From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [295]
“Nope,” Prew said. “I aint.”
“Could you prove he pulled a knife on you?”
“I reckon they could take a couple sledgehammers and bust open the garbage rack and find the blade down in the crack where I broke it off for him.”
Warden rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Culpepper might just do it,” he said. “Nobody else would. But Culpepper wants to make a big splash since this is his first case. He might just do it. Its worth a try. Are you going to tell him about it?”
“No,” Prew said. “I dont think I am.”
“Why the hell not? Its worth a try.”
“Well,” Prew said. “I kind of hate to break up their little party. They couldnt try me for Bloom, and The Treatment dint work, and they’ve got this one pretty well fixed up now. I busted it, they’d have to start all over again.”
Warden laughed suddenly. “I bet Old Ike is sweatin blood about now.”
“No he aint. I wish he was, but he aint. He already believes his own story by now. Maybe Wilson and Henderson dont believe it yet, but Old Ike does, I bet.”
“I guess thats so,” Warden said. “And Wilson and Henderson never sweated blood over nothing, have they?” He rubbed his unshaven chin with his hand. “I got to shave,” he said abstractedly. “I aint had time the past day or so. You know,” he said, “maybe you ought to tell Culpepper about it. Maybe it would be a good thing if you did. Hell, I might even be able to get a couple of them busted out of it.”
“No,” Prew said. “Not with Holmes in there pitching. He’d get them out of it some way. They’d just twist it around and use it themselves, someway. They’ve got the high ball up and the switches all open. If they goin to railroad me, they aint goin to get the satisfaction of seeing me squirm for them and put on a show. I can take everything they can all of them hand out, and come back for more, Top. Fuck them.”
Warden did not say anything then for a long time. When he got up from the bunk there was an oddly strange squint in his light blue eyes in the deeply tanned face. “Maybe you’re right,” he said. “Anyway, its your show and you got a right to run it however you want.”
Prew felt he could see a respect in Warden’s eyes as they looked at each other and neither one said anything, neither one needed to say anything, an understanding on the big man’s face that made him feel proud, because for some obscure reason he valued that respect more than he valued anybody else’s respect, although he could not explain why, and that was what he had wanted and why he had told him, and now he was proud that he had had it.
“They can kill you,” he said, “but they cant eat you, Top.”
Warden slapped him stingingly on the shoulder. It was the first frank gesture of friendship he had ever seen The Warden make toward him, or toward anybody else. It warmed all through him like a drink. It was worth three months in any Black Hole in any Stockade. His face stayed stolidly impassive.
“See you later, kid,” Warden said, and started out toward the line of bars with the open door of bars, down at the other end of the one long single room that was the lockup. Prew laid the cards back down and watched him.
“Warden?” he called. “Would you do a favor for me?”
The big man turned around. “Any time,” he said. “If I can.”
“Will you go down to Maunilani Heights for me and tell—Lorene for me why I cant make it down?” He could not, he found, call her Alma even to Warden. He gave him the address.
“Why dont you write her a letter?” Warden said. “I dont want to go down there. Every time I go around women they all fall for me and folly me around like a friggin sheep. I’m gettin kind of tired of it,” he said, his eyebrows quivering. “And besides, I like you too well to risk it. I dont want your woman.”
“Well,” Prew said tightly, “call her up on the phone for me then.” He gave him the number.
“If I did,” Warden said, “as soon as she heard my voice she’d probly try to make a date with me. And I’m scared I wount have the will power to refuse.”
“All right,” Prew said doggedly. “Then go