The Dark Arena - Mario Puzo [61]
But you couldn't blame them because our cause was just; thafs true, he thought, but how about Fritz? That was an accident, really an accident. And everybody would forgive him, his own dignitaries, his mother, Alf and Gloria. They would all say you couldn't help what you did. The worms would forgive him. Hella had wept but she accepted because there was nothing else she had left. And he couldn't blame any of them, But don't try to tell me whafs wrong, don't say I should read their letters, don't say the world shouldn't come to an end because men are holy and have immortal souls, don't say I should smile and be polite to every son of a bitch who does me a favor and says hello. All of Hello's hints about being nicer to Frau Meyer and Yergen and my own friends and answer and read my family's letters. Its all mixed up and its nobody's fault and why blame them for being alive?
He had to stop walking, he felt really ill, his head was spinning, and he could not feel his own legs move. Wolf was holding his arm, and he rested against Wolfs shoulder until his head cleared so he could walk again.
White streaks and shadows ran through the night and Mosca, following them, raised his head and saw for the first time the cold and distant winter moon, and saw that they were in the Contrescarpe Park, skirting around the little lake. Icy moonbeams glinted over water and webbed the black trees with frosted light, and as he watched, great dark-blue shadows raced across the sky and drowned the moon, its light, and now he couldn't see anything at all. Then Wolf spoke to him saying, “You looked real bad, Walter; keep going a few minutes, and we'll make a stop where I can fix you up.”
They came suddenly into the city and to a square on a little rise of ground. On one corner stood a church, the great wooden doors barred shut. Wolf led the way to a side entrance and they climbed a narrow staircase to the steeple, and flush with the top step was a door which seemed to be cut out of the very wall. Wolf knocked, and through his nausea, Mosca still felt a shock to see that it was Yergen and thought, Wolf knows Yergen won't believe I have the cigarettes. But he was too sick to care.
The closeness of the room made him lean against a wall and then Yergen was giving him a green pill and hot coffee, shoving the pill into his mouth and holding a burning cup to his lips.
The room, Yergen, and Wolf sprang into focus. The nausea left Mosca's body, and he could feel the cold sweat over his whole body running down between his thighs. Wolf and Yergen were watching him with little knowing smiles on their faces and Yergen patted him on the shoulder and said kindly, “You're all right now, eh?”
The room was cold. It was large, square, with a very low ceiling, and one corner had been made into a cubicle by a wooden partition painted pink and covered