The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [173]
“They’re mopes.”
They crossed the hills on the far side of the park, went over the drive, along a path, and out at Fifty-fifth and Cottage.
“It’s only down a few blocks and over on Fifty-second Street.”
“That don’t irritate me none,” Les said.
They turned east on Fifty-second Street.
“Hey, Shrimp doesn’t look so good, does he?”
“He’s hitting the bottle every day. I don’t think he’s been sober since New Year’s. He’s wasting away to a shadow,” Studs said.
“Yeah, poor Shrimp’s wasting away to a shadow.”
“He can drink the whole gang of us together under the table,” Studs said.
“He certainly doesn’t look any too good. I’ll say that,” Les said.
“He’s ripping his guts out with rotgut,” Studs said.
III
Feeling out of place at the Y entrance, they paused in momentary indecision. Studs acted casual. Les was nervous, and blushed.
“Studs, this joint looks phony to me,” Les said.
“Yeah.”
There was a drugged sanctimoniousness about the sappy-looking birds seated in the lobby. Studs felt that there wasn’t a man or a regular guy amongst them. The desk was at the right of the rectangular lobby, and a blond young man, with a pinhead mustache, stood behind it.
“I suppose we should ask this dope,” Studs said, approaching the desk.
“All I can say is that I don’t like the looks of this joint,” Les said.
“Sure, everyone in the joint was probably a boy scout when he was a punk. What can you expect? But we came here to use the gym and swim. We don’t have to worry about all these mopes.”
As they passed a lounge, a small little chap, with a wax-like mustache and stacombed hair, stopped before another guy who was reading the American Magazine.
“Hello, old man!” the chap with the wax-like mustache said.
“Why, George! Gee, George, I’m pleased to see you.”
“I wonder what museum those eggs came from,” Studs quietly said to Les.
“This one,” Les answered.
The clerk directed them to the office of the Membership Secretary. As they entered the office, the vacuous-looking, pale secretary rose and said:
“Good evening, fellows!”
He heartily shook hands with them. They took seats at his direction.
“You gentlemen, I presume, are desirous of becoming members.”
They nodded.
“Well, we’re always pleased to have the right kind of members. And were you intending to reside here with us?”
“No.”
“You’re Christians, I assume?”
“Irish,” said Les.
“And if I may ask, what is it that prompts you to join us?” Studs said for the use of the gym and swimming. He told them of the salutary effect of exercise and sports, and what fine fellows they had in the organization. They were given membership blanks to fill out, and their dough was collected. They were told they’d have to be examined by the doctor, but the doctor was not around. They went down to the lockers to undress for a swim.
“That guy’s clammy,” Studs said.
IV
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever gone swimming before at this time of the year,” Les said.
“I did,” Studs said.
“I always hate the first splash. Hitting the water for the first time makes me nervous.”
“All you have to do is just dive in and it’s over with.”
“I know, but thinking about it in advance makes me nervous.”
They came to the pool, and heard shouting and splashing. Inside, they paused, and looked around, seeing many naked guys. A tall fellow made a big splash as he dove from the. board at the deep end of the pool. Studs said that guy didn’t know how to dive... They moved around to the diving board. Studs said let’s go, walked to the end of the board, stood on his toes, rocked a moment, and leaped, turning over as he went down, arms first, making little splash.
“Nice one, Studs,” Les yelled.
Studs came up, puffed, and took a few strokes. He about-faced and swam the crawl stroke back to the pool edge. Holding to the railing with one hand, and splashing water with the other, he told Les it was swell, to come on in. Les said he would, he was just standing there a minute. Studs let go of the railing, and pushed himself away from the pool edge. He turned on his back and floated, the Pool sounds and muffling shouts sounding vague in his ears. He turned over and swam speedily to the shallow end of the pool, turned around without stopping, and returned swimming as swiftly as he could, but tiring with each stroke, so that his breath came more irregularly, and his arms seemed to grow heavy. He puffed noticeably, and his arms were leaden as he climbed up the ladder, and out of the pool.