The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [352]
“She looks like she’s got a high-powered engine of passion in her,” Studs said, lighting a cigarette.
“I see you covered up, girlie,” Coombs said when she entered the parlor, her body draped in a bright red kimono that kept slipping down one shoulder.
“Now, please don’t talk too loudly. My baby’s asleep in the next room,” she said, striking a seductive pose with her abdomen flaunted outward.
“Oh, a baby,” Coombs said.
She turned away to answer the bell.
“Well, sister, here we is, a-rarin’ to go,” Cohen said, rubbing his hands as he entered the parlor.
“And too much delay and anxiety now will weaken me,” Burke smiled.
“I’ll be right in,” she said.
“Don’t talk too loud. Her baby is asleep,” Coombs said.
“Certainly low, isn’t she? But still, she’s the goods, and it ain’t our look-out,” Burke said quietly, shaking his head, his face showing disgust.
“I hope one or two of you boys go first and get the lady cranked up right for me,” said Cohen.
Studs was reminded of the gang shag they had once had at Iris’ on Prairie Avenue, when he had lost his cherry. Since then he had never had it and gotten as much out of it as he hoped for, except maybe once with that little bitch from Nolan’s who had dosed him. He wished he was only as old as when they’d gang-shagged Iris, and going in to this woman.
“I never had tail under such queer circumstances,” Burke said.
“Life, my boy, is stranger than fiction.”
“It’s much better than a can-house, and only half a buck more,” Burke said.
“When I came, she answered the door in her drawers. Nice, isn’t she, Lonigan?” Coombs said.
“Getting down to business, boys, take these to keep yourselves out of the rain,” Cohen said, going around to each of them.
She entered carrying a pack of playing cards, and each drew. Studs was highest with a ten of diamonds.
“Lonigan, save us a little,” Burke said.
“Listen, if you think you can say such things, you better leave. This is my house. I’m not going to stand for your lewdness,” she said.
“I’m sorry. No harm meant,” Burke said meekly.
“Watch your tongue then!” she said, softening her challenge. She collected two-fifty from each of them.
“My baby is taking its nap in the bedroom off here. Please be quiet. And you can come into the bedroom down the hall in a minute,” she said, looking at Studs.
Studs nodded, trying to keep himself under control. As she left the room, Burke laughed, shook his head quizzically.
“Treat us like a pal. We’ll be waiting anxiously out here,” Burke said.
Grinning foolishly, Studs walked down the hall, opened the bedroom door.
“All right?” he asked.
“Come in,” she said.
He entered the small, neat bedroom and saw her, naked, her black hair falling down her back, reclining on a high poster bed, with feminine clothes and a copy of True Stories magazine on a chair beside it.
“Well, I suppose we better get started,” she said coldly.
IV
“Three cheers,” said Cohen when Studs re-entered the parlor, interrupting them as they cut cards for nickels.
He was disappointed, because it had all happened so quickly.
“Boys, wish me luck,” said Coombs, arising.
“How you like the lady?” asked Burke.
The baby began squawling as Studs grinned knowingly at Burke.
“Hey, Coombs, tell her the brat is bawling. Ask her what we should do?” Burke called. Turning to Cohen, he said, “That big mugg Coombs is dumb. Let’s tell him to mind it.”
Cohen grinned.
They saw her, naked, enter the bedroom, carrying the baby back. It still cried as she closed the door behind her.
Coombs was in the room with her, and the baby let out a long wail as Studs put on his hat and left. All over so quickly. He wanted more, but she’d said no encores without another two and a half. And he’d rather go back alone some morning than now with the others there.
He felt lazy, too, and he thought of how when he went back it would be better. She was nice, and he remembered her naked on the bed when he’d entered