The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [297]
“I was talking to Mother and she told me it’s an enlarged heart and it is, too, dangerous.”
“Have it your own way, but we’ll see.”
“Yes, if you live to tell the tale.”
“By the way, Studs, how’s Martin?” Phil quickly asked.
“Pretty good. He’s gotten to be quite a cocky kid, though, full of wisecracks. You know how a kid his age gets,” Studs answered.
“Martin’s so cute. The last time I saw him he was telling me all about a dance he went to and the trouble he had with his girl. And he was so sweet. And he kept saying, `She’s a kicker.’ I didn’t know what he meant, so I asked him. He looked at me as if I were so hopeless, and said he meant she was a good dancer. I could have just kissed him.”
“Why didn’t you? As long as he’s your brother, I won’t protest. I’ll even not object to first cousins,” Phil said.
“He might have been embarrassed,” Loretta said, smiling at Phil.
“Regular flapper, huh, Studs, she even has to flirt with her husband,” Phil said with affectionate irony, nodding at her.
“Yes, and her brothers,” Studs said.
“Oh, is that so?” she bantered.
“How about the kid, though, Studs, is he still hitting the bottle?” asked Phil.
“Well, sometimes, I guess, but maybe it won’t hurt him.”
“Studs, you should try and talk to him because you could do it better than Dad. Martin’s always looked up to you, and you could impress him.”
“He looks down on me now. I was trying to tell him a few things the other night and he just acted as if I was Foxy Grandpa and there wasn’t any hope for me,” Studs said, and after they had laughed, he continued with vanity creeping into his voice. “Of course, what I think is that a little drink now and then is a good thing as long as you don’t overdo it the way I did.”
“Studs, I’m awfully glad you’ve learned to be sensible about it.”
Studs turned quickly toward her, nettled, but Phil was speaking.
“Well, dear, we were just kids in the old days and didn’t see life the same as we do now.”
A hot one, Studs thought sardonically.
“Ever see anybody from Fifty-eighth?” he asked.
“I see Red and his wife nearly every Sunday at Church.”
“Phil ushers now at mass,” Loretta said.
“He’s talking nothing but politics these days.”
“Who do you think’ll win, Thompson or Cermak?”
“Cermak, of course. The Republicans have mined the city.”
“Oh, let’s not talk about that. All I ever hear discussed nowadays is politics or hard times. Isn’t there anything else to talk about?”
“Well, dear, you know men like to discuss the issues of the day,” Phil said.
“I know it, only if people wouldn’t bother their heads so much about it, and if they wouldn’t be so pessimistic and always expecting the worst, maybe they’d be better off. If you think of the worst, you’ll get it, and if you think of the best, you’ll have more chance of getting it. I really believe that. It’s called Telepathy, and Fran and I are going downtown to a lecture about it,” Loretta said.
“There might be something to it,” Phil said profoundly.
“Uhhuh!” Studs grunted weightily.
“You know, Studs, a lot of fellows I’ve known from Fifty-eighth Street and from the old days at Louise Nolan’s dance hall are hard up. Many of them have come around to see me asking for jobs.”
“I suppose so.”
“And, hell, I can’t do anything for ‘em, much as I’d like to. You see, for the protection I get from the law I’ve got to take care of all the fellows who are sent to me from the Hall. I hire all my men that way. Every time I’ve got to hire a new man, I call up and they send me somebody. I got to keep out of trouble myself, you know.”
“So that’s the way it’s run, huh?”
“Yeah! But here, Studs, have another cigarette,” Phil said, approaching him.
“Thanks.”
“Another thing, Studs. I’ve been thinking a lot about the World’s Fair we’re going to have in ‘33. That’s going to be a great thing for business and the city, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Studs answered after studious reflection.
“By then I hope we’ll be sitting pretty.”
“But, Phil, dear, if we want to have money saved up then, or ever, we really ought to save. You know we