The Moon Is Down by John Steinbeck

Hunter did not look up. He said, “I know the place. They had good scallops.”

“Sure they did,” Prackle said. “Everything was good there. Not a single bad thing did they serve. And their coffee—”

Tonder looked up from his letter and said, “They won’t be serving coffee now—or scallops.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” said Prackle. “They did and they will again. And there was a waitress there.” He described her figure with his hand, with the good hand. “Blonde, so and so.” He looked down at the magazine. “She had the strangest eyes—has, I mean—always kind of moist-looking as though she had just been laughing or crying.” He glanced at the ceiling and he spoke softly. “I was out with her. She was lovely. I wonder why I didn’t go back oftener. I wonder if she’s still there.”

Tonder said gloomily, “Probably not. Working in a factory, maybe.”

Prackle laughed. “I hope they aren’t rationing girls at home.”

“Why not?” said Tonder.

Prackle said playfully, “You don’t care much for girls do you? Not much, you don’t!”

Tonder said, “I like them for what girls are for. I don’t let them crawl around my other life.”

And Prackle said tauntingly, “It seems to me that they crawl all over you all the time.”

Tonder tried to change the subject. He said, “I hate these damn lanterns. Major, when are you going to get that dynamo fixed?”

Major Hunter looked up slowly from his board and said, “It should be done by now. I’ve got good men working on it. I’ll double the guard on it from now on, I guess.”

“Did you get the fellow that wrecked it?” Prackle asked.

And Hunter said grimly, “It might be any one of five men. I got all five.” He went on musingly, “It’s so easy to wreck a dynamo if you know how. Just short it and it wrecks itself.” He said, “The light ought to be on any time now.”

Prackle still looked at his magazine. “I wonder when we will be relieved. I wonder when we will go home for a while. Major, wouldn’t you like to go home for a rest?”

Hunter looked up from his work and his face was hopeless for a moment. “Yes, of course.” He recovered himself. “I’ve built this siding four times. I don’t know why a bomb always knocks out this particular siding. I’m getting tired of this piece of track. I have to change the route every time because of the craters. There’s no time to fill them in. The ground is frozen too hard. It seems to be too much work.”

Suddenly the electric lights came on and Tonder automatically reached out and turned off the two gasoline lanterns. The hissing was gone from the room.

Tonder said, “Thank God for that! That hissing gets on my nerves. It makes me think there’s whispering.” He folded the letter he had been writing and he said, “It’s strange more letters don’t come through. I’ve only had one in two weeks.”

Prackle said, “Maybe nobody writes to you.”

“Maybe,” said Tonder. He turned to the major. “If anything happened—at home, I mean—do you think they would let us know—anything bad, I mean, any deaths or anything like that?”

Hunter said, “I don’t know.”

“Well,” Tonder went on, “I would like to get out of this god-forsaken hole!”

Prackle broke in, “I thought you were going to live here after the war?” And he imitated Tonder’s voice. “Put four or five farms together. Make a nice place, a kind of family seat. Wasn’t that it? Going to be a little lord of the valley, weren’t you? Nice, pleasant people, beautiful lawns and deer and little children. Isn’t that the way it was, Tonder?”

As Prackle spoke, Tonder’s hand dropped. Then he clasped his temples with his hands and he spoke with emotion. “Be still! Don’t talk like that! These people! These horrible people! These cold people! They never look at you.” He shivered. “They never speak. They answer like dead men. They obey, these horrible people. And the girls are frozen!”

There was a light tap on the door and Joseph came in with a scuttle of coal. He moved silently through the room and set the scuttle down so softly that he made no noise, and he turned without looking up at anyone and went toward the door again. Prackle said loudly, “Joseph!” And Joseph turned without replying, without looking up, and he bowed very slightly. And Prackle said still loudly, “Joseph, is there any wine or any brandy?” Joseph shook his head.

Tonder started up from the table, his face wild with anger, and he shouted, “Answer, you swine! Answer in words!”

Joseph did not look up. He spoke tonelessly. “No, sir; no, sir, there is no wine.”

And Tonder said furiously, “And no brandy?”

Joseph looked down and spoke tonelessly again. “there is no brandy, sir.” He stood perfectly still.

“What do you want?” Tonder said

“I want to go, sir.”

“Then go, goddamn it!”

Joseph turned and went silently out of the room and Tonder took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his face. Hunter looked up at him and said, “You shouldn’t let him beat you so easily.”

Tonder sat down in his chair and put his hands to his temples and he said brokenly, “I want a girl. I want to go home. I want a girl. There’s a girl in this town, a pretty girl. I see her all the time. She has blond hair. She lives beside the old-iron store. I want that girl.”

Prackle said, “Watch yourself. Watch your nerves.”

At that moment the lights went out again and the room was in darkness. Hunter spoke while the matches were being struck and an attempt was being made to light the lanterns; he said, “I thought I had all of them. I must have missed one. But I can’t be running down there all the time. I’ve got good men down there.”

Tonder lighted the first lantern and then he lighted the other, and Hunter spoke sternly to Tonder. “Lieutenant, do your talking to us if you have to talk. Don’t let the enemy hear you talk this way. There’s nothing these people would like better than to know your nerves are getting thin. Don’t let the enemy hear you.”

Tonder sat down again. The light was sharp on his face and the hissing filled the room. He said, “That’s it! The enemy’s everywhere! Every man, every woman, even children. The enemy’s everywhere. Their faces look out of doorways. The white faces behind the curtains, listening. We have beaten them, we have won everywhere, and they wait and obey, and they wait. Half the world is ours. Is it the same in other places, Major?”

And Hunter said, “I don’t know.”

“That’s it,” Tonder said. “We don’t know. The reports—everything in hand. Conquered countries cheer our soldiers, cheer the new order.” His voice changed and grew soft and still softer. “What do the reports say about us? Do they say we are cheered, loved, flowers in our paths? Oh, these horrible people waiting in the snow!”

And Hunter said, “Now that’s off your chest, do you feel better?”

Prackle had been beating the table softly with his good fist, and he said, “He shouldn’t talk that way. He should keep things to himself. He’s a soldier, isn’t he? Then let him be a soldier.”

The door opened quietly and Captain Loft came in and there was snow on his helmet and snow on his shoulders. His nose was pinched and red and his overcoat collar was high about his ears. He took off his helmet and the snow fell to the floor and he brushed his shoulders. “What a job!” he said

“More trouble?” Hunter asked.

“Always trouble. I see they’ve got your dynamo again. Well, I think I fixed the mine for a while.”

“What’s your trouble?” Hunter asked.

“Oh, the usual thing with me—the slowdown and a wrecked dump car. I saw the wrecker, though. I shot him. I think I have a cure for it, Major, now. I just thought it up. I’ll make each man take out a certain amount of coal. I can’t starve the men or they can’t work, but I’ve really got the answer. If the coal doesn’t come out, no food for the families. We’ll have the men eat at the mine, so there’s no dividing at home. That ought to cure it. They work or their kids don’t eat. I told them just now.”

“What did they say?”

Loft’s eyes narrowed fiercely. “Say? What do they ever say? Nothing! Nothing at all! But we’ll see whether the coal comes out now.” He took off his coat and shook it, and his eyes fell on the entrance door and he saw that it was open a crack. He moved silently to the door, jerked it open, then closed it. “I thought I had closed that door tight,” he said

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