“He flew down to Guantánamo this morning.”
“When will he be back?”
“He said he might go to Haiti.”
“Is there anything for me?”
“Nothing with me.”
“Did he leave any message for me?”
“He said to tell you to stick around.”
“How was he feeling?”
“Awful.”
“How did he look?”
“Terrible.”
“Was he plugged at me?”
“I don’t think so. He just said to tell you to stick around.”
“Is there anything I ought to know?”
“I don’t know. Is there?”
“Cut it out.”
“Okay. I suppose you had it pretty dusty. But you weren’t working for him in this office. You get out to sea. I don’t give a goddam—”
“Take it easy.”
“Are you staying out in the country?”
“Yes. But I’m going to be in town today and tonight.”
“He won’t be back today or tonight. I’ll call you out in the country when he comes in.”
“You’re sure he’s not plugged at me?”
“I know he’s not plugged at you. What’s the matter? Have you got a bad conscience?”
“No. Is anybody else plugged at me?”
“As far as I know not even the Admiral is plugged at you. Go on out and get drunk for me.”
“I’m going to get drunk for myself first.”
“Get drunk for me, too.”
“What’s the matter? You’re drunk every night, aren’t you?”
“That’s not enough. How did Henderson do?”
“All right. Why?”
“Nothing.”
“Why?”
“Nothing. I just asked you. You have any complaints?”
“We don’t make complaints.”
“What a man. What a leader.”
“We formulate charges.”
“You can’t. You’re a civilian.”
“Go to hell.”
“I don’t have to. I’m there now.”
“You call me as soon as he gets in. And make my compliments to the Colonel and tell the Colonel I checked in.”
“Yes sir.”
“What’s the sir for?”
“Politeness.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Hollins.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Hudson. Listen. Keep your people where you can find them in a hurry.”
“Thank you very much, Mr. Hollins.”
Down the hall a Lieutenant Commander that he knew came out of the code room. His face was brown from golf and from the beach at Jaimanitas. He looked healthy and his unhappiness did not show. He was young and a very good Far East man. Thomas Hudson had known him when he had had the motor car agency in Manila and a branch agency in Hong Kong. He spoke Tagalog and good Cantonese. Naturally he also spoke Spanish. So he was in Havana.
“Hi, Tommy,” he said. “When did you get into town?”
“Last night.”
“How were the roads?”
“Moderately dusty.”
“You’ll turn the goddamned car over some time.”
“I’m a careful driver.”
“You always were,” the Lieutenant Commander, whose name was Fred Archer, said. He put his arm around Thomas Hudson’s shoulders. “Let me feel of you.”
“Why?”
“You cheer me up. It cheers me up when I feel of you.”
“Have you been over to eat at the Pacífico?”
“Not for a couple of weeks. Should we go?”
“Anytime.”
“I can’t make lunch but we can eat there tonight. Do you have anything for tonight?”
“No. Just afterwards.”
“Me afterwards, too. Where shall I meet you? The Floridita?”
“Come on up there when the shop shuts.”
“Good. I have to come back here afterwards. So we can’t get too drunk.”
“Don’t tell me you bastards work nights now.”
“I do,” Archer said. “It isn’t a popular move.”
“I’m awfully glad to see you, Mr. Freddy,” Thomas Hudson said. “You make me feel cheerful, too.”
“You don’t have to feel cheerful,” Fred Archer said. “You’ve got it.”
“You mean I’ve had it.”
“You’ve had it. And you’ve rehad it. And you’ve rehad it doubled.”
“Not in spades.”
“Spades won’t be any use to you, brother. And you’ve still got it.”
“Write it out for me sometime, Freddy. I’d like to be able to read it early in the mornings.”
“You got a head in her yet?”
“No. Where the head was is about thirty-five thousand dollars worth of junk I signed for.”
“I know. I saw it in the safe. What you signed.”
“They’re goddamned careless then.”
“You can say that again.”
“Is everybody careless?”
“No. And things are a lot better. Really, Tommy.”