The Unexpected Partner

Chapter 2

Billy grasped the whiskey bottle and poured a glass for the old, rugged cowboy.

"More," the old fellow demanded.

Billy poured more of the whiskey until the cup almost overflowed causing the man to glare at him and slowly take his glass off the counter before walking back to his table.

Out of nowhere, two more men came up to the counter, asking Billy to pour them a drink. "One second, folks, I'll be right back."
The two men looked at him with a disapproving look, while one of them responded, "Why don't you pour us some and then leave?"

"Really? You want me to shit myself right here, I have to go to the outhouse." Billy replied, running up the stairs, and ignoring their annoyance.

They looked at each other, confused. "Ain't the outhouse, outside?"

Billy ran up to the second floor of A's Saloon, which was off limits to regular customers.

"Shane!" He called out. He called out again when he didn't get a response the first time. "Shane!" He went into the little room, also known as Shane's living quarters and saw Shane on a ladder, fixing the ceiling.

"What are you doing?" Shane asked, seeing Billy wade into the room.

"What are you doing?" Billy responded.

"I'm fixing my god damn ceiling; it's been leaking for days."

"Oh," Billy said with a little pause and then continued in a passive angry tone. "There's too many men downstairs."

Shane climbed down from the ladder, put his tools down and wiped his hands of the dust. "What do you mean?"

"There're too many damn drinkers. I can't do this on my own."

"Billy, I've put up the sign that we need another worker, but no one wants to work here."

He signed, knowing that Shane was right. "I'll go back...but I better get paid more this week for all the extra work and bullying from those brutes."

"I'll come help you," Shane said, going to the water dispenser to wash his hands. Billy nodded and ran down to the first floor again where he could hear the men getting rowdy at the fact that one was there to pour their drinks. Loada' savages, he thought to himself.

Shane put on a clean shirt and brushed his nape length hair out of the way. Why did I decide to open a saloon? He asked himself, feeling the tiresome work of having this type of business in this type of town. Oh yes, I remember why, he thought as he splashed water on his face and got ready to go downstairs.

He walked down the squeaky stairs reminding himself that they are another thing he had to fix. If only I could hire another worker, then I could focus on fixing these things. But in Silver Wood, Montana, the pious town, no one wanted to work in A's Saloon, even though it was one of the only saloons people have seen that did not allow women or prostitutes to enter. Shane found it to be the best place one could work at. Maybe he was a little biased.

Going down to the main floor, Shane heard the loud noises of the men, playing poker, and drinking, having a laugh with their fellow men. There were many tables filled with the rowdiness of the saloon vibes. Lots of men were laughing, arguing or concentrating on the game they were playing.

"You're a bastard!" He heard one of the men on the tables yell at the other man, making the whole table laugh. He's definitely drunk, Shane observed.

Shane turned his head to see Billy rushing to get all the drinks the men were asking for. He looks stressed, Shane thought, laughing to himself. He went over to help Billy, taking the orders of some of the men.

"Shot of bourbon," one of the cowboys said.

Shane nodded and poured him a shot which the man gulped down in one second.

"Another one!" He yelled, slamming a quarter on the counter.

Shane nodded with a straight face, pouring another shot. The same cycle went on for another five rounds until the big hunk had to be carried away by his friends.

"What an idiot," Billy whispered to Shane, laughing at his own joke.

A few minutes go by and more of the men come to get drinks. "Do we have enough liquor?" Billy asked.

Shane turned to him while getting another liquor bottle from the bottom of the counter. "Yes, I bought all of Grant's drinks this morning. All his bourbon and rye."

Billy busted out into a fit of laughter, causing Shane to look at him with a weird look and then smile because Billy's laugh made anyone laugh. "What's so funny?" Shane asked, chuckling at him.

Billy laughed some more, poured the drink for the customer and said, "Cause everyone knows how much Grant drinks, so you buying all his liquor probably made him crazy."

Shane laughed, not at what Bill was saying but at how Billy looked when he laughed. His short hair and pale skin, with his mouth open wide. Yellow teeth and a loud sound like an overheated tea kettle. The sight that would make anyone laugh.

The two young men got back to giving the customers drinks and kept at it for another hour before the rush started to die down. After sundown, less people came to the A's Saloon. But the type of people was different. What felt like an eternity later, at midnight, the saloon closed its doors and the few people that were in it left.

"What a day. I swear my groin is sweating from how hard I worked," Billy said, laughing again at his own joke.

Shane laughed at the sight of him, "Thanks Billy, you did good. I'll pay you more today and I'll try to find you a helper."

"It's no big deal," Billy said, putting his hand over Shane's shoulder. "That's what brothers are for."

Shane looked at him with a straight face and then at his arm that was hanging around Shane's broad shoulders. Billy smiled nervously and took his arm off his shoulder. "Sorry."

"Billy Spuns, you are different," Shane said, walking towards the stairs.

"Wait a minute, what do you mean by that?!" Billy tried to sound mad.

"Nothing, go home. See you tomorrow."

"All right, goodbye." Billy walked to the door, whispering asshole under his breath. But he didn't mean it. Even though Shane was mean to some, he was never mean to Billy, his hilarious, troublemaking friend.

Shane walked up the stairs to his little bedroom, chuckling to himself at how funny Billy was. He entered his room and sat on his bed, jumping up after he felt his bottom was wet.

"What the hell," he exclaimed, feeling that his bed sheets were soaked with water. His eyes immediately traveled up to the ceiling. It was leaking. Groaning at the sight, he took off the wet bed covers, moved his bed so the dripping water did not reach it, and put another bucket on the floor. One day, I'll fix this stupid ceiling, he reassured himself before sleeping the night away.

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Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed! :D