dust in the wind | arthur morgan

chapter seven

MONSOON SALOON, STRAWBERRY
10:43PM

✼✼✼

The Monsoon Saloon was the fanciest saloon you could come across in the whole two states of New Austin and West Elizabeth. The exterior was predominately white and had rather intricate woodwork, causing the itself to emerge grandly from any other building in the entirety of the town.

It was spacious inside, with a sleek, merlot-wood piano on the left and durable, clean tables to the right. The long, granite-top bar was towards the back, but resided regally between two grand staircases. The majority of the floor happened to be shiny oak planks whereas around the bar, ornate black and red tiling had been fitted.

On the second floor, there were overnight rooms available to rent, a couple of bathrooms and even a poker table by the glass doors to the balcony. 

By early evening, the building was flooded with people, as it always was. The empty space surrounding the piano was bustling with dancers and wives, enjoying their evening with their tipsy husbands before they drink themselves silly, the poker table was completely crowded, four men betting their bill money away for a frivolous gamble, their drunken desire overestimating the odds for a fortuitous fortune. 

The smokers littered on the veranda could sense that the sky was darkening quicker than ever, and the temperatures were dropping like an anvil from a window.

Estella and Arthur were inside, celebrating their recent success (the robbery of the cocaine wagon) for which they gained an extraordinary thousand dollars. Everyone was chuffed with the income, especially John, as it was his plan. He didn't stop smiling the entire night, it only growing when Hosea gave him a hefty pat on his back, prized with a proud smile.

Hosea and John would've joined the duo on their trip... had they been invited.

It was quite a spontaneous and thoughtless event, in all honesty; Estella was bored at camp, felt like having a drink, and persuaded Arthur to come as a victory for their brave efforts.

She questioned herself why she only invited Arthur out. She knew the real reason, of course, deep down. She was kind of hoping that something would happen. 

But she pushed the thought away, not wanting to get ahead of herself.

At that moment, Arthur and Estella were warm and content at the bar, chatting away with the bartender, Freddie.

Freddie wasn't much taller than the Hispanic woman, maybe two inches or so with platinum blonde hair and almond eyes of the purest blue. His figure was rather slim, perhaps even borderline skinny. He seemed much more youthful than any bartender she had come across before, and to her judgements, she was right, as he claimed to be only twenty-one.

"So get this," She began, facing Freddie as she allowed the shot of whiskey to trickle down into her stomach. She was tipsy and happily so, for Arthur was just in the same state besides her, appearing more enlightened than usual.

"I was in this saloon, drunk out of my mind with Arthur and some other fellas for my eighteenth birthday. Now, for some reason, I think it's best if I go climb a tree. So whilst everyone is looking for me in the saloon, I'm outside, sat in a tree, having the time of my life, drinking a bottle of beer and singing to myself. Then Arthur finds me and he's just as drunk as I am and he's like "How did you get up there?" and I was like "I don't know, I jumped!". He fell on his ass more times than I could count but he wouldn't let up!"

Estella's smile evolved into a loud laugh whilst Freddie allowed a quiet albeit big laugh. Arthur rolled his eyes, though he held a wide grin. He altered himself on the bar, using his elbows to prop him up as he took a sip of his whiskey.