big arms waving when he talked, him leaning tensely across the table toward another man.
“Dear Bloom,” Hal said. “He’s dropping down the ladder rung by rung. I shouldnt be surprised if he committed suicide one day.”
“He’s too much of a pig,” Tommy said. “He’s not that sensitive. But I love that cute little guitar player he drags around with him. He’s really sweet, but Bloom wont let any one get near him.”
“Bloom’s dating Flora now,” Hal said sadly. “See that big effeminate blond across the table? Thats Flora.” He turned to smile at Prew with his bright excited eyes. “I imagine you had some such female conception of us before you met us, did you not?”
Prew watched the blond run his hands carefully over his marcelled hair and then, moving his hands, his big white fluttering hands, elaborately, get up and walk lumpily, swaying big-hippily, to the men’s room. “Yes,” he said. “I did.”
“I suspected as much,” Hal smiled. “Well, we are not actors. We do not have to get our kicks out of acting like women. In fact, the less I see and hear of women the better. Of all the things I dislike, I hate women worst.”
“But why hate women so much?” Prew said.
Hal made a face. “They’re evil. So domineering. And so sickeningly confident. Did you know this country is a true matriarchy? Evil,” he said, “evil as sin. And nasty. So wet and soppy and nasty. God,” he said.
“If you hate religion, how come you believe in sin?” Prew said. “I’d think it’d be just the opposite.”
Hal looked at him and raised his brows. “I did not say I believed in sin. I think you misunderstood me.