The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [204]
III
Studs was glad when he and Lucy left a large group in front of the College Inn and got into a cab. He didn’t mind the nine bucks he’d forked out at the place, but the people weren’t his kind, and he was glad to be away and alone with Lucy at last. She babbled about how successful a dance it had been. “I guess it made money,” he said without interest.
“Didn’t you enjoy it?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“You certainly sound awfully enthusiastic.”
“There were a lot of mopes there.”
“Why, they were all nice fellows.”
“Nice mopes, I say.”
“I see that you’re still a… tough guy.”
He wanted to expand his chest and say yes, he was, and he was going to be tougher after seeing those dingbats at the dance. But he said nothing. He felt as if she were slipping through his fingers, and that he ought to say something to catch and stop her before it was too late. He looked at her, wanting her, all of her, and she was like something beautiful in a mist. She smiled at him. Maybe no, he wasn’t losing her.
“You’re just the same, Studs... just like a little boy.”
She edged towards him, patted his cheek, took off his hat, ran her hands through his hair. She kissed him. She was in his arms. Suddenly, he was french-kissing her. He dug through her dress and touched her breast. She froze up, turned her face away.
“I’m not that kind of a girl.”
He tried, crudely, determined, unthinking, to pull her to him again.
“Please be careful,” she said cuttingly.
He looked out the window. He saw the lake. He grabbed her hand. He kissed her. She opened her mouth on the next kiss. He felt under her dress.
“I won’t hurt you. Come on,” he said huskily. He didn’t even think of his dose, all he had in mind was Lucy.
“I can’t... no... not here. If Mother isn’t home, may…”
“Why not?” he said.
“I can’t... it’ll be awful. I’ll ruin my clothes ...please wait till we get home,” she begged.
He believed her. They kissed, and he felt her all the way home. She got out of the car rumpled, and rushed into the hallway. He paid the bill.
She opened the inside door, and stood holding it, blocking his entrance. She pursed her lips for him. They kissed. He tried to push open the door.
“No,” she said.
She pushed his hat off, and when he turned, closed the door on him. He watched her go upstairs. She didn’t look back. He walked slowly out and away.
“That goddamn teaser!”
He felt that he’d been a goddamn chump, but realized what a bastard he’d been, trying to make her. He couldn’t get her out of his mind.
XIX
July 19, 1924
Los Angeles, Calif.
Dear Danny:
Well, O’Neill, I mean of course Danny old pal received your letter today and just think it took all that time from 18 to 28 to arrive to me I don’t know what kept it so long Cause you know right well I would ans. it just as soone as it would arrive to me like I’m doing now I’m very sorry to hear that Arnold Sheehan die good old Arnold he was a card and wish to you to express my sincere sympathy to his folks for me because I always like them and I know how they feel because I feel the same way when. I lose my father and he was the best man in all the world to me and there never a better father live any-where You said you once had a pal name Andy but let me tell you still have that pal if I got anything to say about it. Acorse I sure felt kind of bad over you not writing figure I had said something in one of my letter that you didn’t like so stop writing. So you might know how glad I was to hear from you first letter I received from any one in Chi for a long time indeed. So old Mike Higgins is back there again in one place then another thats hime all over with he sure has seen a lot of this good old United States let me tell you that we sure had a strange meeting know him the first time I saw him Can’t forget that boy and blives me he has change in every way got a he mans voice and quite tall and take it from me none of the fellows there will make a full of him now and I don’t mean maybe and I don’t mean even the older guys like Stutz Lonigan. I never like them any way they