Oklahoma, 1850's
"Butch! Butch! Wake up!"
A tall, dark-skinned girl with long brown hair stood over her sometimes favorite client
"I know you hear me! Where's my money!" said the frustrated young woman
The man in the bed, a tall, skinny white man with blonde hair and blue eyes laid in the bed, naked with an empty whiskey bottle under his cheek.
The man woke up from his slumber with an angry whore standing over him
"I already paid you, Ami," said the man in a groggy voice
"That was for the first throw. You said you would pay me extra to stay the night. And I told you that's not my name. My name is Amitola!"
"I said that?" said the man with a puzzled look on his face
"Yes," said Amitola as she smacked him across the face "Where's my three dollars?"
The man grabbed his face. The slap brought him back to the land of the living.
"Ok, ok. Reach in my boot over there and get the money"
Butch pointed to the corner of the small room where his clothes and boots were spun about.
"All you have is a 5 bill in here," said Amitola
"Well, keep the change. Consider it an advance on our next encounter," said Butch
"After last night, this might be your last time with me"
"Why"
"After the first throw you paid me to stay the night, then you drank your bottle and fell asleep on top of me"
"Sounds like easy money to me"
"Sounds like you need a wife to me"
After hearing the word wife, Butch was wide awake. He sat up from the bed and put his pants on.
"What do I need with a wife when I have you"
"You only have me for 3 dollars a throw and that usually only lasts a few minutes"
Amitola finished dressing and headed to the door
"No kiss goodbye," said Butch in a snarky tone
Amitola looked back at him and shot ocular daggers at him
Butch laughed to himself as he started to roll his morning cigarette. He had been in town for a little over a year. He enjoyed the quiet town. He's been renting a room at Smitty's, the local bar/whorehouse. Smitty was a friend from the war. Smitty took what little money he had and started the place and when Butch found out his friend had a bar and cathouse he rode into town and didn't plan to leave. A bed, liquor, and whores were all he needed. After the war he felt that he was owed an early retirement, and this was the perfect place for him. Until the money ran low. That's when he decided to join the Marshalls. At first, he didn't want to join but when he found out that he could bring one or two fugitives a month and make enough to last him for two months he was in. He hasn't rode with the Marshalls for almost two months, so he knew time was coming up. Especially since he used his last five on Ami. He knows her full name but she's the only redskin girl to give him any lip and he liked messing with her.
As Butch struck his match on the edge of his table and lit his cigarette he looked out of his window on to the sleepy little town. He liked the quiet. The redskins and their slaves didn't act like the others in the east. They spoke English, wore regular clothes and didn't speak that gibberish that the others did.
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