Reflections in a Golden Eye - Carson McCullers [34]
Dark came on and the building was brightly lighted. In a recreation room downstairs he could see the men playing billiards or lounging with magazines. The Captain thought of the mess hall with the long tables laden with hot food and the hungry soldiers eating and laughing together with lusty camaraderie. The Captain was not familiar with enlisted men and his picture of the life inside the barracks was greatly enriched by his imagination. The Captain was drawn toward the Middle Ages and had made a careful study of European history during feudal times. His imaginings of the barracks were flavored by this predilection. As he thought of the two thousand men living together in this great quadrangle, he felt suddenly alone. He sat in the dark car and as he stared at the lighted, crowded rooms inside, as he heard the sounds of shouts and ringing voices, the tears came to his glassy eyes. A bitter loneliness gnawed in him. He drove quickly home.
Leonora Penderton was resting in the hammock by the edge of the woods when her husband arrived. She went into the house and helped Susie finish in the kitchen, as they were to dine at home that evening and then go out to a party. A friend had sent them half a dozen quail and she planned to take over a tray to Alison, who had had a bad heart attack on the night of their party more than two weeks ago, and was now kept permanently in bed. Leonora and Susie arranged the food on a huge silver waiter. On a service plate they put two quail and generous helpings of several vegetables, the juices of which ran together to form a little pool in the middle of the plate. There were a good many other dainties besides, and when Leonora staggered out carrying the big waiter, Susie had to follow after her with a tray holding the overflow.
'Why didn't you bring Morris home with you?' the Captain asked when she returned.
'Poor fellow!' said Leonora. 'He was already gone. Eating his meals at the Officers' Club. Think of it!'
They had dressed for the evening and were standing before the fire in the sitting room with a bottle of whiskey and their glasses on the mantelpiece. Leonora wore her red crepe frock and the Captain his tuxedo. The Captain was nervous and kept tinkling the ice in his glass.
'Hah! Listen!' he said suddenly. 'Here is a pretty good one I heard today.' He put his forefinger along the side of his nose and drew his lips back over his teeth. He was going to tell a story, and was sketching out the skeleton in advance. The Captain had a nice feeling for wit and was a sharp gossip.
'Not long ago there was a telephone call for the General, and the Adjutant, recognizing Alison's voice, put it through immediately. “General, here is a request,” said the voice in a very poised and cultivated manner. “I want you to do me the great service of seeing to it that that soldier does not get up and blow his bugle at six o'clock in the morning. It disturbs Mrs. Langdon's rest.” There was a long pause and at last the General said: “I beg your pardon, but I don't believe I quite understand you.” The request was repeated, and there was a still longer pause. “And pray tell me,” the General said finally, “whom do I have the honor of addressing?” The voice answered: “This is the garcon de maison to Mrs. Langdon, Anacleto. I thank you.”'
The Captain waited soberly, for he was not one to laugh at his own jokes. Neither did Leonora laugh she seemed puzzled.
'What did he say he was?' she asked.
'He was trying to say “houseboy” in French.'
'And you mean Anacleto called up like that about reveille. Well, if that doesn't beat anything I ever heard. I can hardly believe it!'
'Nit wit!' said the Captain. 'It didn't really happen. It's just a story, a joke.'
Leonora did not get the point. She was no gossip. First, she always found it a little difficult to picture a situation that did not actually take place in the room with her. Also, she was not in the least malicious.
'Why, how mean!' she said. 'If it didn't