You know, Gene, blue like Virgin Mary blue.” Eugene smiled. He was, indeed, her knight. He had promised, from the very depths of his heart to serve her for the rest of his life. This was how pure his love was for her. He would slay dragons for her love.
“Get up, man!” John Galloway screamed. “I’ve got to run the trolley and I’m late as it is.”
Wistfully, Eugene awoke from his magnificent dream. He struggled to his feet. He was shivering.
Galloway took his arm and guided him into the trolley. Once the heat from the car hit Eugene’s face it knocked him out again. Galloway slapped his face and poured some hot tea from a thermos down his throat.
“Eugene, wake yourself up, man. I’ve got to operate the trolley and keep on schedule.”
Quindlen roused himself and sat up on the seat Galloway had plopped him on. “Are you alive then?” Honest John asked looking at him through the mirror.
“I’m alive,” Eugene managed to say. “I’m sorry, I don’t have
the fare.”
“Forget about the damned fare,” Galloway fumed. “I dropped you off early this morning. You were full of life and determined to do the right thing for your family.
Tonight I picked you up - off the bloody pavement - stinkin’ of the poteen and freezing to death. Now, and slowly, what the hell happened to you?”
Eugene tried to recall. “I walked all day. By the loop I found a tavern with a green door. McNally’s it was, yeah, Hugh and Rose McNally…”
“I worked with Hugh, he was an operator like me.”
“And some guy who called himself Happy, he wore a conductor’s uniform.”
“That’s Harry Coyne - a heavy drinker and a bad poker player.”
“Yeah, I noticed. Anyway I started playing the piano…”
“They have a piano? I didn’t know or I would have told you.”
“Yeah. I mean, Happy told me you wouldn’t have known. He thinks your God or Daniel O’Connell or somebody like that. Anyway, Rose served up
some whiskey…”
REGINA | 97