sk.everythingseventual-第18章

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hook。　Blood；　some　of　it　black　and　clotted；　e　pouring　out　of　the　sunken　place　when　she　cut　it。　She　cut　deeper　and　then　out　came　the　pus。　Some　was　white；　but　there　was　big　green　chunks　which　looked　like　boogers。　That　was　bad。　But　when　she　got　to　the　lung　the　smell　was　a　thousand　times　worse。　It　couldn't　have　been　worse　in　France　during　the　gas　attacks。
　　Jack　was　gasping　in　these　big　whistling　breaths。　You　could　hear　it　in　his　throat；　and　from　the　hole　in　his　back；　too。
　　'You　better　hurry　up；'　Johnnie　says。　'He's　sprung　a　leak　in　his　air　hose。'
　　'You're　telling　me；'　she　says。　'The　bullet's　in　his　lung。　You　just　hold　him　down；　handsome。'
　　In　fact；　Jack　wasn't　thrashing　much。　He　was　too　weak。　The　sound　of　the　air　shrieking　in　and　out　of　him　kept　getting　thinner　and　thinner。　It　was　hotter　than　hell　with　those　lamps　set　up　all　around　the　bed；　and　the　stink　of　the　hot　oil　was　almost　as　strong　as　the　gangrene。　I　wish　we'd　thought　to　open　a　window　before　we　got　started；　but　it　was　too　late　by　then。
　　Rabbits　had　a　set　of　tongs；　but　she　couldn't　get　them　in　the　hole。　'Fuck　this！'　she　cried；　and　tossed　them　to　one　side；　and　then　stuck　her　fingers　into　the　bloody　hole；　reached　around　until　she　found　the　slug　that　was　in　there；　pulled　it　out；　and　threw　it　to　the　floor。　Johnnie　started　to　bend　over　for　it　and　she　said；　'You　can　get　your　souvenir　later；　handsome。　For　now　just　hold　him。'
　　She　went　to　work　packing　gauze　into　the　mess　she'd　made。
　　Johnnie　lifted　up　the　dishtowel　and　peeked　underneath　it。　'Not　a　minute　too　soon；'　he　told　her　with　a　grin。　'Old　Red　Hamilton　has　turned　a　wee　bit　blue。'
　　Outside；　a　car　pulled　into　the　driveway。　It　could　have　been　the　cops；　for　all　we　knew；　but　there　wasn't　nothing　we　could　do　about　it　then。
　　'Pinch　this　shut；'　she　told　me；　and　pointed　at　the　hole　with　the　gauze　in　it。　'I　ain't　much　of　a　seamstress；　but　I　guess　I　can　put　in　half　a　dozen。'
　　I　didn't　want　to　get　my　hands　anywhere　near　that　hole；　but　I　wasn't　going　to　tell　her　no。　I　pinched　it　shut；　and　more　watery　pus　ran　out　when　I　did。　My　midsection　clenched　up　and　I　started　making　this　gurk…gurk　noise。　I　couldn't　help　it。
　　'e　on；'　she　says；　kind　of　smiling。　'If　you're　man　enough　to　pull　the　trigger；　you're　man　enough　to　deal　with　a　hole。'　Then　she　sewed　him　up　with　these　big；　looping　overhand　strokes…really　punching　the　needle　in。　After　the　first　two；　I　couldn't　look。
　　'Thank　you；'　Johnnie　told　her　when　it　was　done。　'I　want　you　to　know　I'm　going　to　take　care　of　you　for　this。'
　　'Don't　go　getting　your　hopes　up；'　she　says。　'I　wouldn't　give　him　one　chance　in　twenty。'
　　'He'll　pull　through　now；'　Johnnie　says。
　　Then　Dock　and　Volney　rushed　back　in。　Behind　them　was　another　member　of　the　gang…Buster　Daggs　or　Draggs；　I　can't　remember　which。　Anyway；　he'd　been　down　to　the　phone　they　used　at　the　Cities　Service　station　in　town；　and　he　said　the　Gees　had　been　busy　back　in　Chicago；　arresting　anyone　and　everyone　they　thought　might　be　connected　to　the　Bremer　kidnapping；　which　had　been　the　Barker　Gang's　last　big　job。　One　of　the　fellas　they　took　was　John　J。　（Boss）　McLaughlin；　a　high　mucky…muck　in　the　Chicago　political　machine。　Another　was　Dr。　Joseph　Moran；　also　known　as　the　Crybaby。
　　'Moran'll　give　this　place　up；　just　as　sure　as　shit　sticks　to　a　blanket；'　Volney　says。
　　'Maybe　it's　not　even　true；'　Johnnie　says。　Jack　was　unconscious　now。　His　red　hair　lay　on　the　pillow　like　little　pieces　of　wire。　'Maybe　it's　just　a　rumor。'
　　'You　better　not　believe　that；'　Buster　says。　'I　got　it　from　Timmy　O'Shea。'
　　'Who's　Timmy　O'Shea？　The　Pope's　butt…wiper？'　Johnnie　says。
　　'He's　Moran's　nephew；'　Dock　says；　and　that　kind　of　sealed　the　deal。
　　'I　know　what　you're　thinking；　handsome；'　Rabbits　says　to　John…nie；　'and　you　can　stop　thinking　it　right　now。　You　put　this　fella　in　a　car　and　go　bumping　him　over　those　back　roads　between　here　and　St。　Paul；　he'll　be　dead　by　morning。'
　　'You　could　leave　him；'　Volney　says。　'The　cops　show　up；　they'll　have　to　take　care　of　him。'
　　Johnnie　sat　there；　sweat　running　down　his　face　in　streams。　He　looked　tired；　but　he　was　smiling。　Johnnie　was　always　able　to　find　a　smile。　'They'd　take　care　of　him；　all　right；'　he　says；　'but　they　wouldn't　take　him　to　any　hospital。　Stick　a　pillow　over　his　face　and　sit　down　on　it；　most　likely。'　Which　gave　me　a　start；　as　I'm　sure　you'll　understand。
　　'Well；　you　better　decide；'　Buster　says；　'because　they'll　have　this　joint　surrounded　by　dawn。　I'm　getting　the　hell　out。'
　　'You　all　go；'　Johnnie　says。　'You；　too；　Homer。　I'll　stay　here　with　Jack。'
　　'Well；　what　the　hell；'　Dock　says。　'I'll　stay；　too。'
　　'Why　not？'　Volney　Davis　says。
　　Buster　Daggs　or　Draggs　looked　at　them　like　they　was　crazy；　but　you　know　what？　I　wasn't　surprised　a　bit。　That's　just　the　effect　Johnnie　had　on　people。
　　'I'll　stay；　too；'　I　says。
　　'Well；　I'm　getting　out；'　Buster　says。
　　'Fine；'　Dock　says。　'Take　Rabbits　with　you。'
　　'The　hell　you　say；'　Rabbits　pipes　up。　'I　feel　like　cooking。'
　　'Have　you　gone　cuckoo？'　Dock　asks　her。　'It's　one　o'clock　in　the　morning；　and　you're　in　blood　right　up　to　the　elbows。'
　　'I　don't　care　what　time　it　is；　and　blood　washes　off；'　she　says。　'I'm　making　you　boys　the　biggest　breakfast　you　ever　ate…eggs；　bacon；　biscuits；　gravy；　hash　browns。'
　　'I　love　you；　marry　me；'　Johnnie　says；　and　we　all　laughed。
　　'Oh；　hell；'　Buster　says。　'If　there's　breakfast；　I'll　hang　around。'
　　Which　is　how　we　all　wound　up　staying　put　in　that　Aurora　farmhouse；　ready　to　die　for　a　man　who　was　already…whether　Johnnie　liked　it　or　not…on　his　way　out。　We　barricaded　the　front　door　with　a　sofa　and　some　chairs；　and　the　back　door　with　the　gas　stove；　which　didn't　work　anyway。　Only　the　woodstove　worked。　Me　and　Johnnie　got　our　tommy　guns　from　the　Ford；　and　Dock　got　some　more　from　the　attic。　Also　a　crate　of　grenades；　a　mortar；　and　a　crate　of　mortar　shells。　I　bet　the　Army　didn't　have　as　much　stuff　in　those　parts　as　we　did。　Ha…ha！
　　'Well；　I　don't　care　how　many　of　them　we　get；　as　long　as　that　son　of　a　bitch　Melvin　Purvis　is　one　of　them；'　Dock　says。　By　the　time　Rabbits　actually　got　the　grub　on　the　table；　it　was　almost　the　time　farmers　eat。　We　took　it　in　shifts；　two　men　always　watching　the　long　driveway。　Buster　raised　the　alarm　once　and　we　all　rushed　to　our　places；　but　it　was　only　a　milk　truck　on　the　main　road。　The　Gees　never　came。　You　could　call　that　bad　info；　I　called　it　more　of　John　Dillinger's　luck。
　　Jack；　meanwhile；　was　on　his　not…so…merry　way　from　bad　to　worse。　By　midafternoon　of　the　next　day；　even　Johnnie　must　have　seen　he　couldn't　go　on　much　longer；　although　he　wouldn't　e　right　out　and　say　so。　It　was　the　woman　I　felt　bad　for。　Rabbits　seen　new　pus　oozing　out　between　those　big　black　stitches　of　hers；　and　she　started　crying。　She　just　cried　and　cried。　It　was　like　she'd　known　Jack　Hamilton　her　whole　life。
　　'Never　mind；'　Johnnie　said。　'Chin　up；　beautiful。　You　did　the　best　you　could。　Besides；　he　might　still　e　around。'
　　'It's　cause　I　took　the　bullet　out　with　my　fingers；'　she　says。　'I　never　should　have　done　that。　I　knew　better。'
　　'No；'　I　says；　'it　wasn't　that。　It　was　the　gangrene。　The　gangrene　was　already　in　there。'
　　'Bullshit；'　Johnnie　said；　and　looked　at　me　hard。　'An　infection；　maybe；　but　no　gangrene。　There　isn't　any　gangrene　now。'
　　You　could　smell　it　in　the　pus。　There　wasn't　nothing　to　say。
　　Johnnie　was　still　looking　at　me。　'Remember　what　Harry　used　to　call　you　when　we　were　in　Pendleton？'
　　I　nodded。　Harry　Pierpont　and　Johnnie　were　always　the　best　of　friends；　but　Harry　never　liked　me。　If　not　for　Johnnie；　he　never　would've　taken　me　into　the　gang；　which　was　the　Pierpont　Gang　to　begin　with；　remember。　Harry　thought　I　was　a　fool。　That　was　another　thing　Johnnie　would　never　admit；　or　even　talk　about。　Johnnie　wanted　everyone　to　be　friends。
　　'I　want　you　to　go　out　and　wrangle　up　some　big　uns；'　Johnnie　says；　'just　like　you　used　to　when　you　was　on　the　Pendleton　mat。　Some　big　old　buzzers。'　When　he　asked　for　that；　I　knew　he　finally　understood　Jack　was　finished。
　　Fly…Boy　was　what　Harry　Pierpont　used　to　call　me　at　Pendleton　Reformatory；　when　we　were　all　just　kids　and　I　used　to　cry　myself　to　sleep　with　my　head　under　my　pillow　so　the　screws　wouldn't　hear。　Well；　Harry　went　on　and　rode　the　lightning　in　Ohio　State；　so　maybe　I　wasn't　the　only　fool。
　　Rabbits　was　in　the　kitchen；　cutting　up　vegetables　for　supper。　Something　was　simmering　on　the　stove。　I　asked　her　if　she　had　thread；　and　she　said　I　knew　goddam　well　she　did；　hadn't　I　been　right　beside　her　when　she　sewed　up　my　friend？　You　bet；　I　said；　but　that　was　black　and　I　wanted　white。　Half　a　dozen　pieces；　about　so　long。　And　I　held　out　my　index　fingers　maybe　eight　inches　apart。　She　wanted　to　know　what　I　was　going　to　do。　I　told　her　that　if　she　was　that　curious　she　could　watch　right　out　the　window　over　the　sink。
　　'Ain't　nothing　out　there　but　the　privy；'　she　says。　'I　got　no　interest　in　watching　you　do　your　personal　business；　Mr。　Van　Meter。'
　　She　had　a　bag　hanging　on　the　pantry　door；　and　she　rummaged　through　it　and　came　out　with　a　spool　of　white　thread　and　cut　me　off　six　pieces。　I　thanked　her　kindly　and　then　asked　if　she　had　a　Band…Aid。　She　took　some　out　of　the　drawer　right　beside　the　sink…because；　she　said；　she　was　always　cutting　her　fingers。　I　took　one；　then　went　to　the　door。
　　
　　I　got　in　Pendleton　for　robbing　wallets　off　the　New　York　Central　line　with　that　same　Charlie　Makley…small　world；　ain't　it？　Ha！　Anyhow；　when　it　e　to　ways　of　keeping　the　bad　boys　busy；　the　reformatory　at　Pendleton；　Indiana；　was　loaded。　They　had　a　laundry；　a　carpentry　shop；　and　a　clothes　factory　where　the　dubs　made　shirts　and　pants；　mostly　for　the　guards　in　the　Indiana　penal　system。　Some　called　it　the　shirt　shop；　some　called　it　the　shit　shop。　That's　what　I　drew…and　met　both　Johnnie　and　Harry　Pierpont。　Johnnie　and　Harry　never　had　any　problem　'making　the　day；'　but　I　was　always　ing　up　ten　shirts　short；　or　five　pairs　of　trousers　short；　and　being　made　to　stand　on　the　mat。　The　screws　thought　it　was　because　I　was　always　clowning　around。　Harry　thought　the　same　thing。　The　truth　was　that　I　was　slow；　and　clumsy…which　Johnnie　seemed　to　understand。　That　was　why　I　played　around。
　　If　you　didn't　make　your　day；　you　had　to　spend　the　next　day　in　the　guardhouse；　where　there　was　a　rush　mat；　about　two　feet　square。　You　had　to　take　off　everything　but　your　socks　and　then　stand　there　all　day。　If　you　stepped　off　the　mat　once；　you　got　your　ass　paddled。　If　you　stepped　off　twice；　a　screw　held　you　while　another　worked　you　over。　Step　off　a　third　time　and　it　was　a　week　in　solitary。　You　were　allowed　all　the　water　you　wanted　to　drink；　but　that　was　a　trick；　because　you　were　allowed　only　one　toilet　break　in　the　course　of　the　day。　If　you　were　caught　standing　there　with　piss　running　down　your　leg；　you　got　a　beating　and　a　trip　to　the　hole。
　　It　was　boring。　Boring　at　Pendleton；　boring　at　Michigan　City；　I…God's　prison　for　big　boys。　Some　fellows　told　themselves　stories。　Some　fellows　sang。　Some　made　lists　of　all　the　women　they　were　going　to　screw　when　they　got　out。
　　Me；　I　taught　myself　to　rope　flies。
　　
　　A　privy's　a　damned　fine　place　for　fly…roping。　I　took　up　my　station　outside　the　door；　then　proceeded　to　make　loops　in　the　pieces　of　thread　Rabbits　had　given