The Naked and the Dead - Norman Mailer [216]
There is a little man pawing him. Signor Maggiore you come home with me now?
He staggers along dimly aware of what he wants, but he does not find it. In another alley the little man and a confederate jump him, strip his pockets, and leave him to awaken in the harsh glare, the quick stench of the sun on a garbage-filled alley in Rome. He makes it back to his hotel without too many people seeing him, changes his clothes, takes a bath, and goes to bed for over a day. He feels as if he is breaking apart.
I must confess, your Reverence, that I have admired the Church for many years. In the immensity of your conception lies your greatness.
The Cardinal bows his head. I am pleased to give you an audience, my son. You have done good work already. I have heard of your labors in Paris against the Antichrist.
I labored for my country. (In this setting the words cause him no embarrassment.)
There is a nobler labor.
I am aware of it, your Reverence. . . There are times when I feel a great weariness.
You may be preparing for an important change.
Sometimes I think so. I've always looked upon your Church with admiration.
He walks through the great courtyard of the Vatican, stares for a long time at the dome of St. Peter's. The ceremony he has just heard has moved him, sent music lapping through his brain.
Maybe I should turn.
But on the boat going back he thinks of other things, reads with quiet satisfaction in the newspaper he has brought on board that Leeway Chemical is opening negotiations with Sallevoisseux Frères.
Man, I'll be glad to get back from frog-land and the wops, one of the officers who has been on the mission says to him.
Yes.
That Italy's a backward country even if they say Musso did a lot for it. You can still keep it. The Catholic countries are the ones who are always backward.
I suppose so.
He thinks clearly for a few minutes. The thing that happened in the Rome alley is a danger sign, and he will have to be very careful from now on. It must never come out again. The Church business is understandable in its light, a highly impractical move at this juncture. I'll be a colonel soon. I can't risk it turning.
Cummings sighs. I've learned a lot.
Yeah, me too.
Cummings looks at the water. Slowly his eyes raise, include the horizon. Lieutenant colonel. . . colonel. . . brigadier. . . major general. . . lieutenant general. . . general?
If there's a war soon it'll help.
But afterward. The politicos were even more important. After the war. . .
He must not commit himself politically yet. There would be too many turns. It might be Stalin, it might be Hitler. But the eventual line to power in America would always be anticommunism.
He must keep his eyes open, Cummings decided.
Chorus:
WHAT IS A MILLION-DOLLAR WOUND?
The latrine, early morning. It is a six-holer off in the bushes at one end of the bivouac, and is without a tarpaulin. At either end is a stick with a roll of paper on it, and a tin can covering it.
GALLAGHER: Some fuggin mornings like this I wish I'd catch a bullet.
WILSON: Only goddam trouble with that is you can't pick the spot.
STANLEY: You know if you could, the Army wouldn't be keeping me long.
GALLAGHER: Aaah, there ain't a goddam place you can get a million-dollar wound that it don't hurt.
STANLEY: Sometimes I think I'd lose a leg, and call it quits.
WILSON: Only trouble with losing a goddam leg is you're h'isted on to a woman, and there's her husban' in the door, and how in the hell you gonna run? (Laughter)
MARTINEZ: Lose arm maybe.
STANLEY: Jeez, that's way worse, I don't think I'd even take that. I mean how the hell can you get a job without an arm or, Jesus, without both arms?
GALLAGHER: Aaah, the fuggin government'll support