The Dark Arena - Mario Puzo [75]
“When do you think you'll be back?” Mosca asked Leo.
Leo grinned at him. “Don't worry, I won't miss it.”
“Miss what?” Ann Middleton asked.
“I'm going to be a godfather,” Leo said. “I already have the present.”
“It's a shame I won't be here to see the child when it comes,” Ann said. “Too bad Hella couldn't be here tonight. I hope she isn't too ill.”
“No,” Mosca said. “She just took too long a walk this evening. She wanted to come but I told her she'd better not.”
“After all, we're not that important, Walter,” Ann said jokingly but with a touch of malice. Eddie Cassia in his corner armchair opened his eyes. He had dozed off. Visiting married couples was something he hated. He nearly always detested wives when they were with their husbands and in their own homes. And he disliked Ann Middleton. She was plain, she was strong willed, and she treated him with contempt.
Mosca was grinning at her. “You know damn well I'm right.”
“It just irritates her that you aren't concerned about other people,” Gordon said. “I wish I could be like that sometimes.”
Mosca said, “Gordon, maybe Tm being out of line but I'll take a chance. Everybody around the base knows that you're being sent home because you held a Communist party card. I don't know anything about politics. I was a kid when I went into the Army. I guess in some ways I still am. What I'm trying to say is this. I have a lot of respect for you because you have guts. You know things are screwed up. I think you're wrong because I wouldn't trust anybody who can make me do what he wants, no matter what the reason is. That includes the United States Army, the Communist party, Russia, that fat bastard of a colonel, right on down the line.” He turned to Eddie Cassin. “What the hell am I trying to say?”
Eddie said dryly, “That you like him even if you didn't let Hella come.” They all laughed.
Gordon didn't. His long Yankee face expressionless, he said to Mosca, “Since you've spoken maybe I can say something I've always wanted to say to you before, Walter.” He paused a moment, rubbed his great, bony hands together. “I know how you feel or think I do, and maybe you can't help yourself. You say I'm wrong, but I have a belief I can hold no matter what happens. I believe in the human race, that life on earth can be extraordinarily beautiful. I believe that this can be accomplished through the efforts of the Communist party. You build everything on a few people you care about Believe me that is a fallacious way of life.”
“Yeah? Why?” Mosca bowed his head and when he raised it to look at Gordon there were dark-red spots of anger on his face.
“Because those people and you yourself are controlled by forces that you refuse to concern yourself with. You exercise no free will when you fight on your level, in your narrow circle, your little, personal, arena. When you do that you put those people you care about in terrible danger”
Mosca said, “This talk about controlling forces that affect my life. Christ, don't you think I know about it? I don't believe anything can help. But nobody is going to move me around, make me think one thing one day, and then, all of a sudden, bang on the other side we go. I don't care if it's right or wrong. Every day some kraut at the air base or in the billet or working in the Rathskellar tells me how happy hell be when we march together against the Russians and expects me to give him a cigarette. And cm the other side I guess it's the same. You know what Fm glad about?” He leaned over the table at Gordon, his face flushed with excitement and liquor. “That this time there's a good chance of everything going up in smoke. Everybody gets it up the ass.”
“Hey, hey,” Ann Middleton applauded, clapping her hands.
Eddie Cassin was laughing and said, “Jesus Christ, what a speech.” Leo seemed shocked.
Mosca burst out laughing and said to Gordon,