From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [256]
“Come on,” Prew said. “We almost there.”
At the truck gap through the wire Slade came inside, and they cut back straight for the kitchen tent, Prew leading. It was exactly the same inside as when they had left it. The cook sat up as they came in.
“Now what?” he cried. “Jesus Christ. This aint no pleasure resort. Who the hell is that guy?”
“A friend of ours from the Air Corps,” Prew said, coming on inside. “He’d like a cup of coffee.”
Friday stopped just inside the flap and backed against the tautness of the wall, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.
“A cup of coffee, hunh?” the cook said. “What does he think this is, the Red Cross?” he said.
“How about a sandwich, cookie?” Prew said doggedly.
“A sandwich!” the cook said. “A SANDwich!”
“Sure,” Prew said doggedly. “To go with our coffee.”
“Mother of God,” the cook said. “A sandwich.”
“You got the meat and stuff already all laid out there,” Prew said. “We fix it ourself and save you work.”
“Oh, no,” the cook said. “No, sir. Not on your goddam life. To hell with that noise. Them rations is for the Third Relief.”
“Friday’s on the Third Relief,” Prew said.
The corporal sat up in his chair and looked at all of them disgustedly. “What the hell is this? Grand Central Station? I aint going to get no goddam rest in here. I might as well go inspect my goddam posts.” He elbowed his way out bitterly past Friday and went out through the flap.
“I aint running no mess hall for the whole of Hickam Field, Prewitt,” the cook said. “My god.”
“You got plenty,” Prew said doggedly.
“Like hell,” the cook said. “And I give you guys a sandwich and every son of a bitch and his brother will be wandering in here all hours of the goddam night for sandwiches. I wont never get no sleep.”
“You’re off all day tomorrow,” Prew said doggedly. “You can sleep then. All day. We’ll be on post.”
“I’m goin to town tomorrow.”
“What the hell has got into you all of a sudden, cookie?” Prew said. “You never act like this before.”
“I didnt?” the cook said blankly.
“Why hell no. What kind of a impression you think you making on the Air Corps? acting like this all of a sudden. And here I been telling what a fine kitchen force we got.”
“Like hell,” the cook said, recovering. “I say no sandwiches. And thats all. You got nerve, coming in here like a goddamned officer and demanding sandwiches. And just for the record, no coffee neither, see? You just had coffee.”
“What you want to get temperamental for all of a sudden?” Prew said puzzledly. “You never turned us down before.”
Friday gasped, then coughed.
“Yeah?” the cook jeered, not taken in this time. “No sandwiches.”
“If they want sandwiches,” a voice like the clap of doom said thickly from the flap behind them, “give them sandwiches.”
As one man the three of them turned, even Friday turned, to see what the cook was already staring at so unbelievingly.
Maylon Stark stood just inside the flap like the hero of the melodrama come on stage at the last possible second of the last scene of the last act, to save the situation. The deepset purple crescents under his eyes were puffy with sleep, and his face was fat with puffiness. His voice was thick with it and his uniform looked very slept in. Dangling from his right hand was a bottle.
“Why hello, Maylon,” the cook smiled apprehensively. “What are you doing up at this hour?”
“As long as I run this goddam Mess,” Stark said thickly to no one, “there will be sandwiches and coffee for night guards, any time they want it.”
“And I agree with you, Maylon,” the cook said stoutly. “One hundred percent. But these guys aint goin on post nor comin off, they just wanderin around, when they ought to be in bed asleep. One of them aint even from the Company, he’s from Hickam Field. Howm I ever gonna get any sleep, I got to feed the whole of Hickam Field.”
“You aint supposed to sleep,” Stark said thickly. He looked around solemnly and then marched stolidly sedately as a row of fenceposts to the vacant camp chair and sat down heavily, staring at nothing. A strong smell of raw whiskey wafted through the tent.
“You aint suppose to sleep, and you aint going to sleep. You get all day off tomorrow to sleep, because you stayin up all night tonight. You want to work tomorrow, you can sleep now.”
He turned his hea