Redemption - Leon Uris [208]
“I know just the experienced woman who will bring him along properly.”
“No. I want someone with a young girl’s face and body. Someone who looks sweet and innocent. Maybe bring her into the kitchen to work and let Chester think he’s made her on his own.”
“Yes…of course…they start young here. But why do you want him deceived? He will know she is a prostitute sooner or later.”
“Chester wants to be deceived. Let him believe he’s in love before he goes to war.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s never received a letter from home or anywhere else. He’s sixteen. Maybe you know a girl who wants to be in love with a soldier boy as well.”
“You are more than a brother,” Sonya said. “He will meet Shaara.”
“I love you, Sonya Clipclopian.”
“You worry over everyone to make certain they are happy. You said, ‘Find someone for Jeremy to keep him from being sad.’ I find her. But what about yourself, Serjeant Rory?”
“I’m healing,” he said making the mistake of looking into Sonya’s eyes. Jaysus, what Egyptian women can do with their eyes! It must have been all those centuries of working behind a veil. They thought with their eyes, flirted, sang, danced, spoke, flashed anger…. No missing the meaning in Sonya’s eyes. She was voluptuous and she knew the art of hips and cleavage and how to show just enough belly…just to him…and those eyes.
“I’m healing,” he muttered.
“I am healer,” she said.
“Not yet,” Rory said.
In a few weeks Sonya had come to think of them as her boys. Not a single one of them pissed or defecated on the floor. What was so utterly amazing was the way they cared for each other dearly without being perverts…and the way Serjeant Rory saw to their peace and comfort.
Only Johnny Tarbox showed irritation now and then, and always after lovemaking. When he was there, Rory was on him quickly and finally Johnny quit acting out.
They arrived either in the morning or evening, from one to four of them. Once in every week or so all five were together overnight and it was party time.
There was abundance of laughter, such that Sonya could not believe. Realizing they were going to be respectful to the villa and not wreck it, she introduced them to the water pipe. Unknown to the gaffers, she mixed in reasonable amounts of the finest hashish, a brand of Lebanon #1 called Seventh Heaven.
The weekly parties became joyhouses of abandon…men and women belly dancing and teasing, oil wrestling, and above it all the highly emotional voice of Modi singing tragic Russian songs, which often brought on bouts of tears.
Three whole days and four whole nights with all of them at the Villa Valhalla! Each except Rory with someone to hold on to through the night that gave relief from all that sand and heat and of all they had given up to be in Egypt.
Some nights! No need to hurry the party this night. A seduction of peace fell over them. Chester had learned the tambour and played wildly during the belly dances. Now, in this state of subdued euphoria he beat the drum softly. Shaara’s eyes were glazed.
Modi took a deep puff of the water pipe and picked up his accordion. One of the girls, Neva, knew how to play the flute. It was all very serene.
“How did you manage to get liberty passes for us all, Lieutenant Jeremy?” the Serjeant Major asked.
“Research, we’re researching.”
“You know, cobbers,” Rory said, “I’m getting a little guilt on about the Serj, old Yurlob.”
“I don’t know,” Modi said. “I think he might not be comfortable here.”
“What the hell, we’re all from different places,” Rory argued.
“No, we’re all from the same place,” Johnny said. “Yurlob is from a different place. I’ve certainly tried to befriend him.”
“Me, too,” Chester said, waving as he tapped the tambour. He was next on the pipe. “He’s got a real thing with the inferior/superior business.”
“I think they’ve got a pretty vicious caste system,” Jeremy said.
“He isn’t a Hindu,” Chester said, “so you’d think he might be more open with us.”
“The Punjabs are Sikhs,” Johnny said, “half-Hindu, half-Moslem or