"It might be Maggie again," said Mrs. Halloran.
"Let her ring, then," said Mr. Halloran, settling back and crossing his legs.
"G.o.d help a man who won"t answer the telephone when his own daughter calls up for a word," commented Mrs. Halloran to the ceiling. "And she in deep trouble, too, with her husband treating her like a dog about the money, and sitting out late nights in saloons with that crowd from the Little Tammany a.s.sociation.
He"s getting into politics now with the McCorkery gang. No good will come of it, and I told her as much."
"She"s no troubles at all, her man"s a sharp fellow who will get ahead if she"ll let him alone," said Mr. Halloran. "She"s nothing to 389.
complain of, I could tell her. But what"s a father?" Mr. Halloran c.o.c.ked his head toward the window that opened on the brick-paved areaway and crowed like a rooster, "What"s a father these days and who would heed his advice?"
"You needn"t tell the neighbors, there"s disgrace enough already," said Mrs. Halloran. She set the iron back on the gas ring and stepped out to the telephone on the first stair landing. Mr.
Halloran leaned forward, his thin, red-haired hands hanging loosely between his knees, his warm pipe sending up its good decent smell right into his nose. The woman hated the pipe and the smell; she was a woman born to make any man miserable. Before the depression, while he still had a good job and prospects of a raise, before he went on relief, before she took in fancy washing and ironing, in the Good Days Before, G.o.d"s pity, she didn"t ex-acdy keep her mouth shut, there wasn"t a word known to man she couldn"t find an answer for, but she knew which side her bread was b.u.t.tered on, and put up with it. Now she was, you might say, b.u.t.tering her own bread and she never forgot it for a minute. And it"s her own fault we"re not riding round today in a limousine with ash trays and a speaking tube and a cut-gla.s.s vase for flowers in it.
It"s what a man gets for marrying one of these holy women. Gerald McCorkery had told him as much, in the beginning.
"There"s a girl will spend her time holding you down," Gerald had told him. "You"re putting your head in a noose will strangle the life out of you. Heed the advice of one who wishes you well,"
said Gerald McCorkery. This was after he had barely set eyes on Lacey Mahaffy one Sunday morning in Coney Island. It was like McCorkery to see that in a flash, born judge of human nature that he was. He could look a man over, size him up, and there was an end to it. And if the man didn"t pa.s.s muster, McCorkery could ease him out in a way that man would never know how it happened. It was the secret of McCorkery"s success in the world.
"This is Rosie, herself," said Gerald that Sunday in Coney Island. "Meet the future Mrs. Gerald J. McCorkery." Lacey Mahaffy"s narrow face had gone sour as whey under her big straw hat. She barely nodded to Rosie, who gave Mr. Halloran a look that fairly undressed him right there. Mr. Halloran had thought, too, that McCorkery was picking a strange one; she was good-looking all right, but she had the smell of a regular little Fourteenth 390.
A Day"s Work Street hustler if Halloran knew anything about women. "Come on," said McCorkery, his arm around Rosie"s waist, "let"s all go on the roller coaster." But Lacey would not. She said, "No, thank you. We didn"t plan to stay, and we must go now." On the way home Mr. Halloran said, "Lacey, you judge too harshly. Maybe that"s a nice girl at heart; hasn"t had your opportunities." Lacey had turned upon him a face ugly as an angry cat"s, and said, "She"s a loose, low woman, and "twas an insult to introduce her to me." It was a good while before the pretty fresh face that Mr. Halloran had fallen in love with returned to her.
Next day in Billy"s Place, after three drinks each, McCorkery said, "Watch your step, Halloran; think of your future. There"s a straight good girl I don"t doubt, but she"s no sort of mixer. A man getting into politics needs a wife who can meet all kinds. A man needs a woman knows how to loosen her corsets and sit easy."
Mrs. Halloran"s voice was going on in the hall, a steady dry rattle like old newspapers blowing on a park bench. "I told you before it"s no good coming to me with your troubles now. I warned you in time but you wouldn"t listen. ... I told you just how it would be, I tried my best... . No, you couldn"t listen, you always knew better than your mother. ... So now all you"ve got to do is stand by your married vows and make the best of it... . Now listen to me, if you want himself to do right you have to do right first. The woman has to do right first, and then if the man won"t do right in turn it"s no fault of hers. You do right whether he does wrong or no, just because he does wrong is no excuse for you."
"Ah, will you hear that?" Mr. Halloran asked the areaway in an awed voice. "There"s a holy terror of a saint for you."
"... the woman has to do right first, I"m telling you," said Mrs. Halloran into the telephone, "and then if he"s a devil in spite of it, why she has to do right without any help from him." Her voice rose so the neighbors could get an earful if they wanted. "I know you from old, you"re just like your father. You must be doing something wrong yourself or you wouldn"t be in this fix.
You"re doing wrong this minute, calling over the telephone when you ought to be getting your work done. I"ve got an iron on, working over the dirty nightgowns of a kind of woman I wouldn"t soil my foot on if I"d had a man to take care of me. So now you do up 391.
your housework and dress yourself and take a walk in the fresh air... ."
"A little fresh air never hurt anybody," commented Mr. Halloran loudly through the open window. "It"s the gas gets a man down."
"Now listen to me, Maggie, that"s not the way to talk over the public wires. Now you stop that crying and go and do your duty and don"t be worrying me any more. And stop saying you"re going to leave your husband, because where will you go, for one thing?
Do you want to walk the streets or set up a laundry in your kitchen? You can"t come back here, you"ll stay with your husband where you belong. Don"t be a fool, Maggie. You"ve got your living, and that"s more than many a woman better than you has got. Yes, your father"s all right. No, he"s just sitting here, the same. G.o.d knows what"s to become of us. But you know how he is, little he cares... . Now remember this, Maggie, if anything goes wrong with your married life it"s your own fault and you needn"t come here for sympathy. ... I can"t waste any more time on it. Good-by." Mr. Halloran, his ears standing up for fear of missing a word, thought how Gerald J. McCorkery had gone straight on up the ladder with Rosie; and for every step the McCorkerys took upward, he, Michael Halloran, had taken a step downward with Lacey Mahaffy. They had started as greenhorns with the same chances at the same time and the same friends, but McCorkery had seized all his opportunities as they came, getting in steadily with the Big Shots in ward politics, one good thing leading to another. Rosie had known how to back him up and push him onward. The McCorkerys for years had invited him and Lacey to come over to the house and be sociable with the crowd, but Lacey would not.
"You can"t run with that fast set and drink and stay out nights and hold your job," said Lacey, "and you should know better than to ask your wife to a.s.sociate with that woman." Mr. Halloran had got into the habit of dropping around by himself, now and again, for McCorkery still liked him, was still willing to give him a foothold in the right places, still asked him for favors at election time.
There was always a good lively crowd at the McCorkerys, wherever they were; for they moved ever so often to a better place, 392.
A Day"s Work with more furniture. Rosie helped hand around the drinks, taking a few herself with a good word for everybody. The player piano or the victrola would be going full blast, with everybody dancing, all looking like ready money and a bright future. He would get home late these evenings, back to the same little cold-water walk-up flat, because Lacey would not spend a dollar for show. It must all go into savings against old age, she said. He would be full of good food and drink, and find Lacey, in a bungalow ap.r.o.n, warming up the fried potatoes once more, cross and bitterly silent, hanging her head and frowning at the smell of liquor on his breath. "You might at least eat the potatoes when I"ve fried them and waited all this time," she would say. "Ah, eat them yourself, they"re none of mine," he would snarl in his disappointment with her, and with the life she was leading him.
He had believed with all his heart for years that he would one day be manager of one of the G. and I. chain grocery stores he worked for, and when that hope gave out there was still his pension when they retired him. But two years before it was due they fired him, on account of the depression, they said. Overnight he was on the sidewalk, with no place to go with the news but home.
"Jesus," said Mr. Halloran, still remembering that day after nearly seven years of idleness.
The depression hadn"t touched McCorkery. He went on and on up the ladder, giving beefsteaks and beanfests and beer parties for the boys in Billy"s Place, standing in with the right men and never missing a trick. At last the Gerald J. McCorkery Club chartered a whole boat for a big excursion up the river. It was a great day, with Lacey sitting at home sulking. After election Rosie had her picture in the papers, smiling at McCorkery; not fat exactly, just a fine figure of a woman with flowers pinned on her spotted fur coat, her teeth as good as ever. Oh, G.o.d, there was a girl for any man"s money. Mr. Halloran saw out of his eye-corner the bony stooped back of Lacey Mahaffy, standing on one foot to rest the other like a tired old horse, leaning on her hands waiting for the iron to heat.
"That was Maggie, with her woes," she said.
"I hope you gave her some good advice," said Mr. Halloran. "I hope you told her to take up her hat and walk out on him."
Mrs. Halloran suspended the iron over a pair of pink satin panties. "I told her to do right and leave wrong-doing to the men," she 393.
said, in her voice like a phonograph record running down. "I told her to bear with the trouble G.o.d sends as her mother did before her."
Mr. Halloran gave a loud groan and knocked out his pipe on the chair arm. "You would ruin the world, woman, if you could, with your wicked soul, treating a new-married girl as if she had no home and no parents to come to. But she"s no daughter of mine if she sits there peeling potatoes, letdng a man run over her. No daughter of mine and I"ll tell her so if she-"
"You know well she"s your daughter, so hold your tongue," said Mrs. Halloran, "and if she heeded you she"d be walking the streets this minute. I brought her up an honest girl, and an honest woman she"s going to be or I"ll take her over my knee as I did when she was little. So there you are, Halloran."
Mr. Halloran leaned far back in his chair and felt along the shelf above his head until his fingers touched a half-dollar he had noticed there. His hand closed over it, he got up instantly and looked about for his hat.
"Keep your daughter, Lacey Mahaffy," he said, "she"s none of mine but the fruits of your long sinning with the Holy Ghost. And now I"m off for a little round and a couple of beers to keep my mind from dissolving entirely."
"You can"t have that dollar you just now sneaked off the shelf,"
said Mrs. Halloran. "So you think I"m blind besides? Put it back where you found it. That"s for our daily bread."
"I"m sick of bread daily," said Mr. Halloran, "I need beer. It was not a dollar, but a half-dollar as you know well."
"Whatever it was," said Mrs. Halloran, "it stands instead of a dollar to me. So just drop it."
"You"ve got tomorrow"s potatoes sewed up in your pocket this minute, and G.o.d knows what sums in that black box wherever you hide it, besides the life savings," said Mr. Halloran. "I earned this half-dollar on relief, and it"s going to be spent properly. And I"ll not be back for supper, so you"ll save on that, too. So long, Lacey Mahaffy, I"m off."
"If you never come back, it will be all the same," said Mrs.
Halloran, not looking up.
"If I came back with a pocket full of money, you"d be glad to see me," said Mr. Halloran.
394.
A Day"s Work "It would want to be a great sum," said Mrs. Halloran.
Mr. Halloran shut the door behind him with a fine slam.
He strolled out into the clear fall weather, a late afternoon sun warming his neck and brightening the old red-brick, high-stooped houses of Perry Street. He would go after all these years to Billy"s Place, he might find some luck there. He took his time, though, speaking to the neighbors as he went. "Good afternoon, Mr. Halloran." "Good afternoon to you, Missis Caffery." ... "It"s fine weather for the time of year, Mr. Gogarty." "It is indeed, Mr.
Halloran." Mr. Halloran thrived on these civilities, he loved to flourish his hat and give a hearty good day like a man who has nothing on his mind. Ah, there was the young man from the G.
and I. store around the corner. He knew what kind of job Mr.
Halloran once held there. "Good day, Mr. Halloran." "Good day to you, Mr. Mclnerny, how"s business holding up with you?"
"Good for the times, Mr. Halloran, that"s the best I can say."
"Things are not getting any better, Mr. Mclnerny." "It"s the truth we are all hanging on by the teeth now, Mr. Halloran."
Soothed by this acknowledgment of man"s common misfortune Mr. Halloran greeted the young cop at the corner. The cop, with his quick eyesight, was s.n.a.t.c.hing a read from a newspaper on the stand across the sidewalk. "How do you do, Young O"Fallon,"
asked Mr. Halloran, "is your business lively these days?"
"Quiet as the tomb itself on this block," said Young O"Fallon.
"But that"s a sad thing about Connolly, now." His eyes motioned toward the newspaper.
"Is he dead?" asked Mr. Halloran; "I haven"t been out until now, I didn"t see the papers."
"Ah, not yet," said Young O"Fallon, "but the G-men are after him, it looks they"ll get him surely this time."
"Connolly in bad with the G-men? Holy Jesus," said Mr. Halloran, "who will they go after next? The meddlers."
"It"s that numbers racket," said the cop. "What"s the harm, I"d like to know? A man must get his money from somewhere when he"s in politics. They oughta give him a chance."
"Connolly"s a great fellow, G.o.d bless him, I hope he gives them the slip," said Mr. Halloran, "I hope he goes right through their hands like a greased pig."
395.
"He"s smart," said the cop. "That Connolly"s a smooth one.
He"ll come out of it."
Ah, will he though? Mr. Halloran asked himself. Who is safe if Connolly goes under? Wait till I give Lacey Mahaffy the news about Connolly, I"ll like seeing her face the first time in twenty years. Lacey kept saying, "A man is a downright fool must be a crook to get rich. Plenty of the best people get rich and do no harm by it. Look at the Connollys now, good practical Catholics with nine children and more to come if G.o.d sends them, and Ma.s.s every day, and they"re rolling in wealth richer than your McCorkerys with all their wickedness." So there you are, Lacey Mahaffy, wrong again, and welcome to your pious Connollys. Still and all it was Connolly who had given Gerald McCorkery his start in the world; McCorkery had been publicity man and then campaign manager for Connolly, in the days when Connolly had Tammany in the palm of his hand and the sky was the limit. And McCorkery had begun at the beginning, G.o.d knows. He was running a little bas.e.m.e.nt place first, rent almost nothing, where the boys of the Connolly Club and the Little Tammany a.s.sociation, just the mere fringe of the district, you might say, could drop in for quiet evenings for a game and a drink along with the talk. Nothing low, nothing but what was customary, with the house taking a cut on the winnings and a fine profit on the liquor, and holding the crowd together. Many was the big plan hatched there came out well for everybody. For everybody but myself, and why was that? And when McCorkery says to me, "You can take over now and run the place for the McCorkery Club," ah, there was my chance and Lacey Mahaffy wouldn"t hear of it, and with Maggie coming on just then it wouldn"t do to excite her.
Mr. Halloran went on, following his feet that knew the way to Billy"s Place, head down, not speaking to pa.s.sersby any more, but talking it out with himself again, again. What a track to go over seeing clearly one by one the crossroads where he might have taken a different turn that would have changed all his fortunes; but no, he had gone the other way and now it was too late. She wouldn"t say a thing but "It"s not right and you know it, Halloran,"
so what could a man do in all? Ah, you could have gone on with your rightful affairs like any other man, Halloran, it"s not the woman"s place to decide such things; she"d have come round once 396.
A Day"s Work she saw the money, or a good whack on the backsides would have put her in her place. Never had mortal woman needed a good walloping worse than Lacey Mahaffy, but he could never find it in his heart to give it to her for her own good. That was just another of your many mistakes, Halloran. But there was always the life-long job with the G. and I. and peace in the house more or less.
Many a man envied me in those days I remember, and I was resting easy on the savings and knowing with that and the pension I could finish out my life with some little business of my own. "What came of that?" Mr. Halloran inquired in a low voice, looking around him. n.o.body answered. You know well what came of it, Halloran. You were fired out like a delivery boy, two years before your time was out. Why did you sit there watching the trick being played on others before you, knowing well it could happen to you and never quite believing what you saw with your own eyes? G.
and I. gave me my start, when I was green in this country, and they were my own kind or I thought so. Well, it"s done now. Yes, it"s done now, but there was all the years you could have cashed in on the numbers game with the best of them, helping collect the protection money and taking your cut. You could have had a fortune by now in Lacey"s name, safe in the bank. It was good quiet profit and none the wiser. But they"re wiser now, Halloran, don"t forget; still it"s a lump of grief and disappointment to swallow all the same. The game"s up with Connolly, maybe; Lacey Mahaffy had said, "Numbers is just another way of stealing from the poor, and you weren"t born to be a thief like that McCorkery." Ah, G.o.d, no, Halloran, you were born to rot on relief and maybe that"s honest enough for her. That Lacey- A fortune in her name would have been no good to me whatever. She"s got all the savings tied up, such as they are, she"ll pinch and she"ll starve, she"ll wash dirty clothes first, she won"t give up a penny to live on. She has stood in my way, McCorkery, like a skeleton rattling its bones, and you were right about her, she has been my ruin. "Ah, it"s not too late yet, Halloran," said McCorkery, appearing plain as day inside Mr. Halloran"s head with the same old face and way with him.
"Never say die, Halloran. Elections are coming on again, it"s a busy time for all, there"s work to be done and you"re the very man I"m looking for. Why didn"t you come to me sooner, you know I never forget an old friend. You don"t deserve your ill fortune, 397.
Halloran," McCorkery told him; "I said so to others and I say it now to your face, never did man deserve more of the world than you, Halloran, but the truth is, there"s not always enough good luck to go round; but it"s your turn now, and I"ve got a job for you up to your abilities at last. For a man like you, there"s nothing to it at all, you can toss it off with one hand tied, Halloran, and good money in it. Organization work, just among your own neighbors, where you"re known and respected for a man of your word and an old friend of Gerald McCorkery. Now look, Halloran," said Gerald McCorkery, tipping him the wink, "do I need to say more? It"s voters in large numbers we"re after, Halloran, and you"re to bring them in, alive or dead. Keep your eye on the situation at all times and get in touch with me when necessary. And name your figure in the way of money. And come up to the house sometimes, Halloran, why don"t you? Rosie has asked me a hundred times, "Whatever went with Halloran, the life of the party?" That"s the way you stand with Rosie, Halloran. We"re in a two-story flat now with green velvet curtains and carpets you can sink to your shoe-tops in, and there"s no reason at all why you shouldn"t have the same kind of place if you want it. With your gifts, you were never meant to be a poor man."
Ah, but Lacey Mahaffy wouldn"t have it, maybe. "Then get yourself another sort of woman, Halloran, you"re a good man still, find yourself a woman like Rosie to snuggle down with at night."
Yes, but McCorkery, you forget that Lacey Mahaffy had legs and hair and eyes and a complexion fit for a chorus girl. But would she do anything with them? Never. Would you believe there was a woman wouldn"t take off all her clothes at once even to bathe herself? What a hateful thing she was with her evil mind thinking everything was a sin, and never giving a man a chance to show himself a man in any way. But she"s faded away now, her mean soul shows out all over her, she"s ugly as sin itself now, McCorkery. "It"s what I told you would happen," said McCorkery, "but now with the job and the money you can go your ways and let Lacey Mahaffy go hers." I"ll do it, McCorkery. "And forget about Connolly. Just remember I"m my own man and always was.
Connolly"s finished, but I"m not. Stronger than ever, Halloran, with Connolly out of the way. I saw this coming long ever ago, Halloran, I got clear of it. They don"t catch McCorkery with his pants 398.
A Day"s Work down, Halloran. And I almost forgot ... Here"s something for the running expenses to start. Take this for the present, and there"s more to come... ."
Mr. Halloran stopped short, a familiar smell floated under his nose: the warm beer-and-beefsteak smell of Billy"s Place, sawdust and onions, like any other bar maybe, but with something of its own besides. The talk within him stopped also as if a hand had been laid on his mind. He drew his fist out of his pocket almost expecting to find green money in it. The half dollar was in his palm. "I"ll stay while it lasts and hope McCorkery will come in."
The moment he stepped inside his eye lighted on McCorkery standing at the bar pouring his own drink from the bottle before him. Billy was mopping the bar before him idly, and his eye, swimming toward Halloran, looked like an oyster in its own juice. McCorkery saw him too. "Well, blow me down," he said, in a voice that had almost lost its old County Mayo ring, "if it ain"t my old sidekick from the G. and I. Step right up, Halloran," he said, his poker-face as good as ever, no man ever saw Gerald McCorkery surprised at anything. "Step up and name your choice."
Mr. Halloran glowed suddenly with the warmth around the heart he always had at the sight of McCorkery, he couldn"t put a name on it, but there was something about the man. Ah, it was Gerald all right, the same, who never forgot a friend and never seemed to care whether a man was rich or poor, with his face of granite and his eyes like blue agates in his head, a rock of a man surely. There he was, saying "Step right up," as if they had parted only yesterday; portly and solid in his expensive-looking clothes, as always; his hat a darker gray than his suit, with a devil-may-care roll to the brim, but nothing sporting, mind you. All first-rate, well made, and the right thing for him, more power to him. Mr. Halloran said, "Ah, McCorkery, you"re the one man on this round earth I hoped to see today, but I says to myself, maybe he doesn"t come round to Billy"s Place so much nowadays."
"And why not?" asked McCorkery, "I"ve been coming around to Billy"s Place for twenty-five years now, it"s still headquarters for the old guard of the McCorkery Club, Halloran." He took in Mr.
Halloran from head to foot in a flash of a glance and turned toward the bottle.
"I was going to have a beer," said Mr. Halloran, "but the smell 399.
of that whiskey changes my mind for me." McCorkery poured a second gla.s.s, they lifted the drinks with an identical crook of the elbow, a flick of the wrist at each other.
"Here"s to crime," said McCorkery, and "Here"s looking at you," said Mr. Halloran, merrily. Ah, to h.e.l.l with it, he was back where he belonged, in good company. He put his foot on the rail and snapped down his whiskey, and no sooner was his gla.s.s on the bar than McCorkery was filling it again. "Just time for a few quick ones," he said, "before the boys get here." Mr. Halloran downed that one, too, before he noticed that McCorkery hadn"t filled his own gla.s.s. "I"m ahead of you," said McCorkery, "I"ll skip this one."
There was a short pause, a silence fell around them that seemed to ooze like a fog from somewhere deep in McCorkery, it was suddenly as if he had not really been there at all, or hadn"t uttered a word. Then he said outright: "Well, Halloran, let"s have it.
What"s on your mind?" And he poured two more drinks. That was McCorkery all over, reading your thoughts and coming straight to the point.
Mr. Halloran closed his hand round his gla.s.s and peered into the little pool of whiskey. "Maybe we could sit down," he said, feeling weak-kneed all at once. McCorkery took the bottle and moved over to the nearest table. He sat facing the door, his look straying there now and then, but he had a set, listening face as if he was ready to hear anything.
"You know what I"ve had at home all these years," began Mr.
Halloran, solemnly, and paused.
"Oh, G.o.d, yes," said McCorkery with simple good-fellowship.
"How is herself these days?"
"Worse than ever," said Mr. Halloran, "but that"s not it."
"What is it, then, Halloran?" asked McCorkery, pouring drinks.
"You know well you can speak out your mind to me. Is it a loan?"
"No," said Mr. Halloran. "It"s a job."
"Now that"s a different matter," said McCorkery. "What kind of a job?"
Mr. Halloran, his head sunk between his shoulders, saw McCorkery wave a hand and nod at half a dozen men who came in and ranged themselves along the bar. "Some of the boys," said McCorkery. "Go on." His face was tougher, and quieter, as if the 400 400 A Day"s Work drink gave him a firm hold on himself. Mr. Halloran said what he had planned to say, had said already on the way down, and it still sounded reasonable and right to him. McCorkery waited until he had finished, and got up, putting a hand on Mr. Halloran"s shoulder. "Stay where you are, and help yourself," he said, giving the bottle a little push, "and anything else you want, Halloran, order it on me. I"ll be back in a few minutes, and you know I"ll help you out if I can."
Halloran understood everything but it was through a soft warm fog, and he hardly noticed when McCorkery pa.s.sed him again with the men, all in that creepy quiet way like footpads on a dark street.
They went into the back room, the door opened on a bright light and closed again, and Mr. Halloran reached for the bottle to help himself wait until McCorkery should come again bringing the good word. He felt comfortable and easy as if he hadn"t a bone or muscle in him, but his elbow slipped off the table once or twice and he upset his drink on his sleeve. Ah, McCorkery, is it the whole family you"re taking on with the jobs? For my Maggie"s husband is in now with the Little Tammany a.s.sociation. "There"s a bright lad will go far and I"ve got my eye on him, Halloran," said the friendly voice of McCorkery in his mind, and the brown face, softer than he remembered it, came up clearly behind his closed eyes.