"Aurora Borealis"

The lady that's known as... Lou

Lou stood quietly looking at the faces of the folk in the Aurora; some happy, some sad, some downright full of despair. These were the faces of men and women who came here with grandiose dreams of striking it rich. Some had done well while others... Well, they hadn't fared quite as well. Yet. There was always tomorrow.

Thunder boomed in the distance, the sound of rain coming down in torrents and the fire crackling in the huge fireplace taking the chill out of the crisp early spring evening... Pouring down. Leaking through a crack in the roof that pa kept promising to fix. Drip... drip... drip... Her thoughts turned back to the day when she first made the decision to take a chance on getting some of the tons of gold and silver that had been discovered in the north.

Last trip into town, there was talk of gold. Gold just laying on the ground for anyone to pick up by the handfuls. Men and women both were going north to Canada to make their fortunes, not knowing if they would ever come back. Nor caring. Some in search of adventure, others just plain desperate for a chance at a better life.

Her ma had raised four girls with sore little help from pa. Not a one of them had prospect of a marriage that would take them from the brink of near-poverty that they so desperately clung to. Now pa lay on his deathbed. What would come of them now?

Lou turned to take a long hard look at her mother. Her face was lined from years of working outdoors in all weather, though she thought most were from worrying. She brushed her cheek gently, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Ma? We have to talk."

"Good Lord, Lou! Can't be anything but trouble when I see that look come on your face. What is it you're planning? As if it matters what I think. You'll do exactly as you please anyhow. Best just blurt it all out at once and get it over with."

"Ma. I'm leaving tomorrow for the north country. I'm gonna strike it rich. I have just as good a chance as anyone else. I can't stay here anymore waiting to see if the next crop will fail. Or worry where the next meal will come from if that happens. I can't bear to hear you crying in the night. You thought I didn't know? I do. And I am going. With or without your blessing. I am going."

"Yes, Lou. I can see that you are." Standing stiffly from where she sat by the fire knitting, ma walked over to the cupboard and pulled down her silver coffee pot. The one she got from her own ma and kept her money in for a rainy day. Emptying it out on the kitchen table, she looked up at her eldest daughter and smiled. "Well, girl. It's as rainy a day as it's ever going to be. You best be taking this to get you through until you make your fortune."

Wrapping her arms tightly around her ma, Lou brushed a stray tear from her cheek. "I'll send this back a thousand fold, ma. You'll see. Now I have to go pack my things. The sun will be coming up sooner than I want it to as is."

By the time Lou got out here she was down to her last fifty cents. Fifty cents wasn't gonna make her or break her. She threw it into the river and headed into town. Never looking back. Never regretting.

A clap of thunder brought her back to the Aurora Borealis and the sound of Tapp's piano and Dan's booming voice singing one of his favorite songs. That Dan! Shaking her head and smiling broadly, Lou walked over to him and Frenchie to pour them another round.

Tonsillitis Jones


Tonsillitis Jones carefully led the hackneyed mule through the torrential rains. Blazing blue flashes illuminated the trail then blinded in their absence. The echoing roar of the thunder pounding on the ears. The mule danced at the lead, but Tonsillitis held firm. This load was going through.

The load was ponderous, but by God it would be the last. The fire of the bush madness burned deeply, and the mule felt the keen sting of the leather often. Mud holes and deep running waters, each traversed cautiously, and in the distance, hopefully before nightfall was the town, a hot meal, and a dry bed.

Tonsillitis had trouble remembering being dry, or warm, for that matter. When the weather even looked like it was getting warm, those dang black flies and Satan's mosquitoes tore the flesh from your bones, and the incessant whine of the deer flies was enough to drive anyone insane. The only salvation from hell's own spawn was the bitter cold, a cold that dug deep into the bones and held fast. The water was cold, the air was cold, the gold was cold, and in time the people were cold too. A strange soulless cold wedged into the heart, a cold so firmly entrenched that no fire would ever burn hot enough to thaw.

Ahead, the saloon and shelter. Behind, the dead body of Lars Lindquist. Tonsillitis was amazed by that. The body half in Patterson's creek, and half on the shore. Three clear holes in the back, and the gun just lying there on the ground. Who ever shot Lars sure did not want to get away with it.

Tonsillitis was certain who it was too. There was only one man with a gun like that in the whole territory, and that man was...

No doubt the law would be quick as always, and there would be a hanging before next winter. Tonsillitis would hang around just long enough to see that.

Crazy George

George had been mining his claim for around two years, he only knew this from the calendar in the assay office, he knew when he’d started and had seen the date on his last visit. When he’d first started he’d been held up by outlaws as he headed for town, they’d opened his saddle bags on his mule and scattered his hard earned gold on the floor before laughing and leaving him to collect his gold again. This had happened two or three times as he could remember, after that they would check his bags laugh and leave him to carry on. Now a days they’d see him and shout hello waving to him and then ride away, occasionally they’d even stop and talk to him before leaving.

He’d checked his supplies the night before and knew it was time to return to town for more, he had no idea how long it was since he was last in town but he knew that he only had supplies for himself and his mule for two or three days. His saddle bags were full of his gold, he hoped that the assay office would give him something like what it was worth this time. He only ever seemed to get enough money to spend a few days in town and purchase enough supplies to last him five or six weeks.

The Aurora would be home for a couple of days when he arrived, although he knew everybody in town called him Crazy George he always seemed to be welcome at the Aurora. Lou was always nice to him making sure he had a cosy room and his mule was well looked after. The girls in the bar would even spend time with him chatting during the evening when things went a little quiet, his escapes from solitude were always enjoyable there.

The barman always had time to talk with his stories about his days between serving his many customers, he was quite looking forward to having a few drinks in the bar. He never had any drink around his claim he’d heard too many stories of prospectors getting drunk and falling down a cliff so he stayed sober while mining.

He set off in the pouring rain knowing it would be two days before he reached town, but he’d spent so much time in all weathers that the rain didn’t bother him one bit. He stopped at his usual place the first night, removing the bags of gold from his mule and keeping them safe near himself, but nothing disturbed him during the night. The following day turned out brighter but he could tell by the clouds that it would rain again before nightfall, It was just starting again as he reached Carmack.

The assay office was still open so George visited there first and again didn’t get what he thought his gold was worth, but he had enough for what he needed for now. He stabled his mule in the Aurora stables, giving the stable lad a couple of cents to look after him properly as he normally did. With that George headed for the bar to say hello to Lou, and arrange his lodgings for a couple of days.

Anna DeSilva

Anna blew an incorrigible wisp of hair from her face and sighed, the heat from the stoves had brought a rosy flush to her cheeks and a thin sheen of sweat to her brow as she worked. It hardly seemed nine months since she had arrived in Carmack. Where had the time gone?

Like everyone else, Anna thought she was going to 'strike it rich' in Yukon Territory. High ambitions for a simple Italian girl from Syracuse, New York. She had come over with her eldest brother and his family. They had eight children and the tiny house was crowded, to say the least. Anna had begun to feel like an intruder in what was meant to be her home.

When she had read about the gold strike, Anna knew this was an opportunity of a lifetime. Packing what few belongings she had, she took the coward's way out and left a note, sneaking away in the middle of the night.

The journey had been long and hard, but she had arrived in Carmack after months of travel not much worse for the wear. She took a room at Monroe House, got cleaned up and went in search of work. Senora Hanna had suggested the Aurora Borealis, and that was her first stop. And last.

They were looking for girls. Puttana. Could she? Dare she? The pay was good. Perhaps until she found something 'better'? There just didn't seem much else for her to do and Anna agonized over the decision for days. Perhaps just until she earned enough to do something else... Anna chuckled at her ingenuità.

It had been a disaster from the start. She had fled in tears from her first appointment. The man had been kind, but she had been so nervous that she was sick all over him. Not the best way to entertain a customer.

Miss Lou had been more than understanding and took Anna under her wing, offering a job as chambermaid. She had quickly proven her worth when the cook had fallen ill and now she ran the kitchen as well as overseeing the housekeeping and the staff Miss Lou employed 'behind the scenes'. Life was good for Anna DeSilva, even if a little lonely.

Tad Merriweather

Tad stood by the road, his Kentucky long rifle slung across his arms, and looked down the muddy, rutted street into the town. ‘Carmack’, he had heard someone call it. It wasn’t what he had expected, not like the town back home, five miles from the farm. The farm that he had run away from, where his family still was. His Pa had bought the land ten years ago and all that Tad knew was to work the land and hunt. How to plow the fields, plant corn, harvest it, and shoot deer. It was the shooting that had sustained Tad’s life as he had made his way to the Yukon. It was the drive for adventure that had caused him to leave the farm. He had read, with his Ma’s help, about the Yukon, and the gold rush. It was his Ma that had taught him to read and write, even though he wasn’t a good at either he reckoned he knew enough to get by.

It had been on the weekly, ‘going to church Sunday’ that he had found the paper, lying on a bench in the town square. He had been sitting there trying to read it when Becky Hampton had sat down beside him. He liked Becky, she just made him all flustered and confused and befuddled his mind so he didn’t know what he was thinking. He had asked his Ma about Becky, why she did that to him. Ma replied that sometimes girls just did that to young boys. But not to worry, someday he would marry and he would do what comes naturally. He had no idea what that meant, but he trusted his Ma.

He heard music coming from a building down the street. He tried to read the sign on the building:

“Aur … Aurora Bor … Aurora Bore …,” he said to himself, aloud, trying to pronounce the words.

“Aurora Borealis,” a stranger said, passing by. “Means Northern Lights, a good place to stay away from,” he added, heading down the street.

Maybe I could git me a job there, Tad thought to himself. If’in I’m going to be a prospector, I reckon I’ll be need’n some money to get started.

He walked down to the Aurora Borealis, stopped at the swinging doors, and looked in. After a moment of indecision he entered and went to the bar, looking for someone who might be in charge.

Tad

Tad had never been inside a saloon before. They had one back home but his Pa had never allowed him inside. He had peeked in the windows on occasion, but had never seen anything like this place had. Loud piano playin and foot stompin, full of men drinking whiskey, he guessed, and smokin. And the ladies, Lordy, he had never seen anything like that before either. All painted up and smellin like flowers or something. And them dresses they wore, why he could see clean up past their knees, and half their bosoms was bout to fall out.

He backed up tight against the bar as one of the ladies walked past him, running her hand across his broad chest.

“Hi handsome,” she said, smiling up at him. “Looking for a good time?”

“Ah…ah hi ma’am,” he stammered, blushing full red. Whipping his felt hat off, remembering to be courteous, and crushing it in his hand. “Ah no ma’am, I’m just lookin fer a job.”

“To bad,” she replied. “A strong healthy, young man like yourself could probably go all night.”

“Yes ma’am, me and Pa sometimes picked corn all night durin harvest season.” He said proudly.

“I’ll bet you did,” she smirked, as she patted his chest, then turned and walked away.

Just then, the music changed, and everybody stopped to listen. It was no longer the rowdy, cheery kind of music that tended to jar the nerves. This was music that made you want to stop and listen. It reminded Tad of the hymns that Mrs. Bigalow played back at the church, only better. Tad stood there and listens, until he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He spied a young woman dragging a heavy bag of flour across the floor. She wasn’t dressed like the other women, so he guessed her to be working here. He rushed over to help her.

“’Pardon me ma’am,” he said, grabbing the heavy bag. “But a lady aughtin have to tote such a heavy weight.”

He leaned his Kentucky rifle against the wall, easily tossing the 100lb bag over his shoulder, grabbed his rifle, and headed for the kitchen door.

“My names Tad ma’am, Tad Merriwether” he stated. “Do you work here? I was hopin to get a job here too, but I don’t know who the boss man is. Do you know who the boss man is, ma’am? My Pa says I’m strong as an ox … and just as dumb.” He laughed at his joke. “Ma says I aint dumb, I just aint had no book learnin, ‘cept what she taught me. I can read and write some, but can’t do no ciphers. Were you wantin this flour ma'am?”

Doc Plimsoll

This was a town of corners. Muddy corners, muddy people.

Duckboards had sunk in the mud, Main Street had shifted every few weeks to where the newcomers were but there was always the Aurora: on some corner or other, but always at the centre.

Phil "Doc" Plimsoll let Magic step his cautious way through the mud. The stallion dragged the small wagon towards the stables as if by homing instinct. The Doc wondered if this was the usual state of what passed for a street; not that it mattered - if need be he could use a soap box on one of the other corners, the raised wooden walkways.

He'd surely raise a crowd and he'd sell his elixir (as endorsed by Doc Holliday himself) sure fire cure for...He scratched his dark stubble and lifted his top-hatted head, stopping rehearsing his patter in his mind and let his sea-blue eyes look around.

There she was, just like he'd been told. The Aurora. The sound of piano music, the scent of cooking, of alcohol, the laughter of girls. Yes, girls. He wasn't sure which he needed more - money or a girl.

Doc grinned to himself. Yessir, there was money in them thar hills - and easier ways of extracting it than by pick and shovel. He adjusted his dark, greasy jacket and jumped down from the wagon, pulling the mud spattered canvas covering his stock straight.

"Plimsoll's Pure Pharmacy," the canvas proclaimed.

The words said it all.

Anna DeSilva

Anna could hold her own when it came to hauling things, but it was a relief nonetheless when the tall drink of water grabbed the sack of flour and hefted it over his shoulder like it was a mere feather bed. Most men in Carmack worked claims and both she and Lou had been hard put to find one interested in doing odd jobs around the Aurora. Maybe this was their lucky day.

"Mille grazie. Avanti." She cocked her head in the direction of the kitchen, her mind going a mile a minute. "Can you build things, Tad? And fix them when they break?"

"Ma'am. The things I build don't need no fixin'." He replied matter-of-factly and Anna grinned in response, following the young man through the door. Yes, this definitely was their lucky day.

"The boss man's name is Lou, Tad. Miss Lou. And I think you just got yourself a job."

"Stew's hot and the biscuits just came out of the oven," she called over her shoulder to anyone who was listening as she passed through.

Maggie Sarlinska

It was early in the day, and there were only a few customers in the Aurora. Maggie was sitting at the bar having drink, thinking about how lucky she was to be here. Today was the 7th anniversary of the cave in that killed her fiance. She thought her life had ended that day....and it nearly did. She spent the next few weeks simply existing, going from one odd job to the next. She had been sweeping a storefront to earn lunch when she stopped to watch one of Miss Lou's girls walk down the street. She was wearing a beautiful gown and a carefree smile. Arm in arm with a tall prospector, Maggie could hear her laugh echo down the street. She dropped her broom and went straight to Miss Lou. Miss Lou had been so gracious, questioning the 18 year old girl as to if she really knew what the job required, and if she were really up to doing it. Maggie asured her she was willing. She smoothed the royal blue silk of the gown she was wearing. Now she wore beautiful gowns and a carefree smile. She had never regretted her decision.

Maggie asked the barkeep for another drink. She saw George came into the Aurora. "Hey George," she said, motioning for a drink for him. "Any luck this time out?"

Crazy George

“I thought that I’d done well but the guys at the assay office thought differently,” George replied with a smile. “I sometimes think that they’re short changing me because they think I’m crazy,” he added with a laugh accepting the drink that Maggie had ordered for him.

“Thanks for the drink,” he said as he took a swig and cleared the road dust out of his throat. “I’ll buy you one or two later,” he told her as he relaxed for a while in her company. Maggie like Lou didn’t act as if he was crazy like everybody else in the town so he was happy to drink with her and pass a few stories although some were exaggerations.

“I’ve got to see Lou about my room and then I need a bath before I’ll be fit company for you,” he explained to her as he now sipped his drink putting off the time when he’d have to go for his bath. He knew that Lou always found somewhere for him to spend a couple of days even if it was in the hay loft over the stable and after all he slept in worse places out at his mine.

As he looked around George could see Lou over by the piano and as she looked his way he waved to her and smiled hoping that she’d come over to him so that he wouldn’t have to leave Maggie just yet the two women were probably the most friendly towards him in the town.

Maggie smiled at George. She knew most of the town's folk thought he was crazy, but she liked him. He always treated her with respect, not like some of the others. The women would barely speak to her, and the men said things that didn't bare repeating.

"Well now, George," she purred, "I know how much you hate to take a bath. Want me to scrub your back?" She smiled at him and sipped her drink as he looked at her. "Don't worry. I'm just kidding," she said. "But I do expect to collect on that dance you promised me last time you were here."

Tonsillitis Jones

The lights in the town of Carmack lit the way for Tonsillitis. The rain still fell in buckets and the mule was growing slower, but the bush (most importantly) lay far behind. Tonsillitis smiled, the thought of warmth was very appealing.

Heading to the stables to stash the mule for the night, Tonsillitis saw the fine horse tethered outside the Aurora. No other than one of the NWMP rode such a fine beast. A smile came to the face of the diminutive sourdough. The thought of a Mountie, the one whose gun lay beside Lars and a goodly stretch of rope was very warming to the soul.

With the mule stowed, Tonsillitis headed to the Aurora, a nice warm beverage, and the entertainment of a life time. Unless you happened to be Lars Lindquist, and at that thought Tonsillitis smiled and laughed in that very peculiar sounding voice.

Frenchie Silverheels

Frenchie moved around the common room; sitting on this lap, nuzzling that neck, planting a kiss on the other's mouth... All the while making sure that glasses were full and the customers thought they were happy. Happy customers meant good business as Lou was quick to point out when she first came to work at the Aurora.

Of course she noticed the stranger as he headed for the poker table. Now that was the kind of man she was looking for. Couldn't blame a girl. She was only half-teasing when she walked over to him and draped her hand seductively over his oh-so-broad shoulder.

"You look très triste, chere. What's the matter? Someone give you the brush off? I'm available for the night and never say no -- if you can pay what I'm asking for. How about drowning your sorrows in me? I'm cheaper than getting drunk and more... satisfying." Frenchie giggled deliciously, sashaying away without waiting for an answer. She knew better than to disrupt a sober man when he was in a gamblin' mood.

The offer tendered, she sidled up to a top-hatted man who was leaning against the bar, taking in all the new faces. "Bonjour, Monsieur. Je suis Frenchie," she breathed huskily. "What is your pleasure this evening? Perhaps I might be of... assistance?". After all, a drink is a drink and a man is a man, be he a French duke offering a Paris apartment to a spoiled mistress or a prospector offering a drink and a bit of gold in exchange for a night's entertainment upstairs.

With a wink and a toss of her carefully coiffed head, she linked her arm through his and led him toward a table. "Every man must take his ease. The air is chill outside, chere. You will need some warming up from that first, I think? And perhaps a different kind of warming up after."

Crazy George

George smiled at Maggie. “You certainly know how to build a guys hopes and then knock them down,” he told her with a laugh. “You offer to scrub my back in the tub when I know you’d have to get out of those fine clothes to stop them getting wet. Then you tell me that you were only joking,” he added still laughing.

“You’ll get a few drinks and a dance later, but first it’s a bath and a room in either order then I can relax and you can tell me what’s been happening around town while I’ve been away,” he said by now his laugh had diminished to a big smile.

He needed to talk to Lou and organise his room for the next couple of days then he could relax and enjoy Maggie’s company. He also realised that he could do with a good meal before he did anything else knowing that the drink would go to his head without food in his belly.

“What’s Anna got on the menu?” he asked turning to the barman. “Doesn’t matter I’ll have whatever she’s got and the same for Maggie if she wants to eat with me,” he added as he knew that Anna’s food was always good.

“Well what have you been doing while I’ve been away?” he asked Maggie while they waited for the food to arrive.

"I'd love to eat dinner with you, George," Maggie replied, smiling. "And you know i would scrub your back" she added with a wink. She motioned the bar tender for another round.

"Actually, I've been working on my novel," Maggie said as she finished the glass in front of her, ice clinking as she sat it down. When she had migrated to Canada from Poland with her grandparents, it had been her job to keep the youngest ones occupied, and she had become quite adapt at spinning yarns. She had always known a career as a barmaid could only last so long, and at 27 she was the oldest of Miss Lou's girls. Maggie had been collecting stories from her clients since almost the first day she came to work, knowing one day people outside the territory would devour anything telling of the 'romantic' lifestyle of the prospector.

"I'm so glad you are here. I'm kind of stuck on my newest character," maggie continued. I based him on that New Yorker you told me about last time you were in town, but I just don't think I have his vocabulary correct. I was hoping you would have some spare time to take a look and help me remember some of those quaint phrases you said he was always using." Maggie smiled her coyest smile and batted her eyes, "You can spare a girl a few precious moments of your time, can't you?"

The piano player Leon Numb

-Leon Numb a piano player and a lady killer by Charm and good looks with his Talent he was the ultamate romancer on The piano and could charm the Coldest of hearts...his looks were very distinguishable.. short cut blonde hair with a Black Gentlemens hat on his head. A white shirt with a black vest a pair of black slacks and black walking shoes for the moment. he always kept a 6 shooter by his side incase any one were to hurt him his eyes icy blue like the sky. Ant one he played for loved it and he always got- " Play it again Leon"
-and he would he took requests in a out of the way joint called the Good times saloon. he was sick of it but where would he go why would they bother to pay him more then he had now, he was a kid and no one would take him seriously no matter what he was playing.

-A few ladies ask for his hand in relationship but he wasnt intrested he played for them and they danced that was it but they only did that and only that. Leon took his break and got to the bar ordering a Double Strong Hot Chocolate kind of drink with Coffee in it he sits by the piano and Sips it gently taking his time he earned it and deserved a lil R&R after pulling 9 Straight hours and he still had 4 to go-
"They dont even feed me i only get one break for one drink i need to eat when i get home."-he said upsetly and Looks to the ground-"Fuck them if i only had a better job God almighty send me a sign that there is something out there for me"-he steps back up to his piano and begins to lightly warm up for his next rounds in a low key so no one could here it for the moment-

“Oh, thank ye ma’am,” Tad replied, grinning ear to ear. Still holding the huge bag of flour on his shoulder, with little effort.

“Aint Lou, I mean, Miss Lou, kinda funny name fer a lady?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “She aint one of them there painted ladies is she? Not that I’d mind, ya understand, I’m just grateful to git a job.”

Tad’s stomach was starting to growl. He hadn’t eaten since he’d killed the rabbit two days ago. He looked around, hoping to spy something to eat. He would have asked permission first and done some work for his food, but he was getting very hungry.

“Ma’am,” he said, his eyebrows coming together. “Where you want this here bag a flour? It’s startin to git a might heavy."

“Say,” He asked seriously, “you aint fixin to make biscuits or flapjacks with this here flour are ya. I’m gittin a powerful holler spot here in my belly.”

He leaned his rifle against the table and gently laid the huge bag of flour down as if it were baby.

“Ma’am,” he said apologetically, whipping his hat off his head again. “I’m sorry, but I didn't git yer name.”

“Anna,” she answered, in her sweet Italian accent, smiling up at him. “My name is Anna.”

“Miss Anna, it sure is a pleasure to meet ya,” he grinned down at her, extending his big hand to take hers. “Ya got some firewood or som’um I could carry in fer ya?”

Tad really wasn’t interested in carrying in any firewood at the moment. He found he like this pretty young woman and would rather have stood there holding her hand. She had beautiful dark eyes that he found himself lost in. He was also captivated by her accent, it made him feel even dumber than he was, but at the moment, he didn’t care.

Leon

-Leon finishes warming up as he pulls out his sheet music and begins to play again. crowds of people came in for abit to listen to him play ,if you walked by you could hear his music.

the aurora was across the way and you could here it some what in that busy place they had and what a place! a few tip here and there tonight only 10 silver pices its better then what he usualy got but not as good as it had been he been.

playing the top of his game for the past few weeks he couldn't do it any better unless he had a full 88 key piano the one he had was 64 and it had slight less keys for full symphonies he had thought of and more music and songs.

the pay he was getting was decent now but to make more would be a blessing as he shyly tipped his hat down he plays more heavinly swaying and braying tunes to make you weak in the knees as he looks around to the danceing kids some what and adults he knows they enjoy them selves.

in his emotional shell still trying to come out of it he refuses to accept kindness knowing it hurt before unless they showed him signs of friendship they had them selves a friend-

Anna DeSilva

Anna smiled when she heard Tad's stomach growling. Men were always hungry it seemed. Especially the young ones. He would need a hearty meal, this one.

"Ma’am," he said apologetically, whipping his hat off his head again. "I'm sorry, but I didn't git yer name."

"Anna," she replied. "My name is Anna."

Anna wiped her hands self-consciously on her apron before accepting Tad's. No longer as soft or as delicate as they had once been, she wondered if he would notice.

She blinked and grinned as the young man pumped her arm vigorously. She could feel the leathery calluses on his hands. Yes, this was a man used to hard work and somehow she didn't think it would matter if he noticed hers.

Before she could say anything, the sound of a gunshot followed by shouts and screams carried into the kitchen. Tad already had his rifle in hand and was heading for the door when she laid a hand on his arm. "Mi scusi, Tad," she said quietly. "Stay. It is a bad place sometimes, but Miss Lou and the polizia will take care. Per favore? You need food and a bed, sì?"

Tad looked from the door to Anna and back again, but the lure of food and a bed were stronger than a scuffle in a saloon. Even he knew such things were commonplace whenever men and whiskey mixed.

"Sit." She used her 'no nonsense' voice, the one she usually reserved for the little ones. Not looking to see if he had done as told, Anna began to prepare a hearty meal for the newest employee at the Aurora Borealis.

Tad

Tad immediately grabbed a chair and sat down. “Yes Ma’am,” he said. “I mean Anna.”

He stood back up and leaned his rifle against the wall, within easy reach, just incase the scuffle should carry into the kitchen. He hung his hat over the barrel, and sat back down.

“Ma’am … Miss Anna, gol darn it!” Tad exclaimed, frustrated. “Ma’am, could I please call you Annie? I would sure be easier for me.”

“Si, Tad,” she said, glancing at him sideways and smiling. “Per favore, call me Annie.”

“Well….Annie, I don’t know if that means ok or not, but them sure are purdy words you use. I wished I could speak better words, but my Pa says I’m big as an ox and twice as dumb.” He started to laugh at his joke but stopped in mid laugh. “Ma’am, Annie,” he corrected himself. “Could you teach me to speak better words, ya know, rap me on the knuckle or something, like my Ma used to do, when I say something dumb like.”

Tad felt embarrassed asking Anna to teach him to speak correctly, but he did feel dumb when he misused words. Other people didn’t speak as he did, and he wanted to feel like he fit in around other people, not dumb. He liked Anna, he felt comfortable around her, even though they had just met, and he thought maybe they could become a friends. She was intelligent, and pretty, and most importantly, she could cook. He looked around the kitchen until he spied the washbasin; he rose from his chair and walked over to it. He poured some water into the bowl and rinsed his hands in it.

“There is soap beside the bowl,” Anna said, without looking up from her work.

Tad reached down and picked up the soap, ‘to wash his hands properly’. “Yes Ma’am,” he whispered to himself, smiling. When he had finished he walked back over to his chair and sat down.

“Annie,” he began. “If you’d like, I could help you fix them fiddles….food,” he corrected himself. “And I’d sure like it if you was to sit and eat with me. And I could sleep in that storeroom too; jus someplace out of the cold. I been sleepin’ on the ground for an awful long time.”

Doc inhaled deeply as he stepped into the Aurora's sawdust strewn bar. He drew the pungent tobacco smoke into his nicotine starved lungs and licked his lips. He let the warmth of the place ease his bones.

He walked to the bar, asked for whiskey and kept the bottle. Food could wait a while, this way he would get higher, quicker. He looked over at the poker game and saw the women buzzing round like flies, ready to be first in line for the winning hand. He sank another shot as one of the women detached herself and smiled her way over to him.

"Bonjour, Monsieur. Je suis Frenchie," she breathed huskily. "What is your pleasure this evening? Perhaps I might be of... assistance?"

"Well, pleased to meet you M'am. Doc Plimsoll here, most glad to make your aquaintance."

With a wink and a toss of her carefully coiffed head, she linked her arm through his and led him toward a table. "Every man must take his ease. The air is chill outside, chere. You will need some warming up from that first, I think? And perhaps a different kind of warming up after."

"Oh, yes M'am, that it is. Colder than a welldigger's ass..pardon my French." He winked at her and pushed the glass over to her, pouring her a shot. She took the glass to be sociable and hardly drank any of the alcohol. "I'd appreciate some more warming up too. Been a long journey."

"Doc, eh?" she prompted, putting the glass down.

"Yes M'am, a full degree direct from the east coast in doctoring of physic. And I didn't waste my time, I have an elixir..."

"So have I," she said. "It warms the bones." She passed him the glass back and he filled it again to the rim.

August Dukes (a gambler)

The fool had picked the wrong man to accuse of cheating. August Dukes, most often simply called Duke, was an accomplished gambler and had no need to cheat to beat stupid folks out of their hard earned pay. However, the fact that he played it straight didn’t seem to stop folks who had one whisky too many from making accusations. As with all itinerant gambling men, he had learned to defend himself when calming words were not enough. One minute they would be all spit and fire and the next they would be on the floor gasping for their last breath. They all seemed to have more courage than brains.

As he looked down on the man he figured it was time to exit yet another town. Seemed he never stayed long in any one place. Fact was the reason he was so far north was due to being banned from half the towns west of the Mississippi. Then she came to the table giving orders like she was the Queen of Sheba of something. August was not a man that was accustomed to taking orders from females even if they were pretty and owned the joint. However, this one had enough persuasion backing her up to get Sitting Bull to stand. So after waiting long enough to make it look like his idea, he excused himself from the table and headed the lady’s office.

Leon

-Leon Finished his piano playing for his next to last show he had a hour he would see whats happening at the aurora he picks up his coat and puts it on he looks mighty gentleman light dressed up for a 18 year old looked gentleman like his vest his slacks his white shirt his coat a lil hat on his head like a gentleman cap as he walks in he gets looked at as a punk a young kid of 18 what did he want walking up to the bar he looks to the bartender-http://i51.photobucket.com/albums/f367/Keyblade282/damonsmall.jpg "Excuse me sir can i get a cup of hot chocolate if you make it that is"-he loks aroudn he didnt want to be a pain but the aurora was so lovely-"my god i wish i could play here "-he said smileing softly-