From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [259]
Milt Warden was not only deeply shocked, he was humiliated. It was not that he was not willing to do anything within reason, but he felt that this was asking too much. And so, for the seventh time, he had made up his mind not to see her any more. That was one of the reasons he was drunk.
“Lets eat,” Lt Culpepper commanded, as Pfc Russell turned off the ignition, and switched on his flash. This was the signal for the others to switch on their flashes. “What a miserable fucking place to have to inspect posts in,” Lt Culpepper said bitterly. “You’d think it was about time we got in some junior officers, what with this expansion.”
Warden climbed out, grinning at him savagely. Lt Culpepper looked the other way and started toward the kitchen tent. He did not know what the hell the 1st/Sgt wanted to come over here for anyway. He did not like to be around 1st/Sgt Warden, it made him uncomfortable. Sometimes he had an awkward suspicion that Milton Anthony Warden was mad. He did not seem to give a damn for anything.
Warden waited until Lt Culpepper and Anderson had gone on, and grabbed Pfc Weary Russell by the arm and pulled him back.
“Listen, you son of a bitch,” he whispered fiercely. “If I dont show up to go back on the truck with you bastards, you are to come back here and pick me up at two o’clock, see?”
“But Jesus Christ, Top!” protested Weary Russell, picturing a night of wakefulness sitting in his tent with his watch.
“No back talk,” Warden said. “You heard me.”
“What the hell’re you going to do over here?” Weary Russell said.
Warden grinned at him slyly with his eyebrows.
“Theres no women nor nothing,” Weary said.
Warden merely grinned at him.
“Well, at least gimme a drink then,” Weary conceded.
Warden got the bottle out from under the seat where he had hidden it.
“I may be right here to ride back with you,” he said as Weary drank. “This is just in case I aint, see? But if I aint, and you dont come back for me, I’ll cut your fucking heart out, see?” He clamped a big hand down on Russell’s arm for punctuation.
“Ouch! Okay,” said Weary Russell wearily. “I said okay, dint I? Heres your bottle.”
“Okay,” Warden grinned. “Dont forget, hear? Now take off,” he said, and slapped him hard on the rump to start him. He waited till Russell was out of sight, before he hid the bottle between the roots of a keawe tree and followed.
Stark was sitting in the camp chair when he and Russell came in through the flap. The cook was at the stove with the lieutenant fixing sandwiches for them. Stark did not get up and offer the seat to the lieutenant.
“Hello,” Warden grinned at him ferociously.
“Hello,” Stark said dully. He did not say another word all the time they were there. He did not look at anybody and he did not move his arms from where they dangled over the wood arms of the chair.
Andy left first, carrying his guitar in one hand and a second sandwich in the other. Then the lieutenant left with Russell and the corporal to inspect the posts. Warden stayed in the tent. The cook lay back down on the table.
“Hey, you,” Stark said.
“Who, me?” the cook said, sitting up.
“Yas, you,” Stark said. “Who the hell you think I mean?”
“Now what?” the cook said. “What now?”
Stark jerked his head. “Get out,” he said. “Take off. You make me sick lookin at you.”
“Well, where’ll I go?” the cook said.
“Go to bed and sleep,” Stark said. “You look half dead. I cant stand to look at you. I’ll run the rest of this shift. I’d ruther do that than have to look at you.”
“But what about my day off tomorrow?” the cook said.
“You’ll get your goddam day off,” Stark said. “You lazy bastard. Get the fuck out.”
“Okay,” the cook said, trying to sound unhappy. “If you say so, Maylon.” He was out and gone before anybody could say another word.
“Whats the matter with you?” Warden said.
“Nothing,” Stark said ominousl