5

That night (if you can call that eternal dusk night) at camp around the fire, Billy asked if anyone had a compass he could borrow, after everyone had denied knowing what direction they were marching in. No one knew where he could get a compass. Greg-who-cheated-at-cards said, "I know a man who has a compass. But you'd have to strangle him to get it out of his hands for three seconds. It was a present from his girl, you see, and it's got her photo on the inside of the lid." "What?" said Billy. "His girl! That's even better! He must remember something from back home, away from this war; he might even know what army this is." Everyone around the fire stared at him, with a look that said, "No, you don't understand at all; and when we tell you the truth you will be deeply disappointed." No one seemed to want to tell him what was wrong with his reasoning, until Greg-who-cheated-at-cards pulled out a tattered black-and-white photograph from his wallet, and showed it to Billy. "Lots of us have girls back home," he said, "but the only way we know it is these pictures. We don't remember them; we don't even know them. But we arrived here with these cherished pictures in our pockets, and so we come to cherish the pictures, because it's what we're supposed to do as soldiers--cherish the picture of the girl back home. But we don't know any more than the guy who steps off the chopper with no picture knows--we just know we're supposed to cherish the pictures, and so we do." Billy paused, then said to Greg-who-cheated-at-cards, "Do you play poker, by any chance?" Greg stared at him with a blank expression. He looked at first shocked, then, though nothing perceptible had changed on his face except the twinkle of his eyes, Billy could see he was angry. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" he said. He stood up as he said this. "Leave him alone," said Don-don, whose name Billy also seemed to have known for all eternity, since before he stepped off the chopper. "Leave him be," repeated Don-don; "he's a detective." "Deeetective," said Ducky the Coward. Ducky clenched his teeth and forced a hissing moan through them. "Greg cheats at cards," said Don-don, "and so nobody will play him. He's never played cards at all, because everyone knew to begin with that he was Greg-who-cheats-at cards." Greg had sat down and was calmer. "I want to fucking play cards," he said in despondency. "I don't fucking cheat at cards, I haven't ever played cards, and no one will play me in cards." He was staring into the fire as he said this, and he said it to no one in particular. "Cards are his sore spot," said Don-don; "he came off the chopper knowing he loves to play cards, and everyone else came off knowing he cheats at cards. No one has ever played him in cards, and no one will, because . . ." "I don't fucking cheat at cards," said Greg-who-cheated-at-cards. "Because he cheats at cards," said Don-don.