Young Lonigan - James T. Farrell [71]
“Hell, Kenny! I was only kiddin’. I take it all back,” said Studs.
They faced each other, and in a minute or two the incident was forgotten. Kenny became his old self.
“It’s too hot, or we could go raidin’ ice boxes. But I don’t feel like much effort today,” Kenny said.
“Let’s go swimmin’,” suggested Studs.
“O.K.,” said Kenny.
“All right. I’ll get my suit and meet you here in twenty minutes,” said Studs.
“But I’ll have to get a suit. I ain’t got none,” said Kenny.
“Whose will you borrow?” asked Studs.
Kenny winked.
“What beach’ll we go to?” asked Studs.
“Fifty-first Street,” said Kenny.
“Ain’t there a lot of Jews there?” asked Studs.
“Where ain’t there kikes? They’re all over. You watch. First it’s the hebes, and then it’s the niggers that’s gonna overrun the south side,” Kenny said.
“And then where ull a white man go to?” asked Studs.
“He’ll have to go to Africa or ... Jew-rusalem,” said Kenny.
Kenny sang Solomon Levi with all the sheeny motions, and it was funny, because Kenny was funny, all right, and could always make a guy laugh.
Afterward Studs said:
“If we go to Jackson Park, it might be better.”
“There’s Polacks there,” said Killarney.
“Well, how about Seventy-fifth Street beach?” asked Studs.
“It’s O. K. But listen, sometimes Iris is at Fifty-first.”
“That’s a different story. I got to meet this here Iris,” said Studs.
“Yeh,” said Kenny.
“I hope she’s there.”
“She’s sweet. Boy, she’s just UMMMMMMMMMMMMMM-MMM,” said Kenny.
“Is she really good?” asked Studs.
“Best I ever had,” said Kenny like he was an older guy with much experience.
“Well, I’m going to be a disappointed guy if she ain’t,” said Studs.
“But listen! Don’t work so fast. Suppose she don’t give you a tumble. Sometimes she gets temperament, and then she’s no soap until some guy she gets a grudge against beats it ... She’s like a primadonna,” said Kenny.
“I thought she was like a sweetheart of the navy,” Studs said.
“Well, sometimes she is and sometimes she isn’t.”
“Yeah. But anyway, you just lead me to her,” boasted Studs.
“Well, at that, you’re talkin’ horse sense,” said Kenny.
“Horsey sense,” said Studs.
“Well, anyway, I got to get my suit,” said Kenny.
Kenny told Studs to walk down Fifty-eighth toward Indiana.
“And when I come tearin’ along, you run, too, and cut through the lot on Indiana, and down the alley, and through that trick gangway to Michigan,” he added.
Studs did. In a moment, Kenny came running along, and they carried out their plan of escaping, though no one was chasing them. On Michigan, Kenny pulled out the two-piece bathing suit he had copped; the trunks were blue, the top white.
“If it only fits now,” he said.
They laughed together, and Studs said that Kenny had real style. Kenny laughed, and said it was nothing to cop things from drug stores. Studs told himself that Killarney was a guy, all right.
They put their suits on under their clothes at Studs’. The suit fitted Kenny. They went over to South Park and bummed rides to Fifty-first, and did the same thing along Fifty-first and Hyde Park Boulevard. They had fun on Hyde Park Boulevard. It was a ritzy neighborhood where everybody had the kale and all the men wore knickers and played tennis and golf, and all the guys were sissies. Kenny had chalked his K.K. initials all over the Fifty-eighth Street neighborhood, so he started putting mysterious K.K. signs on the Boulevard. And he kept walking on the grass, making fun of the footmen and wriggling his ears at the well-dressed women. They saw one hot dame, in clothes that must have cost a million bucks, and Kenny commented on the large breastworks she had. He spoke too loud, and she heard him. She went up in the air like a kite, and talked very indignantly about ragamuffins from the slums. When they got out of her hearing, they laughed.
The lake was very calm, and way out it was as blue as the sky on a swell summer evening. And the sun came down over it like a blessing. And they