From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [140]
The talkative soldier stopped talking and smiled at Lorene sadly. “Well,” he said to her. “An Infantryman who is also a wit.”
“At least I’m not a goddamned Coast Artilleryman who is also a surfboarder,” Prew said. “Are you going to screw her or aint you?”
Stiffly Lorene turned clear around to stare at him again, this time not severely but horrifiedly, as if he had just crawled up out of a hole in the mud.
Prew grinned at her. “Well? Are you?” he asked Bill.
“Did you want to go to the room, Bill?” Lorene said, “with me? There is plenty of time if you do, honey.”
“Well,” Bill said. “Sure. I guess. I think that would be better perhaps, dont you? The air in here seems to have gotten very smelly, hasnt it?”
“Yeah,” Prew said deliberately. “I noticed that too. You son of a bitch.”
“Listen, fellow . . .” Bill started.
“Shall we go then?” Lorene interrupted him. “I see no point in remaining here, do you? Come on, Bill,” she said, taking his hand with virginal shyness. “The sooner we go, the more time we’ll have together, Bill.”
“All right,” Bill said. He let her lead him out. At the door she stopped just long enough to give Prew a very disapproving look and to let him see her smile tremulously shyly at Bill.
Prew grinned at her. “Dont forget to show her the snapshots of your new surfboard, Bill,” he called after them.
Then, when they had gone, he let the grin drop off. He leaned back in the chair. He slid down in it until he was sitting on the back of his waist with his chin on his chest. Big Time Operator Prewitt. Who reads off all the other poor unfortunate bastards like himself who are so hungry to talk to a woman they willing to come to a whorehouse and pay three bucks to do it. Really showed him up, dint you? how he would take everything off of you and still not fight. Wanted to fight him bad, didnt you? you who make your brags about never checking a cinch into the next man, you who are so high and mightily humanitarian you cannot allow yourself to fight for Dynamite’s bloody boxing squad. Killer Prewitt, horny fisted veteran of a thousand battles. Blood makes you sick, doesnt it? You really looked good in there, Killer. You were truly championship material, werent you, Caveman? She ought to admire you a lot now. You really made a great impression on her, with your virility and fifteen bucks I bet she’d even go all night with you. And that was all you wanted, wasnt it, Killer? All you wanted was what she puts out for a living, wasnt it, Caveman? You didn’t want her admiration, or friendship, or closeness, or interest, or intimacy, or whatever the fuck they call it, the part they keep and dont put out for a living, did you? No, of course you didnt. Who ever wants the interest or admiration of a whore?
Across the room Maggio and the tall long legged Sandra were bidding a fond farewell to two sullen sailors. Did they want the interest of a whore? Sure not, thats why they’re sullen, with plenty others in the next room.
Little Billy was sitting on Stark’s lap with her mouth to his ear talking feverishly. Did Stark want the admiration of a little hot-eyed whore? Of course not, thats why he’s grinning so complacently. Man, you kill me, you really knock me out. Killer Prewitt, the Boy Wonder.
“How you doing, buddy?” Stark grinned at him swimmily. “You got it all fixed up?”
“Yeah,” he said. “All fixed up. Fixed up swell.”
Maybe you better take up surfboard riding, Killer, he thought.
“Did you tell her about gettin the three rooms together?” Stark asked him.
“No,” he said. “I forgot to ask her that.”
“We got it fixed up anyway,” Stark said. “Its okay. But dont forget to tell her when she comes back, or you’ll miss out on the dew.” Then little Billy bit him on the ear and he jerked his head and cursed, then laughed, then brought his wide-swinging attention back to her, where she wanted it.
“I wont forget it,” Prew said, to nobody. “I wouldnt want to miss out on anything. Anything but that, but missing out on something.