My hands were bound behind me as I was being led out of the jailhouse. The sun hit me square in the eyes and I had to squint. We walked a short distance and turned the corner. I could then see what all the hammering noise was I had been hearing from my cell. Of course I already knew what was going on. After all, this was the reason for my being in the jail.
As we turned the corner I could see the crowd that had gathered to see my demise. Didn’t these people have anything better to do with their miserable lives? This will likely be the most excitement they’ve seen since that first day when I rode into this small cow town.
We reached the bottom steps of the gallows. I couldn’t help but pause briefly , but then I was pushed onto the first step. I counted each step as I went. Thirteen. An unlucky number. I supposed it was meant to be that way. I thought to myself, “There’s no turning back now.”
The hangman was standing there waiting for me. He held a black hood in his hands. He had a stern look upon his face. Next to him was the judge that had sentenced me. His words were still ringing in my head, “Hang by the neck until dead”. Next to the judge was the town’s preacher. Who had invited him? Is he going to save my soul? I’d heard it said I didn’t possess a soul. I never gave it a never mind.
The Deputy led me up in front of the hangman. The trap door was directly below my feet. The noose hung down now beside my head. The hangman turned me to face the crowd who were below all staring up at us. My whole life I had wanted to be the center of attraction. Now, here I am and I don’t like it after all. If only time could be turned back. Aw, bullshit! Nothing would change. If it weren’t today it would have been the same results another day down the road. Next week. Next month. A year from now. It really wouldn’t make any difference. Maybe instead of a public hanging it might have been a bullet. Dead is dead regardless of how you got there.
The judge stepped forward, then turned to face me. He spoke loudly so that the entire crowd could hear him. “You have been found guilty in a court of law for murder in the first degree. You have been sentenced to hang by the neck until dead. We are here today to pass that sentence. Do you have any last words?”
“Go to hell! Get it over with”. I spat on the floor. My spittle landed on the judge’s shiny boots. He glanced down and then back up at me giving me a grim look. I smiled.
The judge stepped back and the preacher came forward. “Would you like a prayer?” he asked.
“Save it for somebody who needs it, Preacher. Prayers ain’t gonna save me now.”
“May God have mercy on your soul.”
The preacher stepped back. The hangman then put the black hood over my head. I could not see anything. The next voice I heard was that of the judge once again. He began reading the official court document pronouncing my sentence. When he had finished I heard him as he stepped back.
For a moment there was silence. Then I detected the sound of the lever moving. I sensed the floor under my feet giving way. I felt my body began to fall. I felt the rope around my neck as it instantly tightened.
In that brief moment of time before my neck snapped my entire life flashed before my eyes.
-----
“Here ya go, son. Your very own dog. Just what every six-year-old boy needs. What will you call him?”
“Thanks, papa. I think I’ll call him Hunter because that’s what me and him will be doing all the time. Come on Hunter. Let me get my ol’ coon-skin cap and you can get a good whiff of it.”
-----
“Tommy, come in. It’s time to eat.” ma’s voice called from the doorway of our shack.
“Okay, ma. I’m coming. Be there in a minute. Just grabbing an arm load of firewood.”
With that I began to fill my arms with the firewood I had been chopping. I had long arms and was able to carry in enough wood to last all night in ma’s cook stove which served as the heat as well. I was glad to get a break from my work. I could already taste ma’s cooking.
-----
“Hunter, old boy. You’ve been a good dog. We’ve kilt us a bunch of ol coons, you and me. I’m gonna miss you. Why do dogs gotta get old so fast? It seems like just yesterday I got you. It’s been the best ten years of my life. Rest in peace, my friend.”
-----
“You old enough to buy a gun, Boy?” the store clerk asked.
“Yeah. I’m old enough. I’ll be eighteen next month. I been shootin’ guns my whole life. This will be my first six-shooter. How much is this one?” I replied.
-----
I sat my beer down onto the counter and turned to face the voice behind me. He was a burly looking man with a scruffy beard and shaggy hair. He smelled like he’d been living in a pig’s sty. I saw his fist coming toward my face. I ducked and let loose with my own punch. He was slightly bigger than I was, but I was younger and faster than him. I caught him in the jaw as he went sprawling backward. He hit the table behind him and lost his balance and went to the floor. I thought that would be the end of it, but then I saw his arm move as he went for his gun. He pulled it out in an instant and fired. Lucky for me his shot had missed me by mere inches. My shot did not miss and hit him square in the chest. He lay there bleeding as he took his last breath.
-----
I stepped out into the dirt street and faced the man who stood about twenty yards from me. I held my arms down close to my side watching the other man’s every move. If he wanted it to end this way I would be happy to oblige him.
“You ever shoot a man before”, the man asked.
“Yeah, but I didn’t enjoy it. I will this time. You wanna talk or you wanna draw?”
“I’m just waitin’ on you. What you gonna do?”
I saw his hand move toward his gun. In a flash my gun was pointing at him. My shot was sure and hit its mark. The man lay on the ground. He would move no more.
-----
“You Tommy Moore?”’ the man wearing the tin star asked.
“Yeah. What’s it to you?” I answered.
“Got some questions to ask.” the star-man returned.
“Well, who’s stopping you?” I retorted.
“Maybe we should take a walk over to the jailhouse.”
“You got something to say to me, say it. I don’t much like jails.”
“Okay, let me put it this way. I need to take your gun.”
“Why you want my gun?”
“You’ll get it back once you’re cleared of any wrong doing, but until then I need to have your gun and for you to remain in jail until the circuit judge comes to town.”
“What’s the charge?”
“They say you killed a man in Junction City. You ever been to Junction City?”
“Yeah. I been there. Killed a man in self-defense. You ain’t takin me in for that.”
“Either give me your gun or I’ll have to take it.”
“You’ll die trying, law man.”
I knew the only way I would get out of this was to beat this man on the draw. Like lightning, I went for my gun. My hand wrapped around the bone handled grip. I cleared leather and leveled my gun. I fired. I saw as the sheriff pulled his gun clear. My bullet struck and his shot fired into thin air as he fell backward. The law man had served his last duty. His days were over. I had to escape town. I ran for my horse.
-----
I was surrounded by a posse of at least fifty men. I had nowhere to run and only a short supply of bullets. I made each shot count. I managed to take down three or four of the deputized men. Just as I fired my last bullet I heard a voice from behind me. I dropped my empty gun to the ground.
It was a long ride back into town where I was put into the jail cell to await my trial. Trial? That was no trial. But I never expected to get anything less than a guilty verdict.
The gunman swung at the end of the rope. His days were over.
You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.
0 comments