U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [443]
"Now look here, Mr. Anderson, you always treat me good
. . . from way back Long Island days. You know me, do work, go home, keep my face shut.""What's on your mind, Bil ? . . . Want me to try to wangle another raise for you?
Check."
Bil shook his heavy square face and rubbed his nose with a black forefinger. "Tern Company used to be good place to work good work good pay. You know me, Mr. Anderson, I'm no bolshayvik . . . but, no stoolpigeon either."
"But damn it, Bil , why can't you tel those guys to have a little patience . . . we're workin'
out a profitsharin'
scheme. I've worked on a lathe myself. . . . I've worked as a mechanic al over this goddam country. . . . I know what the boys are up against, but I know what the management's up against too. . . . Gosh, this thing's in its in-fancy, we're pouring more capital into the business al the time. . . . We've got a responsibility towards our inves-tors. Where do you think that jack I made yesterday's goin' but the business of course. The oldtime shop was a great thing, everybody kidded and smoked and told smutty stories, but the pressure's too great now. If every depart-ment don't click like a machine we're rocked. If the boys
-313-want a union we'l give 'em a union. You get up a meeting and tel 'em how we feel about it but tel em. we've got to have some patriotism. Tel 'em the industry's the first line of national defense. We'l send Eddy Sawyer down to talk to 'em . . . make 'em understand our problems." Bil Cermak shook his head. "Plenty other guys do that." Charley frowned. "Wel , let's see how she goes," he snapped impatiently.
"Gosh, she's a honey."
The roar of the motor kept them from saying any more. The mechanic stepped from the controls and Charley
climbed in. Bil Cermak got in behind. She started taxiing fast across the green field. Charley turned her into the wind and let her have the gas. At the first soaring bounce there was a jerk. As he pitched forward Charley switched off the ignition. They were carrying him across the field on a stretcher. Each step of the men carrying the stretcher made two jagged things grind together in his leg. He tried to tel
'em that he had a piece of something in his side, but his voice was very smal and hoarse. In the shadow of the hangar he was trying to raise himself on his elbow. "What the devil happened? Is Bil al right?" The men shook their heads. Then he passed out again like the juice failing in a car.
In the ambulance he tried to ask the man in the white jacket about Bil Cermak and to remember back exactly what had happened, but the leg kept him too busy trying not to yel . "Hay, doc," he managed to croak, "can't you get these aluminum splinters out of my side? The damn ship must have turned turtle on them. Wing couldn't take it maybe, but it's time they got the motor lifted off me. Hay, doc, why can't they get a move on?" When he got the first whiff of the hospital, there were a lot of men in white jackets moving and whispering round him. The hospital smelt strong of ether. The trouble was
-314-he couldn't breathe. Somebody must have spilt that damned ether. No, not on my face. The motor roared. He must have been seeing things. The motor's roar swung into an easy singsong. Sure, she was taking it fine, steady as one of those big old bombers. When he woke up a nurse was helping him puke into a bowl.
When he woke up again, for chrissake no more ether, no, it was flowers, and Gladys was standing beside the bed with a big bunch of sweetpeas in her hand. Her face had a pinched look. "Hel o, Glad, how's the girl?""Oh, I've been so worried, Charley. How do you feel? Oh, Charley, for a man of your standing to risk his life in practice flights . . . Why don't you let the people whose business it is do it, I declare." There was something Charley wanted-to ask. He was scared about something. "Say, are the kids al right?
""Wheatley skinned his knee and I'm afraid the baby has a little temperature. I've phoned Dr. Thompson. I don't think it's anything though."
"Is Bil Cermak al right?"
Gladys's mouth trembled. "Oh, yes," she said, cutting the words off sharply. "Wel , I suppose this means our dinnerdance is off. . . . The Edsel Fords were coming."