Chapter Ten – Aggie's Friends
Texas 2006
Dean and Sam walked through the hotel's front door and back into the late 1800's. The entryway's walls were covered with old, delicate floral wallpaper and a red velvet covered settee with a matching chair sat under an ornate gilded mirror surrounded by old black and white photos in rustic frames. A round silver bell sat on the old-fashioned wooden counter next to an old guest register that was blank, except for three names written in an old faded cursive.
The brothers gave each other an apprehensive look before Sam stepped up and rang the bell.
"You sure about this?" Dean again asked wondering why, of all the possible towns they could have chosen to stop in, he had picked this particular one.
"Yeah." Sam responded with confidence.
A beautiful blond woman in her late twenties dressed in a print dress that reached the floor came through the curtains to the side of the counter and smiled a welcoming smile to the strangers. She paused when they turned and she first saw their faces, stunned for a moment before recovering her composure.
"Hello. Would you like a room?" She politely asked.
"Yeah, do you have a room with two doubles?" Sam asked.
"Actually all our rooms are quite small and only have one double bed, but I can give you two connecting rooms for the same price if you like."
"Yeah, that would be great." Sam responded.
"You don't seem too busy around here. How many guests do you have now?" Dean asked.
"Well, counting you two, that would make a total of two guests." She replied with a twinkle in her eye.
"Would you like rooms that face out to the main street or back into the alley?" She inquired.
"Main Street." Dean and Sam spoke in unison.
She turned the register around for them to sign in and looked inquisitively at their signatures.
"Winchester. Very unusual name. Any relation to the rifle?" She asked.
"Uh, not that we know of. Haven't really gotten into all that genealogy stuff though." Sam responded.
"You brothers?"
"Yeah, we are." Dean replied, wondering why she was so interested in them, yet dismissing it as small town curiosity. After all, they couldn't have too much to occupy their time and any diversion was probably welcome.
"You take MasterCard?" Dean asked.
"No. We just take cash but don't worry about that; you can pay when you check out." She replied as she handed them their room keys: old skeleton keys hung on a round ring of brass.
"So, is there a good place to get a steak around here?" Dean inquired.
"Well, the only place to get a steak would be the saloon. But their steaks are very good, so we don't need another choice." She answered with a smile. "Just tell them you're friends of Aggie and they'll take real good care of you."
"Oh, so you're Aggie?" Dean questioned.
"Me, oh no. My name is Gabrielle."
Dean waited for further elaboration, but she didn't appear ready to offer any more information. Dean was finding this whole conversation a little too weird for his taste, but then again this whole day was turning into one weird experience.
He finally went ahead and asked, "So, Aggie would be?"
"Aggie owns the town. We don't get many visitors but I'm sure she'll want to meet you, but enough about that. You better head on over to the saloon; they shut down the grill around eight."
Dean and Sam both looked at each other and simultaneously uttered. "Huh."
Sam was the first to breach the awkward silence as he motioned to the stairs that led up to their rooms.
"Well let's put away our bags and go get some grub."
"Grub? You becoming a cowboy by osmosis or something?" Dean laughed as he followed his brother up the narrow staircase.
Gabrielle was correct about the rooms, which were quite small yet quaint. The beds were comfortable, but they were shocked to discover no bathroom. They wandered down the hall to find a community bathroom with an old cast iron footed tub with antique fittings and toilet with an old-fashioned pull rope from the ceiling to facilitate flushing.
"Man, I hate camping." Dean cracked.
"Hey, look on the bright side, since we're the only guests it's almost like having a private bath." Sam observed.
"Great. Good observation, Pollyanna."
Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. "You know you could try being a little more positive there."
"Oh yeah? Well I'm positive I don't like wandering the halls looking for the toilet in the middle of the night. That positive enough for ya?"
They stowed their bags, locked their rooms and headed on over to the saloon.
Dean had seen his fair share of rustic watering holes, but in all his days he had never encountered a saloon as realistically old west as this. He half expected Wild Bill Hickok to be playing his last hand of poker at one of the tables over in the corner.
"Hey, didn't that fella, Wild Bill Hickok, get shot playing poker in a saloon?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, he did. Good thing you weren't around back in the Wild West, you probably would've been shot playing poker."
"Me? Nah, I'm too good to be shot in the back."
"You think Wild Bill wasn't good? They write books about him, haven't seen any Dean Winchester books lately." Sam smirked.
"Yeah! Well, I'm not dead yet. They only write books about dead guys."
"Well, if you find yourself sitting in on a poker game in a western saloon and you have two pair, aces and eights, I'd be looking behind you dude, or you might just be joining old Wild Bill."
Dean just grinned as they continued surveying the saloon.
From the sultry portrait of a naked woman seductively posed to reveal nothing but her shame that hung behind the bar, to the brass spittoons at the base of the long wooden bar scarred from years of abuse, this bar was an authentic Wild West relic.
Round wooden tables surrounded by wood chairs were spaced throughout the boot worn plank floor and were largely empty except for one table that held a poker game with five dusty cowboys and another that held two lovely waitresses.
"Think we've invaded a movie set or something? I can't wait for John Wayne to come through that door." Dean joked.
"Well, if John Wayne comes through that door I think we're in trouble, considering he's been dead for twenty-some years. But yeah, weird." Sam agreed.
"Yeah, I got that. So why exactly did you want to stay in this unique town?" Dean asked.
"Man, I don't know. Just a feeling, but this is definitely getting weirder every minute."
"Well psychic wonder, I'm hungry and if they can fix me up a steak, I reckon I'll eat it." Cowboy Dean laughed, utilizing his best Texan accent.
They sat down at a table and one of the girls rose to come see what they wanted.
"What can I do for you fellas?" She suggestively asked.
"Two beers, two steaks rare and all the fixin's." Dean replied giving her one of his most charming smiles. As she turned to walk away he muttered under his breath, "And I may have to get back to you on that other thing."
"Dean can we focus here? I think we have more pressing concerns than you scoring another one night stand."
"Hey, I'm just remembering why we stopped here. Remember it's the 'Home of Romance'. Hard to believe they can get away with advertising that, considering the lack of female companionship I've witnessed around here. Hell, I've only seen three women, of course that Gabrielle is a mighty fine looking woman."
"You better watch your step around her, I have the feeling she could keep you on your toes."
"Not exactly the picture I had in mind, but I can work with it." Dean grinned.
The waitress returned bringing their beers and a plate of warm tortillas with salsa.
"So is this real Texas salsa?" Dean asked exuding all his charm.
"No. It's that stuff in a jar from New York City." She quite seriously replied.
Sam just stared at his brother's startled face and then broke out laughing in that high pitched cackle of his.
"What? Come on now Sam." Dean kicked his brother under the table. The look of disappointment on his face was like a little boy at Christmas who had just opened a large, inviting package only to discover it was filled with socks and underwear. Oh, man!
"I'm sorry. I just had to see the look on your face. Yeah, that's real Texas salsa. We're authentic old West here." She smiled.
"Yeah, we noticed." Dean answered regaining his composure with a sly grin.
"Let me know if you need anything else." She smiled again and turned to leave.
"Hey, we forgot to tell you, we're friends of Aggie." Dean quickly stated.
"Really? Why didn't you say so sooner? I best go tell the cook." She replied.
"We didn't realize it would make that much of a difference." Sam added.
"Only the best for Aggie's friends." She turned and hurried back to the grill.
"So Einstein, what do you make of that?" Dean asked.
"Weird."
"Would you quit saying that? Come up with a new word wouldya?"
"Whatever."
"That's more like it. So why would she tell us to say we're Aggie's friends when we don't even know who the hell Aggie is, and she sure as hell don't know us?" Dean questioned.
"I don't know but somehow I think we'll be finding out. I just feel like this town wanted us to come here." Sam pondered.
"OK. That's it. Town's don't want people to come to them. Don't make this any weirder than it already is."
"I thought we were gonna use a new word?" Sam snickered.
"Well, what word explains the situation any better than weird? Man, this is just so freakin' weird!" Dean replied.
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