Old Gatestown Chronicles
Page 3
Brothers
The Holbrook brothers looked almost alike, though one was dark-haired and the other tow-headed. Two years apart in age, they were as close as could be and fought bitterly when they agreed, which was most of the time. As far as disagreements went, they experienced relatively few, being like-minded.
One day they sat at their usual table in Yowell’s tavern with tumblers of beer and plates of ham and potatoes, bickering.
“Frank Stevens is not fifty years old.”
“Forty-nine!”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you Mack, he’s not fifty.”
“Well, why don’t we just go ask him and let him settle the damn disagreement once and for all!”
“Fine with me!”
The men proceeded to eat in silence, shoveling food in their mouths as if time were wasting. Ben finished first, then leaned back in his chair, hands on his thighs, and let loose of a large belch. Then he drew a hand through his glossy, black hair. “Fine food as always, Sam. My compliments to the missus,” said Ben.
Sam nodded at Ben. Zachary Holbrook was still at the business of eating. “HOWRR BOUTA PIECE-A PIE?” he said, mouth full and hanging open.
“Yes, sir,” replied Sam, “What about you, Ben?”
“No,” he said, “I prefer pie. I’d like a piece of pie.”
Sam called back to Eileen and she brought the slices of pie. “You’re the best cook in the world, Missus Yowell,” said Ben.
“Oh, don’t listen to him. I’ll tell ya what, you make the best vittles a man could ever eat,” retorted Zachary, shooting his brother a disapproving look.
“Well, you gentlemen are the kindest,” said Eileen. She excused herself, shaking her head and smiling.