From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [291]
“Yeah,” the Chief grinned somberly. “I noticed that. You must of really line yourself up quite a deal with that snatch down town.”
“I aint doin so bad,” Prew grinned expansively. “Not bad atall.—Only trouble is,” he heard his voice saying, “is the goddam rip wants to marry me.”
“Well, hell,” the Chief rumbled philosophically, “she got that much money you be smart to go ahead and marry her, and let her support you in the style to which you would like to be accustomed.”
Prew laughed. “Not me, Chief. You know I aint the marrying kind.”
He walked over to the bar at the north end happily. You liar, he told himself happily, you and your big deals. Well, it was a good deal, a damned good deal, wasnt it? looked at one way. What the hell? A goddam man ought to have the goddam right to goddam dream. “Hey, Jimmy!” he hollered belligerently.
“Hey there boy!” big Jimmy hollered at him from down at the other end of the bar. His broad Kanaka face was grinning through the sweat and his hands opening and passing out cans and bottles as fast as he could pull them out of the cooler. At the other end of the cooler stood the Beergarden guard, always a Regimental fighter from first one outfit then another hired to keep order by the manager in compliance with Post orders, wearing his garrison belt and billy, badges of temporary office, and helping himself to can after can from the depths of the cooler while the helpless Jap manager watched him with frustrated pain on his smooth flat face.
“Gimme four, Jim,” Prew hollered over the rippling field of heads.
“Right,” Jimmy hollered, a grin flashing dazzlingly out of the dark face. “Four beer for four queer.” He brought them down. “Compny smokers you outfit tonight, boy. You no fight?”
“Not me, Jim,” he grinned happily. “I’m scared I’ll git a caulyflower ear.”
“Boy, you a hot one,” Jimmy laughed, wiping his face with a hand like a deep-smoke-cured ham. “You no kid me, boy. I hear you just take at big Jewboy white hope over, eh?”
“Is that the story?” he grinned. “Way I heard it, he took me over.” He could feel through the back of his neck several men pausing to look. Somebody whispered something. It must have spread fast. He did not look around.
“Hah,” Jimmy grinned. “Listen, boy, I see you fight em last year in a Bowl. You good boy. At Jewboy big an he hit hard but he no got the heart. Jewboys never got the heart. You got the heart, eh?”
“Is that the way it is?” he grinned modestly. “How about my four beers.”
“Right here, boy. Sure, way it is,” Jimmy said. “Those Jewboy they better learn who to pick on, eh? I fight again next mont downtown myself, kid.”
The other men were still watching.
“Where at?” Prew said happily, feeling very esoteric. “The Civic?”
“Ats it. Six round semi-windup. Win at one, get a main go. Win a main go, take big trip Stateside to fight What you think of him, eh? Quit this goddam job.”
“Another regular Dado Marino, eh?” Prew grinned.
Jimmy exploded in laughter and swelled his big chest that almost filled up the bar. “Ats me. Make good flyweight-bantamweight, eh?” he laughed. “No,” he said seriously. “Go Stateside, like grandfather. Last name Kaliponi, you know? Jimmy Kaliponi. Name for grandfather take big trip Stateside in old days. Hawaiian language, no f, no r. Cant say California, say Kaliponi. Got to win fight, go Kaliponi like grandfather, live up to name, see it over there, no mo hila-hila, eh?” he grinned. “I like at Stateside, boy, what I hear about em.”
“I’ll come down and see you lay him out,” Prew grinned.
“Good old Civic,” Jimmy said. “Lots of fight. Old Dixie use to fight Civic all a time. Remember old Dixie? My good frien, Dixie. Plenty good boy, eh?”
Prew felt a big hollow open up suddenly under the happiness and suck it down out of him. He reached for the beers.
“Yeah,” he said, “plenty good boy.”
Jimmy was shaking his head, the big laughing face suddenly sad. “Too plenty bad about Dixie go blind like that.” It was the first time he had ever mentioned it to Prew. “You have tough time, boy, tough luck. You good frien like that. Too plenty