From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [245]
“Are you callin me a goddam queer?” Bloom said, getting up, keeping his balance by holding a rib above his head. “Watch how you talk to me, you crummy little Wop.”
“Kiss my ass,” Friday said suddenly, startled by his own audacity.
“Why, goddam you.” Bloom leaned forward, hanging by his left hand on the rib and grabbed him by his shirt front and jerked him up and shook him, the slender Friday’s head and arms flopping loosely like a shaken rag doll.
“Leave me alone, Bloom,” Friday stuttered. “Leave me alone. I didnt do nothing to you, Bloom.”
“Take that back,” Bloom said, shaking him. “Take it back.”
“Okay,” Friday gargled, flopping. “I take it back.”
Prew stood up, holding another rib for balance, and grabbed Bloom’s wrist and bent his thumbnail in hard on the tendon.
“Let go, you son of a bitch. He dont take nothing back. Do you, Friday?”
“Yes,” Friday gargled. “No, I dont know.”
Bloom’s hand opened under the thumbnail pressure and Friday fell back limply on the seat, his eyes wide with fear, and Bloom and Prew stood in the truck bed swaying, looking at each other, each trying to keep his balance by holding with one hand on a rib above him.
“Yeah, and you’re another one I’ve got my eye on,” Bloom sneered. “If you’re such a hot shot fighter why dont you go out for fighting?” He looked around the truck. “If you’re such a tough son of a bitch, why aint you on the boxing squad?”
“Because theres too many cocksuckers like you on it, thats why.”
They stood swaying, staring, neither one able to concentrate on his staring properly because he had to use all his concentration to keep his balance.
“Someday you’re going to make me mad,” Bloom said.
“You’re kiddin,” Prew said.
“Right now I got more important things to worry about,” Bloom said. He sat back down.
“Any time you’re ready,” Prew said. “And I’ll give you plenty of time to take your shirt off, too.” He sat back down himself.
“Thanks, Prew,” Friday said.
“Ahhh,” Prew said. “Listen, Friday,” he said loudly, looking at Bloom, “if that son of a bitch picks on you any more dont fool with him. Pick up a chair or a bar and crown him like Maggio did.” He was boiling that Bloom should have ignored the taboo that made Friday Off Limits and a sort of Company mascot, any more than anyone would hit the village idiot boy.
“Okay, Prew,” Friday gulped. “Anything you say.”
“Yeah,” Bloom snorted. “Do that. And you’ll end up the same place Maggio ended up.”
“Through no fault of yours,” Prew amended.
Bloom hunched his shoulders contemptuously then, and turned back to Moore, the other NCO candidate who was of his own status, the great indignant rage fading off his face as suddenly as it had come, to be replaced by the astonished anxiety of outrage that had been there before, as if he had suddenly remembered he was being carried downtown against his will, to be investigated as a queer.
“Jees,” he muttered tensely to the other, “I sure hope this here dont get us kicked out of the School.”
“Christ,” the other said nervously, “me too.”
Bloom shook his head. “Guy has to watch his step, things like that.”
“Thats right,” the other said. “I never should of went down there in the first place.”
They were almost to the branch highway to Pearl and Hickam Field by then. The two trucks roared slowly in through Honolulu, keeping to the back streets as much as possible, running around the northern outskirts on Middle Street, past the church that had the big red electric sign above it: JESUS, COMING SOON!, and then east on School Street, but still having to come down Nuuanu right through town to get to the city police station, where the recon was parked at the curb as they pulled in.
Pedestrians on Nuuanu and Queen Streets coming and going from the docks where a new tourist liner was pulling in amidst many leis and a band playing in the bright morning sunshine, stopped to stare at them, probably thinking there must be another sabotage