Jim - Six

Jim

 

            “Guys! Wake the hell up!”

            I was sleeping like a goddamn rock when Erich barged through the door and roared his orders, and nothing could have possibly scared me more. I jerked awake, tossed my pillow across the room and shrieked: “What? What? What?” in a pitch higher than I knew I could yell.

            We all tumbled out of bed and looked around wildly. It made me feel better to see that Hersch and Gabe had similar reactions, but in those two seconds I realized how much my head hurt.

            “What’s going on?” Gabe asked sharply.

            “It’s Knight!”

            “Damn! Is he after us?” Hersch yelled. Nothing was sinking in for me yet, so I just stood back and clutched my forehead while I tried to figure out what they were saying.

            “I don’t know,” Erich said, “but he’s coming around. We’ve got to hide the stuff!”

            At that point it hit me and my first reaction was to dive onto the floor where we had left the sacks. It wasn’t very effective; all I managed to do was smash my face on the floor and knock the wind out of myself. The other guys had more competent responses. They rushed around the room trying to get as much done as they could while I wheezed on the floor. Hersch and Erich took over, barking orders faster than we could move.

            “Get up!” Hersch hauled me to my feet. “Help me move this stuff, get it back in the sacks!”

            “Gabe, make up the beds!” Erich snarled, “Jesus Christ, it’s dark in here; where’s the goddamn lamp?”

            “Bloody hell! Jim, watch where you’re throwing that thing!” I had swung the sack of cigs around and smashed Gabe in the back of the head.

            “Where the hell are we going to hide this stuff?” I cried as the light came on. Our eyes fell on the boiler at the same time, “Erich, get that open!” He dragged the rusty boiler door open and we tossed the sacks inside just as a knock came from outside.

            “Inspection!” The voice came from outside and was followed by three more angry raps on the door. We all surveyed the room and each other in an attempt to make sure nothing was out of place. Then I lunged for the door.

            Knight was waiting on the other side and his presence hit us like an ice storm. He looked ready to kick some a*s, and it was our unfortunate asses that were standing in front of him.

            I ducked my head and avoided his eyes. “Professor Knight, sir, come in. We never heard anything about an inspection, but here you are. Oh, sorry about that door, sir, it’s broken, see.” I looked back at the guys, who I thought would certainly be in hysterics over my pathetic babbling, but they actually followed suit.

            “Sorry for the dark, Professor Knight. I’ll just get the lamp.”

            “What can we do for you, Professor Knight?”

            “Professor Knight, won’t you sit down?”

            He turned his icy look on Gabe, who had asked the last question and offered him a chair. “No, Mr. Moretti, I would rather not. Surely you boys knew about inspection?”

            We actually didn’t have to lie this time and answered in a chorus of: “No, sir.”

            I could tell he sensed our insincerity but he couldn’t prove it. “Yes, well,” he said, “you should keep yourselves better informed.” He turned back to us, “Good Lord, Amery, what happened to your sleeve? Where are your uniforms?”

            On cue, we all shot a look down at our outfits to find that we still had on our clothes from the night before. I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Hersch got there first.

            “Well, sir, they, um… they were in…”

            “… Need of a washing!” I finished, seeing that nothing else had come to him.

            “Rough business, this school,” Gabe added.

            “But we couldn’t seem to find the laundry…”

            Knight looked unconvinced but didn’t ask questions. “Why, that’s your basin there,” he said, motioning to the large wooden barrel in the corner, “It’s old fashioned, yes, but I assumed you would know how to use it,” he said condescendingly. None of us said anything to that and Knight continued to survey the room with an indifferent eye.

            “This boiler,” he began, tapping his fist against the metal. The second the words were out of his mouth, we shot each other desperate glances, “it’s only lit on particularly cold nights. I’m afraid it won’t be too comfortable for you boys.”

            It looked like he was going for the latch and I sprung into action. “Sir,” I said hurriedly, “you seem awfully on edge. Is something wrong?” The guys looked like they wanted to rip my throat out, but I had an idea. Something had hit me: Knight would never admit that someone had taken his stash. He would never be able own up to having the booze, not to mention that it had been taken by a group of students, while he was in the room. He couldn’t do anything about it, and if we acted like we knew something was up, he would back off.

            It worked. Knight’s head snapped up and he stepped away from the boiler. “Why, no, what would make you think that.”

            The other guys seemed to recognize that I had a plan and followed suit, “It’s nothing, sir,” Hersch said, “but it would seem that you had a rough night.”

            Knight scowled and shook his head. “Preposterous,” he growled. “I’m absolutely fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, I have many more inspections to do.”

            We grinned at each other slyly as he made his way towards the door. “Of course you do, sir,” Erich smirked, opening it for him.

            The second he was out of sight, we slammed the door and stood there looking at each other. It seemed like we couldn’t figure out what had just happened. In the period of about five minutes we had gone from dead-asleep to frantic to a*s-kissing. It was Erich who broke the silence.

            “What the hell was that?”

            A smile crept across Hersch’s face and I thought he almost looked impressed. “I have no idea.” He turned to me, “Jim, what the hell did you just do?”

            I felt smug. It occurred to me that it was probably the first time I had managed to make an impression on them. “I had a hunch.”

            Erich grinned, “Yeah, a damn brilliant hunch!” He clapped me on the shoulders, “Hey, what do you know! You’re not an idiot, Banhart!”

            I laughed. “F**k that,” I said, “I’m going back to bed.”

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

Almost got caught. I like the way they solved the problem of the cigarettes and whiskey. It was a entertaining chapter. To steal a man whiskey and cigarettes during wartime is a crime. Thank you for the excellent chapter.
Coyote