Sample K07 from Francis Pollini, Night. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1961. Pp. 246-252. A part of the XML version of the Brown Corpus2,005 words 119 (5.9%) quotes 1 symbolK07

Used by permission of Francis Pollini. 0010-1700

Francis Pollini, Night. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1961. Pp. 246-252.

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If the crummy bastard could write ! ! That's how it should be . It's those two fucken niggers ! ! Krist , I wish they could write ! ! Nigger pussy . He thought of sweet wet nigger pussy . Oh , sweet land of heaven , haint there just nothin like sweet nigger pussy ! ! He thought of her , the first one . He had caught her coming out of the shack . She was a juicy one . Oh how they bounced ! ! Fresh , warm , sweet and juicy , sweet lovin sixteen , she was . Man , how I love nigger pussy ! ! The snow came a little faster now , he noted . He thought of Joe Harris , the nigger who had gone after his sister . He chuckled , the memory vivid . Jee-sus , We Fixed him ! ! Yooee , we fixed him ! ! The snow again . If only the fucken weather wasn't so lousy ! ! Goddamn niggers , Lord . What I have to put up with ! ! Sonuvabitch , I can't figure out what in hell for they went and put niggers in my squad for . Only one worth a shit , and that's Brandon . He ain't so bad .

His thoughts turned to other things . The big shock everybody had when they found ol Slater and those others done for . Kaboom for .

He had been pretty scared himself , wondering what the hell was coming off . But he soon saw which way the ball was bouncing . Soon came back to his senses . `` I soon came back to my senses '' , he said , aloud , to the young blizzard , proudly , drawing himself up , as if making a report to some important superior . I was the first to get my squad on the ball , and anybody thinkin it was easy is pretty damn dumb . Look at thum . That goddamn redheader was the worst . He kept sayin , not me , not me , I don't wanta wind up like em . But I told him , goddammit . `` I told him '' , he said aloud They'll get the guys that done it . That'll put the place back to normal . Normal , by God . Maybe it's a good thing it happened . Maybe they'll stop it now , once for all . Clean the place up . They're doin it now . I hear the whole bunch is croakin out in the snow . They'll get the guys that done it . There was something troubling him though : as yet they hadn't Five days . Keerist . Prickly twinges of annoyance ran through him . His eyes blinked hard , snapping on and squashing some bad things that were trying to push their way into him . A tune began to whirl inside his head . One of his favorites : `` Guitar Boogie '' . It always came on , faithfully , just like a radio or juke box , whenever he started to worry too much about something , when the bad things tried to push their way into him . The music drove them off , or away , and he was free to walk on air in a very few moments , humming and jiving within , beating the rhythm within . He glowed with anticipation about what would happen to the culprits when they caught them . Turn the bastards over to me -- to me and my boys -- no nigger ever got what would be comin to them -- reactionary bastards . He had never heard the word reactionary before his life as a POW began . It was a word he was proud of , a word that meant much to him , and he used it with great pleasure , almost as if it were an exclusive possession , and more : he sensed himself to be very highly educated , four cuts above any of the folks back home . `` Four cuts at least '' , he chuckled to himself , `` and I owe it all to them '' . The word also made him feel hate , sincere hate , for those so labeled . He used it very effectively when he wanted to get his squad on the ball . It came up again and again in the discussion sessions . Lousy Reactionary bastards been tryin to fuck up the Program for months . Months . Hired , hard lackeys of the Warmongering capitalists . Not captured , sent here . To fuck up the program . You guys remember that . Remember that He heard himself haranguing them . He saw himself before them delivering the speech . He laughed , suddenly , feeling a surge of power telling him of his hold over them , seeing himself before them , receiving utmost respect and attention . One day , Ching had told him ( smiling , patting him on the back ) as they walked to the weekly conference of squad leaders , `` Keep it up , your squad is good , one of the best , keep it up , keep up the good work '' . He would ! ! That was really something , coming from Ching . `` Really something '' , he said , aloud . Dirty Reactionary bastards comin down here in the night and bumpin off ol Slater and those other poor bastards . `` They'll get them by God and let them bring them down here to me , just let them , God , I'll slice their balls right off . '' His arm moved swiftly , violently , once , twice . He felt intense satisfaction . He was tingling within . Before him , mutilated , bleeding to death , they lay . It was as if it had been done . `` Bastards '' , he said aloud , spitting on them . He halted , and looked around . Rivers of cold sweat were suddenly unleashed within him . The thought came back , the one nagging at him these past four days . He tried to stifle it . But the words were forming . He knew he couldn't . He braced himself . Somebody'll hafta start thinkin . He fought it , seeking to kill the last few words , but on they came out . He was trembling , a strange feeling upon him , fully expecting some catastrophe to strike him dead on the spot . But it didn't . And he took heart ; ; the final word came forth . Now he heard it , fully ; ; `` bout takin his place '' He listened , waited , nothing happened . He felt good . His old self . The music arrived , taking him its rhythm . Stroked him , snaked all through him , the lyrics lifted him , took him from one magic isle to another , stopping briefly at each Brandon . He is good . Damn good . But a nigger . Johnson . Jesus , the guy says he is trying . But he isn't with it , not at all with it . When I talked to Ching about it , he said , Everyone can learn , if he is not a Reactionary or lazy . No one is stupid . That's what he said . He oughta know . It is plain as hell Johnson is no reactionary . So you're not tryin , Johnson , you bastard you . He looked over at him , lying there , asleep , and he felt a wave of revulsion . How he loathed him . Sleepy-eyed , soft-spoken Johnson , Biggest thorn in my side of the whole fucken squad . He was the guy what always goofed at Question Time . Why couldn't they have dumped him off on someone else ? ? Why me ? ? Why didn't the damn Reactionaries bump him off ? ? Why Slater ? ? Like a particle drawn to a magnet he returned to that which was pressing so hard in his mind . The music surged up , but it failed to check it . Who is the man to take His place ? ? The guy with most on the Ball . Most on the ball . Handle men . Thoroughly Wised up . Knows the score With a supreme effort , he broke it off . He turned to the window again . A gnawing and gnashing within him . The snow was tumbling down furiously now . Huge glob-flakes hitting the ground , piling higher and higher . He stared at it , amazed , alarmed . The whole fucken sky's cavin in ! ! Keeeerist ! ! Lookit it ! ! Cover the whole building , bury us all , by nightfall . Jesus ! ! Somebody , got to be somebody If I don't put my two cents in soon , somebody else will I know they're waitin only for one thing : for the bastards what done it to be nailed . Maybe they already got them . He was again tingling with pleasure , seeing himself clearly in Slater's shoes . Top dog , sleeping and eating right there with the Staff . Ching , Tien , all of them . Top dog . Poor ol Slater . Jesus , imagine , the crummy bastards , they'll get em , they'll get what's comin to em . He whirled about suddenly . It was nothing , though his heart was thumping wildly . Somebody was up . That was all .

`` Boy , you're stirrin early '' , a sleepy voice said .

`` Yehhh '' , said Coughlin , testily , eyeing him up and down .

`` Lookit that come down , willya '' , said the man , scratching himself , yawning .

`` Yehhh '' , said Coughlin , practically spitting on him .

The man moved away .

That's the way . They'll toe the line . Goddamn it . Keep the chatter to a minimum , short answers , one word , if possible . Less bull the more you can do with em . That's Brown's trouble . All he does is to bullshit with his squad , and they are the stupidest bastards around . Just about to get their asses kicked into hut Seven . Plenty of room there now . All those dumb 8-Balls croaked . You can do anything with these dumb fucks if you know how . Anything . They'd cut their mothers' belly open . Give um the works . See , he's already snapping it up , the dumb jerk . Coughlin grinned , feeling supremely on top of things . He watched the snow once again . It infuriated him . It made no sense to him . He whirled around , suddenly hot all over , finding the man who had been standing before him a few moments back , nailing him to the spot on which he now stood , open-mouthed .

`` You , Listen ! ! -- name William Foster's Four Internal Contradictions in Capitalism . Quick -- Quick -- now '' ! !

The man shrank before the hot fury , searching frantically for the answer .

Finnegan woke up . There was a hell of a noise this time of morning . He stared out the window . For Christ's sake ! ! The whole fucken sky's caved in ! ! He looked for the source of the noise that had awakened him . It was that prick Coughlin . What the hell was he up to now ? ? Why didn't he drop dead ? ? How did they miss him when they got Slater ? ? How ? ? Then he was asking himself the usual early morning questions : What the Hell am I doin here ? ? Is this a nut-house ? ? Am I nuts ? ? Is this for real ? ? Am I dreamin ? ?

From somewhere in the hut came Coughlin's voice .

`` How long did you study ? ? How long , buddy '' ? ?

`` For Christ's sake '' ! ! A voice pleaded .

`` Don't Christsake me , buddy ! ! Just answer . C'mon -- 'mon ! !

I'm no hero . Did I start the damn war ? ? Automatically , Finnegan started going over today's lesson . Capitalism rots from the core . Did I start the damn war ? ? Who did ? ? That's a good one . I thought I knew . Why don't Uncle Sam mind his own fucken business ? ? I'll bet both together did . I bet . So fuck them both . Goddamn . Goddammit . Just let me go home to Jersey , back to the shore , oh , Jesus , the shore . The waves breakin in on you and your girl at night there on the warm beach in the moonlight . If I hafta do this to stay alive by God I'll do it . I hated the goddamn army from the first day I got in anyhow . All pricks like Coughlin run it anyway , one way or another . Fuck them . He rolled over and tried to shut out the noise , now much louder . He snuggled into the blanket .

Brandon dreamed . He was sitting on top of a log which was spinning round and around in the water . A river , wide as the Missouri , where it ran by his place . The log was spinning . But he was not . So what ? ? Why should I be spinning just because the goddamn log is spinning ? ? ( he asked this out loud , but no one heard it over the other noise in the hut ) . Over on the bank , the west bank , a man stood , calling to him . He couldn't make out what he was saying . No doubt it had to do with the log . Why should he be concerned ? ?