Battle Cry - Leon Uris [165]
“Come again on that last one.”
“Everybody’s ass is busted, you ignorant farmer.”
“Pecuniary strangulation. That’s a good one.”
“Hey,” L.Q. beamed, “I got a sensational idea.”
“Well you better give out. The liberty train goes in an hour.”
L.Q. walked to Levin’s cot and sat beside him. “Levin, old buddy.”
“I told you birds I’m broke.”
He put an arm about Levin. “Understand, Levin, I wouldn’t ask this of you but this is a dire emergency. How about cutting a couple heads of hair and floating us a small loan?”
“Aw, L.Q., I got blisters all over my feet.”
“We’ll fix you up a nice comfortable chair, old buddy.”
“Well, I don t know…”
“The way I figure,” L.Q. calculated rapidly, “we’ll give a bargain price of a shilling a haircut.”
“But…”
“That’s the only way we can round up anybody this time of the month.”
“Yeah, Levin, if we charge two shillings we won’t get no customers.”
“I ain’t looking for none.”
“If you was a buddy you’d do it without a second thought.”
“Well, cousin, what the hell you expect of a draftee?”
“Fugg you guys and save six for pallbearers,” Levin shouted.
“Yep, if he was a Canal buddy it would be different. We’ll just have to call off our dates.”
“Don’t take it so hard, Seabags. We’ll see them again. Pay call is in a week. But by then they’ll probably be shacked up with Eighth Marines.”
“Aw, for Chrisake,” Levin said, “get some guys, I’ll cut their hair.”
“Now that’s a real buddy,” Seabags said.
“Yeah. Just twenty guys is all we’ll need. We’ll be able to swing it if we don’t have to take them to chow.”
“Twenty haircuts! Nuttin doin’, besides, I can’t get them done in an hour.”
“Don’t worry about that. We’ll get them lined up for you, Levin, and we’ll collect in advance and shove off. All you got to do is cut their hair.”
“Twenty! I’ll be cutting to taps.”
L.Q. was already on the catwalk running up and down yelling, “Haircuts, a shilling a cut! Nothing on the cuff. Over at the radio shack! Last chance!” The bargain-seekers poured from their tents.
They were indulging in their favorite pastime—trying to give Levin the red ass. Seabags, Danny, Speedy, Mary and me were on our sacks polishing and cleaning as usual.
“Lend me some skin bracer, Levin.”
He reached into his handmade locker and passed it over. “Don’t forget where you got it.”
“Hey, Levin. How about a shirt?” another asked.
“I only got two clean ones left.”
“All I want is one.”
“Here, and wash and iron it before you return it.”
“Hey, I hear the Dodgers lost again yesterday.”
“They don’t belong in the league.”
“They stink.”
Levin’s face reddened.
“Hey, Levin. Got any Kiwi polish? I’m plumb out.”
“You guys is always out of everything.”
“What did you say?”
“I said, here is the goddam polish!”
“You don’t have to yell, Levin, I ain’t deaf. While you’re at it lend me your Blitz cloth.”
“Did you hear what Noel Coward said about Brooklyn guys?”
“Naw, what’d he say?”
Levin turned purple.
“Can’t remember. Hey, Levin, what’d Noel Coward say about Brooklyn?”
“Eat it,” Levin spat.
“Hey, Levin, got an extra pair of socks?”
Levin threw open the top of his seabag and dumped it over, the contents strewn all over the deck. “Take it! Take it all!” He stomped towards the tent flap, leaving us laughing.
“Don’t go away mad, Jew boy,” Speedy said.
Levin spun and started for Speedy. He cut short and walked from the tent.
“What the hell you have to say that for?” Danny asked.
“Don’t look at me,” Speedy said. “You guys started it.”
“We was just trying to have us a little fun, cousin. You shouldn’t of said that,” Seabags said.
“What’s the difference? I don’t like kikes.”
Marion put his rifle aside. “I think we’d better have a little talk, Speedy.”
“What’s biting your ass?”
“What has Levin ever done to you?”
“I said I just don’t like Jews. We make it plenty damned rough for them in Texas.”
“You’re not in Texas,” Danny said. “Levin’s a nice guy.”
“If you don’t like Jews,” Seabags said, “that’s your business. I don’t feel one way or the other about it personally. But the guy does a good job and he’s an O.K. boy. We got enough