U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [188]
"Wel , I guess I'l be gettin' aboard my bloody lime-juicer." Joe had his hand on the door. The man who said his name was Jones came running over and took his hand and said,
"No, you're not going. You said you?d go on a party with me. You're an awful nice boy. You won't be sorry. You can't go away like this, now that you've got me feeling al sort of chummy and you know amorous. Don't you ever feel that way, Slim? I'l do the handsome thing. I'l give you fifty dol ars." Joe shook his head and pul ed his hand away. He had to give him a shove to get the door open; he ran down the white marble steps and out into the street. It was about dark; Joe walked along fast. The sweat was pouring off him. He was cussing under his breath as
-25-he walked along-He felt rotten and sore and he'd wanted real bad to see some papers from home.
He loafed up and down a little in the sort of park
place where he'd sat that afternoon, then he started down towards the wharves. Might as wel turn in. The smel of frying from eating joints reminded him he was hungry. He turned into one before he remembered he didn't have a cent in his pocket. He fol owed the sound of a mechan-ical piano and found himself in the red light district. Standing in the doorways of the little shacks there were nigger wenches of al colors and shapes, halfbreed Chinese and Indian women, a few faded fat German or French
women; one little mulatto girl who reached her hand out and touched his shoulder as he passed was damn pretty. He stopped to talk to her, but when he said he was broke, she laughed and said, "Go long from here, Mister No-Money Man . . . no room here for a NoMoney Man." When he got back on board he couldn't find the cook to try and beg a little grub off him so he took a chaw and let it go at that. The focastle was like an oven. He went up on deck with only a pair of overal s on and walked up and down with the watchman who was a pink-faced youngster from Dover everybody cal ed Tiny. Tiny said he'd heard the old man and Mr. McGregor talking in the cabin about how they'd be off tomorrow to St. Luce to load limes and then 'ome to blighty and would 'e be glad to see the tight little hile an' get off this bleedin'
crahft, not 'arf. Joe said a hel of a lot of good it'd do him, his home was in Washington, D. C. "I want to get out of the c----g life and get a job that pays something. This way every bastardly tourist with a little jack thinks he can hire you for his punk." Joe told Tiny about the man who said his name was Jones and he laughed like he'd split. "Fifty dol ars, that's ten quid. I'd a 'ad 'arf a mind to let the toff 'ave a go at me for ten quid." The night was absolutely airless. The mosquitoes were
-26-beginning to get at Joe's bare neck and arms. A sweet hot haze came up from the slack water round the wharves blurring the lights down the waterfront. They took a couple of turns without saying anything.
"My eye what did 'e want ye to do, Yank? "I' said Tiny giggling. "Aw to hel with him," said Joe. "I'm goin' to get out of this life. Whatever happens, wherever you are, the seaman gets the s --y end of the stick. Ain't that true, Tiny?"
"Not 'aft . . . ten quid! Why, the bleedin' toff ought to be ashaymed of hisself. Corruptin'
morals, that's what
'e's after. Ought to go to 'is 'otel with a couple of ship-mytes and myke him pay blackmyl. There's many an old toff in Dover payin' blackmyl for doin' less 'n 'e did. They comes down on a vacaytion and goes after the
bath'ouse boys. Blackmyl lim, that's what I'd do,
Yank."
Joe didn't say anything. After a while he said, "Jeez, an' when I was a kid I thought I wanted to go to the tropics."
"This ain't tropics, it's a bleedin' 'el 'ole, that's what it is." They took another couple of turns. Joe went and leaned over the side looking down into the greasy blackness. God damn these mosquitoes. When he spat out his plug of tobacco it made a light plunk in the water. He went down into the focastle again, crawled into his bunk and pul ed the blanket over his head and lay there sweating. "Darn it, I