The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [230]
“Patrick, don’t talk like that, please.”
“Goddamn those niggers!” Lonigan exploded.
“I guess it was the Jew real-estate dealers who did it,” said Studs, believing that he ought to say something.
“Mary, remember that Sunday, a long time ago, when we came out here in a buggy I rented, and drove around. It was nearly all trees and woods out here then, and there wasn’t many people here,” the old man said.
“Yes, Patrick, but now are you positively certain that you’re not leaving anything behind?” Mrs. Lonigan said.
“Nothing, Mother! And remember when we bought the building over on Wabash. That was before you were born, Bill.”
Studs walked over to the window. He saw two nigger kids twisted together, wrestling in the street. They went down squirmingly. He remembered how, coming home from St. Patrick’s every night, they used to wrestle and rough-house like that, and Lucy and the girls, not meaning what they said, would call them roughnecks, and then they would go at it all the harder. Funny to think that was all gone, and here he was twenty-six, actually twenty-six, and next fall, he’d be twenty-seven. He lit a cigarette.
“Out there there’ll only be about ten buildings in our block, the rest’s all prairie,” Lonigan said.
“It’ll be nice, though,” the mother absent-mindedly ex-claimed.
“Mary, you know it’s not like it used to be. We’re not what we used to be, and it’ll be lonesome there sometimes.”
“It’s a shame. This was such a beautiful neighborhood. And such nice people. A shame,” Mrs. Lonigan said.
“Well, there’ll be nice people out there south, too,” said Lonigan.
“I wish they’d hurry up,” Fran said nervously, as she joined them.
“They ought to be here any minute now. The movers said they would be here at seven-thirty. Let’s see now, it’s seven twenty-five, no seven twenty-six,” Lonigan said.
“Well, I wish they’d come. Ooooh, I can’t stand the sight or thought of this place and this neighborhood any more. Oooh, to think of all those greasy, dirty niggers around. Every time I pass them on the street, I shudder,” Fran said.
“Yeah, they look like apes, and, God, you can smell them a mile away,” said Lonigan.
“Dad, they’re coming in here, aren’t they?” said Studs.
“Yeah, a shine offered the highest price for the building, so I let it go. But he paid, the black skunk.”
“And this is such a beautiful building,” Mrs. Lonigan said.
“Well, they can have it, only I hate to see how this building and the neighborhood will look in six more months,” said Lonigan.
“Yeah, I guess the damn niggers are dirty,” said Studs.
“I know it. Did you ever look out of the window of the elevated train when you go downtown and see what kind of places they live in? God Almighty, such dirt and filth,” said Lonigan.
“Sometimes, I almost think that niggers haven’t got a soul,” said Mrs. Lonigan.
“There’s quite a few were in church last Sunday,” Lonigan said.
“Yes, and coming out, did you see how they were trying to talk to Father Gilhooley, and he trying to edge aside from them. Poor man, he’s heartbroken, simply heartbroken,” said Mrs. Lonigan.
“Well, well, well! How’s the little fairy queen? Is she ready to move too?” Lonigan said. Loretta smiled back at her dad.
“Dad, Phil is going to come over and help us move,” she said.
“Now, that’s fine of him. You know he’s Jewish, and I always made it a point to never trust a Jew, but I finally am convinced that he’s one white Jew, if there ever was one. And accepting the faith, well, I suppose we oughtn’t to call him a Jew any more. He’s on our side of the fence,” said Lonigan.
Loretta smiled.
“He’s a fine boy. He’s got manners, and he was willing to be an usher in the church,” said Mrs. Lonigan, looking at Studs.
“Yes, Father Gilhooley, I guess, is proud he’s made a convert,” said Lonigan.
“And he is so polite and thoughtful. Every time I come into the parlor when he’s here, I notice that he stands up. And before he smokes in my presence, he asks my permission. I think he is a fine boy,” said Mrs. Lonigan.
“Well, it’s seven twenty-nine, they ought to be here,” said Lonigan.
“Martin, now you