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Hidden Ways 3.htm
The cold wind accompanied Billy inside.
"Billy," Torrie said, "I'm sorry. For a moment, I didn't recognize you."
"If you'll invite me in and feed me some hot cocoa, I'll be happy to change
into dungarees and a T-shirt, if that'll make you feel better." Billy pulled
the front door closed behind him, waiting for the click before he turned back.
"Honestly, Torrie, I thought I
was going to freeze to death out there, waiting for you to answer the door."
"I said I was sorry, and I am, honest. Come on up," Torrie said, adjusting the
jacket around the pistol. This wasn't a great time for a visit, but there was
no way to say that, and he wasn't about to leave Billy out in the cold.
"If you're on your way out, I'm glad I caught you," Billy said. "It's fucking
cold out there; you'll need more than a light jacket."
Torrie patted at the jacket. "Nah. It's not that."
Then what is it? Quickly, quickly.
"A friend of Maggie's was going to be dropping by with some tools, and I
figured I'd help him carry them in."
"Some things never change," Billy said.
"Eh?"
"Never mind."
Torrie had always liked Billy Olson, but Billy had never quite gotten over the
image of Torrie as the little kid that used to tag along with him and Jeff and
Davy, and if Billy was talking about things that had never changed, being
irritating hadn't changed, either.
"It's good to see you," Torrie said, which was only the polite thing to say,
after all. But then he realized that it was true.
"I was just thinking that myself," Billy said with a quirked smile.
Torrie led Billy inside the apartment, and while Billy had his back turned,
removing his coat, Torrie stuck the pistol in his right pants pocket and
pulled his shirt out of his pants to cover the butt of the gun.
That was the trouble with these damn things. You had to worry about hiding
them, because in the city, at least, if anybody saw somebody with a gun,
they'd piss all over themselves in panic, as though it was some sort of
metallic demon that would leap up and bite them without warning.
Page 116
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Which was exactly backwards. A good sword, even a good practice �p�e, had a
kind of soul, a spirit to it. It came alive in your hand, leaping and moving
swiftly and surely, as though of its own volition, its forte and foible coming
to your defense, its tip probing for weakness, like an extension of your
finger.
But a gun was just a piece of dead metal. Point it, pull the trigger, and
there was a loud sound and a hole somewhere. If you'd pointed it right, maybe
the hole was even in what you were pointing at.
Maggie came through the swinging kitchen door, her right hand behind her back
for just a moment.
"Billy!" she almost squealed, as though they were long-lost friends.
file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis.../spaar/Joel%20Rosenberg%
20-%20Hidden%20Ways%203.htm (138 of 213)22-2-2006 0:42:08
Hidden Ways 3.htm
"Hello, Maggie," Billy said. "I was in the neighborhood, and I figured I'd
drop by and say hi for just a moment. If that isn't a problem if the two of
you aren't on your way out somewhere, or... busy with something?"
She laughed at Torrie's obvious discomfort. "No, we're spending a quiet
evening in," she said, gesturing at the pieces of the
Stickley buffet, neatly laid out on spread newspaper. "Working on some
refinishing."
Pleasantries exchanged, hot cocoa for Billy and coffee for Torrie and Maggie
poured and tasted, Billy sat back on the couch, next to Maggie, and looked
from Torrie to Maggie, and then back again.
"I guess I could have called," Billy said, "but I couldn't find a number for
you, Maggie."
"It's under my roommate's name," she said, as she sipped at her coffee. "But
you're welcome to have it do you have a memory like Torrie's, or should I
write it down?"
"Paper, please."
They all sat quietly while she found a small notebook and a Bic pen in the
scattering of newspapers and magazines on the coffee table, opened the
notebook, and wrote down the number.
"I think this is one of those awkward silences," Billy said, his smile too
light, too easy.
"Shit, Billy..."
"Such language, Torrie."
I could ask you why you haven't called or stopped by in the past three years,
Billy's expression said.
"No," he said, lifting a palm, "I'm not here to give you a hard time, although
there is a temptation. I guess it's partly because I
enjoyed tweaking Jeff a little bit with Maggie..."
Maggie snickered. "You should have seen him, Torrie. He looked like he was
going to jump out of his skin."
"You have a mean streak, Maggie," Billy said. "I like that."
Torrie felt disloyal sitting and listening to the two of them making fun of
Jeff, while Jeff was out using himself like a worm on a hook, hoping that the
Son would bite at the right wriggle.
Torrie glared at Maggie, who ignored him.
"That's not fair," Torrie said. "And you know it. Both of you know it." So
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