Whistle by Jones James

Author:Jones, James [Jones, James]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Novel
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2011-05-09T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 19

LANDERS WOKE WITH much less of a hangover than Prell. More used to the heavy drinking luxury than Prell was by now, his body was getting better at assimilating it.

But as he pulled the GI blanket and sheet up to his neck and lay listening to the ward man going down the line waking the guys, he was transfixed by something far worse than a hangover. The big bell at the head of the ward was ringing its short, hard, frightening blasts, but it wasn’t that. He was used to that. His whole system was infused with a sharp pure panic.

Landers knew why. There was no need to think back over the whole big party to remember what it was he had done so wrong. It was right there in the forefront of his mind. He remembered that he drunkenly had told Prell all about Winch going back to duty, on the way pushing him back to the wards. And he had been asked precisely not to do just that.

Jerkily, with nerves made jumpy by both hangover and a deep, hollow, awful guilt, Landers yanked on his pajama pants and slippers to hurry up and get to the bathroom first and shave.

It was Strange who had told Landers about Winch’s impending return to duty. Landers had been sitting with him outdoors loafing in the fall sunshine, while the two of them waited for Prell to get his folding wheelchair. Winch had told Strange he would be leaving within a week. Then, after telling Landers, Strange had expressly asked Landers not to talk about it. Particularly, he did not want Landers to tell Prell.

Landers had asked him why. Strange had shrugged and moved his head, and in that inarticulate way Landers had come to associate with all of Strange’s more complex, profounder ideas, he said he did not think Prell was up to it yet. Prell was still drawn too tight, still too much up in the air. About what might happen with his legs. He wouldn’t be able to digest the idea that Winch finally might be leaving them, leaving the company, moving on.

Landers had simply nodded. He was not so sure he was up to it himself. The idea that Winch might not be there for aid and advice when Landers needed him left a big empty hole in Landers. But he had never believed Prell felt that same way about Winch. Astonishingly, it was as if Strange read his mind. Again, inarticulately, Strange had moved his head and shrugged. That Prell hated Winch did not mean Prell thought Winch was an incompetent, Strange said with no prompting. Just the reverse. Prell would never have hated a man whose professional opinions he had contempt for. No; Prell would miss Winch. Badly. Hate, or no hate.

They should give Prell a week, Strange said, or two weeks. Before they told him. He needed sufficient time for the therapy on his legs to start to work. Besides, in the second place,

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