Young Lonigan - James T. Farrell [135]
Mush passed to another group.
“That bastard hasn’t worked since Noah got piped on the Ark,” said Loeb.
“I wouldn’t give him my dough. Him and McCarthy try and scrouge on me every time I see them.”
XXIII
“Andy, are the Irish hundred-per-cent Americans?” asked Connell.
“No, because they believe in the Pope,” Le Gare answered.
“All right, punk, keep religion out of it,” ordered Red Kelly, who had come over to see why they were having such a good time razzing Andy.
“Say, if the Klan is so tough, why doesn’t it come around looking for the Irish some night when it’s out riding in nightshirts like kids on Halloween?” asked Darby Dan.
“They know when they’re healthy,” said Red.
“I’ll bet Andy’s old man has a horse looking like Sparkplug in Barney Google,” commented Eddie Eastwood.
“Why don’t you come around with the Klan if they’re so damn tough?” Drennan said.
“If they did, you would all run home and hide behind your mother’s apron string.”
“Blah!”
Andy issued a blanket challenge to fight any one his size and age who was present.
“Gawan home, and come back on a kiddy-car, wearing your sister’s nightgown and we’ll fight you,” sneered Drennan.
“Don’t insult my sister!” Andy said, knocking Drennan down with a punch.
Drennan sat on the floor holding his jaw; Andy stood over him, defying him to get up and fight like a man. George the Greek told Andy to get out and not come back.
“Keep your old poolroom!” Andy yelled from the doorway in a sulk.
“No, Andy, take it along with you,” Hennessey answered.
XXIV
“Paulie’s dead!” Benny Taite yelled, rushing in excitedly, disrupting everything.
“Poor Paulie!” Studs said, next to Taite in the center of a stunned group.
“You know, years ago, I warned him to take care of himself, and not be a damn fool with the molls. But poor Paulie, every time he saw a skirt he lost his head and didn’t know what he was doing,” Red Kelly oracularly said.
“You know, I can’t really believe that he’s gone,” said Studs.
“He was my old buddy,” Hennessey said.
“A better lad never walked Fifty-eighth Street,” Kelly said.
“Death is a funny thing, all right,” Tommy Doyle said.
“We all get called at some time,” Les said.
“Yeah, it’s a funny thing. You never know who it’s going to slap down next, and you never think much about it until one day, it puts your best friend out for the count,” Red philosophized.
“It’s awful, a tragedy,” said Phil Rolfe.
“He had the priest, didn’t he?” said Red.
“Shrimp said that a priest named Doneggan was there when he died,” Taite said.
“We’ll have to take up a collection for flowers,” suggested Red.
“Jesus, he’s one poor bastard who ended up behind the eight ball,” Slug said.
“He can’t be dead. Why he was so young, he never lived,” said Bob Connell.
“Say, punk, how old are you?” asked Kelly.
“Sixteen,” said Hennessey.
“Punks like you should be seen and not heard,” Kelly said.
“Poor Paulie,” sighed Les.
XXV
“Say, let’s give the Greek the finger on this game,” said Lyman.
“O.K.,” said Young Rocky.
Lyman aimed to shoot the fifteen ball for game in slop pool. He missed, and poked the ball in a pocket with his cue.
“Pay up!” he hollered.
“I will like hell,” said Young Rocky.
“You lost,” said Lyman.
“Gimme! Gimme!” said Mike to both of them.
“See him,” said Lyman.
“That bastard is trying to cheat me. I won,” said Young Rocky.
“Come ona, you fellahs, what’s a the matter?” asked George, coming over.
“I won’t pay. He shoved the game ball in with his cue.”
“Pay up, you tight heel. I made it fair and square,” said Lyman.
“You’re a liar!” said Young Rocky.
“Don’t call me a liar!” said Lyman.
“No! Well, it’s double,” said Young Rocky.
“Come on outside,” said Lyman.
“Here! Pay, pay, pay!” said Mike.
“I’ll brain you guys with a cue,” threatened George.
Lyman and Young Rocky grabbed their coats, and dashed to the door, followed by an expectant group. At the door they turned and yelled in unison.
“Finger! Finger Greek!”
They laughed and walked away, arm-in-arm.
XXVI
“Quarter after one!” said Slug, standing with Mike at the window.