Chapter 78
John and Billie found themselves again in Red's apartment. Most of the gang was gathered there as well, they all taking advantage of the fireplace, unbroken windows and working bathroom. The onset of winter had been upon them for weeks. With the cold weather everything seemed to become more difficult. Comfort wasn't as easy to maintain, but that wasn't entirely the weather's fault. For the time being John and Billie and the rest of the gang had to remain living in the crumbling apartment building. Their spirits were low and so that evening they attempted to create something like holiday cheer.
Billie sat on the floor close to the fireplace, wearing John's overcoat and resting near the burning wood to warm her bones. Clark had a similar idea, the cat passed out and content sleeping near the heat as well. Little Bo was spending this visit in the bathroom- the only room closed off and with tile flooring, as he had taken fondly to peeing on anything in sight. Billie and Jane were flipping through magazines, Mariy was painting her nails at the single table in the apartment, and the men sat around listening to the radio. John was reading the sports section of the newspaper when an announcer's voice on the radio caught his attention.
"…authorities have been on the scene for hours detaining the drunken felon…"
Somewhere uptown a drunk vagabond had wandered into a pub, refused to pay his tab and allegedly vandalized the building. Several police were attempting to figure out the identity of the man and where he belonged, but apparently those responsible for him were keeping quiet.
"…another woman is pressing charges, accusing the tramp of vomiting on her doorstep…"
Homer and Pete burst out laughing, even John cracking a smile. Pete reached forward and took a gulp out of a beer bottle, Homer taking advantage of the humorous moment and deciding to comment. "At least that'll keep the cops on that side of town so tomorr-"
Before Homer could finish John swiftly kicked him under the table. The man yelped and almost fell off his chair, clutching his shin. John and several of the other men looked around the room but mainly at Billie, wondering if she had heard. It didn't appear as though the comment drew her attention as much as the cry of pain and Homer's sting of obscenities. Trying his best to ignore him, John folded the paper back atop the table and looked toward the women.
"Say, how's about we get that thing for Billie."
Hearing her name Billie looked to John, at a loss for what he meant. Jane smiled and disappeared, returning a moment later with a large box. John exchanged knowing looks with the women who stood up from where they were and moved to do other activities or the back of the room. The box was placed before Billie and John sat in the living room with her all the while wearing his infamous smirk. She peeked to the back of the room and then back at John, trying to make sense of this surprise.
"Johnnie. What's this?"
"Open and find out, doll."
She gave him a skeptical look but couldn't hide her smile. It was some kind of gift, clearly, but she couldn't image how he had managed it. The box was large. "How did you afford this?" she whispered.
"Let me worry about that." Billie tried to frown but it wasn't convincing. She continued to hesitate and eventually John pushed the box closer to her. "Come on, baby."
She gave in. Her hands found the top of the box and raised it off, the item inside concealed with tissue paper. Her curious hands were quick to remove the paper, Billie then gasping and her eyes growing wide. John grinned. There was fur inside the box and even before she picked it up and realized it was a coat Billie was aghast. She was overwhelmed with the amount of money it was worth and the fact that it had been spent on her. Again she lowered her voice and eyed John. "Did you steal this?"
"No!" he replied, almost offended. John wasn't bothered when he bought items with stolen money, but being accused of stealing the item itself seemed to get a rise out of him.
"Then how did you-"
"Don't worry about it," he tried to calm her down, worried that her concern would overshadow the gift.
"John."
"Billie."
He paused another moment before saying, "do you even like it?"
She jumped at his suggestion. "I love it! You know I do, Johnnie. I've never had a fur coat of my own. I never thought I would." She rose, shrugging off John's overcoat and he stood next to help her into the coat. It fit just right- the fur trim blossomed around her neck, and the bottom of the coat fell around her thighs. It wasn't something to wear in the springtime. This was a winter coat and John hoped it would keep her warm. It was a lavish gift but one that had practical roots.
John said, "It's like that porcupine."
Billie made a face at the strange words. "What?"
"That story you told me about the porcupine and his fur and the quills… Remember?"
Soon enough she did remember. When John had been sick Billie had told him stories, Native American legends, and apparently he had listened for whatever reason. As she recalled he had found them funny; perhaps that was why. The porcupine had admired his fur so much that he was given quills as punishment for his vanity. The gift and John's reference to it made Billie's insides flutter.
"What's the occasion?" Homer demanded from the back of the room, as oblivious to the gift as Billie had been just moments before.
"Don't need one," was John's reply as Billie slid into his lap and lustfully captured his lips. John pushed his hands inside the coat, running them over her hips and higher and lower sensuously. Homer seemed repulsed by the whole scene, turning away from them with a frown. Jane looked to Red.
"Well?"
He starred back. "What?"
"Don't I get anything?"
He didn't flinch. "No."
She made a noise of disgust and left the men's table. The only female remaining there was Mairy, and before she opened her mouth to ask the same thing Pete stepped in. "There ain't nothin' for you, either."
The apartment was divided- the men oblivious, the women distraught, and John and Billie embracing in their own little world.