The Naked and the Dead - Norman Mailer [182]
Someone picked him up roughly, and sat him on a cot. It was the doctor, who dressed his wound. "What's this man's name?" the doctor asked.
"Minetta," somebody said.
"All right," the doctor began, "let's cut this out, Minetta. You're not going to get away with it."
"Fug you, you wouldn't get the Jap," Minetta screamed.
The doctor shook him. "Minetta, you're talking to an officer in the U. S. Army. If you don't answer civilly, I'll have you court-martialed."
Minetta was terrified for a moment. I'm in, but in, he said to himself. It was the last line of an obscene joke, and he began to laugh a little hysterically. The sound of his mirth encouraged him, and he increased it wildly. They can't do a thing to me if I play it right, he thought numbly, and he stopped laughing suddenly, and said, "Fug you, you sonofabitch Jap." In the silence he heard a soldier say, "He's nuts, all right," and then someone answering him, "Did ya see him point that gun? Jeez, I thought he was gonna kill us all."
The doctor grew thoughtful. "You're acting, Minetta, I'm on to you," he said suddenly.
"You're a Jap." Minetta dribbled some spittle over his lower lip. He giggled once. I got him by the balls, he told himself.
"Give him a sedative," the doctor said to an orderly standing beside him, "and move him over to Number Seven."
Minetta gazed vacantly at the dirt floor. That was the tent that contained the serious patients, he had heard. He began to spit on the ground. "You Jap," he shouted after the doctor. He stiffened as the orderly grasped him and then relaxed and began to giggle meaninglessly. He made no motion when the hypodermic needle went into his arm. I'm gonna make this, he told himself.
"Okay, Jack, follow me," the orderly said. Minetta stood up and walked across the clearing. He was wondering what he should do next. He caught up to the orderly and whispered to him, "You're a fuggin Jap, but I won't tell no one if you give me five bucks."
"Come on, Jack," the orderly said wearily.
Minetta shambled behind him. When they came to tent No. 7, he stopped and began to shriek again. "I ain't gone in. There's a fuggin Jap in there who's gonna kill me. I ain't going in."
The orderly seized his arm in a wrestler's grip, and pushed him inside the tent. "Lemme go! Lemme go! Lemme go!" Minetta yelled. They stopped before a cot, and the orderly told him to lie down. Minetta sat on the cot and started to undo his shoes. I better take it easy for a while, he told himself. The sedative was beginning to work. He lay back and closed his eyes. For a moment he realized what he had done, and he had an excited lost feeling in the pit of his chest. He swallowed several times. His mind was boiling with mirth and fear and pride. All I got to do is keep it up. They'll have me out of here in a day or two.
He fell asleep in a few minutes and didn't wake until morning. It took him several minutes to remember the events of the previous day, and he began to feel frightened again. For a moment he debated whether to act normal and try to pass it off, but when he thought of returning to the platoon. . . No! Jesus, no! He'd stick it out. Minetta sat up and looked about the tent. There were three men in it, and two of them had their heads wound in bandages; the third man lay on his back without moving, his eyes staring vacantly at the ridgepole. He's Section Eight, Minetta told himself with a shiver, and then became amused as he realized the irony. But a moment later he was frightened again; probably that was the way a crazy man acted, he didn't move and he didn't say anything. Maybe he had put it on too thick the day before. Minetta was worrying. He decided that he would act in a similar way. It's a helluva lot easier on the vocal cords, he told himself.
The doctor passed through at nine o'clock, and Minetta lay on his back without moving, babbling a few words from time to time. The doctor took a glance at him, dressed his leg without speaking, and then moved on. Minetta felt a mixture of relief and resentment. They don't care if