Dennison

“ Dennison squinted at the stars, wondering how many more miles they had to travel before the war ended. Three stars burned in a ragged triangle: gradually, the upper star assumed a greenish pallor. While digging out Robinson's body a star had glittered above the cliff ...
Dennison felt the expanse of the desert around him, felt its thousands of square miles. Pulling the tarp over his head he imagined himself in a grotto, Atala's grotto: ah, that pitiful story: beauty obliterated by superstition, by folly: lovely Atala had been his companion in Ermenonville, as boy, she and her Chactas ... ”

“ Mrs. Dennison seemed tired; her eyes dropped towards the ground, and she reclined in her chair. Ruston was frowning and thrumming at intervals on the table. But presently his brow cleared and he smiled. Mrs. Dennison saw him from under her drooping lids.
"Well?" she asked in a petulant tone.
"I believe you were going to fight me for Omofaga."
"I don't know what I was doing."
"Is that fellow a fool?"
"He's a much better man than you'll ever be, Mr. Ruston. Really you might go now."
"All right, I will. I'm going down to the city to see your husband and Carlin." ”

“ Dennison swore, gutter filth, wild, French, English.
The doctor dictated more notes to Blanche--oblivious.
"Now for the injection," he said to her. "We'll take him as soon as the theater is free."
As Dennison began to go under the strong sedative, he heard Sister Blanche talking:
"You talk big ... very big ... of course you must talk like that ... it kills some of the pain ... it helps ... I know ... I had two nephews, good at swearing. Dr. Phelan's right ... you know ... you see, I've helped him through the years. Sleep now, my son. Be quiet in your mind, Orville. God will take care of you. ”

“ It was a party of which Ward strongly approved. While I was trying to make the kettle boil, I heard Dennison say that we were the pick of the freshers, a statement which no one was very likely to deny. I felt badly in need of some tonic after my afternoon, and I swallowed the one provided by Dennison without any hesitation, not stopping to wonder how often he had said the same thing to other men. As a matter-of-fact we were rather an odd lot to be the pick of anybody.
Dennison looked younger than any boy in the sixth form at Cliborough, and he could, on occasions, blush most bashfully. ”

“ Dennison stole off to a low pan in the library for his half-hour of sleep. I usually occupied my own room at this hour, but as I went that way, our guest came in from the veranda, where he had been smoking a cigar, and laughingly entreated that I should not leave him alone.
"I ran up-stairs, threw a black lace shawl over my head, Spanish mantilla fashion, and joined him. It was sunset, and all the beautiful landscape lay wrapped in a veil of purplish mist, through which trembled a soft golden glow that brightened all the west, and shimmered through the tree-tops like flashes of fire. ”

“ Dennison said.
Zinc flaunted a hunk of bread.
"As long as I can eat I can manage," he exclaimed.
The fire had attracted more of the Corps; some sat on the palm tree; two perched on a bed roll; others squatted on the sand; several sat on oil drums; some ate with their backs to the flames; others loafed about the kitchen. When Raub waved a mess kit and yelled, Dennison got up and crossed the sand to the wagon.
"More hash ... more coffee," he said, offering his pan. ”

“ Dennison felt himself roll with pain.
So the shelling had gotten his arm!
It was lying there beside him, and he was powerless to move it: smashed bones, shredded flesh, stinking flesh ... that's how it was! Still he wanted to see his arm and attempted to turn his head, his mind at loose ends: but he was being wheeled on the gurney; he sank into his pillow, moaning.
"I can't go through life without an arm," he said to the nurse as he rolled through a hallway. "I can't..."
Back in his room, he called Sister Blanche to his side. ”

“ Dennison comforted him, and, dismissing Ruston from the discussion, said with a smile,
"So you're thinking of settling down already, are you?" [pg 46]
"I say, Mrs. Dennison, you've always been awfully good to me; I wonder if you'd help me in this?"
"How could I help you?"
"Oh, lots of ways. Well, for instance, old Lady Valentine doesn't ask me there often. You see, I haven't got any money."
"Poor boy! Of course you haven't. Nice young men never have any money." ”

“ What a devil of a world it was!
Dennison was an able seaman. He had been brought up on the sea—seven years on the first Wanderer and five on the second. He had, in company with his father, ridden the seven seas. But he had no trade; he hadn’t the money instinct; he would have to stumble upon fortune; he knew no way of making it. And this knowledge stirred his rancor anew—the father hadn’t played fair with the son.
He gripped the deck-house rail to steady himself, for the wind and rain caught him head-on.
Then he worked his way slowly along to the bridge. ”

“ Around the corner of the Cosmopolitan came a little procession not irreverently conveying upon a shutter something over which a sheet had been loosely spread. The air was raw and cold. “Careful—that’s it—steady now,” cautioned Dennison in a low voice as they mounted the Cosmopolitan doorstep. “Mister,” Rioba Jack, Big Jinny, and Pearl Kate set down their burden at the upper end of the dance-room. “Come gals, fly round,” exhorted Dennison, “there’s all the bar to be set up across there—them windows has got to be darkened up—there ain’t no time to waste. ”

“ Someone hacked a willow and thin pine poles and Dennison and Zinc improvised a jacket litter.
On the way into Olpe they located the other flyer, his parachute shot down. Dennison was stung by his death: he felt the tragedy of his broken body: he looked into Zinc's face: but he was looking at something else: everyone here about the same age, Dennison thought: all trapped. Another kick from death! Death, lousy death, that insatiable hellion! He wanted to defy death. ”

“ I did not intend to tell Dennison that I was ill, so I said I would go if Ward would come with us, and as soon as we got into the Broad and the rain fairly beat upon us, I began to feel much better and more capable of being disagreeable to Dennison. I was in the state of mind which makes one anxious to be unpleasant, the sort of mood in which horrid people abuse servants or try to kick animals, and I was glad to have Dennison, who deserved every rudeness imaginable, at my disposal. But the worst of feeling so thoroughly disagreeable is that you are ashamed of yourself so quickly. ”

“ Seated men, men standing in groups, became death figures.
Dennison walked slowly, head bent; Zinc followed him; Millard followed.
Their tank was parked among other machines behind the shack where they had slept, almost at the base of the great dune. The bulk of each tank was something cut out of the night. As Dennison popped on his flash, rocks and gravel mixed with the deep sand ruts left by the treads.
A mechanic's spotlight had been trained on their M4 Sherman: she was a dusty blob twenty-four feet long, nine feet wide and eleven feet high. Paint had been chipped off innumerable places. ”

“ Dennison! Mr. Chowdler nearly had a fit. Dennison! One of those morbid, cantankerous, precocious boys, who have none [135] of the good-fellowship, none of the joy of life, that are the crown of youth. A boy with a jealous, sour, carping disposition, unpopular with his fellows and unresponsive to his housemaster; a boy without influence and eaten up by an unhealthy egotism.
“You misjudge him,” said Mr. Flaggon. “The boy is reserved, rather sensitive, and shy of expressing himself; but he has character and a conscience. With guidance and a little sympathy he will make a very useful Prefect.” ”

“ London, Dennison thought, as he shovelled away more sand: I'll never see London again. Perspiration made his hands slip on the shovel handle. He and Zinc were digging by lantern light, their shadows mugging each other: arms, heads, legs, shovels, machine. They were able to hear the hissing sound of sand. Nearby someone revved a motor.
In the light of a tank, Jeannette's photo showed a beautiful woman. Slipping it into his billfold he called her his pinup.
"Hell ... I'm hungry," he said to Zinc.
"There's chow," said Zinc. "I saw the truck ... yeah, there's chow," he repeated, rubbing his beard. ”

“ Ward, however, calmed my feelings by saying that he could not imagine any one troubling to be angry with Dennison. "The one thing he prides himself on is getting a rise out of people, and we aren't such fools as he thinks us."
"And he is a much bigger fool than he thinks," Collier said solemnly.
"You are a nice complimentary lot," Dennison remarked, smiling amiably upon us.
"It's your own fault," Collier continued; "you try to be clever and succeed in being confoundedly dull. ”

“ Dennison, the Rioba, “Mister” and the women stood for a moment motionless beside the body—their tasks completed.
“A becomin’ caskit, altogether,” exclaimed the proprietor of the Cosmopolitan, eyeing it critically.
“There’s somethin’ wanting all the same,” quoth “Mister,” after the continued pause had grown oppressive.
“Wantin’,” retorted Dennison; “I’d like to know what it is. Look at them there flags over the windows! Look at that there bar, where all that a man’s got to do is to walk up, after he’s paid his dollar, and help himself or let Pearl and Jinny here help him! ”

“ Dennison rushed them, and the mêlée began. 251 It was a strenuous affair while it lasted. When a strong man is full of anger and bitter disappointment, when six young fellows are bored to distraction, nothing is quite so satisfying as an exchange of fisticuffs. Dennison had the advantage of being able to hit right and left, at random, while his opponents were not always sure that a blow landed where it was directed.
Naturally the racket drew Cleigh to the scene, and he arrived in time to see a champagne bottle descend upon the head of his son. Dennison went down. ”

“ He knows Mr. Carlin in business. Mr. Carlin's a friend of Mr. Ruston's."
"Oh, of Ruston's? I like that Ruston. He is interesting—inspiring."
"Is he?" said Mrs. Dennison, buttoning her glove. "You'd better marry him, Berthe."
"Marry him? No, indeed. I think he would beat one."
"Is that being inspiring? I'm glad Harry's not inspiring."
"Oh, you know what I mean. He's a man who——"
Mrs. Cormack threw up her arms as though praying for the inspired word. Mrs. Dennison did not wait for it.
"There's the carriage. Good-bye, dear," she said.
Mrs. Dennison started with a smile on her face. ”

“ Crewmen pushed Dennison aside and crowded close to 67. Leaning against his tank, Dennison watched them, unseeing, unmoving: glad to be away from 67. He wanted water but could not ask for it. In spite of himself he vomited green slime.
Too late ... there's nothing anybody can do ... I was too late.
Nobody can crawl inside: the guys are dead: they've been dead for ... it's done: it's over: maybe that's something:
"It's over," he yelled.
Ben and his injured shoulder: Ben said he was going to get well: Ben was majoring in math ...
Carson was a nice guy ... ”

“ Alas! what soft-hearted story-teller can dwell upon the unholy hammering and cleaving, the ruthless hacking and smashing which ended in making visible for weeks thereafter in the back yard of the Cosmopolitan a hideous wreck of tangled steel wire, white and black keys and splinters of sounding-board—in a word, the entrails of the murdered piano?
By ten o’clock the work was fairly done. The crowd had departed, and only Dennison, Rioba Jack and “Mister” now remained in the long dance-room. Dennison was smoking, as he leaned against one end of his late piece of property. ”

“ Dennison. "He's always going into the dairy—he's been walks with her—he's always getting me to ask her in here to play the piano——"
"And uncommon well she plays it, too!" grunted Matthew.
"—and now he's taken her off to church!" concluded Mrs. Dennison. "He's smitten, Matthew, he's smitten!"
Matthew stirred uneasily in his chair.
"Well, well, my lass!" he said. "Ye know what young folks are—they like each other's company. What d'ye think I sought your company for? Not to sit and stare at you, as if you were a strange image, I know!" ”

“ Dennison came by at a trot.
“Longer stride, Dennison! Your running’s choppy! Lengthen out, lengthen out! That’s better.—I have it!”
Barclay turned suddenly to Irving.
“What?”
“The thing for you to do. We’ll make you an official at the track games next week. That will give you a standing at once—show everybody that you are really a keen follower of sport—or want to be.”
“But what can I do? I suppose an official has to do something.”
“You can be starter. That will put you right in touch with the fellows that are entered.”
“Would I have a revolver? I’ve never fired a gun off in my life.” ”

“ Dennison 226 is shy a match right this minute for The Red; they’re all a little doubtful about him. The Pilgrim will be the only logical man in the world to send against him––that is, according to your sporting columns. And Dennison, of course, being on the inside, knows he is really nothing but a dub––knows it is simply a plain open and shut proposition. That is to say––he thinks he knows!”
Jesse Hogarty paused and the corners of his lips twitched back to show his teeth, but not in laughter. ”

“ Landel was bending over him, checking for his ID, his dog tag. Landel's greasy bald head filled Dennison with great bitterness: it said:
Here we are, who cares! In Africa, who cares!
Who will bury us?
The waterboy was moving.
"Hold still," Zinc commanded.
"Now there are only four of us to crew our tank," Dennison yelled.
"So what!" Zinc yelled.
"Four of us," Dennison repeated.
"We can manage, Chuck is good."
Dennison wondered what Millard's wife was like: had she loved the guy or was the beneficiary sum worth far more? His hands trembled: death was such a crappy business. ”