From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [48]
“Did you like it?” Violet asked.
“No,” he said. “I dint. But I’ve lived in a hell of a lot worse places since.” He rolled over on his back and watched the sun flickering down through the leaves of the trees. He felt the Saturday afternoon on-pass feeling come down and sweep over him, like leaves do in the fall, back home. Life does not begin again till Monday morning, it whispered. If only all of life could be like this, he whispered. If only all of life could be a three-day pass.
That was a pipedream, Prewitt. He took a drink from the bottle and handed it to Violet. She drank, propped on her elbows, staring down at the houses. She drank the straight whiskey the same way he did, as if it were only water.
“Its terrible,” she said, still staring down. “No one should ever have to live in place like this. My Poppa and Momma come here from Hokkaido. Not even this house is theirs.” She handed back the bottle to him and he caught her arm and pulled her over. He kissed her, and for the first time she returned it, putting her hand on his cheek.
“Bobbie,” she said. “Bobbie.”
“Come on,” he said, turning. “Come here.”
But Violet held back, looking at her cheap wrist watch. “Momma and Poppa will be home any time.”
Prew sat up in the grass. “What difference does it make?” he said irritably. “They wont come up here.”
“Its not that, Bobbie. Wait till tonight. At night is the time for that.”
“No,” he said. “Any times the time for that. If you feel like it.”
“Thats just it,” she said. “I dont feel like it. They’ll be coming home.”
“But they know we sleep in the same bed at night.”
“You know how I feel about Momma and Poppa,” Violet said.
“Yes, but they know it,” he said. Then he wondered suddenly if they did. “They must know it?”
“Its different in the afternoon. They’re not home from work yet. And you’re a soldier.” She stopped and reached for the bottle on the grass. “I graduated from Leilehua High School,” she stated.
You never completed the seventh grade, he told himself. He had seen Leilehua High School in Wahiawa. It was only another high school.
“So what if I am a soljer?” he said. “Whats wrong with a goddam soljer? Theres nothin wrong with a soljer, that isnt wrong with anybody else.”
“I know it,” Violet said.
“Soljers are only people, just like everybody else,” he insisted.
“I know it,” Violet said. “But you dont understand. So many Nisei girls go out with the soldiers.”
“So what?” he said, remembering the song. Manuelo Boy, my dear boy, no more hila-hila, sister go with a soldier boy, come home any old time.
“All the soldiers want to screw them,” Violet said.
“Well, they go out with civilians, too. Thats what they want. Whats wrong with that?”
“Nothings wrong with it,” she said. “But a wahine girl must be careful. A respectable Nisei girl doesnt go with soldiers.”
“Neither does a respectable white girl,” Prew said, “or any other kind of girl. But they’re no different than the goddam Pfcs. They all want the same goddam thing.”
“I know it,” Violet said. “Dont get mad. Its just the way the people look at the soldiers.”
“Then whynt your folks run me off? or do something? or say something? If they dont like it.”
Violet was surprised. “But they would never do that.”
“But, hell. All the neighbors see me comin here all the time.”
“Yes, but they would never mention it either.”
Prewitt looked over at her lying on her back in the dappled sunlight, and the short tight legs of her shorts.
“How would you like to move out of here?” he asked carefully.
“I’d love it.”
“Well,” he probed, “you may get a chance to soon.”
“Except,” Violet said, “that I wont shack up with you. You know I cant do that.”
“We’re shacked up now,” he said. “The only thing different from all the other shackjobs is that you’re livin with your folks.”
“It makes all the difference,” Violet said. “Theres no use to talk ab