Catch-22(43)

Major Major had bought the dark glasses and false mustache in Rome in a final, futile attempt to save himself from the swampy degradation into which he was steadily sinking. First there had been the awful humiliation of the Great Loyalty Oath Crusade, when not one of the thirty or forty people circulating competitive loyalty oaths would even allow him to sign. Then, just when that was blowing over, there was the matter of Clevinger’s plane disappearing so mysteriously in thin air with every member of the crew, and blame for the strange mishap centering balefully on him because he had never signed any of the loyalty oaths.

The dark glasses had large magenta rims. The false black mustache was a flamboyant organ grinder’s, and he wore them both to the basketball game one day when he felt he could endure his loneliness no longer. He affected an air of jaunty familiarity as he sauntered to the court and prayed silently that he would not be recognized. The others pretended not to recognize him, and he began to have fun. Just as he finished congratulating himself on his innocent ruse he was bumped hard by one of his opponents and knocked to his knees. Soon he was bumped hard again, and it dawned on him that they did recognize him and that they were using his disguise as a license to elbow, trip and maul him. They did not want him at all. And just as he did realize this, the players on his team fused instinctively with the players on the other team into a single, howling, bloodthirsty mob that descended upon him from all sides with foul curses and swinging fists. They knocked him to the ground, kicked him while he was on the ground, attacked him again after he had struggled blindly to his feet. He covered his face with his hands and could not see. They swarmed all over each other in their frenzied compulsion to bludgeon him, kick him, gouge him, trample him. He was pummeled spinning to the edge of the ditch and sent slithering down on his head and shoulders. At the bottom he found his footing, clambered up the other wall and staggered away beneath the hail of hoots and stones with which they pelted him until he lurched into shelter around a corner of the orderly-room tent. His paramount concern throughout the entire assault was to keep his dark glasses and false mustache in place so that he might continue pretending he was somebody else and be spared the dreaded necessity of having to confront them with his authority.

Back in his office, he wept; and when he finished weeping he washed the blood from his mouth and nose, scrubbed the dirt from the abrasions on his cheek and forehead, and summoned Sergeant Towser.

“From now on,” he said, “I don’t want anyone to come in to see me while I’m here. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” said Sergeant Towser. “Does that include me?”

“Yes.”

“I see. Will that be all?”

“Yes.”

“What shall I say to the people who do come to see you while you’re here?”

“Tell them I’m in and ask them to wait.”

“Yes, sir. For how long?”

“Until I’ve left.”

“And then what shall I do with them?”

“I don’t care.”

“May I send them in to see you after you’ve left?”

“Yes.”

“But you won’t be here then, will you?”

“No.”

“Yes, sir. Will that be all?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir.”

“From now on,” Major Major said to the middle-aged enlisted man who took care of his trailer, “I don’t want you to come here while I’m here to ask me if there’s anything you can do for me. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” said the orderly. “When should I come here to find out if there’s anything you want me to do for you?”

“When I’m not here.”

“Yes, sir. And what should I do?”

“Whatever I tell you to.”

“But you won’t be here to tell me. Will you?”

“No.”

“Then what should I do?”

“Whatever has to be done.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That will be all,” said Major Major.

“Yes, sir,” said the orderly. “Will that be all?”

“No,” said Major Major. “Don’t come in to clean, either. Don’t come in for anything unless you’re sure I’m not here.”

“Yes, sir. But how can I always be sure?”

“If you’re not sure, just assume that I am here and go away until you are sure. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m sorry to have to talk to you in this way, but I have to. Goodbye.”

“Goodbye, sir.”

“And thank you. For everything.”

“Yes, sir.”