| He mopped his forehead once more, felt his collar gathered like a sodden rope around his neck
Well, twelve pounds was not badKerrigan would have charged him at least fifteen pounds for those supplies, perhaps twentyThat seaman had been an ass, and the General was an ass tooCummings had expected him to come back with only the whiskyYesterday Horton had been talking about a purser"That sonofabitch won't co-operate at all," Horton had saidAnd the purser was Kerrigan
The General had sent him out on a special detail to buy some extras for officers' mess when clearly it was a job for one of the officers in Horton's sectionSomehow he had sensed the General's motive, he must have, otherwise why would he have gone to the trouble of bribing the seaman or become so angry when Kerrigan had given him lip? So the General was having an effect on himHearn sat down on the tarpaulin covering the supplies, took off his shirt, swabbed his wet body with it, and then, holding it dourly in dior monogram bag his hand, he lit a cigarette
After the boat landed, Hearn had the supplies transferred to a weapons carrier, and rode back with his detailHe reached the bivouac before noon, and dropped in at the General's tent to report, savoring the idea of disappointing Cummings, but the General was not thereHearn sat down on a foot locker, and surveyed the tent distastefullyNothing in it had been altered since early morning when Clellan had worked on it, and in the sunlight that glanced through the open flaps the tent was rectangular and unfriendly with all the corners squared, and no sign that anyone ever lived in itThe floor was spotless, the blankets were drawn tautly over the General's mattress, the desk was unclutteredHearn sighed, felt a vague uneasiness stirring in himEver since that particular night
The General was putting the screws on himThe things Cummings gave him to do could be done easily enough, but there was always a special brand of humiliation in themThe General chanel purse white knew him in some ways better than he knew himself, Hearn realizedIf he had a job he would do it, even if it meant being a bastard about it, but each time he was a bastard it was a little easier to be one the next timeThat business with Kerrigan this morning was taking on another aspectWhen you looked at it coldly it amounted to bribing a man, sneaking out some supplies and sweating until you got away
On another level it was the sort of deal his father might have pulled"Every man has his price, there's more ways than one to skin a cat Oh, there were enough platitudes to cover it, but the General was showing him that he wasn't superior to the platitudes eitherIt had been the recreation tent all over again with fifty, perhaps a hundred variations
"You forget, Robert, there's such a thing as papal dispensation All right, now there was no dispensationHe was merely a second lieutenant, squeezed by all the pressures above and beneath him, no more capable than any of the other cartier love officers of maintaining his own course with a little dignity, a little restraintAfter it went on long enough the reactions would become automatic, fear-inspiredSomehow you never did win when you were with the GeneralEven on that night of the chess game it was he who had felt sick, not Cummings; it was he who had lain on his cot and dredged his memory for all the silt and cankers
"Are you junior officers getting your liquor supplies?" What the hell had he meant by that? On an impulse Hearn opened the General's liquor closet, and examined the opened bottlesAlmost every night Cummings could be counted on to drink an inch or two of Scotch, and with a curious niggardliness he would mark the level of the bottle with a pencil before he put it awayHearn had noticed this with amusement, found it an interesting little quirk in all the contradictions of the General
But today the liquor level on his bottle of Scotch was at least two and a half inches below the last pencil markCummings wholesale chanel jewelry had seen that this morning, had rebuked him for drinking it"Are you junior officers getting your liquor supplies?" Only, that was absurdCummings would know better than that
It could have been ClellanBut it was unlikely Clellan would jeopardize a sinecure like general's orderly merely for a drinkAnd besides, Clellan was shrewd enough to mark the liquor level himself if he wanted to take a nip
Suddenly, Hearn had an image of Cummings sitting in his tent the night before, about to go to bed, examining thoughtfully the label of his whisky bottleHe might even pick up his pencil, deliberate a moment or two, and then he would leave the bottle unmarked, return it to the closetWhat had his face looked like at that moment?
This, now, was not funnyNot after the recreation tent and the flowers and KerriganUntil this little episode, he could consider the General's antics as pranks that spewed out of twisted and intense hungersIt had been in a way like the probing banter between cartier santos 100 chronograph frien |
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