Cool Hand Luke - Donn Pearce [49]
Cause you gotta be cool. That’s part of the job.
After awhile we got tired of playin‘ soldier. So we went sailin’. We sailed to England. We sailed to Africa. We sailed to Sicily. But it seemed like no matter where we went folks kept shootin‘ at us. We kept tellin’ ‘em that we were the good guys. But they kept right on shootin’. Then we sailed to Italy. They took us out in this here big iron boat and put us in this little iron boat. And we kept sailin‘. And they kept shootin’. And I sat up on top of a big old tank in this here landin‘ craft so’s I could see what was goin’ on. Get a good luck at all them bad guys. And them bad guys was mad. Shootin‘ guns all over the place. Things blowin’ up. Water splashin‘. Airplanes flyin’ around. Everybody scared. So I played my banjo a little bit. And I sang to them boys. And I told ‘em. I come from Alabama. Oh, yeah. With a banjo on my knee.
And they saw me up there, pickin‘ away and not gittin’ shot. And they figured things weren’t so bad. So they perked up a little and weren’t afraid no more.
Cause you gotta be cool. That’s all. Remain refrigerated.
Later on the colonel he heard about how I could pick a banjo and all and he figures that’s pretty hot stuff. So he give me this here extra medal that he didn’t need. A star, he said. Bronze star. Like they make statues with.
Every weekend Luke would play and sing for us and we gathered round and listened. We listened carefully because we knew that this was the way it was, that when that banjo spoke to us, it was telling the truth.
And that old banjo had really been around. You could tell just by looking at it. It was a classic frontier model with a very long neck and four strings which Luke played in the same plectrum style that his family had for generations. The head was made of split calf skin, the fret board inlaid with bits of colored wood and mother of pearl that formed the suits of a deck of cards—spades, hearts, diamonds and clubs. According to Luke it had been made by Bacon and Day sometime before the Civil War.
One of the lower frets had once been repaired with a wooden plug. But the back of the hole in the neck was still rough and splintered, the result of the same bullet that had made the long scar along Luke’s left side and hip as he sat one morning in an olive grove a few kilometers north of Salerno. Luke sat on the porch steps one Sunday and told us the story just as he told us many others.
So this here war went on and on. And the soldier business was really boomin‘. Never seen so many bad guys. They were all over the place. In uniforms. In overalls. Even in dresses. Every time we took over a town the folks would come out with flowers and music. Everybody kissed everybody. Lots of real fine wine. Then this here committee would jump up. These would be the good guys who were hidin’ out while the bad guys were around. Then they’d start draggin‘ these here collaborator people out of their houses. Got along good with the bad guys. So they lined ’em up by the courthouse wall. Preacher said a few words. And then bang bang. After that they hung ‘em up by the feet. Everybody stood around and made fun of’em hangin‘ there that-a-way. Upside down and all. Especially the women. Dresses hung clean down over their heads. Real dead too.
After that the good guys were even again. Everybody had some more wine. Played some more music. Kissed everybody.
But I kept pickin‘ and pluckin’ and playin‘ it cool.
Then we walked some more and dug some more holes. And waited. And shot guns. Houses got on fire. Guys got killed. People ran around with wagons and bicycles and wheelbarrows. Everytime we set up a field kitchen a whole bunch of people