Carl nervously wondered what he should answer and bickered with his desire to return a curt indifference to this vaguely garnished mannikin. He decided to annoy the limited mind of the man in front of him and take a comforting wraith of revenge from this result—his customary device for such situations, always used to evade a language which he did not care to simulate. The physical nearness of people made him snarl, for then his imagination found it more difficult to trifle with their outlines, and he would strive to drive them away with insult.
“The army is a colorless workshop, where men can forget their past and avoid gambling with their future,” he said, in an aloofly professorial voice. “All of the hurried and obedient movements of a day in the army, like a little drove of dazed foxes, prevent a man from fully realizing his own insignificance, and at night there is always a nearby city in which the sorrowful illusion can be captured again. Oh, yes, the army is an excellent prison for men to whom life holds a fixed horizon—men whose hearts and minds have reduced curiosity to an ashen foothold.”
Levy’s brows bent to an unfamiliar process and perplexity slowly loosened his lips, but a feeling of irritated pride made him determined not to show his confusion to one whom he looked upon as a demented and windy subordinate. He knew that this “fancy fool” was attempting to parade a superior knowledge of English, thus creating a counterfeit of wisdom.
“Oh, I don’t think that the army is as bad as all that,” he said, in a glibly hurried voice, trying to assume an attitude of careless disagreement. “I was a sergeant-major once in the National Guard, down in Tennessee, and we had a pretty good time of it, I’ll tell you. It gave us all a splendid muscle and fine appetite, and it taught us to obey the commands of our superior officers without hesitating. You know, in life you’ve got to follow the orders of someone who knows more than you do, or you’ll never get anywhere. Besides, we had a lot of intelligent men in our outfit. Why, my company commander was one of the best lawyers in Nashville.”
“My planet is somewhat distant from yours. I was barely able to hear you,” said Carl, amusedly. “Still, that doesn’t mean that either of us is better or worse than the other. Your eyes are contented with what they see and mine are not. But it would not be very important to tell you of things that you have never missed.”
Levy became involved in his cigarette smoking while he futilely asked his mind for an adequate and unconcerned retort. Mrs. Felman sensed his annoyance and felt hugely angry at her son for “not getting in right” with this splendid young business-man and for speaking in a manner that was mysteriously and trivially vexing.
“Ach, Carl always talks just like a hero in a story,” she said, in an agitated effort at humorous masquerade and hoping to smooth over the errors made by her freakish son. “Don’t pay no attention to him. I can never understand him myself.”
Levy, once more completely the successful man to his own vision, forgot the bite of the beetle, and turned to the elder Felman.
“How about a little game of rummy?”
“Carrie, get the cards,” Felman answered, in quick tones of bright relief. “Carl will play—he always was a rummy shark and he never changes in anything. Such a stubborn boy! I bet you that forty years from now he’ll be just as foolish as he ever was.”