U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [180]
A man who had come up behind him said something
to Joe in Spanish. He was a smiling ruddy man in blue denims and was smoking a cigar, but for some reason he made Joe feel panicky. "No savvy," Joe said and walked away and out between the warehouses into the streets back of the waterfront. He had trouble finding Maria's place, al the blocks looked so much alike. It was by the mechanical violin in the window that he recognized it. Once he got inside the stuffy anisesmel ing dump he stood a long time at the bar with one hand round a sticky beerglass looking out at the street he could see in bright streaks through the beadcurtain that hung in the door. Any minute he expected the white uniform and yel ow holster of a marine to go past.
Behind the bar a yel ow youth with a crooked nose
leaned against the wal looking at nothing. When Joe made up his mind he jerked his chin up. The youth came over and craned confidential y across the bar, leaning on one hand and swabbing at the oilcloth with the rag he held in the other. The flies that had been grouped on the rings left by beerglasses on the oilcloth flew up to join
-5-the buzzing mass on the ceiling. "Say, bo, tel Maria I want to see her," Joe said out of the corner of his mouth. The youth behind the bar held up two fingers. "Dos pesos," he said. "Hel , no, I only want to talk to her." Maria beckoned to him from the door in back. She was a sal ow woman with big eyes set far apart in bluish sacks. Through the crumpled pink dress tight over the bulge of her breasts Joe could make out the rings of crinkled flesh round the nipples. They sat down at a table in the back room. "Gimme two beers," Joe yel ed through the door.
"Watta you wan', iho de mi alma?" asked Maria. "You savvy Doc Sidner?" "Sure me savvy al yanki. Watta you wan) you no go wid beeg sheep?" "No go wid beeg sheep. . . Fight wid beeg sonofabeech, see?"
"Ché!" Maria's breasts shook like jel y when she laughed. She put a fat hand at the back of his neck and drew his face towards hers. "Poor baby . . . black eye."
"Sure he gave me a black eye." Joe pul ed away from her.
"Petty officer. I knocked him cold, see . . . Navy's no place for me after that. . . I'm through. Say, Doc said you knew a guy could fake A.B. certificates. . . able sea-man savvy? Me for the Merchant Marine from now on, Maria."
Joe drank down his beer.
She sat shaking her head saying, "Ché. . . pobrecito
. . . Ché." Then she said in a tearful voice, " 'Ow much dol ars you got?" "Twenty," said Joe. "Heem want fif-tee." "I guess I'm f --d for fair then." Maria walked round to the back of his chair and put a fat arm round his neck, leaning over him with little cluck-ing noises.
"Wait a minute, we rink. . . sabes?" Her big breast pressing against his neck and shoulder made him feel itchy; he didn't like her touching him in the morning when he was sober like this. But he sat there until she suddenly let out a parrot screech. " Paquito . . . ven acá."
-6-A dirty pearshaped man with a red face and neck came in from the back. They talked Spanish over Joe's head. At last she patted his cheek and said, "Awright Paquito sabe where heem live. . . maybe heem take twenty,
sabes?"
Joe got to his feet. Paquito took off the smudged cook's apron and lit a cigarette. "You savvy A.B. papers?" said Joe walking up and facing him. He nodded, "Awright." Joe. gave Maria a hug and a little pinch. "You're a good girl, Maria." She fol owed them grinning to the door of the bar.
Outside Joe looked sharply up and down the street.
Not a uniform. At the end of the street a crane tilted black above the cement warehouse buildings. They got on a'streetcar and rode a long time without saying anything. Joe sat staring at the floor with his hands dangling be-tween his knees until Paquito poked him. They got out in a cheaplooking suburban section of new cement houses already dingy. Paquito rang at a door like al the other doors and after a while a man with redrimmed eyes and big teeth like a horse came and