From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [262]
“Hey, you really mean it?” Slade said eagerly. “I wasnt hinting or anything like that. I didnt even expect I’d get to come over.”
“We’d be glad to have you,” Prew said.
“Hey, I’d love it,” Slade said. “But I’m on post now. Wont be off for a half hour yet.”
“Well, I guess we could wait on you,” Prew said. “If you really want to come over, that is.”
“Hey, that would be fine,” Slade said. “Would you really do that?”
Prew moved his head. “Sure. Dont see why not. If you really like that kind of music. It wouldnt discommode us none to have you. We’re not every good,” he said, “but if you want——”
“I think you’re terrific,” Slade said.
“Hey, Slade!” Friday interrupted. “Theres a car coming down your road over there!”
Slade whirled. “That will be Sergeant Follette,” he said. “This makes the third time he’s been around since I came on.”
“Maybe its our truck,” Prew said.
“No it aint,” Friday said. “Already passed our turnoff.”
“Its Follette all right,” Slade said. “He has been trying to hang something on me for a couple months now and get me kicked off the guard and back to mowing grass.”
“He got it in for you?” Prew said.
“Yeah,” Slade said. “He dont like me because I told him he was a pompous ass once and he had to look it up in the dictionary.”
“You better get back over there then,” Prew said.
“Yeah,” Slade said. “Dont I know it. I’ll see you fellows in a half an hour, okay?”
“Yeah.”
“You wont forget it now?”
“No.”
“You better get back over there,” Friday said nervously, watching the steadily advancing headlights.
“Yeah,” Slade grinned. He turned and started to run across to the road where the headlights were steadily creeping up past his margin of safety. Then he stopped and turned back.
“You know, you guys dont know what it means to have gotten to talk to you fellows. I dont get to talk to fellows like you guys often that understand how a fellow feels. They dont have real comradeship in the Air Corps, not like you fellows in the Infantry, not the old all-for-one and one-for-all. They’re not comrades-in-arms.—You’ll really be here in half an hour, wont you?” he said embarrassedly.
“Hell yes,” Prew said. “We said we would. For Christ’s sake get the hell back over there.”
“Thanks,” Slade said. “Gee, thanks. Thanks a lot, Prewitt.” He turned and sprinted for the road, holding down his flapping holster and the bouncing club.
Prew took hold of a rusty spiral picket and watched him go, fading into invisibility in the darkness, and both of them waited tensely. Then they heard the shouted challenge and saw him again in the light of the headlights that had stopped moving now.
“Whew,” Friday said. “I dint think he was goin to make it.”
“Neither did I.” He let go of the picket and looked at the rust marks on his hand, then wiped them on his pants. “Son of a bitch is a goddam fool taking chances like that.”
“He dint much seem to care,” Friday said. “He’s a pretty smart fella, you know it. He sure thinks a lot of the Infantry.”
“Well? the Infantry’s a pretty goddamned good outfit, aint it? Compared to the others.”
“Sure it is,” Friday said. “The Infantry hikes all day, and drinks and lays up with the cunts all night, and then hikes all day the next day. I’m glad I’m in the Infantry and not in no goddam Air Corps.” He slapped at a mosquito.
“Come on,” Prew said irritably. “Lets get out of here. These goddam things will eat us up alive.”
“Aint we going to wait for him?”
“Wait in the goddam kitchen tent, and come back for him. I aint going to stand out here no goddam half hour, thats sure.”
“Okay,” Friday said, “okay.”
The Coleman lantern was still burning in the kitchen tent, but the tent was empty except for the cook and the corporal who had relieved The Chief. The cook was asleep on the table. The corporal was half asleep in the one camp chair. His head jerked up when they came in.
“What is it?” he said. “Is the lootenant—Oh,” he said. “Its you guys. What the hell are you doing up? Oh,” he said, seeing the guitar. “Might know,” he said. His head dropped back down, in slow stages.