From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [399]
One of the first things she wanted to know was how he had ever come to know about such a lovely place that was so exclusive and expensive. He gave her some answer, he couldnt remember what, but it didnt make much difference. The motif for the next ten days was already set.
They had two luxurious rooms with eight luxurious walls and the world was not anywhere in evidence. Even during the meals they ate in the dining room to break the monotony of having them all sent up to the suite the world was still not anywhere in evidence, neither in the soft-spoken maître nor the softer-footed waiters and busboys. He even had the hotel-inn, they called it—on his side. They made their living holding the world back out of evidence.
They went riding a number of times back in on the mountain trails. She loved to ride.
They went driving in the U-Drive almost every evening.
Twice they went swimming in the afternoon at Kalama Beach.
And at no time, no where, no how, was there ever any relief from the two rooms and the eight walls. The eight luxurious walls of the two luxurious rooms that he had very carefully sealed so the world could not get in. He had sealed it all right. He had sealed it so tight it would have made a wonderful tomb. In fact, that was just what it resembled, an airtight worldtight, wonderful tomb. What he had overlooked was that after he sealed it they had to open the door to get into it. They brought the world inside with them. By the time the ten days was up he could not remember ever having hated any place so much in his life.
But no. It wasnt the money. He still had over $300, over half of the original $600 left. And it had been hard work, it had been labor, to be able to spend that much, with her giving him holy hell for being so extravagant, just like a wife.
Perhaps if they had had more time then . . .
But no, it wasnt the time either. If anything they had had too much time. Before the third day was over it was all both of them could manage to do just to keep from suggesting that it was time to go home. It had been hard work, it had been labor, for him to keep from paying the bill and packing them up and going home early from what had turned into the debacle of the annual vacation, just like a husband.
What had happened, ironically, was that the fact that they had had to stay hidden for fear of meeting somebody who knew them, had, without their realizing it, approximated on this honeymoon the situation that would exist when the honeymoons were all over, just like a husband and wife.
They were always making each other pay for something. You hurt my pride and I hurt your pride. It use to be you build me up and I build you up, but once the masterpiece had been made it was you tear me down and I tear you down.
She made him pay for having made her love him so much that she had gone off and left her son in the care of a gook maid.
He made her pay for having made him love her so much that he had run out and left his Company in the sausage fingers of Dhom.
She made him pay for having made her a whore.
He made her pay for having made him an officer.
The eight luxurious walls of the two luxurious rooms were still eight walls and two rooms. And sixteen walls and four rooms, or thirty-two walls and eight rooms, even with a furnace, even with an American Kitchen, garbage disposal unit, automatic dish washer, fully equipped bar, glassed in breakfast nook, even with a Bendix washing machine and a rumpus room, it would not in the end really make a whole hell of a lot of difference.
No matter how often you changed that part, the rest would always still be the same forever and ever amen if there be any man present who can show just cause why this man and this woman should not be united in holy matrimony let him speak now or forever hold his peace.
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