He knew that none of them liked him, and he hardly cared, but now they hated him and he could feel it as almost a leaden oppression in the air
And they had to get upIf they failed, then the thing he had done with Hearn was wrong, and he had been bucking the Army, simply disobeying an orderHe would have to carry the platoon virtually on his back and it was going to be very difficultHe spat, and slit the end off a cardboard K rationAs with everything else, he did this neatly, expertly
Late into the afternoon Ridges and Goldstein struggled along with WilsonThey moved at a torturously slow pace, toting him forward for ten yards or at most fifteen before they set him downAn ant traveling in a straight line would have gone literally as fastThey did not think of quitting or continuing, they hardly ever listened to Wilson's ramblings, there was nothing in all the heat and effort but the dumb imperative to carry him onThey did not talk, they were exhausted beyond speech, they only shambled forward like blind men crossing a strange and terrifying streetTheir fatigue had cut through so many levels, had blunted finally so many of their senses that they were reduced to the lowest common denominator of their existenceCarrying him was the only reality they knew
And so for hours
cartier santos demoiselle they labored forward, ready to collapse at any moment, but somehow never quite falling unconsciousToward the end they had only a dumb wonder that they could abuse their bodies so mightily and have them still function
Wilson fell into a fever and drifted along in a heavy swell of fogThe jolting of the litter became dull and leaden, almost pleasantThe few words he heard, the hoarse panting communications between Ridges and Goldstein, the sound of his own voice, indeed all sensations entered his head quite separately like doors opening into individual closetsHis senses were exceptionally vivid, he felt every spasm of their muscles in the tremors of the litter, and obversely the pains of his wound seemed remote, something that came to him outside the envelope of his bodyBut one thing had deserted himHe was completely passive, blissfully tired, and it took him minutes to decide to ask for anything, or to bring his hand up to his forehead to chase an insectAnd when he did, his fingers remained motionless on his face for almost as long before he dropped his arm again
He rambled on about anything that came into his mind, talking for minutes at a time, his voice rasping weakly or rising to a shout without any controlAnd the men carrying him listened without understanding the
ladies rolex for sale meaning of his words or even caring
"They was woman in Kansas when Ah was out at Riley, she used to take me up and live wi' me jus' as if Ah was her husbandAh never even stayed in the goddam barracks, Ah jus' use' to tell 'em mah wife was in townThat woman use' to cook for me and mend mah uniforms and starch 'em nice as you please, they wa'n't a damn thing she wouldn' do for me"Ah gotta picture of her Ah'd like to show ya if you jus' wait a minute His hand would fumble at his pocket, then forget about it"Figgered Ah wasn't married and Ah never set her right, Ah figgered Ah might even shack up with her after the waw, and what was the goddam sense of jus' losin' a good woman, Ah never could see the point to thatAh jus' tole her Ah was a collidge gradjit, and she believe' meGoddam women'll believe any damn thing if en you just keep layin' 'em regular He sighed, coughed feebly, a little blood inching once more out of his mouthIt stirred a few ripples of fear in him, and he shook his headHe was weary and yet he couldn't give up"They get me back damn doctors'll fix me up good as newThe bullet had whanged into his flesh with incredible force and he had bled at intervals for a day and a half, had been shocked and jolted on the litter, had undergone the torments of his
replica gucci canvas bag woundBut it never occurred to him to quitThere were so many things he wanted to do
"Ah tell you men Ah ain't sayin' screwin' a nigger is right thing to do, but Ah git a little tempted ever' now and thenThey was a nigger gal use' to pass mah pappy's house almost ev' day, an' Ah can still see way her ass wiggle
He roused himself almost on his elbow, looked at Ridges evenly for a moment
"Eveh screw any nigger stuff?" he asked him
Ridges stopped, set the stretcher downFor once he had heard Wilson"You can shut up that kine of talk," he told himHis breath came in heavy sobs and he stared at Wilson vacantly as if he could not focus his eyes"Nuff of that," he blurted outEven in his exhaustion he was profoundly shocked"Ought know better talk like that," he panted
"Ridges, you're jus' chickenshit," Wilson said
Ridges shook his head like a bullAll his life there had been any number of things he could not doMaking love to a Negro was a luxury as well as a sin to him; it was one of the excessive things you could not do and survive
But Wilson was far away alreadyThe warmth in his body, the pleasantly heavy lassitude of his limbs tricked himHe thought it was sexual anticipation, and a thick foundationless lust rose in his throatHe closed his eyes, recalling a moonlit night and the
omega seamaster de ville creekbank of the river outside his townHe chuckled weakly, some phlegm burbling into his throatHe swallowed it againHe felt his cheeks puckering, and he lapsed into a gentle weeping which issued easily out of himHe noticed it with surprise
Suddenly he was aware of his mouth again, felt his tongue lolling in his throat"Gimme some water, huh, men?" There was no answer and he said again patiently"Jus' a little drink, huh, men?"
They would not answer him, and he was angry"Goddammit, men, gimme a little water
"Hold off," Ridges said hoarsely
"Men, Ah do anythin' for ya, y' gimme a little water
Ridges set him downWilson's cries rasped against his sensesIt was the only thing that could arouse him by now
"You men are just sonsofbitches
"You cain't have it," Ridges saidHe could see no harm in it, which made it harder for him to refuse, but he was also bitter at WilsonWe done without, neveh made any fuss, he told himself"Wilson, you cain't have it His voice was final and Wilson lapsed into reverie again
They picked up the stretcher and tugged forward a few yards, laid it down againThe sun was drifting toward the western horizon and it grew cooler, but they paid little attentionWilson was a burden they had to carry; it would go on and on and they could never let him
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