by Robert Roth
These same thoughts repeated themselves in Chalice’s mind, but their force gradually lessened. He still asked himself, ‘Why?’ And while his own guilt continued to scare and bewilder him, a single question fought against this guilt. ‘Could I have stopped them?’ He derived both absolution and degradation from his answer — ‘No!’ It was true, undeniably; but what about himself? No one had made him reach for the flesh. Pablo — of course — refused. Tony 5 also. Even Payne hesitated. Chalice searched for an answer, never believing he would find one. Had he done it from fear — scared his refusal would isolate him? No, he was sure this wasn’t the reason. He tried to recapture his thoughts, to see behind the wildly laughing jester he had been. ‘Laughter? Why was I laughing?’ Maybe the answer to this question would explain everything. He tried to picture himself madly waving the skull. It seemed even more pathetic now. Suddenly, the mad figure fused with the one now huddled against the wall of the temple. By trying to understand that figure, Chalice realized he had become him. Without consciously searching for a description, the word despair seemed to fix upon both of them. Chalice felt himself to be close to the truth. ‘But despair over what?’
Searching for the cause, he felt a revulsion for the state itself. For the first time he realized that only he had waved the skull, only he now sat alone and brooding in the shrine. His own ‘weakness’ disgusted him. He refused to think about it anymore. Even now, when he had finally derived at least a scantling of sense from it, perhaps been on the verge of understanding, he willfully cast these thoughts from his mind, forced himself to stop.
He took the small, red notebook from his pocket. In an unsure hand he began to write, refusing to delve for meaning, telling himself he was still too close to it and now wasn’t the time. He nervously thumbed through some earlier pages, remembering forgotten incidents, glad he had written them down, saying to himself, ‘It’s all here.’ There had to be a pattern. Only by putting everything together into a book would he understand this pattern. He came to the pages he had just written, again seeing Childs with the knife. Chalice shook his head as he got to his feet and put the notebook back into his pocket. ‘Who’d believe it? God, who the hell would believe it?’
Hamilton was walking towards the LZ when he spotted Childs leaning against an ammo bunker. Childs had his head down as he massaged the lump on his arm. He heard Hamilton’s footsteps and looked up. “What have you got your fighting gear on for?”
“I’m going in to An Hoa.”
“How’d you manage that?” Childs asked with disgust.
“I got a letter from my parents saying they haven’t gotten my allotment for two months. Kramer’s sending me to the paymaster to straighten things out.”
“I don’t wanna bring you down, but guess what I heard?”
“We’re going into the Arizona,” Hamilton said calmly.
A surprised look crossed Childs’s face. “How’d you know?”
It was now Hamilton’s turn to be surprised. “We are? Sonofabitch! I just said the worst thing I could think of. Are you sure?”
“One of the Gook chicks that works in the officers’ mess told me.”
“Maybe it’s just a rumor,” Hamilton said with relief.
“No chance. Remember how I found out a week ahead the last time?” Hamilton nodded. “Well she was the one that told me.”
“It still might be a rumor.”
“What difference does it make? The bad rumors always turn out right, and the good rumors always get forgotten.”
“Well, at least I get to go to An Hoa for a day.”
“Wish I was going with you. These fucked-up working parties are gonna drive me nuts. . . . Wait a minute! What do you say we go to Da Nang for some R and R?”
“How the fuck can we manage that?”
“Let’s see.” Childs paused as he began thinking to himself. “I got it! Don’t check in at An Hoa. Go straight to the paymaster and get it taken care of right away. When we get back, you can say you had to stay over an extra day, and by the time you got through you couldn’t get a chopper out. That’ll give us tonight and tomorrow in Da Nang.”
“Sounds good, but what if I do have to stay over in An Hoa?”
“We’ll worry about that if it happens.”
“Okay, but how are you gonna swing it?”
Childs paused for a few seconds, then said, “I just saw Kramer get on a chopper. That means Kovacs is in charge. I’ll tell him the doc’s sending me to Da Nang to get my leg X-rayed to see if there’s any shrapnel in it.”
“Kovacs knows it was just a scratch. Besides, he’ll want to see your orders.”
“Naw, even if he thinks I’m trying to skate, he’ll let me go. He’s only got a few more days in-country and he don’t give a shit.” Hamilton’s expression indicated that he was having second thoughts. “What’s the matter?”
“I don’t know. . . . We’re taking a big chance.”
“Chance about what? Da Nang, baby, Da Nang — it’ll be worth it.”
“Okay, let’s hurry up.”
When Childs told him his story, Kovacs immediately became suspicious; and after staring at him for a few seconds, he was sure it was a lie. About to ask to see the orders, Kovacs realized that there wasn’t much point in keeping Childs around just for the working parties. “You better be back as soon as you can. Now get the fuck out of here.”
Hamilton and Childs reached An Hoa in less than an hour. They went directly to the paymaster without checking in at the company office. Within another hour they were on a helicopter headed for Da Nang. As soon as it landed, Hamilton became nervous. “What if the MP’s ask for our orders?”
“Listen man, you keep walking around with that look on your face, and they sure as hell will.”
“What look?”
“Man, you gotta walk around like you own this place. As long as you do, nobody’ll bug you, I don’t care if you’re in VC pajamas with an AK slung across your shoulder.”
Childs and Hamilton stashed their packs and other equipment in one of the barracks at the Ninth Motor Division, then hitched a ride into Da Nang on a supply truck. As they got closer to the center of town, the streets became clogged with old cars, motorcycles, and bicycles. The truck was hardly making any progress when Hamilton noticed young girls standing in practically every doorway. He flung open the door and started to jump out just as the truck lurched forward. Childs was barely able to grab him before he could fall to the street. “What the fuck you doing?”
Hamilton answered in an excited voice, “This place is loaded with syclo girls.”
“Well, no shit. What did you expect?”
“C’mon, let’s get out.”
Childs turned to the driver. “You better let us out before my partner comes in his pants.”
The truck stopped, and Hamilton was halfway out when he found himself staring at two sets of MP armbands. He casually spat on the street and slammed the door shut. The driver also saw the MP’s and quickly accelerated the truck. “Man, that was close,” Hamilton commented.
Childs said irritably, “If you can’t keep that paranoid look off your face, we’ll get picked up in two minutes.”
The driver went another few blocks before letting them off right in front of a whorehouse. A young girl was standing in the doorway, and Hamilton almost knocked her over on the way inside. “Will you please take it easy?” Childs begged him.
“I am, I am,” Hamilton answered as he stared at the prostitute, his tongue running over his upper lip.
“You want boom-boom?” she asked with a smile.
“Yeah, yeah, boom-boom.”
The prostitute coyly stuck out her hand. “Five dollar.”
Hamilton fumbled in his pocket for the money as another prostitute came from the rear of the room and stood smiling in front of Childs. The shack was a crude combination of bamboo, cardboard, and thatch. A few carelessly placed candles provided the only light.
The girls led them to the rear of the shack w
here two cribs were separated from the rest of the room by cardboard partitions. As soon as she and Childs were alone, the girl began undressing, giggling as she did so. The musty smell of the crib nauseated Childs. He nervously began to undress as the girl slipped off the last of her clothing and sat down upon a thin mattress lying on the floor. She coyly motioned for him to finish undressing, and he became more nervous as she watched.
Childs hesitated as he stood naked staring down at her. Then, in one self-conscious motion, he practically dived on top of her. She gasped and tried to support him with her hands until she could catch her breath. For the first time, he became aware of the laughter and strenuous breathing coming from the other side of the partition. He lay motionless on top of the girl until he noticed her peering questioningly through his glasses.
Childs cleared his throat and started shifting his body around trying to enter her. She waited patiently for a few seconds before reaching down and helping him. He nodded his head to thank her, and she began to giggle. Now even more self-conscious, he again became aware of the laughter and heavy breathing coming from Hamilton’s side of the partition.
Childs lay motionless until the girl started moving beneath him. Remembering what was expected of him, he also started to move. Sweat dripped down his forehead onto the lenses of his glasses. When he tried to wipe them, they fell on top of her. Her laughter stopped him from putting them back on.
They began again. After she had to replace him inside herself two more times, Childs decided to let her do most of the work. He soon became a dead weight on top of her. Still struggling beneath him, she finally realized he’d reached a climax and collapsed with a laugh. “You baby,” she giggled as Childs scrambled off her.
Childs dressed hurriedly and walked out of the crib. He was waiting for Hamilton to finish when the prostitute joined him. She tried to suppress a giggle as Childs shifted his glance away from her. Seeing this, he called out in an exasperated tone, “Hamilton, hurry up!”
The sounds from the other side of the partition stopped, and Hamilton asked with disbelief, “You’re done already?”
“Yeah,” Childs answered irritably, “why? — I mean I was horny.”
“You sure must have been.”
“I was. Now hurry up!”
A few minutes later, Hamilton came walking out with a big grin on his face. “That sure was good, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, let’s get out of here.”
“Sure man, but what’s your hurry?”
“We ain’t gonna be here very long, so we might as well make the most of it.”
“That’s exactly what I was doing, exactly.”
They emerged into the street to find it even more crowded than before. The air was tainted with the smells of automobile exhausts, raw sewage, and cooking food. The street seemed to be lined by two endless rows of bordellos, each with a young girl at the entrance beckoning them to enter. On numerous occasions, Childs had to grab Hamilton by the arm and drag him away. Young children continually approached them begging for handouts. A line of slowly moving cars clogged the street, many of them honking their horns. Motorcycles squeezed between and beside the cars, seemingly mocking their impotency. Bicycles were forced to move along the crude paths that served as sidewalks, doing so by weaving between the street vendors’ wares that lined them. These wares ranged from goods stolen from American supplies to exotic-looking vegetables. More than once Hamilton was approached by teenagers offering to sell him thuoc phim, the Vietnamese words for marijuana. He’d shake his head and walk by, knowing that Childs had brought plenty. After ten minutes of trying to keep pace with Childs, he grabbed his arm and asked, “Hey, where are we going?”
“Let’s see what’s here. Maybe we’ll find a bar.”
“Who needs a bar? You brought some herb, didn’t you? Let’s run one now.”
“Where?”
“Let’s go in one of these whorehouses.”
“We just got laid,” Childs protested.
“So what? . . . Well, if you don’t wanna get laid, we can just give them a buck to let us smoke there.”
Hamilton stepped into the next whorehouse, and Childs followed. It was almost a replica of the previous one. The prostitute at the door immediately asked, “You want boom-boom?”
Hamilton pointed to Childs who was pulling a joint from his pocket. After a few seconds of pantomime, the girls accepted a dollar each and led them to one of the cribs. Childs was about to light the joint when he heard someone enter the shack and call out, “Mamasan, it’s the tax collector.” He stashed it just as an MP stuck his head inside the crib. “What the fuck you doing here?”
“Just getting laid,” Hamilton answered nervously.
“You know damn well these whorehouses are off limits. Get the fuck out of here, and hurry up before I change my mind.”
Hamilton scrambled to his feet and headed for the door, while Childs casually followed behind him.
“I’m doing you a favor. You might have got the black siff in here.” When they were outside, Hamilton said, “That was close. Those guys are usually real bastards.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? He didn’t impress me as anything but a bastard.”
“He could of taken us in.”
“Didn’t you hear that taxman bullshit. He was just in a hurry to get laid.”
Hamilton stopped walking. “Why that sonofabitch! Here he’s got a skating job in Da Nang while we’re busting our asses in the bush, and he can’t even let us get laid.”
“You mean smoke a joint.”
“That’s got nothing to do with it. . . . Let’s go back.”
“Are you crazy? What for?”
“To kick his ass.”
“You sure as hell got fearless all of a sudden.”
Hamilton’s tone became even angrier. “I sure as hell wasn’t scared of that pussy. It was the armband he was wearing.”
“He’s still wearing it.”
“I don’t give a shit. Let’s go back. What can they do — send us to Nam?”
“Guess the brig’s no worse than the Arizona.”
Hamilton headed back towards the whorehouse at a fast walk. Bursting through the entrance, he went directly to the crib with the drawn curtains and flung them open. The startled MP lay naked between the girl’s legs. He started to curse, but seeing the expression on Hamilton’s face, cut himself short.
“You sonofabitch,” Hamilton spit through his teeth.
Hamilton took a step towards him. “You cocksuckin’ sonofabitch.”
Childs restrained him. “Wait, I got a better idea.”
“Nothing could be better than beating him to a pulp.”
The prostitute moved out of the way, and the MP faced Childs and Hamilton in a kneeling position. “Take it easy you guys. I’m just doing my job.”
“Nice job you got there,” Childs sneered. Hamilton began to walk forward. “Wait, I told you I got a better idea. Get his gun.”
The MP reached for the pistol that lay on top of his clothes. Hamilton leaped forward, smashing his heel down on the MP’s hand and picking up the pistol in the same motion. Holding it a few inches from the MP’s face, he asked, “Okay, what’s your idea?”
The MP inched backwards on his knees as Childs spoke. “Let’s take his clothes.”
Hamilton broke into a grin. “Yeah, get ’em.”
As Childs gathered the clothes together, the MP pleaded, “C’mon, you guys. You can’t do that to me. . . . I’m a Marine too.”
Childs replied. “We’re doing you a favor, Marine. You could of got the black siff in here.”
“You’re a skatin’, chicken-shit sonofabitch,” Hamilton cursed through his teeth before turning to Childs and saying, “Let’s get out of here.”
When Hamilton turned back towards the MP, he saw him getting to his feet and moving closer. Hamilton viciously kicked him backwards, then stomped on his balls. Incited by the MP’s moans, Hamilton smashed his other foot down on his f
ace, and was about to stomp him again when Childs jerked him away.
They ran down the street, Childs holding the bundle of clothes and Hamilton waving the pistol. Noticing people staring at him, Hamilton shoved the pistol into his belt. Childs began to tire. He spotted a garbage can and stuffed the clothes into it.
As they walked away, Hamilton said, “You know, that should of been funny; but I’m so pissed off at that sonofabitch, it isn’t.”
“I know what you mean. All they’ve got to do is stick an MP armband on those turds, and they’ve got an instant lifer. . . . It’ll get funnier as we think about it.”
It did get funnier. They wandered casually through the streets until the sky began to darken, then decided to look for a bar. They had completely forgotten about the MP when two more MP’s rode by in a jeep. A third American sitting in the back seat wrapped in a kimono began to point wildly at them. The jeep driver attempted a U-turn only to end up stuck between a truck and a car. Hamilton and Childs ran into an alley. As they darted across the street at its opposite end, another jeep made a U-turn and followed them. They dashed down the sidewalk only to be cut off by this same jeep. Hamilton put his hands up, but Childs recognized the driver, a lanky, black Marine. “Delaney!”
They dove into the jeep and told him to get moving while explaining that the MP’s were after them. The jeep shot backwards, then tore down the street. After Delaney had taken numerous corners on two wheels, Childs’s nervous pleas finally got him to slow down. Delaney smiled as he said, “I thought it was you guys, especially when I saw you running.”
