From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [254]
“Hell yes,” Prew said. “We said we would. For Christ’s sake get the hell back over there.”
“Thanks,” Slade said. “Gee, thanks. Thanks a lot, Prewitt.” He turned and sprinted for the road, holding down his flapping holster and the bouncing club.
Prew took hold of a rusty spiral picket and watched him go, fading into invisibility in the darkness, and both of them waited tensely. Then they heard the shouted challenge and saw him again in the light of the headlights that had stopped moving now.
“Whew,” Friday said. “I dint think he was goin to make it.”
“Neither did I.” He let go of the picket and looked at the rust marks on his hand, then wiped them on his pants. “Son of a bitch is a goddam fool taking chances like that.”
“He dint much seem to care,” Friday said. “He’s a pretty smart fella, you know it. He sure thinks a lot of the Infantry.”
“Well? the Infantry’s a pretty goddamned good outfit, aint it? Compared to the others.”
“Sure it is,” Friday said. “The Infantry hikes all day, and drinks and lays up with the cunts all night, and then hikes all day the next day. I’m glad I’m in the Infantry and not in no goddam Air Corps.” He slapped at a mosquito.
“Come on,” Prew said irritably. “Lets get out of here. These goddam things will eat us up alive.”
“Aint we going to wait for him?”
“Wait in the goddam kitchen tent, and come back for him. I aint going to stand out here no goddam half hour, thats sure.”
“Okay,” Friday said, “okay.”
The Coleman lantern was still burning in the kitchen tent, but the tent was empty except for the cook and the corporal who had relieved The Chief. The cook was asleep on the table. The corporal was half asleep in the one camp chair. His head jerked up when they came in.
“What is it?” he said. “Is the lootenant—Oh,” he said. “Its you guys. What the hell are you doing up? Oh,” he said, seeing the guitar. “Might know,” he said. His head dropped back down, in slow stages. His eyes shut.
The cook on the table sat up irritably. “What the hell do you guys want? This aint no goddam all night restaurant. You suppose to eat when you go on post or when you come off. And thats all.”
“We dont want to eat,” Prew said.
“You woke me up,” the cook said.
“But we’ll take a cup of coffee?” Prew said.
“Like hell,” the cook said indignantly. “How you expect me to get any sleep, guys comin in all hours. You aint got no business in here unless you getting ready to go on post.”
“A cup of coffee aint going to bother you any,” Prew said.
“Like hell,” the cook said angrily. “Its already bothered me. Its woke me up. I aint no goddam——”
The corporal’s head came up again, and his eyes opened on nothing. Then he looked at the cook. “Shut up, will you?” he said, “for god sake? Its you thats makin all the noise. Leave them have a cup of coffee, long as they be quiet.”
“A lot you know,” the cook said indignantly. “Oh, balls,” he said, and stretched back out.
“Go ahead and get your coffee,” the corporal said. “But be quiet.” His head dropped in slow stages and his eyes shut, on nothing. He settled himself blissfully.
The coffee was still hot and they stood against the warm stove while they drank it.
“We better get there early,” Friday whispered nervously. “He come back and we aint there he liable to think we ditched him.”
“Okay,” Prew whispered luxuriously, “pretty soon,” not wanting to think about the stumbling back down along the wire through the dark without a flash and the slapping at the clouds of mosquitoes that would be rising from the grass at every step.
They sipped at the coffee in the breathing silence.
“We better go soon,” Friday whispered nervously.
Prew set his cup down. “Goddam it, come on then,” he whispered. “Lets get it over with.”