Young Lonigan - James T. Farrell [114]
“I inherited it from my grandfather. He didn’t work for forty years, and I’m out to break his record,” Benny dryly said.
“Say, for Christ sake, let’s do something,” Studs said, suddenly restive with inaction, while the boys were laughing.
“Exercise your tail on that chair you got. That’s what days like this were made for,” said Taite.
“What time is it?” said Studs.
“Two o’clock,” said Red.
“Lonigan’s waitin’ for supper again,” said Kenny; they laughed.
“Let’s go over to the park,” said Studs.
“Walk a block and a half in this sun? Not this sun-dodger,” Kilarney said.
“Oh, by the way, fellows, I forgot to tell you that I saw Paulie Haggerty,” Red said.
“Is he still chasin’ that jane of his?” asked Studs.
“Married her. I think it was a shot-gun wedding,” said Red.
Kilarney suddenly changed their astonishment to amusement by melodramatically lamenting that poor Paulie preferred double wretchedness to single blessedness.
“You know, fellows, getting your ashes hauled is one thing, and getting married is another. You can joke all you want about marriage, but it’s sacred, a sacrament of the Church, and when you’re married it’s serious, for life. Paulie’s too young for that, he’s only seventeen. He might be ruining his whole life. . . . Well, he can’t say that I didn’t warn him because I did, plenty,” Red Kelly said.
“Hey, Kelly, why don’t you hire a hall?” Kilarney said.
“Kilarney, you couldn’t be serious about anything, could you?” Kelly said, good naturedly.
“He must be cured,” Studs said, butting in on Kilarney’s rejoinder.
“He said it cured itself, but he can’t kid me, and nobody can tell me that a dose cures itself without even a doctor. And if you ask me, he’s playing a damn rotten trick on Eileen. She was a sweet girl, coming from a decent family and a good home. She falls for him, and what does he do but knock her up, and I suppose dose her. Paulie is a pal of mine, and I’d stick through hell with him, but he certainly did act like a rat with Eileen.”
“Hell, Red, that jane is five years older than he is, and don’t tell me she didn’t know what he was doing. She chased him all over the neighborhood, and now she’s got a ball and chain on him. Christ, he’ll even have to go to work,” Taite said, burlesquing his last sentence.
“That’s not so. It was a lousy trick, and she comes from a decent family and doesn’t deserve it,” Red said.
“Red, she’s a terrible spider, and she spun a web around Paulie, my pal Paulie,” Kilarney said, extravagantly.
Weary Reilley entered, with his right hand bandaged. They asked him if he’d been knocking brick buildings over.
“I just tangled holes with some flukey-looking wiseacre down at Sixty-third and the Grove. He thought he was tough, so I sent him home with a handful of teeth and a puss full of blood. But I damn near broke my hand to hell on him and had to have three stitches put in it. Anyway, I learned something. Instead of breaking my dukes any more on some rat’s face, I’m getting me a nice pair of brass knucks.”
Studs thought of how he hadn’t had a fight since hell-and-gone. But once he’d cleaned up Reilley. Nobody else in the neighborhood had. He supposed, too, that he’d have to tangle again with him. Reilley always tried to get even. Well, Reilley wouldn’t be as hard this time, with his dukes on the fritz. They kept asking Reilley questions and praising him. Hell, had they forgot what a battler Studs Lonigan was?
“Say, who in hell is going to give me a fag?”
“Kilarney, don’t you ever smoke your own?” Red responded.
“O.P.’s satisfy me.”
“Some day other people will get wise to you,” kidded Red.
“Fellow, you know what Barnum said?”
Studs handed Kenny a cigarette.
“Thanks, chump,” kidded Kilarney.
“Hey, Kilarney, think you’ll ever amount to much?” asked Taite.
“Sure! Why I even went downtown yesterday to look for a job.”
“How was the show?” asked Doyle.
“Good bill at the State and Lake.”
“I guess then we’ll all have to go looking for a job tomorrow,” Red said.
“What about you, Reilley, have you been thinkin