The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [185]
He paid fifty cents and entered, handing his ticket to a bald-headed, narrow-faced man who looked as if he belonged ushering in a Protestant Church. A mixed, talkative crowd was spread over the shabbily-carpeted lounge. Studs was ill at ease because so many of them were strangers to him who were known here, while he wasn’t. Strangers coming into the Greek’s poolroom and seeing him and all the fellows perfectly at home, would have felt the same way. He saw a sign pointing up a stair-way to the check-room. He went up and checked his hat and coat. Two kids with familiar faces looked at him with a glimmering recognition, but he was unable to place them and did not speak. He perceived that the upper floor was a bare balcony and returned to the lounge.
“Come up here to ankle around?” asked Wils Gillen, his face brightening with surprise.
“Oh, I thought I’d look the place over and watch you punks.”
“You want to watch the lads strut their stuff, huh, Studs?”
“Christ, most of them here look like kids,” Studs said, glancing around.
“Sure, we get the girls from Park High in first year, and train them. After we break them in, there’s nobody can complain of their style and technique. Right now we’re putting them through their spring training, so that when summer comes they can all do their stuff over on the wooded island in Jackson Park.”
“So that’s what you guys do! Ruin nice girls,” Studs kidded.
“Leave it to us.”
“What, do all the girls up here put out?”
“If you don’t succeed, try again. But there’s Elizabeth and she’s easy stuff.”
Studs smiled as Gillen hastened towards a mushy-lipped kid, with a ravishing figure. Music started and there was a crush towards the dance floor. He saw Hennessey with a luscious blond in wine-red, and after them, Young Rocky leading a baby-faced .thing. He moved to the edge of the rectangular dance floor, and watched the couples pass. In the center, he saw a group of six couples doing the Polack Hop, holding partners by the shoulders, skipping contortedly from side to side. and then skipping on one foot sidewise. He shook his head. That wasn’t dancing! He saw Three Star Hennessey, and the blond in red, wantonly socking it in, in a corner.
“Hello, Studs,” said Ellsworth Lyman, interrupting him from watching.
He watched Lyman move away and grab off the dance with a dark-haired Irish kid, who looked like a knockout. He approached a homely but husky Swede. They walked to the dance floor. From their first step, her big feet got in his and her own way.
“Do you come here all the time?” she asked with an accent.
“Me? No,” he said.
“Nice music,” she said.
He nodded. He felt as if everyone in the place knew him and were watching him, perhaps laughing behind his back, and thinking that all he could get for a dance was a dumb Swede pig. An expression of lust settled on her face, and she socked with him shamelessly.
“Hello, Studs, how come you’re here,” yelled Three Star passing him.
Studs did not reply. The Swede had got him hot, and she had her uses, even if she was so damn clumsy.
“Like it?” she said.
After the dance, they walked off the floor.
“So long,” he said.
He felt like dancing with her again, but hell, she was easy meat. Maybe he’d get something better. If not, he could always try her again.
“Hello, Studs, Hydrox. How you Ben Turpin?” Noel Morton said.
“Oh, hello,” said Studs, looking up at Noel, who was about six foot one, and loose-jointed. His baboonish, loose lips broke into an unassuming and friendly smile. Studs looked his outfit over and kidded him because his suit coat hung so low that most fellows could have worn it for a top-coat.
“Gee, I never expected to see you here.”
“I thought I’d see what the place looks like.”
“Well. how you like us? Think we’re swell people?”
“Half of the broads here look like jail bait.”
“They are. But sometimes, when they’re young, they’re sweet.”
“Yeah, and it’s sweeter too, laying in a can after you make ‘em,” said Studs.
“He who hesitates is lost, as I said to my old boy friend, Jess Dempsey,” said Noel, dashing off.
“Hello, Studs.