Ghost Town II
by Rob Warr
Chapter 2
"It looks the same," Jamie said as they pushed open the door to the Hotel and went inside, "nothing seems to have changed," he noted, but suddenly a noise from somewhere ahead caused him to freeze in his tracks.
Dickie froze too, almost bumping into Jamie before he was able to stop.
There it was again, the unmistakable sound of a bell ringing. Not just any bell, however, but the kind of bell that a customer rang to get the attention of, say for instance, the clerk at a hotel. The boys stood staring in the direction of the desk, and suddenly they could not only hear the bell being struck, but see it vibrate as if some invisible hand was beating on it.
Then slowly the hand began to materialize, taking shape and fleshing out even as other parts of the body of the bell-ringer began to come into being as well. An arm, a shoulder, a chest, neck, torso, and finally a head, that of a man in his late 40s or early 50s, his mustached face screwed up in a disapproving scowl as he continued to beat on the bell.
"Clerk, where the hell are you?" the man snarled as the two boys watched on in wide-eyed wonder.
The man was dressed in what one would have called 'dandy clothes' back then, a three piece suit, a bolo tie, a bowler hat, and shiny black shoes with spats, which the boys only knew about through TV and films.
"Yes sir, coming, sir..." a young man said appearing from somewhere behind the desk, "how may I help you?"
The man grunted, "Been waiting here forever. Is this any way to run a hotel?" he smirked, "I need a room, preferably your finest room, with a view of the street. Oh, and I'll need a bath as well."
"Yes sir, our finest room, that's room 6, and I'll have my boy start heating the water for your bath, should be ready in, oh, say an hour. Is that acceptable."
The man grunted again, "What choice do I have? Seems this is the only hotel in this hellhole of a town."
"Yes sir, I mean, yes, it's the only one, but we like to think we are very good at what we do. Will you be needing any company, sir?" the young man said giving the man a lewd smile.
"Perhaps later, after the bath, but I do hope the women in this town aren't as worn out as the rest of it."
"No sir, we have some very nice girls to choose from...and, if your tastes go in another direction," he said in a conspiratorial tone, "some nice lads as well."
The man didn't look offended, in fact, he seemed to perk up at the mention of this alternate entertainment.
"We'll see, later, after my bath. I'm going to unpack and lie down for a bit. The stagecoach ride was horrible, just horrible."
The young man rang the bell himself this time, and from somewhere a boy of about 12 or so appeared wearing a bellhop's uniform, complete with one of those silly hats. Dickie almost laughed as he whispered to Jamie, "He looks like one of the flying monkeys in the Wizard of Oz."
Jamie grinned and was about to agree when the boy suddenly spoke, "Take your bags, sir?"
His voice sounded familiar, but neither boy could place it. Then as they thought about it they studied the boy's face and suddenly it dawned on them where they'd heard that voice before. Without a doubt this boy was a younger version of Malachi, one of the brothers that had been hanged for killing the two cowboys.
They saw now that Malachi was a little older than they'd first thought, maybe closer to Dickie's age perhaps, but he was still just a boy, delicate and very cute.
"Malachi," After you take the gentleman's bags to his room, start heating water for his bath," the clerk said kindly.
"Yes, sir," the teen said giving the clerk a nod, then he was gone, swooping up the man's two bags and leading the way up the stairs.
"Grubby old dick," the clerk muttered beneath his breath when the man was out of sight, then spinning the sign-in book around, he read the man's name for the first time, "Joseph Bonner," he muttered, "nah, can't be the same guy that's supposed to be so fast on the draw. This guy is more of a dandy than a gunslinger."
"I'm confused," Jamie said softly, what does this have to do with what happened to the two brothers? I mean, yeah, one of them is here, only younger, but what does it all mean?"
"You got me, let's go upstairs and see what Malachi and that guy are up to. You heard what the clerk said about having lads he could send to entertain that guy."
"Yeah, I wonder if Malachi is one of them. He's cute enough, that's for sure."
"Yeah, but he didn't seem like the type who'd do that for money, and where's his brother?"
"Maybe he doesn't work here, or maybe he works another shift, hopefully we'll find out, come on."
Room six was halfway down the hall, with the bathroom right next door. Bathroom was an apt name for it, for it contained no sink or toilet, just a huge porcelain bath tub. There was a fireplace where the water was heated in a huge bucket that was attached to an overhead mechanism which allowed it to be moved from the fireplace to the bathtub where the water was dumped. The container was then refilled at a hand pump and more water heated on the fire. It took about three or four times to get enough water to fill the tub, but the water was hot enough that it was still fairly warm by the time the last batch was poured in.
Malachi was just coming out of room six when the boys reached it, and they paused as they watched the boy open the door to the bathroom. They followed Malachi inside and watched as he started a fire and swung the first container of water into place.
"Simple, but effective," Jamie noted, "makes me appreciate the fact that we have lots of hot water at home when we shower or bathe."
"Yeah, I wonder what year hot water tanks were invented..."
"I think in the late 1800's, but they didn't become popular till the 1900's, at least not in America. Probably about the same time flush toilets did," Jamie chuckled.
"Eww...I'd have hated to use a chamber pot or outhouse."
"Well, I guess if that's all there was, you didn't think too much about it back then."
The second container of water went in then, and the boys watched with interest as Malachi busied himself getting things ready for the man's bath.
"In case you're wondering..." Malachi suddenly said, causing the two teens to jump, "I'm not fucking around with this old bastard. I'm not a whore."
"You can see us?" Jamie asked in shock.
"And hear us?" Dickie added, but the boy just looked away then as if he hadn't heard them or said anything himself.
"What the...holy hell?" Jamie screeched.
"Selective hearing, I guess," Dickie shrugged.
"I wonder if we're done here?" Jamie mused, and as if in answer to his question, the scene around them began to change, Malachi faded away, and the once gleaming metal of the water heating apparatus was now rusting and falling apart. The once pristine bathtub was now yellowed with age, a nasty pool of standing water filling the bottom, the smell almost unbearable.
"Ewww...that stinks," Dickie said holding his nose, "let's get out of here."
"I guess that answers my question," Jamie mused as he followed Dickie out of the room and into the dusty hall, "where to next? I wonder."
"Let's check out room six and see if there's any action there."
Remembering that touching door knobs of ghost rooms resulted in frozen fingers, Jamie wrapped his hand in the tail of his insulated jacket before grasping it. Even through the thick layer of cloth he could feel the cold, but only momentarily as he quickly threw the door open.
Inside, the room looked new and a luxurious, at least for that day and time. A big brass bed sat in front of double windows, both closed and the shades drawn low. Ornate kerosene lamps sat on delicate identical tables on each side of the bed, and a settee, desk and chair made up the rest of the furnishings.
At first the bed was empty, the floral quilt pulled up and tucked beneath two pillows with starched white muslin pillow cases covering them. Then, as the boys watched, the scene on the bed slowly began to change and the man from downstairs began to morph again as he had at the desk.
"He's baaack," Dickie giggled, but his giggles suddenly dried up when he saw that the man was now naked.
"Eww...gross," Jamie said making a face, "he's all hairy."
"And he has a tiny dick," Dickie noted.
"He looks dead," Jamie said looking concerned.
"Nah, he's asleep, listen, he's snoring."
"Yeah, I hear it now. I guess he likes to sleep naked, too."
"Like us, but at least we're sexy, and not a gorilla like this guy."
"Hmm, I wonder if that's just how men looked back then, before they started manscaping."
Dickie giggled, "Too bad we can't shave him while he's asleep, then watch as he goes nuts when he sees he's bald down there."
"Seriously, I don't want that job."
"No one does," a voice said from behind them, only this time it wasn't Malachi who spoke, yet both boys knew in an instant who the voice belonged to, it was Evan, Malachi's brother.
"Evan?" Jamie ventured, "where's your brother? We saw him earlier..."
"Hmm, busy, always busy. He works so hard, and I...I barely work at all. Unless you call pretending to like it when hairy old farts like this one are fondling me. But it pays well, and well...I guess I'm just a slut after all."
"You, you're one of the...?" Dickie began.
"Whores? You can say it," Evan chuckled, "the whole town knows it. My mother was a whore, and my father was a bastard who got himself killed in a train robbery. We came from scum, so we're scum, or at least that's what the townsfolk say."
"I don't believe that," Jamie said, "you have no control over who your parents are, or what they did."
"What else can we do?" Evan said looking tired.
"Well, it seems that whatever you did has already been done, long ago, and all we can do is talk about that. We can't change any of that, can we?"
Evan laughed, a cold laugh without any humor in it, "You're so right, my friend. I was a whore from the age of 10 till I got too old to interest the fine gentlemen who liked diddling little boys."
"And Malachi?"
"My brother chose a different path. He worked hard for what little money he made, and he never chastised me for what I did, but I could see that deep down inside it hurt him more than any blow that might be delivered to his young flesh."
"You stayed together all that time, though, right?"
"Oh yes, right up until the end. We lived together and we died together," Evan said sighing, "but...that was long ago, and we grow weary of reliving the past. We need to move on, and this time I hope you will help us do that."
"Then you do remember us?" Jamie asked.
"Yes, though you have grown and changed, and I sense you are closer now, just as my brother and I were, and still are to some degree."
Jamie blushed, "We've always been close, but yeah, this past couple years we've gotten closer."
"Good, your love for one another will help you to complete the task this time," Evan said smiling just a bit, "but time is wasting, and you have much to see before the night is over, so...I will go now. Go to the General Store now and see what awaits you there..." the words faded, even as the image faded, and suddenly Jamie and Dickie were alone, standing in an empty room, one now filled with dirt, debris, and rotting furniture and bedding.
"Gosh, these guys sure come and go fast," Dickie joked.
"I wonder what's at the General Store?" Jamie sighed, "Oh, well...I guess we'll soon find out. Come on, lover, let's go shopping," he added with a chuckle.
Gideon's General Store stood dark and deserted as the boys approached, and they'd begun to wonder what possible good going there would do. Then as Jamie threw open the door, things began to change. Light slowly filled the room as the insides of the store began to morph from dust and ruin to pristine condition as they must have been way back when the town was still alive and prosperous.
Jamie had to step aside as a young man dressed as a cowboy, complete with six gun at his side, bustled in through the open door. He wore jeans and leather chaps, a plaid flannel shirt, and a cowboy hat and boots completed his ensemble. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way, with skin tanned by hours and days in the sun and a smooth boyish face. Not even a mustache marred his handsome face, and Jamie began to wonder if he hadn't misjudged the man's age. Perhaps he was just a teenager, his weathered look due to the harsh life he lived.
The cowboy was of more interest than the other patrons, but Jamie began to notice the others as they moved about the store making selections. A woman who looked older than dirt carried a bolt of gingham checked material and what looked like a spool of thread to the counter and said something to the woman clerk, who smiled and took the bolt of material from her and went about measuring off a length of it for her.
An older man in overalls, who looked to be a farmer, perhaps, was looking through a rack filled with packets of what appeared to be seeds, though Jamie couldn't imagine why he'd be interested in such small quantities of seeds. That is until he got closer and saw that the selections he'd made were flower seeds, probably for the wife so she could beautify their home.
The invention of the shopping cart was many decades away, but some of the women carried hand baskets, while others just handed the clerk a list of needed items. The items were quickly gathered, the amount totaled up, and if necessary the items were wrapped in plain brown paper and tied up with string.
The clerk performed the task quickly and efficiently, and Jamie was amazed at how easy they made the task look. Mr. Gideon was not one of the clerks that day, and in his place a woman who appeared to be in her late 30's or early 40's, and a young man in his mid 20's manned the counter.
"I wonder where Mr. Gideon is?" Jamie finally commented.
Dickie shrugged, "Smoke break?" he chuckled.
Jamie laughed, too, "Or maybe he has some boy in the back showing him his hot dog," Jamie joked.
"Yeah," Dickie said grinning, "while his wife runs the store."
The cowboy had reached the counter now, and suddenly he drew the pistol from his holster and pointed it at the male clerk, "Give me all the money in the cash register, or else I shoot you both," he said trying to sound menacing, but Jamie thought he sounded just plain scared.
"We don't have that much cash on hand, son," the woman said calmly as if being held up was something she dealt with every day, "A lot of our customers charge their purchases till their crops come in..."
"Give me what you got," the cowboy said moving the gun back and forth between the two.
"Hold it right there," a voice came from somewhere behind the two clerks.
Jamie and Dickie then looked up to see Ike Gideon emerge from the back room, a shotgun pointed directly at the cowboy.
"One more move and I shoot. Ever seen what a double ought shotgun blast does to a body? They'll be a hole as big in your middle as your head. Now, lower the gun, son, and we'll talk..."
"The cowboy looked confused, but he was no idiot, shooting either of the clerks would only result in his being blown away with the shot gun, and he might be desperate, but he was no fool. Besides, killing wasn't in his nature, he'd just needed money and thought he could bluff his way through this.
"I...I didn't mean to. I wouldn't hurt anyone," the cowboy said laying the gun on the counter and holding both hands up in surrender.
Ike seemed to accept that the danger had passed and he lowered his gun, though he did instruct the male clerk to grab the pistol. Slowly the young man reached for the gun, his expression more at home on the face of someone picking up a poisonous snake.
"Now then, son, what's this all about? Don't you know better than to try to rob a general store? Ain't nothing here worth dyin' over. The bank would be a better place to try your luck. But I'm guessing you don't make a habit of goin' around robbin' folks, and you just got desperate and didn't know what you was a doin', am I right?"
"I...just...I needed some money, and...I wasn't gonna hurt no one, I swear..." the cowboy said, looking around nervously as the other patrons gazed on with a mixture of contempt and sympathy.
"Should I go get the Sheriff?" the farmer asked as he neared the counter, several packets of seeds in his hand.
"I don't think we need to bother the Sheriff with this, am I right, boy?"
"No sir. I'm sorry, sir," the cowboy said.
"Your ma wouldn't be too happy to know what you been up to," Ike said giving the cowboy an appraising look, "so maybe we can keep this between us for now."
"Yes sir, please don't tell my momma, she's not well these days and she needs me..."
"Is that why you done this lamebrained thing?" Ike asked looking serious now.
"She needs food..." the cowboy said lowering his head, "I can't find work, so..."
Ike smiled sadly, "Did you ever think of askin' for help, boy? Do you think the good people of this town would let you and your momma starve? No sir, right, Sarah?" he said addressing the woman behind the counter, who the boys assumed was his wife.
"Land sakes, no...that poor dear. We'll see to her, don't you worry, Rory," she said addressing the cowboy by name.
"But we don't want no charity..." the cowboy said, but his words trailed off. He knew he was beaten, and even if he didn't go to jail there wasn't much left for him to do except let them help.
"Now, what do you need, boy...flour, beans, coffee, sugar? You tell Sarah and she'll fix you up. And meantime, don't go trying to rob the folks that got your back."
"Wow, that was totally unexpected, but what did that have to do with anything?" Dickie said frowning.
"I don't know, besides proving that Ike is a pretty good guy, even if he likes little boys," Jamie chuckled.
"Maybe that's why little boys like him, cause he's nice to them," Dickie suggested.
"Yeah, I wonder though, did Ike ever...you know? get with Evan?"
"Oh wow, hadn't thought of that. That would explain a few things, I guess."
"We're still here, so something else must be gonna happen," Jamie said as he stood staring at a barrel of apples and wondering if the ones on bottom were rotten by now.
Just then a familiar figure hurried in the front door, gun drawn, but when he saw nothing out of the ordinary going on he frowned and holstered his pistol.
"What's goin' on? I heard someone was tryin' to rob the store," Sheriff Eugene Jenkins said with a confused look.
"Ain't no robber here, is there folks?" Ike said as he finished wrapping up the groceries for the young cowboy.
"Well, what the heck is goin' on then, some kids came runnin' over sayin' they seen the whole thing from outside..."
"Since when did you start believing the word of those little urchins?" Ike laughed, "I bet they're laughin' their tails off about now."
The Sheriff looked flustered, but he knew Ike was right, couldn't trust a kid to tell the truth, and he'd been duped, once again.
"Well, long as I'm here, might as well get some tobaccy," he said pulling out a nickle, "give me a nickel's worth."
Once the sheriff was gone, things began to change. The morphing was slower this time, the figures and store fixtures shimmering before finally beginning to fade. The last thing the two boys remembered seeing was the cowboy shaking hands with Ike Gideon as he clutched his package tightly to his chest.
Once again the store lay in ruins around the boys, the characters from long ago now only distant memories. The boys were a bit stunned at the reality that what they'd just witnessed had taken place so long ago, but the message seemed clearer now. The town wasn't evil, only a few individuals were.
"Saloon?" Dickie said, pulling Jamie from his thoughts.
"Huh, oh...yeah, probably, but let's stop by the Jeep and grab a pop, "I'm thirsty."
The cooler held four more cans of soda and two bottles of Gatorade, but both boys opted for a Mountain Dew, depending on the caffeine boost to get them through whatever lay ahead. As they leaned against the Jeep, thinking their thoughts and drinking their Dew, they were suddenly aware of a sound coming from just down the street.
At first it was soft and indistinguishable, but as it continued it got louder till they realized it was the unmistakable sound of a rinky-tink piano being played.
"Geeze, I've heard that tune played in old western movies and on TV, but I never knew it was real," Jamie said shaking his head.
"So, now there's a piano player?" I wonder if he knows 'Piano Man' by Billy Joel?" Dickie laughed.
"A bit after his time," Jamie chuckled, "but we could teach him a thing or two if he's willing."
Both boys had taken piano lessons for a few years and had continued to play as a hobby, but sports seemed more important to both boys than music. However, they were still quite good, and both had learned to play a decent version of that particular song, each adding their own unique style to it.
Finishing their sodas, the two boys crushed the cans and added them to the two they'd thrown in the back earlier.
"Well, I guess it's off to the Branch Water Saloon," Jamie said then, "I wonder if the red-haired gal is still there."
"Hey, I was just remembering something," Dickie said blushing a bit, "remember when we found that couple, that boy and girl at the hotel, and what happened to us afterwards?"
"Yeah," Jamie said blushing as well, "we shot our loads all at once without even touching our dicks."
"Yeah, weird, but it was...good, right?"
"Well, I have to admit, up until then it was the best come I ever had, but since then I've had some pretty good ones," Jamie said grinning at Dickie.
Dickie grinned back, "Yeah, me too."
The music grew louder as they approached the saloon, and not surprisingly it appeared they were seeing things as they'd been in the past. The swinging doors creaked a bit as they pushed them aside, and inside the piano music was accompanied by voices and laughter from at least a dozen patrons, most of them lined up at the bar swigging whisky or beer.
The piano player was a young man, perhaps in his early 20's, and he was dressed in black slacks, a white shirt, and burgundy vest. He had no facial hair, and the mop of black hair on his head was slicked back in the fashion of that day.
The tune he'd been playing morphed into something familiar, but it wasn't until the young man began to sing that they recognized the song, Piano Man.
"It's nine o'clock on a Saturday, the regular crowd rushes in, there's an old man sittin' next to me, makin' love to his tonic and gin..."
"Oh my God, how...?" Dickie said, his eyes bugging practically out of his head.
"I don't know... I suppose anything is possible though. Maybe the ghosts can read our minds."
"I hope not, my thoughts aren't always pure," Dickie joked.
"Neither are theirs, or should I say...weren't?"
The young man turned to them as they approached and sang, "And the manager gives me a smile. For he knows that it's me they been coming to see...to forget about life for awhile...oh...da da...de de da.... Everyone, sing along..."Sing us a song, you're the piano man..."
And Dickie and Jamie suddenly found themselves singing along with a young piano player who had probably been dead for nearly a hundred years. And the most amazing part was that the song they were singing wouldn't be written for that long as well.
"La...la...la...la tee da...sing us a song, you're the piano man, sing us a song, tonight, for we're all in the mood for a melody, and you've got us feelin' all right..."
The young singer had changed some of the words around and changed the order a bit, but Dickie and Jamie found it easy to follow along, almost as if they had rehearsed the song before hand. The song ended and Jamie and Dickie expected the crowd to erupt in cheers and cat calls, but instead it actually grew quieter.
Then suddenly the piano player faded away and the silence seemed to suck the air from the room. For the first time since coming back to the town Jamie and Dickie felt afraid, and they found themselves backing up toward the door, only to be stopped by the red haired saloon gal.
"Where ya goin', boys? The night's just beginnin'."
"You, I um, remember you..." Jamie said.
"You've grown some, suga'," I bet you're real popular with the ladies now," she chuckled, then as her smile changed into a leer, she added, "Or should I say, lads?"
Both boys blushed, but Dickie recovered quickly. These were just shadows of what once was, and they couldn't hurt them, so why take any shit off them? he thought angrily.
"So, what if it is? Actually, we're boyfriends. Got a problem with that?"
The saloon gal smiled, genuinely this time, "No suga', to each his own. Now, why don't you go on up to the room with the red door, someone is waitin' for you there."
"The red door," Jamie muttered, "that's where..."
"Yeah, but that hasn't happened yet, has it?" Dickie asked, but the saloon gal had moved behind the bar and seemed oblivious of the two boys now.
"Well, we've come this far. We might as well see who, or what is waiting for us..."
"I Guess, what's the worst that can happen, we die?" Dickie joked, but neither boy laughed.
The stairs were carpeted and the dust accumulated over the years stirred as the boys plodded up them. The hallway looked the same as it had three years before, but this time they knew exactly where they were going. To the last room on the right, the one with the red door. The room where Malachi and Evan had met their fate by killing the two cowboys.
"If this is the same timeline as in the hotel, and if it's the brothers we're gonna meet, then they'll only be like...our age, maybe...right?" Dickie reasoned.
"Yeah, but who knows if that's the case, or not? It seems like the ghosts can show us any timeline they want."
"Only one way to find out, I guess..." Dickie said leading the way down the hall to the last door.
"I got this," Jamie said using the tail of his jacket to shield his hand from the cold of the ghostly doorknob.
The door opened easily, revealing a soft glow from inside. As Jamie pushed the door open wider, the boys could see the bed coming into view, and tangled up in the covers and each other were two naked forms, but decidedly male.
One was unmistakably that of Evan, and the other was...a young man probably twice the boy's age.
"You kiss as good as any gal I ever been with," the young man said sighing.
"I'm a better lay, too," Evan giggled.
"That, my friend, is true, even if it's unnatural," he chuckled.
"What's unnatural about having fun?"
"Oh, nothing, I guess, but the good folks at the church would burn us at the stake ifn' they could see us now."
"I got news for you, Zeke, some of the men from the church are my steady customers," Evan laughed, "includin' the preacher himself."
"You don't say," Zeke chuckled, "Can't say I blame him, his wife is a bit of a cow."
"You should go, Zeke," Evan said sitting up and giving the boys a good view of his boyhood charms.
"I know, you got someone else a comin', well...I bet they don't fuck as good as me," the cowboy teased.
"No one does, Zeke," Evan assured him, "but a boy has to eat, and I need the money."
"You know I'd pay you twice if I could, but this'll have to do for now," he said digging in the pockets of his jeans and thrusting forth a handful of change.
"This is fine, just fine," Evan assured him, "I'd do it with you for free if I could. You're the kindest of all my men friends."
"I bet you say that to all of them," Zeke teased as he stole one last kiss from the handsome boy, "I'll try to get back this way next week, okay?"
"I hope so, I'll miss you."
"Bullshit," the young cowboy scoffed, but he gave the boy an affectionate hug before standing to get dressed.
Now the boys could see the cowboy in all his glory as well, and they were not only impressed but also a bit aroused. A long penis hung down, the sheath of foreskin covering it making it appear longer, but it was apparent the cowboy was well endowed. His hairy balls were huge as well, and no doubt capable of producing copious amounts of jizz. His body was lean and muscled and he bore the scars of years of wrangling and farming, despite his tender age of only 22.
Evan remained naked as he walked the cowboy to the door, and with one last kiss, Zeke exited the room. For a moment his footsteps could be heard receding down the hall, then it was quiet once more.
"Like what you saw?" Evan said as he sat upon the bed, rolling a cigarette.
"Huh, you can see us?" Jamie stammered.
"Of course. He's not like that, you know? He doesn't like little boys, he...he just gets lonely, that's all."
"He seems to like you a lot," Jamie offered.
"He likes what I give him. I make him feel good."
"I bet," Dickie chuckled.
Evan lit the cigarette, took a drag off it, then blew out a smoke ring that looked almost ghostly.
"You must know how that feels," Evan said eying Dickie, the humor in his voice obvious.
"Yeah, but I can admit I like boys, and I don't have to pretend like that cowboy does."
"I don't think he's pretending. I think he knows what he wants, but until he can find it, I'll do just fine."
"That's kind of sad," Jamie said frowning, "don't you feel bad about being used like that?"
"Used? I'm well paid for my time," Evan said, "and besides, most times I enjoy what I do ."
"But not always. I'm sure some of your...uh, customers, aren't as hot as Zeke."
"Most are not, but most are pleasant and pay me well. The life of a whore isn't always easy, but it can be profitable."
"I don't see you getting rich," Dickie scoffed, "your brother works hard for his money, don't you feel bad for him?"
"No, because one of us had to do what I do, and I'd rather it be me than him. He isn't as tough as I am, and he's better suited to menial labor."
Jamie frowned, "Why are we here? I mean, why this room, right now? We already know this part of the story..."
"You will see," Evan said, just as a knock came upon the door.
"Enter," Evan said, his eyes practically glowing as he watched the door open slowly.
Jamie and Dickie swung around just in time to see a familiar face as Sheriff Jenkins sauntered in. Both boys' mouths dropped open in surprise, but it was obvious the man could not see them. And in fact, Evan seemed oblivious of them as well as they watched the scene unfold.
"You don't think...? Oh, my god, gross...he's all fat and hairy," Dickie said looking ready to puke at any moment as the Sheriff began to undress.
"You sure you can't get that brother of yours to join us? I'd pay double, heck, even triple."
"No, I do not want my brother to sell his body as I do. We have discussed this before, and the answer will always be, No!"
"Okay, okay, don't get all riled up, that pretty little butt of yours will have to do. But first: suck on my pecker and get it hard for me..."
"Gross, gag...ewwww," Dickie said looking pale, "this is shear torture having to watch this. And what good is knowing the Sheriff is a pervert, too?"
"Not just the Sheriff," Evan said, "most of the men in this town are hypocrites."
Jamie started to reply, but it was obvious the boy was out of touch with them again as he began servicing the fat hairy body before him.
"Let's get out of here," Dickie yelped as he headed for the door, and both boys were pleased when it opened easily, allowing them to tumble out into the hallway.
"Gag, puke, ewww...I will never be able to get that image out of my head. I feel so sorry for Evan now. I mean, at least with the cowboy, he was good looking and sexy, but the Sheriff...gag, puke..."
"Okay, I get it. I'm not too happy about seeing that either, but it served a purpose, don't you see? The Sheriff, and maybe lots of men in the town used Evan for sex, and yet they condemned both the brothers as sinners and were all too eager to hang them when all they did was defend themselves against the cowboys who were gonna rape them."
"Well, not exactly self defense, but I get what you mean. Evan said it was a town of hypocrites."
"Yeah, sounds familiar, sort of like the assholes who're running our country now," Jamie said making a face.
"Whoa, let's not get into politics right now, we have some problems of our own to work out. Like, what's next, and how can we help Malachi and Evan find peace?"
"Yeah, I get it. Okay, well...I guess we go back downstairs and see if there are any more clues as to what to do next."
But before they could leave the hallway, the unmistakable sound of crying alerted them to someone's presence in the room closest to them. Listening for a moment, the boys finally crept toward the door and Jamie used his coat tail to turn the knob and push it open.
The crying grew louder, and as the door opened wider they saw Malachi laying upon the bed, still wearing his bellhop outfit, his pillow hugged tight as he cried as if his heart had been broken.
"Hey," Jamie said soothingly, unsure whether the boy on the bed could hear him or not, "What's wrong? Is it about...about Evan?"
"Ye...yess," the boy sobbed, "I love him so much, and yet I must share him with those dirty men."
"Yeah, that sucks," Dickie offered as he sat upon the bed. He wanted to reach out and touch the boy and try to soothe him, but he wasn't sure if that was allowed or even possible.
"You are kind to want to help me, but no one can."
"But you have his heart," Jamie said, surprising himself at how insightful that bit of information was.
Malachi sighed, "Yes, he loves no one but me, but I cry each time he must lay with one of those men and sacrifice his beautiful body for money."
"Yeah, I can see why you'd be upset. Have you tried talking to him about it?" Jamie asked.
"Of course, but he says we must have the money, and that it's the easiest way to earn it."
"Where do you guys live? Here in the saloon?"
"Yes, the saloon takes it's share of the money and we have our room here, and that one he uses for his business."
"So this is your room?"
"Yes, for now..."
The door burst open then, and in came Evan, now fully dressed. He took one look at Malachi and Jamie upon the bed, then shut the door and headed their way.
Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.
[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]
* Some browsers may require a right click instead
