Chapter 67

Still filled with more questions than answers she was comfortable with, Billie accompanied John somewhere outside of town. The car was packed with their few belongings, Clark wandering the backseats nervously. The gang had left the quaint cottage for good, heading into what looked like a ghost town. Amid small and large fields, some overgrown, others actively being farmed, the scenery soon began to blur together. All that was really apparent outside the windows was the fact that this town, or what was once a town, remained relatively lifeless.

There was little John would say about the man they were going to see but Billie had got a general outline the night before.

"Alvin Karpis," John had said, uttering the name with a sigh of distaste. He explained that the media knew him as "Creepy Karpis," a nickname given on behalf of the mans small, dark beady eyes and his tendency for favoring kidnapping. It took a lot to disturb a group of hardened criminals but it appeared as though Alvin Karpis did just that. John didn't go into details about the kidnapping (something that worried Billie greatly for reasons she couldn't quite place). John mentioned that, personally, when conducting business he didn't like to get his hands dirty but ended his short speech on Karpis as saying, "he gets his hands dirty simply for the sport of it."

The next day this explanation did little to ease Billie. She still didn't know what to expect or what exactly they were getting involved with.

In what once might have been the center of town they drove by darkened store fronts, the windows opaque with dust and grime. The old displays had all but collapsed, scattered messily on the ground mixed in with debris upon the floor. They slowed when they came near a dilapidated old building that might once have looked grand. Even though most of the signs had been rusted over and weeds surrounded the doorways it was easy to tell the structure had once been a theater. How anyone knew the whereabouts of this building, let alone welcomed the notion of living inside, disturbed her. Still, she exited the car with John, cradling Clark who was hiding in her coat as they approached the door.

She pondered, briefly, if they could be walking into a trap. Pete and Red walked just ahead of she and John, Billie eased simply by the fact that she wouldn't be the first person to pass the threshold. It smelled heavy of mildew and dust, much like the scent of an old attic, and it was hot. They walked first through a lobby that still held a front desk, the walls lined with tattered posters of shows and acts that once had preformed in the building. There was a beautiful chandelier dangling from the ceiling that still managed to catch the light and glitter despite the fact that there was no electricity.

The adjoining doorway led to the auditorium of the theater. Lines of seats seemed to go on forever upon a slanted floor. Though no longer in proper use, the wide open stage was still the main focus of the room. Billie glanced up and around, taking in the thick dark curtains and wall sconces before noticing a tightly knit group of people taking up one shady corner of the stage. She realized quickly the stage contained pieces of furniture and odd objects pushed together to create a kind of living space. This was not a scene designed for a play but in use as an actual sitting area.

A small radio emitted a melody scratchy with static. There was a low, puffy couch covered with many sheets and blankets, a man and several women sitting entwined together. When Billie pondered what they may have just walked in on she blushed, looking away and back curiously, cautiously. Clark twisted against her hold, Billie wincing as she calmed him and his sharp nails.

John hung back as the others advanced. The man on the stage, clearly Alvin Karpis, untangled himself from the women and rose. Their smoky eyes watched him every step of the way, their darkly painted lips pouting and perhaps sizing up the other women in the room. It looked as though they had not bothered to change from their nightgowns, or maybe that was their regular daytime attire. Billie looked up at John and saw his face was tense, admittedly relieved to notice his eyes were all but avoiding the scene on stage.

Alvin's shoes made a light echo on the wooden floorboards. "Gentlemen!" he dramatically threw his arms wide. "Welcome to my humble abode."

The man wore only an undershirt and trousers, Billie thinking how differently his physique looked compared to John's. Alvin's body was skinny to the point of being scrawny and John was almost all muscle. She leaned in and held on to his arm a little tighter, able to feel those muscles through their layers of clothing.

"Make yourselves comfortable. It's not much, but we have everything you'll need…" his eyes twitched back toward the women and some of them giggled.

Greetings were exchanged, some of the gang climbing on stage to shake hands with Alvin, goofing off almost instantly. Several of them disappeared backstage, into the wings and off through other doorways. Eventually when John and Alvin's eyes met he put off the greeting no longer.

"Al," was all John said with an acknowledging nod of his head.

"Johnnie."

It irked him that he used a nickname. The men did not refer to each other that way; they were not friends.

John saw the room Alvin had seemed to make himself on stage but not much else. There were one or two lamps lit, he having got into some electric wiring somewhere, and several candles lit. Some of the women were using small, paper fans to cool themselves. John saw empty cans of food and beer thrown about. He didn't want to waste any time. "Where we stayin'?"

"What's the rush? Why don't you take a look around? I can get one of the girls to give you a tour."

There was always an edge in his voice. When he received no reply Karpis smirked mischievously. "There are plenty of dressing rooms empty. There's some food stored backstage, and an outhouse behind the building."

John gripped Billie's hand tightly and walked them through the theater, back along the darkened corridors. The theater seemed more spooky in the dark backrooms. There was a lantern dimply illuminating a room and John entered it. It was one of the dressing rooms, smaller than the rest, but for the time being John pulled Billie inside and shut the door. She let the cat jump from her arms, John oblivious to the animal's distress for the sake of Billie's.

They looked at each other through the shadows. It started to become real now that Billie was standing in the room- they would be living, for however long, in this abandoned building. No electricity, no accommodations, no real beds. The place felt like an oven except in the backrooms that probably hadn't seen light for years where the air held a damp chill. It wasn't comfortable and Billie didn't feel safe. She knew John would take care of her, but when he was uneasy she was even more on edge.

"You alright?" he asked her, touching her face. Her blue eyes looked up into his, their innocent power remarkable.

"Are you?"

He sighed, not wanting to admit to his vulnerabilities. "We won't stay here long," he said instead, wanting to focus on a subject more appealing. Billie gave him a sympathetic smile and they hugged, sharing a small moment of comfort.

Later, John and Billie were surrounded by their suitcases in the dressing room. There were several lanterns lit around the area, a set of sheets and blankets spread out on the floor acting as a bed. They were sitting quietly, Billie folding her clothes and John loading and reloading bullets into his pistol. There came a knock on the door and John's fist clenched the weapon tighter.

"Hey," Homers voice came before his face was shown. He looked flushed- a likely side effect of running through the theater like an excited little boy. "You guys comin' out? Al's gonna put on a picture."

For the first time Billie was hearing about the "picture" that had been used to lure her into a false sense of security. She and John had not been going to enjoy a day at the local theater- they were living in an abandoned one with multiple criminals of various convictions and notoriety. However, there did seem to be an actual movie picture showing somewhere.

"Come on before it starts," Home said excitedly, disappearing behind the door once again. John looked to Billie and they shared a silent conversation.

It was obvious John didn't want anything to do with the theater or the men in it, but he had to. At the moment there was no other option. To make the best of it he'd have to put on a good face. His attitude would affect Billie and bring both of them down. She would enjoy watching a picture. They would go together but John was content to stay very close to her side. He didn't want her straying too far from him either. They linked hands and John led them out through the darkened hallways to the faint glimmer of yellow light in the auditorium.

Again there came the sounds of voices conversing and the occasional female giggle. John and Billie took a few steps into the room before they were noticed, Pete cheering from somewhere in the center of the seating area. "'ay! Here they come!"

"'bout time," someone else added.

"Glad you made it," Alvin said in such a way that made the edge of John's lip curl. They were striding past the man as he prepared a projector down the center of the auditorium. The machine was pointed toward the stage, the curtain on the back wall acting as a screen. Billie was momentarily caught up in watching this unique process play out. "I got plenty of books, but I only got one picture, and we just watch it over and over, so far I can just about-oh," he stopped in the middle of his sentence as a pretty girl he had not completely noticed before walked by. "Hi," he added absentmindedly, his voice taking on a new octave.

Aware she was being greeted, Billie glanced over her shoulder and uttered a "hello" before John pulled her away, making her scoot into an isle and climb to their seats. John kept walking and walking, Billie giggling and wondering why he was choosing seats so far away. By now he was smiling too. When they finally settled down in the darkness he was smirking, the look on John's face mischievous. Billie knew what that look meant but since he had traded his frown for a smirk she had to be happy. She would indulge him in whatever he wished.

"Alright, here it goes…"

An image flickered on the screen, jutting up and down several times before settling into a generally uneasy motion.

"Keep your voice down."

"Hey, shut up!"

It took everyone in the theater in a few minutes to completely settle down. Even though some of the men still wandered round the theater they were quiet and that was an accomplishment. John put his arm around Billie, holding her close. She glanced toward his face, seeing he had that glossy look in his eye which meant he was more excited to be sitting so near to her in the dark than watching the picture. Slowly his hand started to caress her skin, slipping up and down her arm. Goosebumps rose on her skin. John continued to touch her until he felt a kind of abrasion and frowned. His distraction drew both of their eyes.

"How'd you get this?" he asked huskily.

Billie saw the red scratch on her arm and dismissed it with a little shrug. "Clark. He doesn't like being here," she whispered with what looked like a sympathetic smile.

John raised her arm toward his face, his lips puckering against the scratch. A warm feeling spread through her. The black and white motion on the screen had simply become dancing shadows. Before she had too much time to relax in the sensation John was inching closer, resting his face in the crook of her neck. He nuzzled his nose lightly near her ear and down.

"You know when I'm in a dark theater like this, a beautiful girl on my arm, I start feeling like a teenager again…"

She felt his lips puckering and dragging against her skin. They both grinned and John didn't wait for permission to begin nibbling and licking her ear. Alarmed but aroused Billie squeaked in the darkness, soon more snickers and whispers sounded from their corner in the theater.

Alvin stood near the projector, ready to fix any problems that happened while the film was running. He didn't need to watch the picture as he'd said he'd seen it multiple times. Homer strode up next to him holding a handful of peanuts, occasionally tossing one into his mouth and munching away. He offered one to Alvin who declined with a shake of his head. At this moment a flirty giggle erupted from somewhere in the crowd. Both of the men turned their heard toward the noise, seeing a jumble of limbs flailing about. Home was unconcerned with the couple- rather, he was used to it by now.

The eyes that lingered in the back corner were Alvin's. He had seen that dress earlier and knew it belonged to the pretty brunette with ice blue eyes. He enjoyed the sound of her laughter and what was probably a squeal of pleasure. His face remained stern but it always did when the most effective thoughts were running through his head.

"Who's that?"

It took Homer a minute to realize he was being asked a question. He shoved a few more peanuts into his mouth. "Who?"

"The young girl. Brunette…" he arched his head toward where she sat. Homer turned around, unaware of Alvin's interest.

"That's Billie. John's girl."

Homer turned back to the picture, laughing suddenly, a piece of nut flying from his mouth. Everyone's attention was pulled forward except for Alvin Karpis. His eyes were on the back of the house, within the shadowy corner, watching Billie Frechette with a disturbing intensity.