The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [12]
He heard his old man and his old lady speaking.
“Well, Mary, we got our children started now. We got Bill and Frances pretty near raised.”
“Yes, Patrick, and I’m so happy, because it’s been such a hard job, you know.”
“Yeah, we done well by ‘em, and paid their way, and now it won’t be so hard as it was, and when we get ‘em all raised, and brought up, and educated, we’ll take a trip to Ireland. It will be our second honeymoon... And, Mary, you and I’ll have to give more time to ourselves and spark about a little. This summer sure, we’ll go out to Riverview Park and have a day of our own, like we planned for so long,” he said.
“Yes, Patrick... And, Patrick, these little spats the children have, they’re nothin’ at all,” she said.
“Nope. They happen in the best regulated families,” the old man said; he laughed, as if he had cracked a good joke.
“And nobody can say we ain’t done right by our children,” he said.
“They certainly can’t.”
“And we paid their way,” he said.
“Yes... and Sister Bernadette Marie told me how fine a boy William was, and how grand a girl Frances is,” Mrs. Lonigan said.
“Yeah!” the old man said.
Then the old lady started to talk about the high school they would send Studs to. Studs knew what was coming. She was going to suggest that he be sent to study for the priesthood. He got sore, and wanted to yell at her. But the old man dismissed the whole subject. He said they could decide later, adding:
“I got the money, and we can send the lad any place we want to.”
“But here, you get your tie on and comb your hair. We have to go, Patrick... And, Martin, come here and let me see your fingernails and behind your ears. Did you wash your neck? That’s a good boy. And your teeth? Open your mouth... Well, for once you are presentable . and Loretta, is your dress on? Come here. Yes, you look like a little lady .. “
She entered Studs’ room, retied his tie, and recombed his hair, much to his discomfort, and made him go over his fingernails again; he felt as if they were trying to make a molly-coddle out of him. She pinned on the long class ribbons of golden yellow and silvery blue. He sat on the bed, waiting for them, thinking about all kinds of things.
Looking like Sunday, or as if they had just walked out of a dusty family album, the Lonigan family promenaded down Michigan Avenue. Studs and Frances marched first. Studs felt stiff; he told himself he must look like some queer egg or other. Frances marched along, proud and lady-like. She did not deign to glance at Studs, but she teased him in a voice so loud that all heard her. He walked along, looking straight ahead, his eyes vacant; he thought up all the curse words he could and silently flung them at her. Loretta and Martin followed. Loretta was carrying the beautiful bouquet of. white roses and carnations that were for Frances, and she walked along imitating her sister. She even teased Martin with the same words that Frances was using. Martin had to be cautioned by his parents, because he did not suffer in sulky silence, as Studs did. Father and mother formed the rear guard; parental pride oozed from them like healthy perspiration; the lean mother looked frugal, even in the plain but expensive blue dress she had bought for the occasion. Passersby glanced at them a second time, and they smiled with satisfaction. The old man kept repeating that he hoped Father Gilhooley would give the kids a big send-off.
“Studs got long pants on,” Martin said, to escape the teasing of Fritzie.
Fritzie giggled.
“Close your beak,” Studs turned and said.
“Martin, how many times have I forbade you to call him that awful name... and William, don’t talk like that to my baby... The two of you cutting up like that in public ... I’m ashamed of you,” the mother said.
“Now, cut it out,” the old man said authoritatively.