Dog Soldiers by Robert Stone Page B

”
    “ Why, you little shit, ” Hicks said.
    She hung up.
    “ Interrigence the fuck indeed, ” Hicks said aloud. Her English had improved incredibly. “ You little shit. ”
    As he fumbled for another dime, a black girl in an imita tion leather overcoat walked by the booth. Hicks smiled at her absently, forgetting that his smile was missing its upper right corner. The girl stared at him and raised her eyes so that the whites were exposed and the irises fluttered under batting lids. Fuck off. As she went by, he blundered into eye contact with the other members of her party — three young men in black leatherette coats and pastel slouch hats. They were not amused.
    “ Asshole, ” he said to himself.
    He kept looking back at them as he dialed. When June answered, he turned his back.
    “ Hello, June. ”
    “ Is that Ray? ” She sounded ripped.
    “ Right, ” Hicks said. “ I ’ m down here in Oakland. I ’ m fucked up and there ain ’ t a white face in the joint. I want to make my will. ”
    “ Your will? ”
    “ Forget it, ” he said. Laughs were hard to come by.
    “ Owen is here, ” June said.
    “ Owen is here! Terrific. Lemme talk to Owen. I ’ ll call you tomorrow, O.K.? ”
    “ Uh-uh, ” June said. “ I don ’ t want you to call me. ”
    It was Dumb Question Night.
    “ Why not? ”
    “ Owen is gonna kill you if he sees you. You know he ’ s like armed, man. He ’ s insane with rage. ”
    Hicks shook his head. Someone tapped on the booth door with a coin. “ If he ’ s insane with rage I won ’ t trouble him. Can he hear you? ”
    “ He ’ s out in the garage working over the machine, like I don ’ t even want him to catch me on the phone. ”
    “ He wouldn ’ t turn me, would he, June? He wouldn ’ t narc me over? ”
    “ I don ’ t think so. Just don ’ t be around. ”
    “ You asshole, ” Hicks said. “ You told him. What did you tell him for? ”
    “ Oh, man, ” June said. “ Who knows why they do the shit they do? ”
    “ The desires of the heart, ” Hicks said, “ are as crooked as a corkscrew. ”
    “ That ’ s about how it is, ” June said.
    He held the receiver, hooked up with the general static. The bloods at the table were broadcasting cocaine vibra tions. From his pocket he took the slip of United Seaman ’ s Service stationery which had Marge ’ s phone number writ ten on it. When he had done that, he threw a snappy little hand signal to absolutely no one at a point beside the door. One of th e bloods turned to check it out.
    “ Odeon, ” the voice said. Hicks smiled. A collegiate whine.
    “ Marge? ”
    “ Yes? ”
    “ This is Ray. ”
    “ Oh, ” she said. “ Hi. ”
    It was nic e to be important.
    “ I ’ ll fall by early tomorrow. Everything O.K.? ”
    “ Yes. Yes, all right. ”
    “ See you then. ”
    “ See you then. ”
    He left the phone booth and went quickly out to the street. For a while he walked away from the bay, toward the hills and the lights. In the first block he came to, there were two winos butting shoulders to see which of them could knock the other down. The stopped the game as he came up and approached as though they would panhandle him, but as he passed them they only stood panting and stared.
    “ I ’ m the one in the middle, ” Hicks told them.
    In the next block a camperload of freaks sat eating white bread and bologna sandwiches on the sidewalk beside their vehicle. Hicks paused to watch them eat. One of the boys turned around to glare at him and he was offended. “ I ’ ll fuck every one of you, ” he declared.
    “ Oh, wow ” one of the girls said through a mouthful of bread and meat. They turned their backs on him.
    “ I was only kidding, ” Hicks said. “ I wouldn ’ t really. ”
    In a third block was a bar with playing cards and wheels of fortune painted on the windows. The inside walls were dark blue and decorated wi th the same symbols but the cus tomers were mainly old men. Whatever arcane scene