Бетти Смит - Maggie-Now

Biddy was sure in her mind that Patsy Moore had raped a servant girl and gotten her in the family way. The Missus was sure he'd stolen a bag of phoney because it would be Christmas soon and he wanted to buy presents for everyone.

Moriarity had it figured out. The big cop was a stool pigeon sent by the reform candidate who hoped to be elected in November. The cop was taking Patsy away so that the higher-ups of the reform party could force him to inform on the activities of him, Michael Moriaritv.

Only Mary felt the truth. He has had news that grieved hill', she thought.

~9 CH~IP7ER EIGHT A Lo-rrl1 made up a little party for Patsy. She sent Big Red out to the delicatessen for smoked whitefish, slabs of creamy, smoked sturgeon and wedges of smoked eel. She gave him instructions to get a dozen bottles of light beer off the ice. (She didn't think it was refined to run down for a pail of draft beer when company came.)

Lottie thoughtfully plied Patsy with food. "Eat," she said.

"It will help you forget your sorrows and troubles."

Big Red asked for permission to soak his feet. He explained that he'd gone to Moriarity's directly from work and hadn't had an opportunity. . His request was graciously granted by wife and guest I)h, I The food was gone, the beer was nearly gone and they had a hard time digging up things to talk about. Big Red thought a little entertainment was in order. He asked Lottie to sing. She demurred, as was proper, and modestly confessed she had never had her voice cultivated. Big Red told her she was too bashful for her own good. He told Patsy that she had a grand voice. She broke down under the coaxing and said she'd sing if Big Red would accompany her on his bugle. He demurred too, because in polite society one must not be too eager to show off one's talent. After the coaxing had gone on too long and Patsy and Lottie were about to take his word for it that he couldn't blow a note, he gave in, rummaged in the clothes closet, and came up with his bugle.

He stood in the middle of the parlor in his bare feet and, after a few false starts, he played a stirring reveille.

After he had gotten all of the neighbors' children out of bed, he tapered off, stood at attention holding his bugle over his heart, while Lottie sang: Oh, the-e-e-yice Neal Is a nice man. .

When her SOIIg was done, he lifted his bugle and played a long-drawn-out taps. Widdy, who had arisen from his cot at reveille, now crawled back after taps. It had been a short day for him. Lottie waited until the boy was sound asleep again before she suggested! they ought to get Widdy up to recite "Hiawatha." Big Red went in and shook him awake.

Widdv stood in the middle of the parlor. He took a short CUt through the coaxing. He w as anxious to get back to bed.

By the shores of Girchee Goomce, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, Stood the u igwam of Nokomis.

Daughter of the moon, Nokomis.

He droned on and on and on in a monotonous singsong.

When he had finished, Patsy clapped in delirious and noisy delight not in praise but in deep gratitude that the interminable droning was at an end. Widdy wanted to go back to bed but Big Red ordered him to wait for the treat of the evening.

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'This you must not miss, me son," he said. He turned to Patsy. Would you now, Pathrick, dance one of your grand old Irish jigs for us?"

Lottie put her hands together and made a sound of ecstasy. Patsy shook his head. Well, that was right to refuse at first; not to seem eager. They understood. He wanted his full share of coaxing.

"Pretty please? " begged Lottie. "With whipped cream on top? "

"I couldn't," said Patsy.

"Don't be like that, boy," said Big Red heartily.

Under the coaxing, Patsy's feet started to tingle. The rotation of the steps raced through his mind. He was about to make the speech of acceptance: I-might-be-a-little-rusty, but-I'II-try, when Widdy had to put in his two cents' worth.

"Hey, Pop! Ain't this the feller you licked that time you went to Ireland, when he was jigging?"

"Oh, Widdy!" moaned Lottie piteously.

"Shut up, son," said Big Red, low and ominously.

"But, Pop!" Widdy made puzzled peaks out of his eyebrows. 'You said! You told me and Mom how you licked the. ."

The back of Big Red's hand, with tufts of red hair on the knuckles, made an arc Ad landed on Widdy's cheek.

The blow sent the kid halfway across the parlor.

"That'll learn you," said Big Red. "You and your Nokomis!"

"It's past his bedtime," said Lottie.

"What s he doing up so late then?" He turned to yell at Widdy. "Get back in bed," he shouted, "where you belong!"

I could kill him, thought Patsy. Him and his ~help!

"I got to go," said Patsy.

"Now," said Big Red, "you know how kids is."

"You can't go," wailed I,ottie. "I was just going to make some strong hot coffee and send Timmy down to see if the baker's is still open and get a crumb cake."

"I'll thank you for me cap and for nothing else," said Patsy.

Lottie, with tears in her eyes, begged him to stay. Big Red assured him that he wouldn't have had it happen for a million dollars but what can NTou do with kids? When they saw that Patsy was not to be moved, Big Red went to the door with him and said the correct fat ewell words: 1 6, 1 "Now that you knot` the way to our house, don't be a stranger."

"May God strike me dead," said Patsy passionately, "if I

ever set foot in this house again!"

"I had enough out of you," said Big Red. "A mistake was made. All right! I apologised. What do I get back? May God strike you dead if you ever. . You listen to me: May I drop dead if I ever let you set foot in this house again!"

"Yeah?" said Patsy.

"Yeah! And another thing: Oncet I crossed the ocean to give you a good licking. This time I just got to cross Newtown Creek to give you more where that first licking came from."

"Yeah? "

"Yeah! "

"Yeah?" repeated Patsy. "Well, listen!" He opened the door and put one foot out. "I'll bury youse all," shouted Patsy. "And enjoy me bowl of pot cheese after the funeral."

Then he ran like hell.

MARY, sitting at her window and waiting for Patsy, saw him come home about one A.M. He had stopped in at the saloon to have a few beers and to brood. He climbed up to his loft and without lighting the lamp threw himself on his cot.

Mary slipped out of the house in her dressing gown and bedroom slippers. She stood at the foot of the ladder leading to the loft. One of the horses whinnied and for a second she was afraid someone would awaken in the house. She waited. No light went on. She called Patsy's name. He didn't answer, pretending not to hear. She climbed up to his room. He lit the lamp. She went to the table and turned the lamp low. He was in a panic.

"Miss Mary, please go," he said. "God help me if your father finds you in me room this late."

"Never mind my father," she said. "Patrick, please tell me all

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about it." He shook his head. "You've had bad news from Ireland." He said nothing. "Is it your mother?" He turned away from her.

"I am your friend, Patrick. Tell your friend your troubles. Don't hold them to yourself. A trouble shared is a trouble halved. Tell me, Patrick. It may help."

He broke down a little and started telling her. He spoke of his boyhood, his mother, Rory-Boy and Maggie Rose.

He told of being whipped by Big Red and how he had sneaked out of Ireland and how his money had been stolen his first day in America. And then he told of his mother's death and Maggie Rose's marriage and the humiliating evening at Big Red's home.