The Caine Mutiny by Herman Wouk Read Free Book Online Page B

editions of standard authors and motley best sellers of twenty years. The windows looked out on the garden behind the house, where patches of old snow lay in shady corners of the brown empty flower beds. “How is it, really, Willie-the Navy?” Dr. Keith said, closing the door, and leaning on his cane.
    “Fine, Dad. I’ll get by. What’s the matter with your leg?”
    “Nothing much. Infected toe.”
    “I’m sorry. Bother you much?”
    “Some.”
    Willie glanced at his father in surprise. It was the first time he had heard his father complain of an ailment. “Well-what can I say to a doctor? You’ve had it looked at?”
    “Oh, yes. Nothing to be done. It will simply take time.” Father and son looked into each other’s eyes for a moment. “I shouldn’t keep you from the company,” said the doctor, limping toward the window. “But we’ve really never talked much, have we? I’m afraid I’ve let your mother do all the upbringing. And now you’re off to the wars.”
    Willie did not know what to answer. It seemed that his father wanted to say something but could not find a way to begin.
    “I never got overseas myself, Willie, in the first war. Maybe you’ll he lucky, too.”
    “I’ll take what comes,” said Willie. “The Navy’s spending a lot of time and work on me. Maybe I ought to go overseas if I’m good enough for it.”
    Dr. Keith ran his fingers across his small black mustache. His eyes searched Willie’s face. “You’re changing a little. What’s doing it? The Navy?”
    “I’m afraid I’m the same poor lug.”
    “Do you get a chance to play the piano?”
    “Forgetting what one looks like.”
    “Willie,” said his father, “have you met a girl?”
    Willie was too startled to lie. “Yes, sir.”
    “A good girl?”
    “In her way, wonderful.”
    “Do you want to marry her?”
    “No.”
    “Why not?”
    “Well-it’s not that kind of thing.”
    “Don’t be too sure. Bring her out here to meet us.”
    A picture flashed across Willie’s mind: the narrow dark fruit store in the Bronx which he had once visited, tended by May’s mother and father. The mother was fat, wore a shapeless rusty black dress, and had a hairy face. The father was a wizened man in a dirty apron, with gaps in his brown teeth. They had both seemed warmly good-natured in the few broken sentences they had spoken to him. Another grotesque image presented itself: Mrs. Minotti and his mother shaking hands. He shook his head.
    “Well, there was a nurse I once didn’t marry,” said his father thoughtfully. “But I have no regrets. Your mother and I have had a fine life- Well, they’ll be wondering what happened to us.” Still he made no move to go.
    “Dad, is there something else you want to talk about?”
    The father hesitated. “Nothing that can’t wait.”
    “Why don’t you visit me down at school? It’s kind of interesting.”
    “I’m not free much.”
    “Yes, I know.”
    “Maybe I will, though.” Dr. Keith put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “This isn’t necessarily a bad time for you, Willie. The Navy.”
    “Not if I emerge in one piece. It might do me good.”
    “It might- Let’s go.”
    Willie glanced at his watch as they re-entered the living room. Five to four. He made hasty excuses to the guests, overriding his mother’s loud protests. She followed him to the door. “When will I see you again, dear?” she said as he pulled the belt tight on his blue raincoat.
    “Next Saturday, Mom, if I stay out of trouble.”
    “Oh, no. I’ll come and see you before that.”

    It was twenty past six when he rushed into the Stork Club. Hurriedly pulling off his coat at the check room, he caught a glimpse of May. The phrases of apology faded from his mind. Marty Rubin, the agent, sat with her. “Now, what is that Jew doing here at this point?” he thought. His greeting to both of them was cool.
    “Congratulations on making midshipman. May’s been telling me about it,” said the agent. “I