Ernest Hemingway - Complete Short Stories Of Ernest Hemingway, The

“You got to take a cure, Billy,” Mr. Turner said. “You won’t mind the Keeley. It isn’t bad.”

“The Keeley,” William Campbell said. “It isn’t far from London.” He shut his eyes and opened them, moving the eyelashes against the sheet. “I just love sheets,” he said. He looked at Mr. Turner.

“Listen, you think I’m drunk.”

“You are drunk.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re drunk and you’ve had D.T.’s.”

“No.” William Campbell held the sheet around his head. “Dear sheet,” he said. He breathed against it gently. “Pretty sheet. You love me, don’t you, sheet? It’s all in the price of the room. Just like in Japan. No,” he said. “Listen Billy, dear Sliding Billy, I have a surprise for you. I’m not drunk. I’m hopped to the eyes.”

“No,” said Mr. Turner.

“Take a look.” William Campbell pulled up the right sleeve of his pyjama jacket under the sheet, then shoved the right forearm out. “Look at that.” On the forearm, from just above the wrist to the elbow, were small blue circles around tiny dark blue punctures. The circles almost touched one another. “That’s trie new development,” William Campbell said. “I drink a little now once in a while, just to drive the wolf out of the room.”

“They got a cure for that,” “Sliding Billy” Turner said.

“No,” William Campbell said. “They haven’t got a cure for anything.”

“You can’t just quit like that, Billy,” Turner said. He sat on the bed.

“Be careful of my sheet,” William Campbell said.

“You can’t just quit at your age and take to pumping yourself full of that stuff just because you got in a jam.”

“There’s a law against it. If that’s what you mean.”

“No, I mean you got to fight it out.”

Billy Campbell caressed the sheet with his lips and his tongue. “Dear sheet,” he said. “I can kiss this sheet and see right through it at the same time.”

“Cut it out about the sheet. You can’t just take to that stuff, Billy.”

William Campbell shut his eyes. He was beginning to feel a slight nausea. He knew that this nausea would increase steadily, without there ever being the relief of sickness, until something were done against it. It was at this point that he suggested that Mr. Turner have a drink. Mr. Turner declined. William Campbell took a drink from the bottle. It was a temporary measure. Mr. Turner watched him. Mr. Turner had been in this room much longer than he should have been, he had many things to do; although living in daily association with people who used drugs, he had a horror of drugs, and he was very fond of William Campbell; he did not wish to leave him. He was very sorry for him and he felt a cure might help. He knew there were good cures in Kansas City. But he had to go. He stood up.

“Listen, Billy,” William Campbell said, “I want to tell you something. You’re called ‘Sliding Billy.’ That’s because you can slide. I’m called just Billy. That’s because I never could slide at all. I can’t slide, Billy. I can’t slide. It just catches. Every time I try it, it catches.” He shut his eyes. “I can’t slide, Billy. It’s awful when you can’t slide.”

“Yes,” said “Sliding Billy” Turner.

“Yes, what?” William Campbell looked at him.

“You were saying.”

“No,” said William Campbell. “I wasn’t saying. It must have been a mistake.”

“You were saying about sliding.”

“No. It couldn’t have been about sliding. But listen, Billy, and I’ll tell you a secret. Stick to sheets, Billy. Keep away from women and horses and, and—” he stopped “—eagles, Billy. If you love horses you’ll get horse-shit, and if you love eagles you’ll get eagle-shit.” He stopped and put his head under the sheet.

“I got to go,” said “Sliding Billy” Turner.

“If you love women you’ll get a dose,” William Campbell said. “If you love horses—”

“Yes, you said that.”

“Said what?”

“About horses and eagles.”

“Oh, yes. And if you love sheets.” He breathed on the sheet and stroked his nose against it. “I don’t know about sheets,” he said. “I just started to love this sheet.”

“I have to go,” Mr. Turner said. “I got a lot to do.”

“That’s all right,” William Campbell said. “Everybody’s got to go.”

“I better go.”

“All right, you go.”

“Are you all right, Billy?”

“I was never so happy in my life.”

“And you’re all right?”

“I’m fine. You go along. I’ll just lie here for a little while. Around noon I’ll get up.”

But when Mr. Turner came up to William Campbell’s room at noon William Campbell was sleeping and as Mr. Turner was a man who knew what things in life were very valuable he did not wake him.

Today Is Friday

Three Roman soldiers are in a drinking-place at eleven o’clock at night. There are barrels around the wall. Behind the wooden counter is a Hebrew wine-seller. The three Roman soldiers are a little cock-eyed.

1 st Roman Soldier —You tried the red?

2 d Soldier —No, I ain’t tried it.

1 st Soldier —You better try it.

2 d Soldier —All right, George, we’ll have a round of the red.

Hebrew Wine-seller —Here you are, gentlemen. You’ll like that. [ He sets down an earthenware pitcher that he has filled from one of the casks .] That’s a nice little wine.

1 st Soldier —Have a drink of it yourself. [ He turns to the third Roman soldier who is leaning on a barrel .] What’s the matter with you?

3 d Roman Soldier —I got a gut-ache.

2 d Soldier —You’ve been drinking water.

1 st Soldier —Try some of the red.

3 d Soldier —I can’t drink the damn stuff. It makes my gut sour.

1 st Soldier —You been out here too long.

3 d Soldier —Hell don’t I know it?

1 st Soldier —Say, George, can’t you give this gentleman something to fix up his stomach?

Hebrew Wine-seller —I got it right here.

[ The third Roman soldier tastes the cup that the wine-seller has mixed for him .]

3 d Soldier —Hey, what you put in that, camel chips?

Wine-seller —You drink that right down, Lootenant. That’ll fix you up right.

3 d Soldier —Well, I couldn’t feel any worse.

1 st Soldier —Take a chance on it. George fixed me up fine the other day.

Wine-seller —You were in bad shape, Lootenant. I know what fixes up a bad stomach.

[ The third Roman soldier drinks the cup down .]

3 d Roman Soldier —Jesus Christ. [ He makes a face .]

2 d Soldier —That false alarm!

1 st Soldier —Oh, I don’t know. He was pretty good in there today.

2 d Soldier —Why didn’t he come down off the cross?

1 st Soldier —He didn’t want to come down off the cross. That’s not his play.

2 d Soldier —Show me a guy that doesn’t want to come down off the cross.

1 st Soldier —Aw, hell, you don’t know anything about it. Ask George there. Did he want to come down off the cross, George?

Wine-seller —I’ll tell you, gentlemen, I wasn’t out there. It’s a thing I haven’t taken any interest in.

2 d Soldier —Listen, I seen a lot of them—here and plenty of other places. Any time you show me one that doesn’t want to get down off the cross when the time comes—when the time comes, I mean—I’ll climb right up with him.

1 st Soldier —I thought he was pretty good in there today.