Chapter Ten
You grab a shower and shave and run your hand through your hair and then put your pants and shirt and underwear and socks into the laundry bag and kneel down and open your coffin locker and pull out jeans, not bellbottoms, and white socks, not black, and a red cotton shirt, not blue denim, and sneakers, not boots, and you hop around six other guys and put on these clothes and feel lighter and freer and looser but you know that you still smell like fuel oil and JP-5[99] and steel and bilge water and ship.
But still the commodore lifted the base restriction which means you can actually go out in town, but watch your ass because this part of Spain is pretty Muslim and right now your fellow squids are pounding Muslims over in Iraq, you read in the ship’s shitty little paper the fuck-off JOs[100] write that the Air Farce and the Navy are flying something like a thousand missions a day, and dropping tons and tons and tons of bombs on the Iraqis, and now the battleships are pulling up to shore and firing those big fucking sixteen inch guns at the Republican Guard, and still you hear how there’s going to be like 15,000 casualties when we do invade their asses.
And you wonder what it’s like to be cruising in at like a thousand miles an hour in a little plastic bubble with your breath in your ears, and a little screen telling you to drop, drop, drop right now or hear the sirens going off as you hunker down in your basement and wait for those big fucking bombs to rain down on your ass.
And on the hangar bay you run into Mike and he’s got two of his buddies from the personnel office with him and the four of you get your asses across the quarterdeck to request permission to leave the ship, very well turn and face the stern and then across the brow across the oily black water and then tumble down the stairs and out on the pier, and you breathe really deeply and somehow it is suddenly all funny that you are in Spain and going out for a beer.
So it’s about ten o’clock you are pretty hammered and liberty expires at midnight, and just like you know it’s going to happen one of Mike’s buddies, the tall guy with the mustache says let’s get laid and so you cut down a street and another in the dark cold your feet rattling down the stones and your jokes and your laughs making little puffs in the cold sharp air and then the Mustache Guy, he’s a second class, says there it is and I hope Rita remembers me and then you are all at the door to the whorehouse and you stop outside while the other three guys go in and you look up at the sky and think about it and then you go in anyway.
And inside its dark and smoky, and there’s a long room with a bar at one end, and all these benches along the walls, and a Budweiser sign over the bar above the head of this big guy who is looking at you guys like he’s pissed at you, but he pours quatro cervasas por favor into little dirty narrow glasses and you all dig around in your pockets and get out the pesos and slide them on the bar and order quatro more beers, and then while he’s pouring you see that the other three guys are turned around and you turn around with them and lean against the bar while this pretty fat chick with a long skirt and big brown eyes and huge tits comes towards you, and you can see that she’s old and you hope that you don’t get her.
But she’s the owner and her name is Rita and she says she remembers the Mustache Guy, whose name you still can’t remember, and he talks to her in a little Spanish and a little English and then he turns around and says that Rita’s got four girls for us, and Rita goes to the stairs in the corner by the door and hollers something in Spanish up the stairs, and you can hear footsteps across the ceiling and then they come to the stairs, and then the girls come down the stairs, but the Mustache Guy tells you he’s going with Rita, at least for the first time, and you all say how much and the Mustache Guy says it’s 20 pesos each time, and you all check your pockets and Mike is down to 13 so his other friend, this dorky-looking skinny third class who is still wearing his BC glasses, gives him twenty and then the girls are in front of you and the Mustache Guy is already at the stairs pushing at Rita’s butt as she trundles up in front of him and then suddenly it’s very quiet.
And you look up at the four girls in front of you, and they stand in front of you in tight shorts and tight shirts with their tits pushing out at you, and their asses and their smooth brown legs, and then the Dork some how reaches out first and takes the hand of the best-looking one with long dark hair and she nods and then they walk to the stairs and go up and then it’s just you and Mike, and Mike says which one do you want and you shrug because you are really not sure what the fuck you are going to do about this and then Mike says don’t worry you got a rubber, right and you do and there it is in your front left pants pocket and Mike says you can’t catch anything if you got a rubber on.
Then Mike says fuck it I’m tired of beating off, I’m getting laid and he grabs the hand of the tall one who has braces and a shirt that says Saint Louis Cardinals on it, and then they’re gone up the stairs and you look up to hear their footsteps walk across the ceiling, and when you look down its just you and the bartender who is watching soccer on the television, and these two girls.
You drink the rest of your beer and reach around and pick another off the bar and then you turn to face the girls and the one on the right is taller and she has a scar that curls up the corner of her lip and runs up to her eyebrow, and her hair is short and her neck is shaved and she has about twenty rings all over her fingers and she raises her eyebrow, not the scarred one but the other, in a question and the one on the left is shorter and her hair is curly and runs down over her shoulders and she has a loose green tank top on and one strap is off her shoulder, and she’s a little chunkier and has on high heels with a broken strap on one, and she looks like she’s about fifteen and you say to her hi.
And she kind of smiles a little and then you drink the rest of that beer and reach around behind you without looking for another beer and you knock over a glass on the bar, and you turn and see the beer run across the metal top and make a puddle, and the bartender turns from the soccer game and frowns at you and he pulls a rag off his shoulder and comes over and wipes up the beer, and you take another beer and turn around and look at the girls and drink that one too.
You say hi again and the tall girl on the right makes a face and puts her hand on her hip and taps her foot, and the young girl smiles at you and then you hear the Mustache Guy come clumping down the stairs and he comes over to you and says that’s a load off my mind and Rita’s chunky but the girl knows how to fuck a guy, and he sees that there are no more beers and then you turn back to the bartender and say quatro cervasas por favor and pay for them all.
While the bartender is filling up four more beers and sliding them one by one over to you, the Mustache Guy, he says haven’t you gone up yet it’s eleven o’clock and we got to get out of here by eleven-thirty to make it back to the boat on time and you say that you’re trying to decide and he says hell if you don’t want them then I’ll take them both, and he turns to the taller one and says how much for two how much cuanto por dos chickitas and then tall one nods, she understands and says trente y cinco pesos and the Mustache Guy reaches into his pockets and has twenty-five pesos and says to you lend me ten pesos and you say no.
And the Mustache Guy says c’mon you pussy, lend me ten fucking pesos… if you don’t want to get laid then let me, and you see the Dork come down the stairs acting like he’s zipping up his pants and he comes over and is smiling, and says how’s it going and the Mustache Guy it’s going great and that these two gals will both do him for thirty and that this dickhead won’t lend me five fucking pesos and then the Dork says I’ll give you ten and I’ll do them both with you and the young girl is looking nervous and you say wait I’m doing this one and you point at the young girl.
And the Mustache Guy and the Dork are both pissed, and the Mustache Guy says no way bro I called her first and me and Wilkerson, who is the Dork, are going to go rodeo on them we’re going front and back and you say no and grab the hand of the young girl, and she looks scared and then the Dork shoves you back against the bar and sa
ys watch it bitch, and you push away from the bar and give him a shove and then the bartender is over the bar and standing between you breathing hard, and then the Dork says fuck you and the Mustache Guy says let him have her, we’ll take this one and says to the tall girl how much for the two of us cuanto por dos muchachos and the tall one says trente pesos and then the Mustache Guy says let him have the little one, at least we know he’s not some homo or something.
And then they are gone and you are left standing there with the young girl, and you see that you are still holding her hand and then she tugs at you, puts her head toward the stairs, and then pulls you across the cracked tile floor to the steps, her hand soft and moist and warm in your hand, and then up them and through a old door with a broken hinge, and then into a hallway and down the hallway to the end, and into a room on the left, with one light, a table lamp with a sideways shade that throws shadows on the wall, and you walk past it and sit on the bed and see your shadow on the wall and then hers when she sits down next to you and you hand her twenty pesos.
And she takes it and pretends to kiss it and puts it into an old envelope and then in one second pulls her top off and you can see how her tits are smooth and small and how one nipple is pushed in and then she reaches down and unbuckles your jeans and starts to tug them down, and then you put your hand out and it lands on one of her tits and you can feel how soft her skin is, and she smiles and leans to kiss you and you can see that one of her front teeth is broken off like a cracked bottle top.
Then you pull your hand back and stand up and pull up your jeans over your cock which is hard as a rock, and you zip them up over your boner and then reach into your pocket and pull out all the paper and coins in there and you say to her no more you take this and don’t do this anymore and you pick up the envelope and, and shove all the money and coins in there and you, you hand it to her and you say no more no mas you don’t do this any more no mas you understand and your voice is shaking like you are going to cry or some shit and she takes the envelope from you and sets it on the bed and picks up her shirt and pulls it over her head and picks the envelope back up and looks at you and says okay and then she goes back out in to the hallway, and down the hallway out of sight and you sit on the edge of the dank dark dirty mattress like the one on your rack with one sheet and a flat pillow and shut your eyes as tightly as you can.
And later you go out into the hallway and walk past Mike, and go down the stairs and out the door, and in to the cold Spanish night with your breath foggy in the air and down the stone streets past the dull lamps and the houses with the Spanish kids and office workers and pier guys and teachers and firemen and policemen and past the houses and the bar-tobacs and the smash sandwich stand and the drunk singing Marines, on to the base down the pier up the stairs and across the brow, and then stand swaying on the quarterdeck and say permission to come board sir.