From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [495]
“This’ll be the first place they’ll look for us,” Stark said.
“Never you mind. Come on. I know where I’m going.”
Halfway through the alley Warden called, “This way!” and turned left again up the middle of the block, back the way they had come. They passed the back door of the Blue Chancre. Then he ran left over the cinders to the back of the next building where there was a fire escape and began to mount. Stark followed him up and crouching, hearing the urgent whistles down below in the babble, they ran lightly over three or four roofs before Warden stopped.
“Lets see,” he said. “I think this is the one. Yes, its this one here.” He leaned across the three foot chasm of shadows and rapped sharply on a window of the next building. He waited impatiently, then rapped again.
From up here, on the third story roof, they could see the roofs of the whole town below Beretania down the hill, sloping away toward the harbor at the foot of Nuuanu. In the bright sunshine glinting on the deep blue of the water down there, out beyond the upright finger of the Aloha Tower and in the Sand Island channel, a ship was pulling out. One of the Matson liners; the Lurline, it looked like.
Involuntarily surprised, both of them stood and watched it. The big ship slid on, silently and pitilessly, as resistless and impossible to stop as a birthday or a moving clock. The bow was already out of sight behind one of the big bank buildings. They watched it until the whole ship, foot by foot silently, had slid behind it and on out of sight.
“Well,” Stark said raspingly, “are we goin in this goddam place, or aint we?”
Warden swung around and looked at him, his eyes wide and violent, as if he had not known he was there. As if Stark had slipped up on him and he had not known he was there. He looked at him that way a moment, widely, violently, silently. Then he turned to the window and rapped again.
“Who is it?” a woman’s voice said this time.
“Let us in, Gert,” Warden laughed. “The MPs is after us.”
The woman opened the window. “Who is that?”
“Its Milt. Why dont you wash your windows? Come on, get out of the way.”
He stepped from the parapet down across to the window sill and squeezed through. Stark took one more look down at the empty blue bay and then followed him.
They were in a long empty hallway, ending in a big barred metal door. The woman was tall and narrow-faced, of about forty-five or fifty. She wore a beautiful evening gown with a corsage of gardenias at her throat.
“Mrs Kipfer!” Stark said disbelievingly. “Well, shoot me for a Jap.”
“Why, Maylon Stark!” Mrs Kipfer said. “I know this one,” she frowned at Warden. “But I never thought I’d see you coming in the back door.”
Warden laughed uproariously. “Why, Sgt Stark is the hero and savior of the evening, Gert. If it hadnt been for Sgt Stark here and his quick thinking, yours truly might have even got hurt. Who knows? maybe left for dead in one of these rotting Honolulu alleys through which we so elusively eluded the strong arm of the Law and claimed sanctuary in your Church of All Souls.”
“It appears to me you’re hurt anyway.” She stepped closer and inspected his mouth primly, with the efficient reproving air of a trained nurse.
“Oh, Milt! You’ve lost two of your teeth! What a shame. And for what. All for some silly brawl with no purpose but entertainment. When are you going to grow up?”
“I’ll have you know I was defending the cause of chivalry,” Warden grinned at her charmingly. “I was protecting that fairest of all the sexes, the female.” He bowed to her. Warm golden glints in his eyes shone down at her laughingly. “Besides, the Army’ll buy me new ones.”
Mrs Kipfer shook her head hopelessly to Stark. “What are you going to do with one like that?”
“He’s a character, aint he?” Stark said.
“Are you hurt, too, Maylon?”
“No, Maam,