The Studs Lonigan Trilogy - James T. Farrell [245]
He chuckled to himself thinking how glad he was that he lived in a big city like Chicago.
II
“What’s on your mind, Studs?” Joe Thomas, riding back-ward across the aisle, called over.
“Nothing much. I was just looking out at this Godforsaken country and wondering how the hick farmers around here can even manage to stay awake,” Studs replied, an apologetic strain in his voice.
Joe’s thin and sharply-featured face broke into a buck-toothed smile which annoyed Studs. But when he closed his mouth again, Joe seemed like a guy who had been kicked all over the lot and was, in everything he did, excusing himself for being alive. Poor bastard! Studs recalled how sore he had once gotten because Joe had cleaned him in a game of straight pool, and he was sorry now for that forgotten feeling of a long time ago.
“Taking in the scenery, huh, Studs?” Stan Simonsky said listlessly.
“I hope you don’t call that dreary stuff outside scenery. Now, if you want to talk about some real scenery, take Niagara Falls, where I went on my honeymoon. The way the water pitches down over the cliff! And you know, the spray comes up over a hundred feet where you stand by the railing, and you think it’s raining. Buckingham Fountain they got down in Grand Park looks like a piker alongside of it. That’s scenery and the glories of nature, and not these hoosier mole hills they got around here,” Muggsy said with mounting enthusiasm.
“McCarthy, you’d go over big on a rubber-neck bus,” Stan said.
“Monk McCarthy is a poet and he don’t know it,” Studs said.
“Studs may be kidding you, boys, but not me. He’s been mooning over that Jane of his,” Red said.
“I was just looking out the window,” Studs said, flushing guiltily.
“Well, fellows, say what you will, here’s something that’s got cards and spades on the joys of nature, and the joys of love also,” red-faced Les exclaimed, looking at Joe Thomas opposite him, and fishing out a partially filled bottle of moon-shine.
“All right, tank, give us break,” Red said as Les drank. Smacking his lips, Les handed the bottle to Joe.
“With mud in your eye, Irish!” Joe said, drinking.
Joe passed the bottle over to Red, and wiped his lips with a shiny blue coat sleeve. Watching Red drink, Muggsy exaggerated his impatience. Studs lit a cigarette while the bottle moved to McCarthy.
“Still smoking a lot, huh, Studs?” Red said, as if delivering a mild reprimand.
“I’ve cut down a lot,” Studs said, Muggsy distracting his attention by taking a drink as if he were putting on a vaudeville act.
Muggsy handed the bottle to Studs.
“I’m on the wagon these days,” Studs said with a note of piety in his voice.
“Not a lot here,” Stan said, eyeing the bottle he had taken from McCarthy.
“Kill it, Stan. That’s always an act of merit,” Les said.
While Stan drained the bottle, Kelly glanced self-assuredly at Studs.
“Studs, you know, ever since you got the attack of pneumonia after our New Year’s Eve reunion, you haven’t looked like your old self. I’m saying this as a friend and warning you that you better watch yourself, and watch the smoking, too. A number of our pals have passed away in their prime because they didn’t take care of themselves. Shrimp and his brother Paulie, and Tommy Doyle. Tommy Doyle was as healthy as any one of us here, and he just ruined his heart carousing. I think it ought to be a lesson to us.”
“I do watch myself, Red,” Studs replied defensively.
He guessed that Red was showing off and if he didn’t watch himself with the way his head was swelling up, it would break open. His face, too, was all puffed out like a balloon, his alderman stuck out in front of him and he didn’t look at all like the old Red. He was getting to look and act like a politician, all right. But he was getting along. The camel’s hair coat he had folded over the seat hadn’t been picked up at no fire sale.
He noticed Stan, medium-sized, chubby, dark, his face no longer pimply as it used to be. His clothes were old, the coat sleeves frayed, and Studs knew that he had come to the funeral at Red’s expense. Poor bastard, he looked down in the mouth and he sure hadn