The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [92]
“Say, maybe we can get in just as we are,” said Red.
“We hadn’t better take any chances. I only weigh a hundred and ten pounds, and Kenny’s lighter. How about you?”
“I’m about one nine,” said Red.
“We better eat the bananas,” said Studs.
“You’re pretty anxious,” said Red, as Studs got up and walked in front of him.
“Kind of,” said Studs, running his words together.
“I can understand it.”
“Suppose he gets caught?” said Studs, glancing north.
“Kenny never gets caught.”
“Hello, fellows... Say, got a fag?” asked Three Star Hennessey.
“Go on home and wash your face,” Red said.
“Don’t be a heel,” said Hennessey.
“Why don’t you go to school? The truant officer will be nabbing you, and your old man will kick your ears off,” said Studs, with the superior sneer warranted by age and size.
“Say, what you guys doing today?” Hennessey asked.
“Nothin’,” said Red with obvious mysteriousness, and winked at Studs.
“Hey, punk, blow!” Studs commanded.
“Aw, come on, Studs, what did I ever do to you?”
“I’ll give you just about five seconds to remove yourself from sight,” said Red.
“This place is free. I don’t have to, if I want to stay here.”
“No?”
“No!” whined Hennessey.
“For the last time... Blow!”
Hennessey stood there gritting his teeth. Red kicked him in the tail. He bawled.
“Need another invitation?” asked Studs.
“You don’t own this sidewalk,” Hennessey sniveled, snot running from his nose.
Red slapped his face. Studs booted him one.
“If you don’t blow now, I’ll kill you, you little...,” Hennessey ran, yelling back wait till he got his gat.
Kenny rode up whooping, with a basket full of bananas. They congratulated him again. He imitated the way the dago peddler had shagged him. But there had been no one on the street so it had been a cinch. They went to Kenny’s basement.
“Here goes,” said Red, peeling his first banana, as they sat on boxes.
“Well, Kenny, how’ll you like it in the trenches?” asked Studs.
“Me, I’ll he a general by that time.”
“General Kilarney,” said Studs; they laughed.
“This ain’t so bad,” said Studs, starting on his second banana.
“Nope,” said Kenny, swigging water from a milk bottle.
“Wait till we get over there. You’ll be so funny, the Germans will have to laugh at you. Christ, when we get to Berlin I’ll bet you’ll steal the Kaiser’s mustache,” Red said.
“I’ll be a soldier of America,” Kenny said melodramatically.
“I’d like an iron cross to bring back,” said Studs, his face stuffed with banana.
“I can just picture Kenny. When he goosesteps, it’ll be better than Charlie Chaplin,” said Red.
Kenny mimicked the goosestep.
“How do you feel?” asked Red, after Kenny had finished the comedy.
“All right,” Studs valorously said.
“I’m O. K. too,” said Red, slowly reaching for another banana.
“I never felt better. These things agree with me,” Kenny said, biting off almost a half.
“Me too,” said Studs, not to be outdone, as he jammed half of a banana in his mouth.
“Wait till tonight when we go around the poolroom and say: `Well, boys, wish us luck!’” Red said.
“Christ, will they be surprised,” said Studs.
“They won’t believe us,” said Red.
“Here, have another, Red,” said Kenny, tossing him one. Studs took the milk bottle and filled it slowly at the faucet. He looked at the bananas stacked in the basket.
“Jesus, you certainly got enough,” he said.
“Need ‘em, I’m only a bantamweight,” Kenny replied.
Red took a gulp of water. He set the bottle down and cursed. “What’s the matter, son? Gettin’ you already? That’s no way to be a soldier,” said Kenny.
“I just drank too fast,” Red said, biting a hunk.
“Say, Kenny, your janitor will like us, dumping these skins all over,” said Studs.
“He’s only a Hunky,” said Kenny.
“You won’t win a war on that stomach, Kelly,” kidded Kilarney after Red had belched.
“I’m all right. It’s only that I drank that water too damn fast. How about you, Studs?”
Studs nodded, reaching towards the basket.
“Kenny, show us how you’re going to bayonet the Clown Quince,” said Studs.
“This is serious,” said Kenny.
He told a dirty joke. It was