Kerrigan didn’t move. “I’m looking for my brother,” he said. “Anyone here seen my brother?”
“The hell with your brother,” Nick said.
“The hell with everybody,” Dora yelled. “The yellow moon may kiss the sky—”
“Will you kindly shut up?” Nick requested. He kept beckoning Kerrigan to take the empty chair.
Kerrigan looked at Mooney. “You seen him?”
Mooney shook his head slowly. His eyes were half closed and he looked drunk. But he was studying Kerrigan’s face and gradually his mouth opened, his eyes widened, and he sat up straight and stiffly. He tried not to take it further than that, but his hands were lifted and then came down hard on the table and a bottle fell off the edge and crashed to the floor. At the table all talk was stopped. The only sound in the room was the squeaky tune coming from behind the bar. Kerrigan looked in that direction and saw Dugan standing with his arms folded, his eyes closed, humming the melody that took him away from Vernon Street.
Moving toward the bar, Kerrigan said, “Hey, Dugan.”
Dugan opened his eyes. The humming slowed down just a little.
“My brother been here?” Kerrigan asked.
Dugan shook his head. Then his eyes were closed again and he picked up the tempo of the tune.