“I got myself a drink. Does anyone want one? I can go back.”
A gleam of home rayed across Everette’s mind as he instantly recognized the man’s accent; he was American. Probably not surprisingly the first he had seen while on his trip to land of cockney, so it was a pleasant surprise. The offer, however, was not as much. He could tell just from the man’s stance and the way he addressed that he was a man of military, probably army, and the thought of the man drinking so early in the morn was a bit disheartening to say the least.
“Well there's plenty of room cowboy, I don't think anyone here is going to stop you,” said the flapper, obviously very charismatic. A sort of smirk ran across Everette’s face, for the last time he was called cowboy he was only sixteen and had no clothes on. Suddenly, many people were entering the cabin; one asking if was music was okay and apparently getting narrowed down to jazz by some, a man came in with a mentor of an old fellow and he appeared to be important for we was escorted out, and finally many others, including the shy one, left for drink.
Everette pocketed his coin and thought to follow suit, but on the way he got distracted by one thing or another, mostly small things that should not interest him but did. When he finally remembered why he had left the cabin, he walked down the corridor to find the flapper there, Dod if he was not mistaken, and he thought it would be nice to get better acquainted in a purely cordial way. As he walked up, however, he noticed her in pain with red on her face, and from his time in New York, he knew very well what that meant. If Everette was English, maybe, he would have comforted the girl and held her hand, but he was not.
He was American.
With only a nod and smile, and a slight awkward pat on the shoulder, towards Dod he walked straight towards the bar, but he did not walk slow or with an unclenched fist. It did not take him long to find the man who had obviously hit Dod, for he had many cuts and pieces of glass on his face. A little relief went through Everette as he knew the man was showed up by a woman, but ot would not be enough. Without a second thought, Everette walked up to the man and with all of his might sent his right fist into the scoundrel’s bloodied face, sending him staggering back into the group oh his supporters, and the few that came after Everette were placed onto their asses as well. However, one of their punches landed, and Everette fell back and into the bar. One man held him down while another winded back his arm with a bottle in hand. He knew he was about to get hurt really bad, damning his Tennessean blood, but maybe they would at least think twice next time. Everette closed his eyes in anticipation.