Mitla Pass by Leon Uris Read Free Book Online Page B

dating. Their old mom can teach them the yins and yangs of it. A good part of my slow-dancing career had been in the arms of some ambitious young officer trying to zap the Admiral’s daughter. A lot of random clutching, sweating and, oh shit, here comes his erection.
    But on the other hand, comrades, slow dancing can run a very close second to you know what. PFC Zadok really knew his way around the back alleys and gutter fighting and on a dance floor. He held you firmly but fairly, his antennae alert to pick up the faintest signal. After I decided I liked the way we fit, and stopped fighting it, I’d just wrap myself around him, feel his cheek, breathe hard, and sway like there was only one of us moving for two.
    He knew a restaurant, within his means, over the bay in San Francisco. El Globo on Broadway, in the Italian North Beach section. It was actually a Portuguese bar with rooms over the top for visiting seamen. Behind the bar were a half-dozen booths in a room that served a family-style dinner for ninety-nine cents with wine.
    We were getting quieter and quieter every time, just holding hands and looking at each other through the candle’s flame.
    “How’s all this going to go down with the Admiral? Me being an enlisted man. And a Marine?”
    “The Admiral and I are not that close. I don’t know. He had a ship shot out from under him at Midway. He’s seen too many of his own boys die and too many Marines scraped up from the beach. He’s lost a lot of his bigotry.”
    “You want to keep on seeing me?”
    I was about to say, “I’m not ready.” That’s what I’d always said before: “I could really go for you, buddy, but I’m not ready. Paris and all that.” I didn’t answer him.
    “You want to hear a real deal breaker?” Gideon asked.
    “Shoot.”
    “I’m a Jew.”
    I don’t know what he had to go through to say that, but a strange moment arrived between us. Suddenly it wasn’t fun and games any longer. I made a smart-assed remark like, “I thought you were some kind of weirdo.”
    Gideon looked into the bar where a serious arm-wrestling contest was going on. “There’s our dinner and gas money. Lend me a couple of bucks, we’ll split the winnings.”
    Oh, that little bastard was deceptive. He pinned three Portuguese sailors, all twice his size, and scooped up fifteen dollars from the bar.
    I had access to a girlfriend’s car, which was in drydock most of the time because of the gas rationing until Gideon came along. He hustled enough ration stamps to keep the tank full. We got outside and I knew I’d have to give him some kind of answer.
    “Let’s drive to someplace quiet,” he said. “There’s something I want to show you.”
    With all his bravado, Gideon had scarcely touched me. I felt very comfortable about being alone with him. I drove up to Twin Peaks. It was a rare night without fog and we could see the entire Bay area and bridges.
    “Taken many poor sailors up here?”
    “Oh, quite a few, but you’re my very first Marine Jew.”
    He didn’t kiss me. I learned later that was all a part of the bastard’s strategy. He opened a large manila envelope and took out a small stack of pages.
    “What’s that?”
    “The first chapter of my novel. I’d like to read it to you.”
    I found myself shaking. Everything was twinkling out there and an eager young man was sitting opposite me ready to throw down the gauntlet and challenge the world.
    “What do you call it?”
    “Of Men in Battle.”
    When he finished reading, I just came apart and wept uncontrollably. It was so beautiful. I looked at Gideon Zadok, hard. Lord, what was this all about!
    “Oh buddy,” I cried, “you’ve got me going.”
    Gideon reached out and touched my cheek and told me not to cry. I never felt anything like his hand before. No one has ever touched me that way since, but him.
In that small cafe,
The park across the way,
The children’s carrousel.
The chestnut trees,
The wishing well,
I’ll be seeing