Immortal Dichotomy

Chapter Three: Billy's Hanbleceya

"I bought a house at the mouth of the holler
A ring at the pawn shop and a crib for the kid
I heard some word, there was work up in Hindman
I'm going tomorrow and hope that there is

My sweat and my wages they don't seem to weight out
I'm gettin' more aches than I'm gainin' in gold
Whoever said you could raise you a family
Just workin' your ass off knee deep in coal?"

-Tyler Childers

Billy Clayton was on his fourth bottle of Rolling Rock, watching the latest political failure unfold on a big-screen from the comfort of his recliner. Shelby – soon to be Clayton – Radcliffe sat on a loveseat that was tucked behind an unfinished oak coffee table. Shelby didn't make a habit of drinking, but every now and then Billy could convince her to have a few beers, or a few shots of whatever was going around; even though she claimed beer gave her migraines the next day. Shelby's vice was smoking weed – a lot of fucking weed – and he had no qualms with her preference; even though it was highly frowned upon in the great state of Kansas. Hell, Billy even took the occasional puff of whatever exotic strain that she happened to be smoking on; tonight, was Delvin Poison. Or was it Darwin Poison... Dublin? Durbin. Billy had no idea; he was in between almost-sober and nearly-drunk, and had no plans indulging in his fiancées habit.

Shelby had black hair and dark green eyes, she was pretty, but not gorgeous, and that was fine by Billy – he knew he was no ­ten or anything like that, and never wanted to marry a girl who half the town was after. Shelby had the tom-boyish kind of cuteness, not necessarily butch, but a little thick; and most importantly, un-afraid of keeping up with Billy and his friends. He wasn't a jealous guy, and had plenty of confidence that Shelby would likely pick a fist-fight with one of the fella's if they ever attempted hitting on her – pride for a pride, she'd say. Billy smiled at the almost-sober thought, and pretended to watch the news until he couldn't bear the silence. Shelby was feeling good, getting high in the loveseat, and he wanted to hear his soon-to-be wife's weird-ass thoughts.

"SHELBYYYYYYYY" he yelled, with a grin on his face. Billy's voice was slightly too high-pitched for his rough-necked size and appearance.

"Je-SUS" she coughed, with smoke rolling out of her mouth as she spoke; "Christ, man, what was that?"

"I just wanted to know your weird-ass thoughts..." He replied.

"Pro'lly my Boo's weird-assed face, love."

Billy laughed, "Without thinking of my wife's weird-ass, ass-body?"

"ME!? You're the one with tits! I 'bout got you this cute, pink bra for them melons!" She joked.

"Yeah... that'd be the day." Billy defended.

"Yup," she went on, "but then I'd have to tell my people I was gay for a fat man, and it sounded like too much –"

Shelby took another hit from a blunt and tried to hold it in, as she finished her burn; " – work."

Billy looked at her with a shit-eating grin, and saw the face that Shelby was making; her eyes were half-closed from being too stoned, while her eyebrows nearly connected with her hairline. He lost composure and started laughing at her, while she coughed the miasma of her next hit from her lungs, before she could breathe again she was giggling because he was laughing so hard.