hemingway, ernest - islands in the stream-第94章
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t； running quality of the bird and the background was a long beach with coconut palms。
Then he remembered one time when they were in a tourist camp。 He had wakened early and Tom was still asleep。 He lay on his back with his arms crossed and he looked like the sculpture of a young knight lying on his tomb。 Thomas Hudson had sketched him that way using a tomb that he remembered from Salisbury Cathedral。 He was going to paint a canvas of it later but he did not do it because he thought it could be bad luck。 A lot of good that did； he thought。
He looked Into the sun that was low now and he could see Tom high up in the sun in a Spitfire。 The aircraft was very high and very tiny and it shone like a fragment of broken mirror。 He liked it up there； he said to himself。 And it was a good rule you made about not drinking。
But over half of the drink was still in the paper…wrapped glass and there was still ice in it。
Courtesy of Peters； he thought。 Then he remembered when they lived on the island in the old days and how Tom had read about the ice age at school and he was afraid it would come again。
¨Papa；〃 he had said。 ¨That is my only worry。〃
¨It canˇt hit here；〃 Thomas Hudson had said。
¨I know。 But I canˇt stand to think what it will do to all those people in Minnesota and Wisconsin and Michigan。 Even Illinois and Indiana。〃
¨I donˇt think we really have to worry about it；〃 Thomas Hudson had said。 ¨Itˇs a dreadfully slow process if it comes。〃
¨I know；〃 young Tom had said。 ¨But thatˇs the only thing I every really worry about。 That and the extinction of the passenger pigeon。〃
That Tom； he thought； and put the drink into one of the empty frag holes and glassed the keys carefully。 He saw nothing that might be a sailing skiff and he put the glasses down。
The best times they had； he thought； were on the island and out West。 Except Europe； of course； and if I think about that Iˇll think about the girl and it will be worse。 I wonder where she is now。 Sleeping with some general； I suppose。 Well； I hope she gets a good one。
She looked awfully well and very beautiful when I saw her in Havana。 I could think about her all night。 But I wonˇt。 It is indulgence enough to think about Tom。 I wouldnˇt do that without the drink。 Iˇm glad I took it； though。 There is a time to break all your rules。 Maybe not all。 I will think about him for a while and then I will work out our small problem for tonight when Willie and Ara get back。 Theyˇre a wonderful team。 Willie learned that awful Spanish in the Philippines but they understand each other perfectly。 Some of that is because Ara is a Basque and speaks bad Spanish； too。 Christ； Iˇd hate to go aboard that hulk after Willie and Ara rig her。
Go ahead and drink the rest of your drink and think about something good。 Tomˇs dead and itˇs all right to think about him。 Youˇll never get over it。 But you are solid on it now。 Remember some good happy times。 You had plenty。
What were the happiest times？ he thought。 They were all happy； really； in the time of innocence and the lack of useless money and still being able to work and eat。 A bicycle was more fun than a motorcar。 You saw things better and it kept you in good shape and coming home after you had ridden in the Bois you could coast down the Champs ？lysees well past the Rond…Point and when you looked back to see what was behind you there； with the traffic moving in two streams； there rose the high gray of the great arch against the dusk。 The horse chestnuts would be in bloom now。 The trees would be black in the dusk as he pedalled now toward the Place de la Concorde and the upstanding blooms would be white and waxen。 He would get off the racing bicycle to push it along the gravel path and see the horse chestnut trees slowly； and feel them overhead as he pushed the bicycle and felt the gravel under the thin soles of his shoes。 He had bought this pair of racing shoes second…hand from a waiter he knew at the Select who had been an Olympic champion and he had paid for them by painting a canvas of the proprietor the way the proprietor had wished to be painted。
¨A little in the style of Manet； Monsieur Hudson。 If you can do it。〃
It was not a Manet that Manet would have signed but it looked more like Manet than it did like Hudson and it looked exactly like the proprietor。 Thomas Hudson got the money for the bicycle shoes from it and for a long time they could have drinks on the house as well。 Finally one night when he offered to pay for a drink； the offer was accepted and Thomas Hudson knew that payment on the portrait had been finished。
There was a waiter at the Closerie des Lilas who liked them and always gave them double…sized drinks so that by adding water they needed only one for the evening。 So they moved down there。 They would put Tom to bed and sit there together in the evenings at the old caf？； completely happy to be with each other。 Then they would take a walk through the dark streets of the Montagne Sainte…Genevi？ve where the old houses had not yet been torn down and try to come home some different way each night。 They would go to bed and hear Tom breathing in his cot and the purring of the big cat that slept with him。
Thomas Hudson remembered how people were horrified that they let the cat sleep with the small boy and that they left him alone when they went out。 But Tom always slept well and if he woke up； there was the cat； who was his best friend。 The cat would let no one near the bed and he and Tom loved each other very much。
Now Tom wasthe hell with that； he said to himself。 It is something that happens to everybody。 I should know about that by now。 It is the only thing that is really final； though。
How do you know that？ he asked himself。 Going away can be final。 Walking out the door can be final。 Any form of real betrayal can be final。 Dishonesty can be final。 Selling out is final。 But you are just talking now。 Death is what is really final。 I wish Ara and Willie would get back。 They must be rigging that hulk up like a chamber of horrors。 Iˇve never liked to kill； ever。 But Willie loves it。 He is a strange boy and very good； too。 He is just never satisfied that a thing cannot be done better。
He saw the dinghy coining。 Then he heard her purring hum and then he watched her get clearer and bigger and then she was alongside。
Willie came up。 He looked worse than ever and his bad eye was showing too much white。 He drew himself up； saluted smartly； and said； ¨Permission to speak to the captain； sir？〃
¨Are you drunk？〃
¨No； Tommy。 Enthusiastic。〃
¨Youˇve been drinking。〃
¨Sure； Tom。 We took a little rum with us for working around that cadaver。 And then when we got through Ara urinated in the bottle and then booby…trapped the bottle。 Itˇs double booby…trapped。〃
¨Did you rig her good？〃
¨Tommy； a little tiny gnome no bigger than a manˇs hand couldnˇt get on her without being blown clean back to gnome land。 A cockroach couldnˇt crawl on her。 Ara was afraid the flies on the cadaver would set her off。 We trapped her beautifully and delicately。〃
¨Whatˇs Ara doing？〃
¨Heˇs disassembling and cleaning everything in a frenzy of enthusiasm。〃
¨How much rum did you guys take？〃
¨Less than half a bottle。 It was my idea。 It wasnˇt Araˇs。〃
¨OK。 Get the hell down with him and clean the weapons and check the 。50ˇs。〃
¨You canˇt check them really without firing them。〃
¨I know。 But you check them completely without firing them。 Throw away the ammo thatˇs been in the breeches。〃
¨Thatˇs smart。〃
¨Tell Henry to come up here and bring me a small glass of this and tell him to bring a drink for himself。 Antonio knows what this drink is。〃
¨Iˇm glad youˇre drinking a little again； Tom。〃
¨For Christˇs sake； donˇt be glad or sad about whether Iˇm drinking or not drinking。〃
¨OK； Tom。 But I donˇt like to see you ride yourself like a horse riding on a horseˇs back。 Why donˇt you be like a centaur？〃
¨Where did you learn about centaurs？〃
¨I read it in a book； Tommy。 Iˇm educated。 Iˇm educated far beyond my years。〃
¨Youˇre a good old son of a bitch；〃 Thomas Hudson told him。 ¨Now get the hell
