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The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [71]

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to be careful and try and have his fun doing less dangerous things. It might seem brave to hitch on trucks, but it wouldn’t if Bill came home with a broken leg. Studs glowered at Loretta, and told her she would do well by minding her own business. He was reprimanded for this. Then Loretta said that she had also seen him taking a puff of that terrible Tommy Doyle’s cigarette over in Carter Playground the other day. The old lady cried, and spoke of the proverb: tell me your friends, and I’ll tell you who you are. She said William was too well educated to associate with such toughs. She said that smoking was a sin against God. Studs asked why; he said that men smoked. The old man said that smoking stunted a boy’s growth, ruined his health, disrupted his moral sense, and was against .. nature. He lit a long stogy. Frances said smoking was nasty, and Studs said nobody asked her for her two cents. Mrs. Lonigan said that it might give him TB. Studs kept wishing they would can the sermon. He asked them to cut it out, and he was reminded of the commandment to honor thy father and thy mother. He said he had some rights. The blah went back and forth.

When they arose from the table, grace was forgotten.

The old man went into the parlor, and put Cal Stewart’s account of how Uncle Josh joined the Grangers on the Victrola. He listened to it and laughed heartily. Then he made a decision, and called Studs into the parlor alone.

“Bill, don’t you think you ought to keep going to confession regularly?” he said.

“Yeh.”

“When’s the last time you were there?”

“May,” said Studs.

It was April, but he could get away with telling the old man it was May.

“At St. Patrick’s you had your sodality to remind you and keep you going regular. Now, it’s up to you, and you got to make the effort yourself . Now, Bill, I want you to promise me you’ll go next Saturday,” the old man said.

Studs promised.

A pause.

The old man’s face reddened. He started to speak, paused, blushed and said:

“Bill, you’re gettin’ older now, an’... well, there’s some-thin’ I want to tell you. You see, well, it’s this way, after a manner of speaking, you see, now the thing is quite delicate after a manner of speaking but you see, I’m your father and it’s a father’s duty to instruct the son, and you see now if you get a little itch... well you don’t want to start... rubbin’ yourself... you know what I mean... because such things are against nature, and they make a person weak and his mind weak and are liable even to make him crazy, and they are a sin against God; and then too, Bill... I wish you’d sort of wait a little while before you started in smokin’ .. .”

Silence. The boy and the father looking out at the lazy day, which was suddenly robbed of sunlight by a float of clouds. Studs felt self-conscious; he was ashamed of his body; he needed air and sunlight. Maybe if he ran he’d forget his body, or like it again, because running was good.

Studs promised not to smoke. Why the hell not? The old man would maybe give him a little extra spending money. The old man was glad, shook hands with him, as man to man, and gave Studs six bits. Studs pocketed the dough and got his cap. The old man read the Sunday paper. Studs went out. He felt better in the open air, and walked along, snappy; he wasn’t so ashamed of his body. He felt the seventy-five cents in his jeans. After a short debate with his conscience he lit a fag, and let it hang from the corner of his mouth. He told himself that he was tough, all right. He arranged his cap at an angle. He thought about Iris, and he wished her old lady was out, and he could go up there this afternoon. He remembered what the old man said about that thing making you crazy, and it bothered him. He tried his shutter trick to get rid of the thoughts, but it was hard. He walked fast and kept thinking his mind was a shutter, closing on these thoughts, until finally he got rid of them. He went over in front of the pool room, and spent the afternoon smoking cigarettes and listening to the lads talking.

V

One afternoon, when Studs missed the guys from

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