duraytion. . . . But if you give us trouble I canât say how serious it mightnât be. Weâre under the Defence of the Realm Act, Donât forget that. . . . Whatâs your name?â
After Joe had told his name, birthplace, fatherâs and motherâs names, names of ships heâs sailed on, the inspector suddenly shot a question in German at him. Joe shook his head, âHay, what do you think I know German for?â
âShut the bugger up. . . . We know all about him anyway.â
âShall we give him âis kit, sir?â asked one of the men timidly.
âHe wonât need a kit if he isnât jolly careful.â
The corporal got a bunch of keys and opened a heavy wooden door on the side of the room. They pushed Joe into a little cell with a bench and no window. The door slammed behind him and Joe was there shivering in the dark. Well, youâre in the pigâs a.h. for fair, Joe Williams, he said aloud. He found he could warm himself by doing exercises and rubbing his arms and legs, but his feet stayed numb.
After a while he heard the key in the lock; the man in khaki threw a blanket into the cell and slammed the door to, without giving him a chance to say anything.
Joe curled up in the blanket on the bench and tried to go to sleep.
He woke in a sudden nightmare fright. It was cold. The watch had been called. He jumped off the bench. It was blind dark. For a second he thought heâd gone blind in the night. Where he was, and everything since they sighted the Scilly Island lights came back. He had a lump of ice in his stomach. He walked up and down from wall to wall of the cell for a while and then rolled up in the blanket again. It was a good clean blanket and smelt of lysol or something like that. He went to sleep.
He woke up again hungry as hell, wanting to make water. He shuffled around the square cell for a long time until he found an enamelled pail under the bench. He used it and felt better. He was glad it had a cover on it. He began wondering how heâd pass the time. He began thinking about Georgetown and good times heâd had with Alec and Janey and the gang that hung around Mulvaneyâs pool parlor and making pickups on moonlight trips on the
Charles Macalister
and went over all the good pitchers heâd ever seen or read about and tried to remember the batting averages of every man on the Washington ballteams.
Heâd gotten back to trying to remember his highschool games, inning by inning, when the key was put into the lock. The corporal whoâd searched him opened the door and handed him his shirt and pants. âYou can wash up if you want to,â he said. âBetter clean up smart. Orders is to take you to Captain Cooper-Trahsk.â âGosh, canât you get me somethinâ to eat or some water. Iâm about starved. . . . Say, how long have I been in here, anyway?â Joe was blinking in the bright white light that came in from the other room. He pulled on his shirt and pants.
âCome along,â said the corporal. âCanât ahnswer no question till
youâve seen Captain Cooper-Trahsk.â âBut what about my slippers?â âYou keep a civil tongue in your mouth and ahnswer all questions youâre harsked and itâll be all the better for you. . . . Come along.â
When he followed the corporal down the same corridor heâd come in by all the English tommies stared at his bare feet. In the lavatory there was a shiny brass tap of cold water and a hunk of soap. First Joe took a long drink. He felt giddy and his knees were shaking. The cold water and washing his hands and face and feet made him feel better. The only thing he had to dry himself on was a roller towel already grimy. âSay, I need a shave,â he said. âYouâll âave to come along now,â said the corporal sternly. âBut I got a Gillette