218
PARTISAN REVIEW
the night was nearly over. The gravel took all the light there was in the
perishing darkness and shed it upward, and in the darkness among
the trees below the outbuildings a blossoming dogwood flawed like
winter breath. In the untouchable silence such a wave of energy swept
upward through their bare feet and their three bodies into the sky
that they were shaken as
if
a ghost had touched them. Sharply and al–
most silently, Hobe laughed.
They looked at the last tired stars and at the dark windows of their
dormitory and they wondered what their punishment would be.
"S--t fahr," Hobe said. "Can't even pray, what the f--k
kin
ye do!"
Maybe, Richard reflected, they wouldn't say anything. Couldn't be
a better excuse than praying. In brainless exaltation he flexed the soles
of his feet against the ground. What of it
if
they do, he thought.
Rustily, so far down back of them across the fields they could
scarcely hear him, a rooster crowed.
"Let's get the rackets," Richard said.
They took it as naturally as if one of them had said it.
"They'd catch us sure," Jimmy said.
"Hell we keer," Hobe said. "Tan our asses anyhow, now."
Creakily, a little nearer, but very faint, a second rooster answered.
Might not, Richard thought; not
anyhow.
What if they do.
"Let's go to the Sand Cut," Hobe said.
"Freeze yer balls off," Jimmy said.
"Sun-up, time we git thur," Hobe said.
Proud, fierce behind the cook's house, the cry of a third rooster shin–
ing sprang, speared, vibrated as gaily and teasingly in the centers of their
flesh as a jews-harp.
"Come on," Richard said, and started walking rapidly across the
pale gravel.
He was surprised that he had spoken and the more surprised to
hear them following. How they do it, he thought, stepping along not
quite steadily in silent uneasy elation; all there is to it. He led them down
past the cook's house.
Pride, he realized; a mortal sin. How do I confess that?
Through the veering wire net he saw, black in the faintness, how the
big rooster darted his vigilant head and shuffled his plumage: in the
silence before daylight a priest, vesting himself for Mass. Something
heavy struck and the whole body splayed, and chuckled with terror;
the coward's wives gabbled along their roost.
Richard felt as
if
he had been hit in the stomach.
