The Cold Six Thousand - James Ellroy [138]
The O-heads weaved. The O-heads bumped. The O-heads swacked and swerved. Blastoff and orbit—Big “H” très boocoo.
Wayne greased the Marvs. Wayne paid ten bucks U.S. The Marvs hauled the O-heads out. The lab smelled. Wayne Lysoled the sink. Wayne wiped his needles blood-free.
“If there’s more of that, I’ll fly.”
Wayne turned around—whazzat?—Wayne dropped a needle tray.
There’s Bongo. He’s in bikini briefs. He’s in fruit boots.
“What kind of reading can you get off little slopes like that? You need a big guy like me to gauge the fuckin’ quality of your shit.”
Wayne gulped a tad. Wayne checked vat dregs and spoons. Wayne saw one dose tops.
He strained it. He siphoned it. He cooked it.
Bongo said, “You always starin’ at me. Then you gets to meet me formally, and you gots nothin’ to say.”
Wayne grabbed a tourniquet. Wayne fed a spike.
“There’s this rumor goin’ around that you killed these three brothers, but I don’t believe it. You more the voyeur type to me.”
Wayne grabbed his arms. Wayne pumped his veins. Wayne primed a fat blue.
“Cat got your tongue? You a fuckin’ deaf-mute or somethin’?”
Wayne tied him off. Wayne geezed him.
Bongo seized. Bongo shook. Bongo upchucked and hurled. He doused the floor. He doused Wayne’s shoes. He grinned. He weaved. He danced.
He did the Swim. He did the Wah-Watusi. He lurched. He grabbed at shelves. He stumbled out.
Wayne heard tracers. Wayne cracked his windows. There’s the arc. There’s the rush. There’s the pink glow.
Wayne cracked the vents. Music flew up. There’s “Night Train”—Sonny Liston’s song.
Bongo walked back in. Bongo brought two whores. They held him. They propped him up.
He said, “Yours, baby. Around the world, free.”
Wayne shook his head. One whore said, “He crazy.” One whore said, “He queer.”
66
(Saravan,11/30/64)
Mail run—Aéroport de Saravan.
Mail flew in. Mail hit Saigon. Mail hit Ops South. Marvs snatched kadre mail. Marvs called up the kampsite. Marvs pouched it up.
The airstrip reeked. Goats grazed adjacent. One runway/one hut.
Pete waited. Pete jeeped in. Pete brought two guards. Pete brought an ex-Cong kontingent.
The ex-Congs mingled. The ex-Congs disdained the ex-Marvs. The ex-Marvs mingled. The ex-Marvs disdained the ex-Congs.
Pete feared riots. Pete stole their guns. Pete issued rubber-bullet pumps. Pete neutered the guards. Pete pampered the slaves. They got fresh food and water. They got fresh chains.
Tran sacked a village. Tran killed VC. Tran stole their swag. Tran got canned goods and penicillin. Tran got methamphetamine.
The slaves were soft. The slaves were weak. Harvest time was near. Pete stole their “O.” Pete fed them soup. Pete fed them franks and beans.
The slaves were sick—fevers and flu—Pete fed them penicillin. The slaves lacked will. The slaves lacked oomph. Pete fed them methamphetamine.
They worked triple shifts. They soared. The fields sparkled. The bulb yield soared. Tran hired six chink chemists. Said chinks cooked M-base. The refineries soared.
Wayne worked the base. Wayne pledged white horse. Wayne’s production skills soared.
The mail plane touched down. Goats scattered. The pilot tossed mail sacks. Marvs deplaned fast. Pete’s Congs shagged the pouch.
They ran it over. Pete pulled the letters. Pete read them through.
Ward wrote. Ward said he checked Tiger. Ward said Tiger looked good. Nellis looked good. Kinman looked good. Kinman pledged help. Airmen to unload crates/airmen to lug crates/airmen to drive crates to the Agency drop.
Ward said he saw Barb. Barb was lonely. Barb was good. Wayne wrote.
Wayne said we’re on go: 1/9/65.
Fred Otash wrote. Fred had no Arden dope. Fred had no dope on D. Bruvick. Queries out/will continue/will update as told.
Barb wrote. Barb wrote vignettes. Her thoughts jumped. Her handwriting jerked.
I’m up. I’m down. I sleep odd hours.
“Not our odd hours. Not where we met & made love going & coming to bed.”
She saw Ward. “He’s hot for Wayne’s stepmom.” The cat missed him. “He sleeps on your pillow now.”
She hung out at Tiger.