From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [336]
“Yeah, but I got to chance that. Thats the ony really dangerous part to it. What I figure is, if I go for him, instead of away from him, toward the woods, he wont shoot; he’ll ony bean me with his riot gun. I figure to fix it as easy as I can for him to bean me. I aint going to really ever hit him, see? just make him think I am.”
“They’ll work you over pretty good, wont they?” Prew said.
“Sure,” Angelo said earnestly, “but what the hell? They wont be getting any cherry. They cant make it any worse than they have already. All they can do is make it last longer, way I figure. And after so long a time you kind of blank out on them anyway, see?”
“Yeah,” Prew said, “I see.”
“I got everything to gain, and all I got to lose is a little more scalp. And the Black Hole part is the least of my worries. I can do that standin on my head, see? 21 days?” he snapped them away with his fingers.
Prew watched him blow it away like milkweed, and thought about it hollowly; 21 days of it, maybe 30 Malloy said, 21 days of bread and water, 21 days of silence, 21 days of blindness; three weeks maybe a month, in the Black Hole.
“A man couldnt pull that trick of yours for that long, could he?” he asked Jack Malloy, “even if he knew how.”
“I dont know,” Jack Malloy said. “I’ve read where its been done for longer. But I wouldnt want to try it.”
“I can cut it,” Angelo said. “With a butterknife. And I dont need The Malloy’s trick to do it.”
“It’ll mean a DD, wont it?” Prew said.
“I dont know,” Angelo said. “And frankly, I dont give a good goddam. I aint never going to work in Gimbel’s Basement no more anyway. What I need with an Honorable? Besides, Jack says they give blue ones with Sections 8s sometimes.”
“Not if the man comes from the Stockade, do they?” Prew said. “Way I understand, any man Section 8ed out of the Stockade automatically gets a yellow discharge.”
“Not always,” Jack Malloy said gently, his face still closed. “I think it all depends on the circumstances and how much of a convincing act the man can put on for them.”
“Thats not how I heard it,” Prew said.
“Well, its a cinch he aint going to get a white discharge,” Angelo grinned tautly, “so what the hell’s the difference? Yellow or blue? Who wants to be a goddam citizen of this goddam country anyway? I’ll go to Mexico. Dont even have to do that. All you lose is the right to vote and pay taxes. Who the hell wants to vote anyway? You cant vote in the Army, can you? Anyway, whoever the hell a man does vote for anyway, its always all the same: They all of them get together ahead of time and figure it out and make their trades and put in the men they want anyway.”
“You cant get a job,” Prew said.
“Who the hell wants a job? They all the same goddam thing. Gimbel’s Basement. You work for some big outfit that takes all the money and gives you just barely enough to live on and punch a timeclock all your life and kiss the boss’s ass for a job you never liked. Who wants that? Not Maggio. I’ll go to Mexico,” he said. “I’ll go to Mexico and be a cowboy or something,” he said wildly.
“I dont know why I’m arguing with you,” Prew said. “Its your deal, and if you’ve figured all that into it, what the hell? I’m for you, Angelo.”
“You think I’m crazy, dont you?” Angelo grinned at him.
“Hell no. Its just that I hate to think of losing my citizenship. I guess I just like this country.”
“I like it too,” Angelo said. “I love this country. Much as you or anybody, and you know it.”
“I know it,” Prew said.
“But I still hate this country. You love the Army. But I dont love the Army. This country’s Army is why I hate this country. What did this country ever do for me? Gimme a right to vote for men I cant elect? You can have it. Gimme a right to work at a job I hate? You can have that too. Then tell me I’m a Citizen of the greatest richest country on earth, if I dont believe it look at Park Avenue. Carnival prizes. All carnival prizes. Pay fifty cents a throw and get a plasterparis bust of Washington—if you win. A man can just stand so much from anything, no matter how much he loves the thing.”
“I’ll buy that,” Prew said.
“Well, I’ve stood all I can stand