U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [356]
the jingle of the engineroom bel . He looked out the port-hole and saw a yel ow and white revenuecutter and, be-yond, vague pink sunlight on frame houses. The fog was lifting; they were in the Narrows.
By the time he'd splashed the aching sleep out of his eyes and run up on deck, the Niagara was nosing her way slowly across the greengrey glinting bay. The ruddy fog was looped up like curtains overhead. A red ferryboat crossed their bow. To the right there was a line of four-and fivemasted schooners at anchor, beyond them a square-rigger and a huddle of squatty Shipping Board steamers, some of them stil striped and mottled with camouflage. Then dead ahead, the up and down gleam in the blur of the tal buildings of New York.
Joe Askew came up to him with his trenchcoat on and his German fieldglasses hung over his shoulder. Joe's blue eyes were shining. "Do you see the Statue of Liberty yet, Charley?"
"No . . . yes, there she is. I remembered her lookin'
bigger."
"There's Black Tom where the explosion was."
"Things look pretty quiet, Joe."
"It's Sunday, that's why."
"It would be Sunday."
They were opposite the Battery now. The long spans
of the bridges to Brooklyn went off into smoky shadow behind the pale skyscrapers.
"Wel , Charley, that's where they keep al the money. We got to get some of it away from
'em," said Joe Askew, tugging at his mustache.
"Wish I knew how to start in, Joe."
They were skirting a long row of roofed slips. Joe held
-8-out his hand. "Wel , Charley, write to me, kid, do you hear? It was a great war while it lasted."
"I sure wil , Joe."
Two tugs were shoving the Niagara around into the
slip against the strong ebbtide. American and French flags flew over the wharfbuilding, in the dark doorways were groups of people waving. "There's my wife," said Joe Askew suddenly. He squeezed Charley's hand. "So long, kid. We're home." First thing Charley knew, too soon, he was walking
down the gangplank. The transportofficer barely looked at his papers; the customsman said, "Wel , I guess it's good to be home, lieutenant," as he put the stamps on his grip. He got past the Y man and the two reporters and the member of the mayor's committee; the few people and the scattered trunks looked lost and lonely in the huge yel ow gloom of the wharfbuilding. Major Taylor and the John-sons shook hands like strangers. Then he was fol owing his smal khaki trunk to a taxi-cab. The Johnsons already had a cab and were waiting for a stray grip. Charley went over to them. He couldn't think of anything to say. Paul said he must be sure to come to see them if he stayed in New York, but he kept standing in the door of the cab, so that it was hard for Charley to talk to Eveline. He could see the muscles relax on Paul's jaw when the porter brought the lost grip. "Be sure and look us up," Paul said and jumped in and slammed the door.
Charley went back to his cab, carrying with him a last glimpse of long hazel eyes and her teasing smile. "Do you know if they stil give officers special rates at the Mc-Alpin?" he asked the taximan.
"Sure, they treat you al right if you're an officer. . . . If you're an enlisted man you get your ass kicked," an-swered the taximan out of the corner of his mouth and slammed the gears.
-9-The taxi turned into a wide empty cobbled street. The cab rode easier than the Paris cabs. The big warehouses and marketbuildings were al closed up. "Gee, things look pretty quiet here," Charley said, leaning forward to talk to the taximan through the window.
"Quiet as hel . . . . You wait til you start to look for a job," said the taximan.
"But, Jesus, I don't ever remember things bein' as quiet as this."
"Wel , why shouldn't they be quiet. . . . It's Sunday, ain't it?"
"Oh, sure, I'd forgotten it was Sunday."
"Sure it's Sunday."
"I remember now it's Sunday."
NEWSREEL XLIV
Yankee Doodle that melodee
COLONEL HOUSE ARRIVES FROM EUROPE
APPARENTLY A VERY SICK MAN
Yankee Doodle that melodee
TO CONQUER SPACE AND SEE DISTANCES
but has not the time come for newspaper proprietors to join in a wholesome movement for the purpose of calming troubled minds, giving al the news but laying less stress on prospective calamities