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By Root 24799 0

’d followed it conscientiously for years. He could see himself a hundred years old, walking erect without a cane, not fat either like his father was, coming back to the old neighborhood, looking at all the old buildings where Lucy and Helen Shires and Dan Donoghue and Red Kelly had lived, going over to Washington Park and sitting by the lagoon, or in the boathouse, walking over to the wooded island, looking at the tree where he and Lucy had sat, or at the spot, if the tree was gone, going all around to see the old sights, thinking about all the things he’d done as a kid so long long long ago, and the things he was doing now, thinking about Lucy and Helen Shires, and the girl who sat next to him at Christmas mass and who maybe would be his wife. And maybe when he was a hundred and did that, he might still be having as much as ten years to go. He wanted to live longer than any man in the whole world had ever lived. And goddamn it, he would.

He wanted to be strong and healthy and never turn into a weak-kneed, unhealthy guy. And he would. He got up, and shadow-boxed clumsily around the room. He tensed his stomach and felt it to see if his exercises and training had hardened up his guts. He couldn’t tell. He still had something of an alderman. Well, that would go. And he would have a long time to live. He’d only worried unnecessarily about his heart and his stomach. He dressed, ate supper, and then left. He was going over to the Y tonight, and Red and some of the guys were coming along. He walked along, confident and happy, feeling, too, that he wouldn’t be hanging around, wondering every few minutes what time it was, and what they’d do.

II

“But it’s a pretty long walk, Studs,” Les said.

“It’ll do us good. It’ll be exercise.”

“I get plenty of exercise wrestling freight for John Continental.”

“Come on, a little more won’t hurt you. I get exercise, too. And if we go by street car, we’d have to go down to Sixty-first, and then transfer at Cottage Grove.”

“It’d be quicker.”

“Come on,” Studs said, as they entered the park.

“Say, what’ll we have to do?”

“Sign up, pay the fee, and then we can use the gym and swimming pool.”

They walked across the park, saying little. Studs tried to think of himself al a prizefighter or some kind of an athlete putting himself in condition to come back. It made it appear more interesting and important that way. It was as if he was somebody in the limelight, a celebrity, and the world was interested in his success and failure. And now, suppose he was a fighter, would it be best for him to call himself Studs Lonigan, Young Lonigan, or K. O. Lonigan?

“Say, aren’t Y. M. C. A.’s dopey places?”

“I guess they got all boy scouts in them, but we’re going there to swim and use the gym and get ourselves in condition physically.”

“Then, what do we do?”

“What the hell! Don’t you like to be healthy?”

“Sure, I guess so.”

“Puddles here,” Studs said, skipping and leaping over a stretch of watery ground.

“I knew it would be best not to come this way.”

“We’re near the hills now. Then we’ll be past the puddles.” Les laughed to himself.

“What’s the comedy?” asked Studs.

“I was thinking what would the teameos I know at the express company think, if they knew I was going to a Y. M. C. A.. Jesus, them turkeys down there would ride the pants off me.”

“You don’t have to tell them, and if they do find out, what the hell’s the difference? Tell them to go to and stay put.”

“But they’ll find out. Down there at that express company they find out about everything a guy does. They got the best grapevine in the world.”

“There are a lot of bastards like that in this world. I’d like to see them all in hell too.”

“Cigarette, Studs?”

“No, thanks.”

“Jesus, you’re doing this thing right.”

“If I plan to do something, I don’t see any reason to do it half ass,” Studs said.

“I wonder why Tommy and Red and the guys didn’t come along. They all promised to.”

“Hell, they’re mopes. And they’re going to a goddamn shine cabaret, and maybe get slashed with a razor,” Studs said. “They never think of what’s going to happen to them.