NOTHING GOLD CAN STAY: RDR2

7. THEY HAVE TO TAKE YOU IN

"Home is the place where,

when you have to go there,

they have to take you in."

– Robert Frost

"Well? Take it." I waved the money at him; he shook his head.

"I can't take that."

"Yes, you can, I'm offering. You don't even have to shake me down!" I'm practically begging.

He rubbed the scar on his chin, I didn't know all that much about him and yet I was sure that he didn't actually want to visit Thomas Downes. I could tell this was a tempting out for him. He grunted and took the money from my hand, shoving some in his satchel and some back at me. He was trying not to look at it.

"I need a drink," he said, marching off towards the saloon, whistling for his horse "you comin'?"

I said I'd meet him there and made my way back to the wagon, poor Grogan's legs were shaking from exhaustion. I managed to coax him into the stable, where the owner berated me for overworking him and ushered him into a pen. I felt awful, he was an old boy now, perhaps it was time I trained Aine with the harness.

Arthur was stood at the bar as I entered, armed with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. I wanted to make a snide comment about him now having enough money to buy a bottle each, but I bit my tongue. I leaned on the bar next to him and watched him pour me a glass, it took about 5 seconds to down it.

"You know him? Mr. Downes?" Arthur asked, I winced at the liquor burn and nodded.

"Sorta, it's a small town. I lived near here for a while. I didn't have much of anything, but he was always good to me. He would give me food sometimes. Never asked for anything back." I explained. I didn't really know him, and it had been a very long time since I'd had any interaction with him, but I remember his kindness. I remembered it more than most other encounters I'd had in those years.

"You said he's sick?"

"Deathly. I ain't asked, but he doesn't seem long for this world. His poor wife." I say, I couldn't remember her name but I could picture her face. They were a textbook god-fearing family, admittedly annoying at times, but good people. I hadn't met many people that I could say that about with confidence.

"Mmm," he grunted, as he always seemed to do, and took another swig of his drink. "You know he ain't the only bastard that owes us money, right?"

"Yeah...well...one at a time." I chuckle, pointing to the bottle. He smirked and poured me another glass.

A rowdy group of men entered the saloon, cheering and hanging onto each other's shoulders. Arthur and I share a glance and silently decide to move to a table near the back, where they couldn't speak to us. Arthur pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and handed one to me, I sparked the match on my boot and thanked him. It was a comfortable gesture; he had begun to feel like an old friend. I guess I had been more desperate for someone to talk to than I thought I was.

Desperate enough to hand over a great deal of money just to avoid confronting who they really were.

"So, money lending is keeping you fed. Any other sins? You out there robbin' trains as well?" I ask, only half joking. Arthur frowns and takes a drag from his cigarette, but I notice a small glint in his eyes.

"Would you laugh if I said yes?" he asked, I did laugh.

"Ain't that a bit outdated?"

"I think the whole way of living's a bit outdated." he said, blowing the smoke from his nose with a sarcastic cackle.