U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [167]
dragging his feet over the pavements in the early heat. Wel dressed men and women went by in limousines and sedans. A boy flashed by on a red motorbike. He wished he had the jack to buy a motorbike himself and go on a trip somewhere. Last night he'd tried to argue Hendriks into going South with him, but Hendriks said he'd picked up with a skirt that was a warm baby and he was getting his nookie every night and going to stay right with it. To hel with al that, thought Charley; I want to see some country. He looked so down in the mouth that Jim said, "What's the trouble, Charley?" when he walked into the garage.
"Aw, nothing," said Charley, and started to help clean the parts of the carburetor of a Mack truck Jim was
-390-tinkering with. The truckdriver was a young fel er with closecropped black hair and a tanned face. Charley liked his looks. He said he was going to take a load of store-fittings down to Milwaukee next day and was looking for a guy to go with him. "Would you take me?" said Charley. The truckdriver looked puzzled. "He's my kid brother, Fred; he'l be al right . . . But what about your job?"
Charley colored up. "Aw, I resigned.""Wel , come round with me to see the boss, " said the truckdriver. "And if it's al right by him it's al right by me." They left next morning before day. Charley felt bad about sneaking out on his landlady, but he left a note on the table saying he'd send her what he owed her as soon as he got a job. It was fine leaving the city and the mil s and grainelevators behind in the gray chil y early morn-ing light. The road fol owed the river and the bluffs and the truck roared along sloshing through puddles and muddy ruts. It was chil y although the sun was warm when it wasn't behind the clouds. He and Fred had to yel at each other to make their voices heard but they told stories and chewed the fat about one thing and an-other. They spent the night in LaCrosse. They just got into the hash joint in time to order ham-burger steaks before it closed, and Charley felt he was making a hit with the waitress who was from Omaha and whose name was Helen. She was about thirty and had a tired look under the eyes that made him think maybe she was kind of easy. He hung round until she closed up and took her out walking and they walked along the river and the wind was warm and smelt winey of sawmil s and there was a little moon behind fleecy clouds and they sat down in the new grass where it was dark behind stacks of fresh-cut lumber laid out to season. She let her head drop on his shoulder and cal ed him "baby boy." Fred was asleep in the truck rol ed up in a blanket on
-391-top of the sacking when he got back. Charley curled up in his overcoat on the other side of the truck. It was cold and the packingcases were uncomfortable to lie on but he was tired and his face felt windburned, and he soon fel asleep.
They were off before day.
The first thing Fred said was, "Wel , did you make her, kid?" Charley laughed and nodded. He felt good and thought to himself he was damn lucky to get away from the Twin Cities and Emiscah and that sonofabitchin'
foreman. The whole world was laid out in front of him like a map, and the Mack truck roaring down the middle of it and towns were waiting for him everywhere where he could pick up jobs and make good money and find
goodlooking girls waiting to cal him their baby boy. He didn't stay long in Milwaukee. They didn't need
any help in any of the garages so he got a job pearl-diving in a lunchroom. It was a miserable greasy job with long hours. To save money he didn't get a room but flopped in a truck in a garage where a friend of Jim's was working.