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By Root 14021 0

the thing you want, not in any whorehouse, you who talk about a piece of ass so glibly, as if it held the answer. You were a goddamned stupid fool to ever let Violet get away from you, he thought bitterly, wishing now he had not forced the issue, had had some sense, wondering what she was doing tonight, right now. Maybe you didnt have the thing you’re always looking for, but at least you could have gone up there once a week; or once a month even. Way it is now you aint got even that. All you got now is the old round, the whorehouses where you never find it either, plus the absence of the money that it costs you to look there and that you have to scrounge for and then never get, except on Payday when they’re all so crowded that if you dont get your gun off in three minutes you have to take a raincheck. At least with Violet you had a woman. Maybe you could go back and see her and explain it, but even as he thought it he knew it would be useless, that it was past, that she had already found another soldier, or maybe even one of her own race. That was what she really wanted. Maybe you should have married her. Sure, maybe you should have stayed in the Bugle Corps, too, I guess? Maybe you’ll never find the thing it is you’re looking for? he thought and turned to go back up.

Andy and Sal Clark were still in the latrine, playing casino on the worn wood bench thats grain was raised and weathered by the shower water that was always getting splashed on it.

“Bloom was back while you was gone,” Andy said, looking up from his hand.

“Yeah?” Prew said, feeling very indifferent now. “What’d he want?”

“Lookin for somebody to borrow fifty cents from for taxifare to town,” Andy said sullenly, looking back down.

“Well? Did you loan it to him?”

“Why would I loan it to him?” Andy said indignantly. “You think I’d run out on you?” Then he looked up and saw Prew was kidding him, and his voice dropped back down. “We ony got eighty cents between us,” he muttered. “I loan him four bits, we wouldnt have enough to go to the show.”

“I thought maybe you loaned it to him,” Prew teased. “You’re the richest joe around here now, outside of Angelo.”

“Well I dint,” Andy said. “If thats what you think. And anytime you want your money back, just ask for it and I’ll give it to you.”

“Hell no,” Prew said happily. “Wont do me any good.”

“I s’pose you’re goin to town with Angelo,” Andy asked him, sulkily.

Prew turned to look at the hurt tone in his voice. “If he wins,” he said.

Andy looked at Sal significantly. “Thats what we figured.”

“You figured what?” Prew said, and walked down to them and stood in front of Andy. “If anybody did some figurin, it was you, I’ll bet, not Sal. Anything wrong with me goin with Angelo?”

“I guess not,” Andy shrugged elaborately. “Except a guy dont usually take off on his pals who’s broke.”

“You mean you think I ought to stay here and go to the show with you? because you cant go to town?”

“I dint say that,” Andy said defensively. “Bloom wanted me to go to town with him tonight.”

“Well go ahead,” Prew said serenely. “If thats whats eatin you. That wont hurt my feelins any. I dont care who you go to town with. Whats Friday goin to do?”

“He can go to the show by himself,” Andy said. “I’m ony takin four bits taxifare.”

“Man,” Prew said. “You’re a hot one.”

“I aint goin to the show,” Friday said happily. “I’m ona save at thirty cents and stay right here and teach myself how to deal these cards, by god.”

“Well,” Andy said, “thats up to you. You got the money. You can go if you want to.”

“What’re you guys goin to do in town?” Prew said. “If I may ask?”

“Just fool around.”

“You wont fool very far, takin only four bits taxifare. What’ll you do after you get there? How’ll you get back?”

“Well,” Andy said. “Bloom’s got a queer lined up out in Waikiki he thinks we can roll, a guy with quite a bit of dough.”

“I wouldnt go,” Prew said, “if I was you.”

Andy looked up indignantly. “Why not? Its easy for you to say. You’re goin down with Angelo.”

“Because Bloom’s lyin to you, thats why. How long you been in Wahoo? You oughta