The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [119]
IX
“You know Dot Gorman. She’s older than us guys, see, but lemme tell you... she’s keen. KEEN!” funnyface Young Duffy orated for his own benefit.
“She ain’t so much. She’s horsefaced and stuckup,” Denny Dennis said.
“Say, your taste is all in your mouth,” Funnyface Duffy said.
Goofy Nate Klein called Duffy aside.
“Listen, punk. Dorothy Gorman is a friend of mine. She’s too nice a girl to be talked about in a joint like this. If you know when you’re healthy, don’t mention her name in this place again. And don’t call her Dot. Get me?”
“I didn’t say nothin’ against her. I was just complimenting her...”
“I told you that if you don’t want your friends taking up a collection for flowers for you, don’t mention her name in this joint again!” Nate said, hard-boiled.
X
“You know, I just went into the bedroom with that broad last night, and everything went out like the lights,” Studs said.
Tommy Doyle cracked a joke about what should have happened.
“Lookat the punks. They ain’t washed under the ears yet,” sneered Slug, gazing surprisedly around the poolroom.
“They look goofy in their ding-dong pants,” said Studs.
“Monkey suits,” said Slug; he pointed at the twenty-two-inch-bell-bottoms on Phil Rolfe’s carefully, precisely, exactly careless black suit. Phil turned his light-complexioned, insipid face towards them and smiled. He was wearing a blue shirt, collar attached, a soft, wine-red knit tie, and a light brown hat.
“Pull up your skirts,” said Stan Simonsky.
“Hi, kid,” patronized Phil.
“Hey, Rolfe?” yelled Red.
“What you say, Red,” replied Phil with aplomb.
“Hey, punk, where’s your rubber knee pads?” Studs sneered.
“Did you get that out of a joke book?” he asked, but he blushed slightly.
Phil walked away from them, towards a table in the back.
“Hey, Studs, I haven’t eaten today. Can you loan me two bits. After a while, I’ll shark some guy in a pool game, but Christ, I’m starved!” said TB McCarthy; TB was thin, consumptive-looking, with jaundiced cheeks that seemed to be shrivelling and hollowing away. He wore a spotted, unpressed, shabby, brown suit.
“Get out of here, heel.”
“Muggsy mooching again?” said Red.
“Jesus, Red, I haven’t eaten today,” said Muggsy.
“Well, McCarthy, there’s lots of horse manure in the alley,” said Slug. All the other guys in the bunch guffawed.
XI
“Thanks, kid, and I’ll have the liquor back to you at three-thirty this afternoon. And I guarantee that it’s bonded,” Jeff said, taking three and a half dollars from funnyface Young Duffy.
“Sure now that it’s good stuff?” asked Duffy.
“I wouldn’t sell it to you if it wasn’t,” Jeff convincingly replied.
Jeff struggled and puffed towards the door. Everybody got in his way and he had a hell of a time squeezing past them.
XII
“All I hope is that that dope starts her like nobody’s business,” Wils Gillen said.
“It did for me when I had the scare about Elizabeth,” Ellsworth said.
“Well, if it don’t... Holy Jesus!”
“You’ll either have to join the navy or else ... marry the pig.”
“Marry her, a Midway Garden bum?”
“If it don’t, I know a doctor. I fixed up Sadie Prevost with him when she was knocked up by all you guys. She’s all right, only to raise the dough she had to go out and hustle. She did so well hustling that she’s in the business for good now,” Darby Dan Drennan said.
“She sacrificed her amateur standing, huh?” said Ellsworth.
“If it don’t, it’s the marines and see the world, boys,” Wils said.
“Anyway, Wils, no matter how tough a hole you’re in, remember that you’ll always be better off than poor Paulie Haggerty,” philosophized Darby Dan Drennan.
“Now ain’t that something,” said Wils.
XIII
“Sure, I’m good,” Young Rocky said, hanging up his cue.
“You made some good shots,” Bob Connell said professionally.
“Hang around with me, brother, and you’ll learn how to shoot pool,” Young Rocky said. His eyes opened in wide interest. “Let there be light and there was light. Let there be Louisa Nolan’s Dance Hall, and there was Three Star Hennessey.”
Three Star Hennessey, a pimply-faced runt, wearing a cheap blue suit with flapping bell bottoms, ambled towards them.