The Dark Arena - Mario Puzo [89]
Mosca studied both women. One could be bis mother, the other was actually the mother of his child, and the child in the carriage was his. He sorted all this out in his mind, making it very simple because the beer had made him sleepy. But everything jumbled together.
One day, long ago, he had put on his steel helmet, taken up his rifle, and on ships, in trucks, cm the back of tanks had traveled through North Africa, England, France, Belgium, the Netherlands, to search out the enemy and put him to death. And even now this did not serai wrong, or stupid, or even ironical. It just seemed queer. A hell of a thing, he thought, a hell of a thing. He was amazed now that he thought of it. He took another handful of peanuts and almost missed his mouth, some of the nuts trickling to the floor. He felt very sleepy and went to stand by the window, letting the little breeze come through the porous cotton of his T shirt and onto his warm body. He walked unsteadily over to the carriage and stared down at the baby and said solemnly and out loud, “A hell of a thing.”
Both of the women smiled. “I think I'll have to put you to bed,” HeUa said to Mosca. Then to Frau Saunders, “This is the first time he ever really looked at the baby. Don't you believe it, Walter, that you are a father?”
“He'll be better with the second one,” Frau Saunders said.
Mosca kept staring down at the child. It was not ugly now, the wrinkles of the face had been filled out to a clean, white mask. The women were reading again. Mosca went back to the window.
“Don't be so restless,” Hella said, not looking up from her book.
“I'm not restless,” Mosca said. And it #as true. He felt more as if he were exploring the room, really looking at it for the first time. He walked over to the carriage again and watched the baby sleeping. It was getting to look almost human, he thought. Then he said to Hella, “How about us going to the country club tomorrow? We can sit on die lawn with the carriage and I'll bring you hot dogs and ice cream from the PX snack bar. We can hear the band out there, too.”
Hella nodded her head, still reading. Mosca said to Frau Saunders, “How would you like to come with us?”
Frau Saunders looked up and said, “Oh, no, I have some people coming.”
Hella smiled at her. “He really meant it, he wouldn't ask you otherwise. You can eat yourself sick on ice cream.”
“No, really,” Frau Saunders said. She went back to her reading. Mosca realized that she wouldn't go because she was too shy, that she really thought he had asked out of politeness.
“No kidding,” he said.
Frau Saunders smiled. “Bring me back some ice cream,” she said.
Mosca took another beer can from the bedroom; everything was okay, he thought
“While you're feeling so friendly,” Hella said. “I have a favor to ask you. Frau Saunders has an uncle in America and she wants you to send a letter for her through your Army mail.”
“Sure,” Mosca said. It was standard. All the Germans were writing to their relatives in the States hinting for packages.
Frau Saunders said, “Thank you.” And with a wry smile, “We are all very much concerned these days for our dear uncles in America.” Hella and Mosca laughed, Mosca couldn't stop and choked cm a mouthful of beer he had been ready to swallow.
The women had gone back to their reading so Mosca glanced at the copy of Stars and Stripes that lay on the table, then said, “Maybe Leo will be back from Hamburg tomorrow and come out to the club with us.”
Hella looked up. “He has been a long” time this trip. I hope nothing has happened to him.”
Mosca went for a fresh can of beer. “You sure you two don't want some?” They both shook their heads. He stood by the window. ‘I guess Leo figured he'd spend the weekend there,