| 2:42a |
@@@@@It had become all existence
That morning
@@@@@It had become all existence
That morning Goldstein had roused himself long enough to contrive an aidTheir stiffened fingers had been slowing them most of allThey were unable to hold onto the litter for more than a few seconds before its weight would slowly force their hands openGoldstein had cut the straps from their pack, tied them together and yoked the line over his shoulders onto the handles of the stretcherWhen he could grasp them no longer with his fingers he would transfer the weight to the strap, and plow forward until his hands were able to hold them againRidges followed his example soon afterward, and they plodded onward in their harness, the burden of the litter swaying slowly between them
"Water, goddammit, y' fuggin
"No water," Goldstein gasped Wilson began to cough againThe air that played over his face had the flushed heated quality of a kitchen when the oven has been on too long and the windows are closedHe hated the litter-bearers; he was like a child being tormented"Goldstein," he repeated, "always snufflin' around
A thin weak smile formed on Goldstein's mouthWilson had hurt him, and he envied Wilson suddenly because Wilson had never been forced to think about what he said or did"You can't have water," Goldstein mumbled, waiting in a rather delicious expectancy for Wilson's abuse to continueHe was like an animal so used to the whip that he found it a stimulus
Suddenly Wilson screamed"Men y'gotta gimme some water
By now Goldstein had forgotten the reason why Wilson mustn't drinkHe only knew that it was forbidden, and was irritated that he could not remember the explanationWilson's suffering had affected Goldstein oddly; slowly, keeping pace with his exhaustion, it had entered his own bodyWhen Wilson screamed, Goldstein felt a twinge; if the litter lurched abruptly, Goldstein's stomach plummeted as if he were dropping in an elevatorAnd every time Wilson pleaded for water Goldstein was thirsty againEach time he opened his canteen he felt a sense of guilt, and he would do without water for hours, rather than provoke Wilso |