Dog Soldiers (44 page)

Smitty sat and sulked.

“
But when he gets going,
”
Danskin said,
“
he tells stories like you could never forget. Ears cut off. Balls cut off. Little kiddies on bayonets. The most awful shit you ever heard.
”
He turned to smile at Smitty and wiped sweat from his forehead.
“
And the kicker is — he was never there.
”

“
How do you know I was never there?
”
Smitty said.

“
That
’
s his way of making out, you know what I mean. He meets a chick and right away she
’
s hearing about the atrocities.
‘
And then I machine-gunned all the kids. And then I strangled all their grannies. And then we set the mayor on fire.
’
He goes on and on — and you know what?
”

“
They love it,
”
Converse said.

Danskin laughed with satisfaction.

“
Your fuckin
’
A. They love it. The more ghastly, the more horrible, the more they love it.
”

“
Jesus,
”
Smitty said,
“
you
’
re embarrassing.
”

“
Then he gives them the switcheroo. He tells them how
he was punished for disobeying orders. The general,
‘
Smitty, take these nuns out and bury them alive in shit.
’
Smitty says,
‘
Fuck you, general.
’
He punches the general in the mouth and they put him in the joint. That
’
s what he did time for, he tells them.
”

“
I don
’
t know,
”
Converse said.

“
What don
’
t you know? Did they do all that shit over there? Is it all true?
”

“
Some of it isn
’
t, obviously. Some of it is.
”

“
Man,
”
Smitty said,
“
if I was a writer I
’
d be rich. I ought to do that with you, Converse. I tell you stuff and you write it down.
”

“
You stupid fuck,
”
Danskin said,
“
people always say that to writers. Now he thinks you
’
re an asshole.
”

“
Not necessarily,
”
Converse said.
“
Sometimes people tell me things and I write it.
”

“
Then you get the bread,
”
Smitty said,
“
and they get shit.
”

“
Not anymore,
”
Converse said. As they drove through fields he told them about the stories he had written for
Nightbeat
. He told them about the Skydiver and the Mad Dentist. He told them Exploding Cigar Kills Nine, Hoarder Crushed By Small Change, and Wedding Night Trick Breaks Bride
’
s Back. They were amused and it passed the driving time agreeably.

Smitty was a bit shocked.

“
How can they put stuff in the papers if it
’
s not true? Isn
’
t it against the law?
”

Danskin whooped in scorn.

“
Not at all,
”
Converse said.

“
You should talk,
”
Danskin said to Smitty.
“
Not a true word comes out of your mouth.
”
He sat thoughtfully for a few minutes and then exploded with laughter.

“
You and your
pungi
stick,
”
he cried.
“
One time you
’
re gonna tell that story one time too many, man. Then you know what I
’
m gonna do? I
’
m gonna make one of those things and put it right through your foot.
”
He leaned into the back seat and slapped Converse on the shoulder.
“
Right through his fuckin
’
foot I
’
ll put it. Then he could talk about how it hurts.
”

They drove through long shadows in golden light; the road followed a ridge overlooking the valley, then turned south in hairpin curves over high treeless passes through the mountains. In one of the passes they pulled off the paved highway and parked out of sight of it, among limestone boulders. Below,
the ground sloped to a brown de
pression with a pool of slo
w-moving muddy water at its bot
tom.

“
Let
’
s take a rest,
”
Danskin said.

They climbed out of the car and made their way down the slope. Danskin carried the rum and a plastic gallon can.

“
It
’
s a hole,
”
Danskin said, looking up to the hills around them.
“
It
’
s a literal hole.
”
He threw the plastic can to Smitty.
“
Fill it up for the radiator. It
’
s all dry from here.
”

He took a sip of rum and passed the bottle to Converse.

“
How you doing, Mr. Converse?
”

“
O.K.,
”
Converse said.

“
You
’
re pretty cool, considering.
”

“
Well, I decided to come. I might as well live with it.
”

“
You decided? What do you mean you decided? You think you could have walked away?
”

Converse looked at the sky. Far above, beyond hearing, the tiny silver body of an airplane inched across the cloud less blue. It occurred to him that he had spent a great deal of time on the ground wishing he were in the air, and rather a lot of time in aircraft wishing he were on the ground.

“
Well, it doesn
’
t matter now, does it?
”
It was a perfect place to kill someone, he thought. A shot would probably be heard for miles — but there was no one within miles to hear. From the top of the pass they had not seen a single sign of human habitation, not a fence, not a wire. Only the plane, six miles up.

“
You
’
re indifferent?
”

“
I
’
m trying.
”

Danskin reached inside his gray cardigan and removed a pistol. He sat down on a rock and leaned the gun on his knee so that the barrel was pointed a few inches to the left of Converse
’
s leg.

“
See this thing?
”

Looking at the gun made Converse sleepy. His eyelids grew heavy.

“
Sure I see it.
”

“
Looks like a regular thirty-eight?
”

“
I don
’
t know anything about handguns. I had a forty-five once. I could take it apart and clean it.
”
He shrugged.
“
That was a while ago.
”

“
This is what it shoots.
”
Danskin took a small canvas roll from his breast pocket and held it out for Converse
’
s in
spection.
“
That
’
s the slug. It doesn
’
t penetrate. It flattens out on contact and mashes the shit out of anything it hits. Makes a wide shallow hole.
”

Converse yawned.

“
That
’
s what the air marshals carry,
”
Danskin said.
“
Re member that if you feel like hijacking a plane.
”

Smitty was carrying the plastic can up the side of a rock where wild flowers grew. The climb was steep and he went slowly.

“
Work for it
”
Danskin called to him.
“
Work for it, mother.
”
He shook his head.
“
He
’
s gonna do up,
”
he told Converse.

“
Has he a habit?
”

Danskin shrugged.

“
Sometimes he shoots a bag by himself. Sometimes he doesn
’
t. I think it
’
s the spike he likes.
”

They watched him climb until he disappeared behind the top of the rock.

“
He
’
s shy,
”
Danskin said primly.

“
He tells me he
’
s looking for a job in the agency.
”

“
Who, Smitty? Smitty doesn
’
t have the intelligence of an Airedale. He can
’
t tell the difference between a nickel and a quarter. How
’
s he gonna be in the agency?
”

“
He says Antheil
’
ll get him in.
”

“
Sure. He can be wha
tever he wants. He can be gover
nor, he can fly. That
’
s what Antheil tells him.
”

“
What does he tell you?
”

Danskin shook his head slowly.
“
Don
’
t, man.
”

“
Just curiosity,
”
Converse said.
“
I know why Smitty works for him. I couldn
’
t help wondering why you did.
”

“
I like it. I
’
m a student of the passing parade.
”

Smitty appeared at the top of the rock; his arms flapped
loosely at his sides as he scampered down the face of it. He waddled in a contracting circle beside the water and sprawled on the ground.

“
Hey, man,
”
Smitty called happily.

Danskin smiled indulgently down at him.

“
Hey, Smitty.
”

“
You know what, Danskin? It
’
s too bad we can
’
t have a fire.
”

“
It
’
s too bad we can
’
t toast marshmallows. It
’
s too bad we can
’
t have a sing-a-ling.
”
Asthmatic laughter shook him, he wrinkled the folds of flesh around his eyes.
“
You
’
re a child.
”

Danskin walked over to where Smitty lay and stood over him.

“
You want me to tell you scary stories?
”

Giggling, Smitty covered up and crawled away from Danskin
’
s feet.
“
No, man.
”

“
All right for you. No stories.
”
He turned to Converse and his stare hardened.

“
Why don
’
t you tell us about Vietnam? What did you do there besides cop scag?
”

“
I hung around.
”

“
That
’
s all?
”

“
Once I went up the Mekong on a patrol craft with the Navy. And I went into Cambodia with the First Division.
”