I'll get one.' Andre went to the door and Bruce noticed his expression.
It was stricken beyond the pain of a bruised wrist. What lovely
creatures they are, thought Bruce, and I am one of them and yet apart
from them. I am the watcher, stiffed by them as much as I would be by a
bad play. Andre went out.
'Another drink, Bucko?' said Wally expansively. 'I'll even pour you
one.' 'Thanks,' said Bruce, and started on the other boot.
Wally brought the glass to him and he tasted it. It was strong, and the
mustiness of the whisky was ill-matched with the sweetness of the beer,
but he drank it.
'You and I, said Wally, 'we're the shrewd ones. We drink ,cause we want
to, not 'cause we have to. We live like we want to live, not
like other people think we should. You and I got a lot in common, Bruce.
We should be friends, you and I. I mean us being so much alike.' The
drink was working in him now, bluffing his speech a little.
'Of course we are friends - I count you as one of my very dearest,
Wally.' Bruce spoke solemnly, no trace of sarcasm showing.
'No kidding?' Wally asked earnestly. 'How's that, hey?
Christ, I always thought you didn't like me. Christ, you never can tell,
isn't that right? You just never can tell,' shaking his head in wonder,
suddenly sentimental with the whisky. 'That's really true?
You like me. Yeah, we could be buddies. How's that, Bruce? Every guy
needs a buddy. Every guy needs a back stop.' 'Sure,' said Bruce.
'We're buddies. How's that, hey?'
'That's on, Bucko!' agreed Wally with deep feeling, and I feel nothing,
thought Bruce, no disgust, no
pity - nothing. That way you are secure; they cannot disappoint you,
they cannot disgust you, they cannot sicken you, they cannot smash you
up again.
They both looked up as Andre ushered the girl into the room. She had a
sexy little pug face, painted lips - ruby on amber.
'Well done, Andre,' applauded Wally, looking at the girl's body.
She wore high heels and a short pink dress that flared into a skirt from
her waist but did not cover her knees.
'Come here, cookie.' Wally held out his hand to her and she crossed the
room without hesitation, smiling a bright professional smile. Wally drew
her down beside him on to the bed.
Andre went on standing in the doorway. Bruce got up and shrugged into
his camouflage battle-jacket, buckled on his webbing belt and adjusted
the bolstered pistol until it hung comfortably on his outer thigh.
'Are you going?' Wally was feeding the girl from his glass.
'Yes.' Bruce put his slouch hat on his head; the red, green and white
Katangese sideflash gave him an air of artificial gaiety.
'Stay a little, - come on, Bruce.'
'Mike is waiting for me.' Bruce
picked up his rifle.
'Muck him. Stay a little, we'll have some fun.'
'No, thanks.'
Bruce went to the door.
'Hey, Bruce. Take a look at this.' Wally tipped the girl backwards over
