Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Part Eight - Dead-eye Sam



      Sam was excited when Slim laid out his plan for her. This played right into her long-ranged plan. And, being alone was perfect; this would be the chance to make some friends in town. Sam was already realizing; someday, somehow, she had to get away from the Dudley clan. And having friends in town could someday help her do just that. And, everybody around, Clan and town folks alike, would know just how good she really was with the big gun. This would mean, Sam would never have to shoot anybody!
     Sam did not plan to just do well. She planned to win.
     Millie wanted to go along with Sam to the shooting match, but Slim said, “No! Sam’s been livin’ in yer shadow too long already. And besides, it might be dangerous for you. I heard about you shoot’en at that man last week, who was not even on Dudley land. Didn’t think I knew about that, did ye? He mighta saw you. That Marshal gets his hands on you in town, they just might hang ye. And if you do that again in Taladega County, I’ll hang ye myself.”                
     Sam spent every day leading up to the big match honing her skills on the shooting range. When the big day arrived, and Sam rode Old murt into town, she was at her peak. Once she got to town, Sam let her true personality come out, finally. They all knew she was a red-haired Dudley girl, but many began to realize, she was just not like the other Dudley’s. She paid her entrance fee Slim had given her, and awaited her turn.
     This was a major event. Everybody knew, the War was almost upon them. Most of the men would soon be leaving to join the war effort. Everyone had been practicing up. They all realized the South had far fewer men than the dern Yankees. Every shot had to count – only the best shooters would be coming home at the end of this war. And the very best shooters in Taladega County were entered today. The target would be a twelve inch circle. Range, two hundred yards. Each shooter would get three shots. Free standing, or resting the gun on a post, which everybody did.
    The shooting began. Each man took his turn. Sam noticed early on, these men were good. The fifth man came up. It was Fred Williams, who everybody knew had a reputation as the best shooter in Taladega County.
     He slowly squeezed the trigger. The judge walked to the target, and bellowed out excitedly, “dead center bulls eye!!” The crowd went wild! The wind had been perfectly still during that first shot, but began to pick up a little. He took more time with the next two, which were each a few inches off dead center.
     Slowly, man after man shot. There were thirty in all. Number five, Fred Williams, was still in the lead, but two others had hit dead center also with one shot. But their other two shots were not as good. One of them missed the target altogether as a stiff breeze picked up. Finally, all the men had had their turn. Someone hollered, “Fred Wins again!” a big cheer went up from Fred’s family.

     The judge waved them down. “No, we have one other entry here.” Then he laughed, and hollered loudly, “Sam Dudley, come on up!” A collective gasp spread through the crowd as Sam walked forward, carrying the big gun, a few short strands of her bright red hair waving below her cap in the gentle breeze.

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