Jean-Baptiste hated the city. He hates the sights, the sounds, the stench. Every time he stepped out of the apartment building his nose wrinkled in distaste. Even though he’d been here for a couple of weeks he never got used to city life. After Lisette’s passing, the rest of the Doubois crew packed up and moved to New York to be with Evelyn. It was a rough transition and Jean was hard-pressed to find a university that would accept him into their medical program mid-semester. He was lucky that his exceptional grades and the strong recommendations from his professors were enough to sway the admissions board.
He made sure to lock the door behind him as he left the small, cramped apartment. Heloise and Marguerite were occupied by the sitter and he hoped they would stay that way until he and Evelyn returned. Jean pulled his overcoat closed as he took off down the street. It was bitterly cold and the polecat was not accustomed to such chilly weather. The walk to the club was, in actuality, a short one but due to the cold it seemed like an eternity before he reached the false storefront. The sign that hung from the window read ‘Come on in, we’re OPEN!”, Jean scoffed as he opened the door and stepped into the cigar store. As per usual it was empty, he strolled around and glanced at the myriad of Cuban cigars behind the display glass. It wasn’t long before the door to the backroom swung open and an out of breath Appaloosa stepped into the store.
“Howdy, welcome to Blow Me Down. How can I-Oh Jean, it’s you.” Dee stopped mid-spiel when he realized it wasn’t an actual customer who had walked into the store.
“No, do go on.” Jean joked as he followed Dee through the back room and down the dank stairs that led to the side entrance of the Spiked Tiger.
The club had a relaxed atmosphere and Jean found it to be a stark contrast to the almost frantic ambiance it took on at night. A few of the dancers were up on the stage, going through routines and bickering over costumes. Ike was behind the bar as usual, taking inventory and deciding what needed to be brought up from the store room. Jean even spied Yury slinking about, looking rather miffed. Before he could make his way to the dressing room a loud shout made the polecat jump. An excited looking canine came bounding through the rear entrance, knocking over some precariously stacked crates.
“Ikki, I got it!” He triumphantly held up a long piece of fabric. The piece of chartreuse colored cloth was waved about as the canine all but skipped over to the bar.
“That’s not it you ninny.” Ike snatched the material from the canine and examined it. “Levi, you grabbed the wrong one!”
“I did not!” Levi leaned over the bar to look at the fabric again, his nose wrinkling in distaste.
“Yes, you did. Levi, can’t you do anything right. I said the pea greenish one was Veronica’s and the olive colored one was Lydia’s.” Ike looked at Levi with contempt.
“That’s pea green!” Levi shouted.
“No, this is clearly olive.”
“Pea. Green.”
“O-live” Ike spat, “Hey J.B., would you call this pea green or olive?” Jean was a bit surprised that Ike asked him for his opinion, up until now he had been watching with a glint of amusement in his eye but now that they needed his input he became a bit more serious. He walked over to the pair and examined the material, which he now realized was a woman’s scarf.
“I’d say pea green.” Jean declared and handed the scarf back to an irritated looking Ike.
“See!” Levi threw an arm around Jean’s shoulders, which was a bit awkward considering Jean was taller by at least five inches.
“Ay stronzo, the bottom line is this ain’t Veronica’s. You’ll just have to go back and get the right one.” Ike placed the scarf on the bar and shrugged.
“Stronzo? Stronzo? Who the hell you callin’ stronzo? ‘Fanculo, you do it yourself!” Levi shouted and gesticulated wildly.
“Veronica’ll be here any minute now, if I’m not here when she arrives then we are over.”
“Che peccato, not my problem.” Levi stuck his tongue out for emphasis.
“Vi, come on. Just go back to my place and get the other scarf, damnit.” Ike’s voice took on a pleading tone.
“No. It’s your own damn fault. ” Levi was obstinate, “You really need to stop acting like some drugstore cowboy, picking up floozies left and right.”
“She ain’t some floozy.” Ike muttered as he hopped over the bar counter.
“She sure looks like one.” Levi chuckled, though it was cut short as Ike lunged for him. He grabbed Levi’s left arm and jerked it behind his back, pulling up until the smaller male yelped.
“Ow! Lasciami andare! Che fa male!” The string of Italian had Jean’s head tilting in confusion. Levi squirmed a bit as he pleaded with Ike some more to let him go. After another minute or so Ike complied. Levi scrambled away, rubbing at his arm.
“Don’t run your mouth. It’ll get you into worse trouble than that.” Ike fished around in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette.
“Vaffanculo! Ike, why you always gotta do shit like that?!” Levi bellowed as he shook his fist at his cousin.
“Shut up and go fetch that other scarf.” Ike lit a match and held it up to the end of the cigarette that was hanging from his lips, taking a long drag off of it. Levi turned around and stalked off toward the exit, muttering curses in Italian along the way. Jean Baptiste stood there for a while deciding on if he should go after Levi or let him be. In the end he decided on the former.
“I’ll go with him.” Ike only nodded as he watched Jean half jog after Levi. He managed to catch up with the angry canine hybrid as he was getting into a jet black Ford Coupe. He slid into the passenger's side without a word and Levi only spared a glance before he took off down the mostly deserted road. “You alright?”
“Yeah. He’s such an ass sometimes. Hell, most of the time. But he’s family. And he’s saved my hide plenty of times.” Levi shrugged and Jean only nodded, understanding the double edged sword that came with family.
Levi was the same age as Jean though the antlered canine was technically his senior by three months. When Jean had first encountered Levi the polecat had no idea what to make of him exactly, he was fairly subdued when not engaged but once Levi started interacting with someone he lit up. It was endearing really, how animated he was. The two had hit it off pretty quickly, Jean found himself opening up to Levi far faster than anyone else he had met. As the pair pulled into Ike’s apartment building parking lot Jean let out a low whistle. He knew Ike was well off but he didn’t know how well off. The hooch trade must be quite lucrative up north, down south it really wasn’t that difficult to come across moonshine. In fact most folks had a small set up of their own in their backyards. When Prohibition was passed most of the local officials looked the other way as long as they got the occasional jug or two.
It didn’t take them long to locate the other scarf and the two agreed that it was indeed olive in color. Especially in comparison with the other one. They hustled back to the speakeasy, knowing Ike was on a time crunch. It seemed as if they arrived just in time, as they reentered the Spiked Tiger a leggy rabbit was leaning up against the bar giving Ike a talking to. Levi placed the olive colored scarf on the counter and greeted the rabbit.
“This must be Miss Veronica, who I’ve heard so much about.” Levi’s smile was met with a glare from the rabbit and a horrified look from Ike.
“I’m Lydia. Who the hell is Veronica?” Her voice was full of anger and irritation.
“Lyd, baby. She’s no one. Honest!” Ike struggled to explain himself and Lydia was growing more and more irritated by the second.
“Now you listen here Isaac Martinelli, I’ve had enough of your flanderin’ ways.” Lydia snatched her scarf off the counter and turned to face Isaac full on.
“Tesorino, please let me explain!” Ike didn’t have time to say anything else as Lydia delivered an open-handed slap across his cheek and stormed off.
“What a gal.” Levi whispered and Jean couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. Ike turned to the pair and flipped them the bird before slinking off to the dressing room to have one of the girls fawn over him.
“Never a dull moment, huh?” The polecat shook his head as he watched Ike reemerge from the dressing room feigning pain while Beverly fussed over his sore cheek. Evelyn came out soon after shaking her head, when she spied Jean she set her jaw and made a beeline for him.
“Jus whatchu think ya doin’ here? Doncha have a class or somethin’?” Evelyn wagged her finger at him as Jean rolled his eyes in annoyance.
“I’m not skippin’. Classes were canceled today. Some big medical convention or somthin’” Jean shrugged.
“My eye!” Evelyn scoffed in disbelief.
“It’s true! I ain’t lyin’!” The younger Doubois grumbled as he watched Evelyn give him the eye before turning around and going back into the dressing room. A soft chuckle from Levi had Jean’s attention snapping back to him. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothin’, just that your accent gets thicker when you talk to Evie.” Levi smirked as he watched Jean’s nose twitch.
“It does not.” Jean muttered as he avoided Levi’s gaze.
“Aw don’t go getting sore at me. I’m not poking fun at cha.” The dog hybrid nudged Jean to assure him that he meant no harm.
“ ‘M not upset.”
“You are too, your nose twitches when you’re ticked.” As soon as Levi revealed Jean’s tell he doubled over in laughter as the twitching of Jean’s nose increased tenfold. Jean sighed as he playfully shoved Levi’s shoulder.
“Ah, what do you know you mangy mutt?” Jean smiled.
“Up yours ya no good vermin.” Levi hopped over the bar counter and grabbed a couple of glasses. Pouring his friend a generous amount of gin before pouring himself one. As Jean took a swig of the hard liquor he thought back to how different his life was a couple of months before and although he missed the bayou terribly he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the new friends he had made in this city.
Sometimes Jean forgot he was dealing with a band of bootleggers and criminals when he saw some of the antics the troupe got themselves in but all too frequently he was given a shocking reminder of just how wild things got around the speakeasy. Especially with this new dealer who had taken over Sappo’s old operation. Jean had only met the pachyderm once, and once was enough for the polecat. Kamran was quiet but radiated an air of danger, as if he was barely containing a fit of rage. Rumors were swirling about the rumrunner, the most concerning one was that he had something to do with Sappo’s disappearance. Though with Kamran’s connections to the East India Company and the rapidly expanding opium trade no one was really willing to give that up in exchange for justice. Even Jean, who was at the very edge of the black market underworld, understood that it was a precarious time for Yury and his growing bootleg business. He just hoped the group avoided any casualties as they navigated this rocky path.