The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [140]
Back at the general store of Morgan, now Jerome, the three friends enjoyed a happy and delicious dinner which Gloria had prepared. After dinner, she sat on Ames’ knee, and the men smoked. Suddenly, Durer arose and said goodbye. He walked out and away to a new village, singing but with a heart painted in the deep dyes of sorrow and unrequited love. Ames and Gloria saddened as they looked out the window to see him disappear. But love overpowered their sadness. They walked out into the glory of an Alaskan twilight, with the fading sun glowing over the snow. Under a tree, in the snow, before the setting sun, they kissed.
And under an Alaskan sunset, Studs Lonigan kissed Gloria, and kissed Lucy.
He made his exit with Slug, wishing there were more of it.
III
In front of the Michigan Theatre Studs guessed that he’d get coffee an’ with Slug near the show, and then go straight home. Slug wanted to go down to Fifty-eighth first and see if the lads were around. Studs said all right he’d go along, but he didn’t want to be out late because he needed rest; hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep all week. They crossed Garfield Boulevard, and walked south on Indiana Avenue. Studs felt close to Slug, as if Mason were his best friend. They seemed to understand each other, and when they were alone, they didn’t say much; but there seemed to be something deeper than words could express between them. Studs wondered did Slug have the same kind of thoughts that he had.
Exciting picture, full of action; peachy fight at the end, it was. And the broad had been a knockout. When Arnold went at her, her boobs had almost fallen out. If they only let the boobs really fall out in scenes like that. If they could show everything in movies. Wished that she had gotten her clothes wet; they would have stuck to her body, and it would have been the next thing to seeing her stripped. Would be plenty of delights marrying a jane like that. He kissed her; married her; went to bed with her .. .
“Good picture,” Slug mumbled.
“Yeah.”
“Have one,” Slug said, offering his pack of Camels to Studs.
Studs wondered what it would be like, hunting gold in Alaska. Yukon Lonigan in the gold fields. Taking a roulette game in Flamingo, Alaska, for a buggy ride. Shooting his way out to keep the gold he’d won. The picture made him want things like that, big dough, travel, broads as gorgeous as Gloria. The things he did, had no comparison with such a life; hanging around the poolroom, now and then a small-time crap game or round of poker; benders on Saturday night, and maybe a couple of times during the week; sometimes a can house. Nothing like it. And he could see himself returning from Alaska, with endless stories to tell, and his jeans sagging with dough. Knock everybody for a row then!
There were lots of things in life he’d been missing. He was doing a lot of the things he dreamed of doing when he’d been a kid. He wanted more and felt that somewhere there was something else for him in life, and it was the ticket that would satisfy the feeling he always got from the movies, from seeing a nice jane on the street, sometimes from walking in the park in summer and maybe looking at the sky, sometimes when walking home from work in the sunset.
Maybe if he married Lucy, it would turn out happy. Or someone like Gloria. If she and Lucy were the same girl! But what about when she would get old, and he’d want younger broads, and she had him tied home like a trained monkey in a zoo, and there’d be regiments of squawling brats coming along; he hated kids. He could just see himself parading in the hall in the middle of the night, carrying a bawling baby, and maybe having the baby let go in his arms. But having a decent girl, who was your wife, must be different than being with whores or bums you took over to the park. Slug said all broads were the same. There had to be more to it than that, more than it was like in a can house, hurrying through with it and being disgusted afterwards. But was it worth having a jane sink the hooks into you, and handcuff your dough? He didn