Boy's Cinema (1939-40)

Every Tuesday Tommy O'Meara took ftiis brother's place at a reformatory in the hope that the brother would go straight. But he was imixed up with a gang that made liim stay crooked. A thrilling story of the underworld of youth, iivith Frankie Darro as Tommy. , AT HEARN'S PLACE THE part of New York, where Tommy lived had been famous once. It was 'known as the Lower East Side, and right next to it was the Bowery. The Bowery! V At the time when Tommy's father had (lived there, only the toughest were safe. It was rather like the Seven Dials district ,of London used to be, or the dock, area 'of Marseilles. ( People who were wise went about in twos after dark—and maybe even in day- light as well. Thugs roamed the streets, life preservers hidden in their sleeves, and '..would knock anyone on the head for the price of a pint of beer. ' The crookedness of the Bowery was no longer as open as that now. Crime in the streets had vanished, and instead crime behind locked doors and shuttered win- dows held sway. Wiiich was an improvement in a way. An innocent passer-by was now safe—he didn't get into trouble unless he went looking for it. But if he did go looking for it. he could always find as much as he wanted. Fortunately Tommy wasn't interested in trouble of that kind. So he kept to the open streets. Tliey were noisy enough. Barrows lined the kerbs, their owners trying to shout each other down in the effort to sell their wares. Motor sirens screeched to clear a path through the careless crowds. And now and then a police car or an ambulance whined out its warning for people to scatter. To Tommy all this was old stuff. He wasn't really interested in it because he had been born amidst such surroundings, and had lived amidst them for very nearly seventeen years. Now. as he pushed his way through the crush of buyers and sellers, hands deep in his trousers pockets, he gave a hint of his ancestry by singing a song that, in days gone by, had led his forefathers into fi'equent battle. It was "The Wearing of the Green." He managed to finish a verse just as he got home. He bounded up the rickety stairs and pushed open the door. " Hallo, mom!" he called out. His mother, Mrs. O'Meara, had a neigh- bour with her. At that moment they were both standing back admiring a new cushion cover that Mrs. O'Meara had just finished making. "It's sure grand," remarked the neigh- bour, a Mrs. Callahan. "Where did you get it?" asked Tommy. "Have yon won the Irish Sweep or some- thing?" Mrs. O'Meara laughed. "Wouldn't you be recognising it then?" she answered. "It's that piece of stuff you found on the city dump—washed and made up by my own fair hands." Mrs. Callahan moved towards the door. "Well. I must be going, Mrs. O'Meara." she said. " Good-day to ye. Tommy." "I'll come with ye to the corner," said Mrs. O'Meara. "I have to get some onions. Tommy, you might turn down the oven a mite, will ye?" Tommy did so, then went into the bed- room he shared with his elder brother Eddie. Eddie wasn't in, but that was nothing new. Eddie seldom was. He took an apple from his pocket and began eating it, at the same time tidying himself up a bit. When he returned to the living room, Mrs. O'Meara had come back. BOY'S CINEMA "There you go!" she said. "Spoiling your appetite." Tommy grinned and held the apple out. "I've saved the best side for you, mom." he said, and his grin widened wheii he saw his mother smile. He could always get round her when he wanted to. "Say, isn't Eddie home yet?" "He is not," Mrs. O'Meara answered, and a tiny frown appeared on her fore- head. It was a frown of worry. "I can't understand what's keeping him. On his birthday an' all!" Tommy dived his hand into his pocket again and pulled out a paper-covered packet. He took the paper off. to disclose a somewhat rumpled tie. "I got this as a present for him," he said. Mrs. O'Meara looked up from the oven, and nodded briskly. " Tis a good colour for a boy's tie," she said. "Gravy colour! It won't show the dirt." "It's a double duty tie too." said Tommy. " It goes with all my shirts." "H'm!" remarked Mrs. O'Meara. She wondered how Eddie was going to like the idea. He hated sharing anything with anybody, even Tommy. For a third time, Tommy put his hand into his pocket. This time he produced a few dollar bills. "And there's the pay roll," he announced. " And I think there's going to be more next week. The boss says he's going to give me a milk round all to myself starting Monday, and that's going to mean a raise." Mrs. O'Meara began to look worried again. She took the money and held it in her hand uncertainly. "I'm glad to hear it. Tommy." she said. "But—well, son, you've got to keep the raise for yourself. You're doing more than your share already." Tommy sighed noisily. "Do we have to talk about this?" he wanted to know. "With Eddie out of a job, thing's aren't too easy." Mrs. O'Meara shook her head doubtfully. She knew that Tommy wanted that extra money pretty badly. His clothes were getting mighty bad, and there were some night classes he wanted to go to. He couldn't very well join a night school if he ■wasn't looking decent. It would make him feel bad amongst all the other boys. "I reckon Eddie will soon get another job now." she said after a few moments. "Then everything is going to be all right again." She went back to the cooking stove and opened the oven door. "I wonder what's Keeping him," she said. Tommy did some quick thinking. He knew exactlv where Eddie was. but he didn't intend to . tell Mrs. O'Meara. Casually he strolled towards the door. "He won't be back for a few minutes. I guess," he said. "So I'll just go down tc the corner. I won't be long." And before Mrs. O'Meara could say any- thing more he went out to the street. It was just beginning to get dark, and lamps were appearing on the stalls. In spite of the noise and dirt, Lower East Side was beginning to look a pretty good place. It reminded Tommy of pictures he had seen of fairy lights hanging in trees, of a busy market in some foreign land. It showed that he was of Irish blood, being able to think of things like that. He scurried along the sidewalk, and turned into a doorway Overhead swung a cheap electric sign that flashed in and out every few seconds. The sign bore the words: Hearn's Place. Inside the windows were covered closely, and powerful lamps hung from the ceiling. Pool tables wei'e spaced equally over the wide floor, and in a corner were some fruit machines. Through a doorway that led to another room could be seen a bar covered with bottles of bad hooch. Two young fellows were playing at one of the tables. One of them, a tough called Spike, was watching his opponent make a shot. The balls clicked, then Spike said: "Hard luck, Eddie! Hallo, Tommy!" "Hallo!" Tommy responded, not very cordially. "Hey. Eddie, come over here a minute. I want to talk to you." Eddie came over. He was a little taller, than Tommy, otherwise the two boys were remarkably alike. They both had the same dark hair and dark grey eye^. "What's eating you?" Eddie wanted to kaow. October 23th, 1939