The Naked and the Dead - Norman Mailer [171]
That was the thing, Minetta decided, you had to get back first. He could see himself at all the parties; what a hit he'd make. The girls would be looking for men, and he was gonna play hard to get. Rosie'll come across this time, he said to himself. He was going to take it easy when he got back; a guy was a sucker to take a job where he worked his balls off. What did work ever do for a guy?
Lying motionless for so many hours, he began to be bothered by sexual fantasies. The tent was becoming hot from the sun again, and he lay in a pleasurable welter of heat and sweat. He progressed through long seduction scenes, creating them in detail, remembering with little shudders of passion how firm the ripple of flesh above Rosie's waist had felt. Rosie's a good kid, he said to himself, I'm gonna marry her one of these days. He remembered her perfume, and the shiny exciting line of her eyelashes. She put vaseline under them, he decided, but it's all right when a girl knows all the tricks. He was beginning to think of the women he had had at different Army posts, and his fantasies transferred to them; he began to count the women with whom he had coupled. Fourteen, that's pretty good for a guy my age, there ain't many who can beat me. He drifted off into sexual reverie again, but it was becoming painful. They're all easy to get; all you got to do is shoot 'em a little line, tell 'em you love 'em. A dame's a sucker who gives it to a guy. He began to think of Rosie again, and he became angry. She's cheating on me; that letter where she said she wasn't dancing with anybody till I get back is a crock of. . . I know her, she likes to dance too much. If she lies on something like that, she probably lies on everything. He became jealous, and to vent his frustration he shrieked suddenly. "Get that Jap!" It was such an easy thing to do. He shrieked again.
The orderly got up from his chair, approached him, and put a hypodermic in his arm. "I thought you were quieting down, Jack," he said.
"The Jap," Minetta screamed.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." The orderly turned away and sat down again. Minetta fell asleep in a short while, and didn't awaken until morning.
He felt doped the next day. He had a headache, and his limbs were numb. The doctor passed by without even looking at him, and Minetta was enraged. The goddam officers, they think the whole Army is just set up for them to have a good time. He had a deep resentment. I'm as good as anybody else; why should some sonofabitch give me orders? He twisted uncomfortably on his cot. It's a conspiracy. He felt a vague bitterness at everything. The whole world's a trick; if you're not on top you just get the shitty end of the stick. Everybody's against you. He thought of how Croft had looked at his wound and laughed. He don't give a damn about anybody, he'd just as soon see us dead. Something of the pain and shock and bewilderment he had felt when the bullet had struck him was returning to him now. He was really afraid for the first time. I ain't goin' back to that. They'll shoot me first. He moved his lips. You never know when you're safe. That's no way to live. He brooded through the afternoon. In two days he had gone from mirth to boredom to resentment, and he was becoming a little desperate. I'm a good man, he told himself, I'm noncom material if they'd give me a chance, but not Croft. He likes to look at a guy and size him up right away. He kicked his blanket away. What should I work and break my ass for? I could do the job but there's no future in it. They got a good case if they think I'm going to work for nothing. He thought of the time in training when he had led the platoon in drill. There wasn't a soldier who could beat me, he thought, but you lose your ambition. I'm becoming a bum now. I know too much, that's my trouble. It ain't worth working for, 'cause the Army never gives you a break anyway. He became sad at this, and thought with a wistful pleasure of how his life had been ruined. I know what the score is, I'm too smart to waste my time trying for anything. When I get out of the Army I won't know what to do with myself. I won't be able to work, I'll be a failure. All I'll want is to go around tail-chasing. He turned over on his face. What the hell else is there in life? He sighed. It's like Polack says, the only thing to do is to get yourself a racket. This gave him a vindictive pleasure, and he imagined himself in prison, a killer, while tears of pity came into his eyes. He turned over again nervously. I got to get out of here. How long they gonna keep me without even looking at me or paying any attention? They gotta move me outa here soon or I'll really flip my lid. The stupidity of the Army amused him. They're gonna lose a soldier that way, just 'cause they don't give him any care.