Marty pulls Ally aside so they were at the veranda. "Ally, I said to stay here. I know you're not all the way better," Marty said, having her sit down on the seats in the veranda.
"I know, Marty. But we gotta work... as a team," she said, leaning backwards. While they were talking, Ally's stomach began to turn again. It looked as if she was going to vomit.
"What's the matter?" he asked, noticing the color drain from her face. "What's wrong with me...?" she moaned, feeling tears rise up in her eyes.
Marty couldn't stand seeing her in distress; it upset him just as bad. "C'mere, Ally. Let it out..." he said softly, pulling her into a hug. Ally hugged him back, letting the tears stream down her cheeks.
She couldn't figure out what's wrong with her, and that scared her a lot. She didn't want to worry her big brother, but it was his job to worry and also his job to help and protect her when something was wrong.
Ally loved her brother more than anything else in this world, sometimes even more than her own parents. It was amazing just how much their relationship had grown ever since they began to time travel.
He'd also grown more protective of her since their first time traveling trip. Why else would he tell her to stay at the veranda while he talked to Kid Tannen?She'd been beaten, slapped, and
even put on death's door not once, not twice, but three times. Same as Marty, he'd been put on death's door many times
before.
Ally cried for what felt like forever. Marty was there to make sure she was okay. She was finally able to stop crying about 5 minutes later and she pushed away from him, wiping her wet eyes.
"You okay? Do you feel better?" Marty asked, rubbing her arms gently. Ally glanced up at him and sniffled, feeling relieved that she was able to get her emotions out.
"Yeah.. I do... God, what's wrong with me? You know I'm never like this, " Ally said, exhaling shakily. "You're probably just
stressed out. I should've been the only one to go," he said, sitting next to her.
"No. No, no. We both needed to come," she said, rubbing her head. She was right. Marty couldn't leave Ally behind in 1986.
Throughout this whole journey, she's helped him out quite a lot. She's been his partner throughout all of this.
"You're right. You've been my partner since this started," Marty said. "Since when? Since our time traveling trip?" Ally asked, looking at him curiously. "Not just that, but since we were kids," Marty replied.
Ally smiled at him, chuckling softly. "Yeah, I guess that's true," she said. She reached up to hug him and he hugged back. "I love you, Marty," she said, squeezing onto her brother.
"I love you too, Ally. I know I don't say that enough but..." Marty sighed. "You don't have to say it, Marty. I know you do. Your actions speak louder than your words ever could," Ally replied, pushing back from him.
He knew that for sure. He didn't have to say anything because his actions spoke for him.
"So, do I still have to stay here while you're talking to Kid?" she asked. "I'd like you too." He answered. "Alright, fine. But I ain't hiding from him. We took one Buford just fine. I don't think Kid will be any different," she said.
"Alright, let's go to the soup kitchen for that alcohol. Are you sure you're alright?" he asked, standing up. "Yeah. I'm alright now," he nodded, giving him a nod.
They run out of the courtyard, jogging up to the soup kitchen. They walk inside of the soup kitchen with Emmett behind them.
Emmett walked to the back of the dining area, leaving the siblings at the door. They saw that one of Kid's henchmen, CueBall, was still at the stove, stirring whatever was in that pot.
"Jeez, I'm not going to ask what's in there," Ally said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. They look around and see the back door open. Kid's grey-suited accomplise walked in with four barrels in his arms.
If he worked for Kid Tannen, then there was something they were doing to the soup, if you can even call it that. "Hey, Cue Ball," he said.
"What?" Cue Ball said without turning around. "The truck just arrived with a fresh shipment of uh..." accomplise with the grey hat started, seeing Marty and Ally were standing by the door.
"...soup," he finished. "Soup soup?" Cue Ball asked. "Well, uh, this is the regular soup... and this is the... special soup..." guy with grey hat said. "Ri-i-ight. Special," Cue Ball said with a smirk.
Guy with the grey hat turns towards a metal shelf that was by the door he came through and throws two of the barrels on the top. He sets the other two on a long wooden table.
"What are you doing?" Guy with the grey hat asked, looking over Cue Ball's shoulder. "I'm spicin' up the soup! It's my secret recipe!" Cue Ball replied.
"Listen, this ain't the Savoy, and we ain't here to feed these bozos no fancy soup! The boss has got a business to rebuild, so knock off the goofing and mind your post," Guy with the grey hat chastised.
"Alright, alright, just try the soup," Cue Ball said, trying the soup before moving aside. Guy with the grey hat walked the pot and tried it. "I can see why you wanna keep it a secret," He said with a head shake. He then walks away and out of the door.
Cue Ball sits down in a chair that was sitting behind the bar, propping his feet up on the bar, and pulling out a newspaper to read.
Ally glanced at Marty, wondering what they should do. Marty looked down at her and did a head motion towards Emmett. They both walk over to the other end of the bar. Marty glanced over his shoulder and saw what Cue Ball was doing.
"Ally, look," Marty whispered, nudging her. "Huh?" she said, turning around. They watched as Cue Ball was tapping on a red pipe that hung on the wall with a revolver three times.
When he did that, the metal shelf sunk into the ground through by a trap door before rising back up.
That was their task, get the barrels with the "special soup". "There's tables blocking the doorway to the kitchen," Ally said, keeping her voice low. She looked into the kitchen and saw about three tables set up against the kitchen doorway.
"Right, let's go see if we can open it," Marty said, walking forward. They walk around the corner to the doorway. "Try to get it open," Ally said.
Marty opened the door and used his right shoulder to open it, but he only got it open a quarter. "Oof," he grunted, looking inside. He then closed it.
"What is it?" Ally asked. "We're gonna need some help with this," he answered with a sigh. "Well, great," Ally said in defeat.
They walked up to a Emmett. "Huddle up, Emmett," Marty said. Emmett was confused by what Marty said and he furrowed his brow. "Huddle?" he asked.
"Just listen up," Ally said, making it easier for him to understand. "We can't into the door there. Those tables are jamming it shut," Marty said, looking over his shoulder towards the door.
"The door? So your plan is to just waltz there and take a barrel of alcohol?" Emmett asked in exasperation. He didn't get why they would even consider doing that. It was pretty nuts in his eyes.
The duo looked at one another for a moment. "N-No, no. Don't be silly. We weren't gonna do that. Pretty dumb ," Ally replied, swallowing hard.
""I'll say," Emmett scoffed. "Still, we need to get that door open... We can't do anything from out here," Marty said with a shrug.
"Well, it's a simple matter of physics, a lever, some sort of stop. Let me see what I can come up with," Emmett suggested, walking up to the door.
Emmett used a spatula taped to an arm of a chair to keep the door open. "Eureka!" He exclaimed, seeing it would help keep the door open. "Can you get through, Marty?" Ally asked.
He used his shoulder to open the door, but he still wasn't able to squeeze through. "Nope, still nor able to go through," he said, shaking his head. Ally saw through the door, seeing that he moved the tables.
"At least the tables are propped up," she commented. "Let's get us some of that soup. You getting hungry?" Marty asked, giving her a wink. Ally knew what he was talking about and said, "Sure. Let's get some,"
The two made their way to the bar where Cue Ball was sitting. He was still reading the paper. "Excuse us?" Marty said.
"You talking to me?" Cue Ball said, lowering his paper. "Yeah, can my brother and I get some soup?" Ally asked. "We're a soup kitchen. What do you think?" Cue Ball said. throwing the paper on the bar top.
He got up and passed the siblings each a bowl of soup. Ally tried it but instantly pushed it back the minute she tasted it. "On second thought, I'm not hungry," she said, pushing the bowl.
"Is it that bad?" Marty said. "Try it for yourself," she replied. He does, but didn't have the same reaction as her. "What mind of soup is this? It tastes like..." he asked.
"'Scrole ribollita?" Cue Ball said hopefully, looking up from the newspaper. "Actually it was week-old cabbage," Ally shrugged.
"Everyone's a critic. Look, all I got to work with this two-bit soup-in-a-barrel and a spice rock that hasn't been restocked since the Cooledge administration. What do YOU two think I should do to perk it up?" Cue Ball shrugged.
"You should add some heat to it, a little spice," Ally suggested. "Why? is it getting cold?" Cue Ball asked.
"No, she meant, like chili powder. Muy caliente!" Marty corrected, giving a smile. "Oh, you and this girl are tough ones, eh? Actually, I like spicy, too, but it's gotta be edible for the common folks," Cue Ball said.
"C'mon--a little dash isnt going to kill anyone," Marty replied. "Yeah, what's the harm?" Ally said with a smile.
Cue Ball was surprised by their persistence. "Aw heck,ya got moxie, kids. Let's spice it up, shall we?" he said, throwing the paper on the bar top and got up to get the chili powder.
They watched as Cue Ball moved the metal cart over about half way out. He
grabbed the chili powder bottle from the shelf and sprinkles it in the cabbage. While he was distracted, they had the chance to get those barrels.
"Marty, I'll tap the pipe to make the shelf fall over," Ally said. "Alright. Here. Ill get the barrels," Marty said, giving her the tape recorder.
He then walked back over to the door, giving her a thumbs up. Ally looked behind her, seeing that Cue Ball was still stirring the soup. She smiled and turned her attention back to the pipe.
She tapped it three times with the tape recorder. The trap door opened, making the shelf tip over against a wooden table, making the barrels roll onto it.