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night is particularly spirited。 Callahan is tolerant of rannygazoo； he maintains that a bar should be 〃merry〃； so long as no bones are broken unintentionally。 I mind the time he helped Spud Flynn set fire to a seat cushion to settle a bet on which way the draft was ing。 Callahan exudes； at all times； 'a kind of monolithic calm； and u。s。 40 is shorter than his temper。
This night I'm telling you about； for instance； was nothing if not merry。 When I pulled in around ten o'clock； there was an unholy shambles of a square dance going on in the middle of the floor。 I laid a dollar on the bar； collected a glass of Tullamore Dew and a hello … grin from Callahan； and settled back in a tall chair … Callahan abhors barstools … to observe the goings … on。 That's what I mean about Callahan's Place： most bars； men only dance if there're ladies around。 Of one sex or another。
I picked some familiar faces out of the maelstrom of madmen weaving and lurching over honest … to … God sawdust； and waved a few greetings。 There was Tom Flannery； who at that time had eight months to live； and knew it； he laughed a lot at Callahan's Place。 There was Slippery Joe Maser； who had two wives； and Marty Matthias； who didn't gamble any more； and Noah Gonzalez； who worked on Suffolk County's bomb squad。 Calling for the square dance while performing a creditable Irish jig was Doc Webster； fat and jovial as the day he pumped the pills out of my stomach and ordered me to Callahan's。 See； I used to have a wife and daughter before I decided to install my own brakes。 I saved thirty dollars； easy。。。
The Doc left the square … dancers to their fate … their creative individuality making a caller superfluous … and drifted over like a pink zeppelin to say Hello。 His stethoscope hung unnoticed from his ears； framing a smile like a sunlamp。 The end of the 'scope was in his drink。
〃Howdy； Doc。 Always wondered how you kept that damned thing so cold；〃 I greeted him。
He blinked like an owl with the staggers and looked down at the gently bubbling pickup beneath two fingers of scotch。 Emitting a bellow of laughter at about force eight； he removed the gleaming think and shook it experimentally。
〃My secret's out； Jake。 Keep it under your hat； will you？〃 he boomed。
〃Maybe you better keep it under yours；〃 I suggested。 He appeared to consider this idea for a time； while I speculated on one of life's greatest paradoxes： Sam Webster； M。D。 The Doc is good for a couple of quarts of Peter Dawson a night； three or four nights a week。 But you won't find a better sawbones anywhere on Earth； and those sausage fingers of his can move like a tap … dancing centipede when they have to； with nary a tremor。 Ask Shorty Steinitz to tell you about the time Doc Webster took out his appendix on top of Callahan's bar。。。 while Callahan calmly kept the Scotch ing。
〃At least then I could hear myself think；〃 the Doc finally replied； and several people seated within earshot groaned theatrically。
〃Have a heart； Doc；〃 one called out。
〃What a re … pulse … ive idea；〃 the Doc returned the serve。
〃Well； I know when I'm beat；〃 said the challenger； and made as if to turn away。
〃Why； you young whelp； aorta poke you one；〃 roared the Doc； and the bar exploded with laughter and cheers。 Callahan picked up a beer bottle in his huge hand and pegged it across the bar at the Doc's round skull。 The beer bottle； being made of foam rubber； bounced gracefully into the air and landed in the piano； where Fast Eddie sat locked in mortal bat with the 〃C … Jam Blues。〃
Fast Eddie emitted a sound like an outraged transmission and kept right on playing； though his upper register was shot。 〃Little beer never hoit a piano；〃 he sang out as he reached the bridge； and went over it like he figured to burn it behind him。
All in all it looked like a cheerful night； but then I saw the Janssen kid e in and I knew there was a trouble brewing。
This Janssen kid … look； I can't knock long hair； I wore mine long when it wasn't fashionable。 And I can't knock pot for the same reason。 But nobody I know ever had a good thing to say for heroin。 Certainly not Joe Hennessy； who did two weeks in the hospital last year after he surprised the Janssen kid scooping junk … money out of his safe at four in the morning。 Old Man Janssen paid Hennessy back every dime and disowned the kid； and he'd been in and out of sight ever since。 Word was he was still using the stuff； but the cops never seemed to catch him holding。 They sure did try； though。 I wondered what the hell he was doing in Callahan's Place。
I should know better by now。 He placed a tattered bill on the bar； took the shot of bourbon which Callahan handed him silently； and walked to the chalk line。 He was quivering with repressed tension； and his boots squeaked on the sawdust。 The place quieted down some； and his toast … 〃To smack！〃 … rang out clear and crisp。 Then he downed the shot amid an expanding silence and flung his glass so hard you could hear his shoulder crack just before the glass shattered on unyielding brick。
Having created silence； he broke it。 With a sob。 Even as he let it out he glared around to see what our reactions were。
Callahan's was immediate； an 〃Amen！〃 that sounded like an echo of the … smashing glass。 The kid made a face like he was somehow satisfied in spite of himself； and looked at the rest of us。 His gaze rested on Doc Webster； and the Doc drifted over and gently began rolling up the kid's sleeves。 The boy made no effort to help or hinder him。 When they were both rolled to the shoulder … phosporescent purple I think they were … he silently held out his arms； palm … up。
They were absolutely unmarked。 Skinny as hell and white as a piece of paper； but unmarked。 The kid was clean。
Everyone waited in silence； giving the kid their respectful attention。 It was a new feeling to him； and he didn't quite know how to handle it。 Finally he said； 〃I heard about this place；〃 just a little too truculently。
〃Then you must of needed to；〃 Callahan told him quietly； and the kid nodded slowly。
〃I hear you get some answers in； from time to time；〃 he half … asked。
〃Now and again；〃 Callahan admitted。 〃Some o' the damndest questions； too。 What's it like； for instance？〃
〃You mean smack？〃
〃I don't mean bourbon。〃
The kid's eyes got a funny； far … away look； and he almost smiled。 〃It's。。。〃 He paused； considering。 〃It's like。。。 being dead。〃
〃Whooee！〃 came a voice from across the room。 〃That's a powerful good feeling indeed。〃 I looked and saw it was Chuck Samms talking； and watched to see how the kid would take it。
He thought Chuck was being sarcastic and snapped back； 〃Well； what the hell do you know about it anyway？〃 Chuck smiled。 A lot of people ask him that question； in a different tone of voice。
〃Me？〃 he said； enjoying himself hugely。 〃Why； I've been dead is all。〃
〃S'truth；〃 Callahan confirmed as the kid's jaw dropped。 〃Chuck there was legally dead for five minutes before the Chuck got his pacemaker going again。 The crumb died owing me money； and I never had the heart to dun his widow。〃
〃Sure was a nice feeling； too；〃 Chuck said around a yawn。 〃More peaceful t