Chapter 54

“Goddamn it,” he said, reading the fee. But he wasn’t changing his mind about Mexico.

No way.

* * * *

In the quiet hall, feeling weak and nauseous, Billy leaned his forehead to the phone box, listening to the rings. He hadn’t called Francis since arriving in New Orleans. When he swallowed, his throat felt sore, and then he noticed that his hands were cold and his heart was beating fast. He didn’t feel too good. They’d been partying pretty hard in the last days. Maybe a little toohard.

He gazed around at the hall. This place was the brownest, dullest place he’d ever seen. Why couldn’t they leave here already? But every day, he’d end up in a bar, with freedom and chaos pumping through his veins like a perfect drug he never knew he’d missed, until the night he’d gotten a taste of it. No job. No bills. No clock to follow. His Mickey Mouse watch had stopped running yesterday, and now Mickey’s white-gloved hands were perpetually stuck between three and four.