Glory Boys Read Online Free PDF Page B

Hennessey, the tall storekeeper, wandered in. The two men nodded a greeting.
    ‘Ed Houghton looking after you OK?’
    Abe thought of the mountainous puddings he’d been subjected to – each one of them ‘in his honour’.
    ‘Yeah. Sometimes even better than that,’ he commented.
    ‘Ted’s right hospitable when he wants to be, especially in the pudding-making department.’ Humour flickered round the storekeeper’s mouth, before his voice changed again. ‘You won’t take this bad, I hope, but there’s a little whiskey to be had, if you were a whiskey-drinking man.’
    ‘From time to time.’
    The storekeeper wandered over to the shelves where the glasses were kept. He helped himself to a couple and led the way upstairs, clearly knowing which room Abe had been given. At the door, he stood back politely and let Abe open up.
    The room was the best in the hotel, but simple enough for all that. There was a deep and comfortable bed, a dressing table and chair, a wardrobe, and a small green armchair which emitted puffs of dust if anyone sat on it. There were a couple of oil lamps, grown smoky from needing their wicks trimming. A thin curtain moved sluggishly in front of the open window.
    ‘This OK for you?’ said Hennessey, looking around. ‘I got a better room over at my place if you want it, only I figured you’d be happier without a troop of little Hennesseys yelling and screaming the whole time.’
    ‘You figured right.’
    ‘ I ’ d probably be happier, matter of fact.’
    Abe pulled off his boots and stretched out on the bed. Not satisfied with his first attempt at getting comfortable, he pounded and pummelled his pillows into shape, before lying back with a sigh. Hennessey put the two glasses on the table and produced a pint-bottle wrapped in brown paper from his coat pocket. He poured the whiskey and handed Abe a glass.
    ‘Local moonshine. Been going long before Volstead, keep going a long time after. It’s always had quite a following in Independence.’
    Abe sipped. The whiskey was good and he drank again. They’d been varnishing again today, and, though Abe liked the smell, it always made him dizzy. The whiskey helped.
    ‘Mind if I smoke?’ Hennessey produced a packet from his pocket and offered them to Abe. The pilot shook his head, but told Hennessey to go ahead. For a while, the two men were silent together, Hennessey smoking by the open window, Abe lying, eyes half-closed, on the bed. Eventually the storekeeper broke the silence.
    ‘Being a famous man and all, I guess you get a lot of attention? Even when you don’t announce your presence by putting your machine right down on Main Street.’
    Nothing in Abe’s manner changed, except that beneath his lids, his eyes grew more alert.
    ‘Truthfully, Hennessey? I haven’t been received like this for five years.’
    The storekeeper smiled. ‘No shortage of patriotism in Independence. That’s the trouble with this country, see. Short memories. People ought to remember more.’ He finished his cigarette and tossed the glowing butt in a wide arc out onto the dirt street outside. He watched it go.
    ‘That’s the trouble with America, huh?’ said Abe softly. ‘And what’s the matter with Independence?’
    The tall storekeeper turned from the window. ‘What makes you think there’s anything wrong?’
    Abe closed his eyes and rested the glass of whiskey on his chest. ‘Only everything I’ve seen since coming. That’s all.’
    Hennessey nodded. Some of his pleasure in their little drama left his face. It was replaced by something sadder and older.
    ‘What’s wrong with Independence?’ he repeated. ‘Everything’s wrong. Everything bar the whiskey.’

8
    ‘Two hundred thousand dollars? Two hundred exactly?’
    Junius Thornton, Willard’s father, named the figure. You need to be a rich man to name a sum like that and show no feeling aside from a businesslike care for arithmetical exactitude.
    ‘One ninety-four. I rounded up.’
    ‘One