Dead Eye Sam - The shooting Match

     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 Dudleys. 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 durn 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 Talladega 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. A new target was put up for each shooter. 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 Talladega County.

     He slowly squeezed the trigger. The judge walked to the target, and bellowed out excitedly, “dead center bull’s 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.

     As Sam placed her gun on the post, the gasps turned to laughter. “A kid? Sam Dudley is a kid?”

     Some men got mad. “Are we turnin’ this here contest into a sideshow??” The judge waved them all down, and Sam slowly went about her business. The big gun was in place. Sam licked her thumb and put it up into the air. A gentle breeze stirred. As Sam prepared to squeeze off, the wind picked up just a little. Sam Stopped, and again wet her thumb and put it up into the air. Many laughed, others were getting angry. “Git on with it!” The judge tried to wave them down, but was not completely successful.

     Sam slowly squeezed the trigger, as a crowd gathered around Fred, congratulating him. The big gun boomed, and the crowd quieted. The field judge laughed, shook his head, and hollered out, “Two inches right of dead center!!”

     Not a sound was heard for a moment, surely the judge was making a joke. But no. The crowd interest increased.

     As Sam prepared for her second shot, the wind picked up. She waited, with her wet thumb in the air, but it only got worse. Finally, the crowd was only getting louder, and the wind was still gaining in strength. She squeezed off.

     The crowd waited. The judge bellowed out, “three inches left of dead center.” Again the crowd gasped. “That Dudley kid is dang good!” Shock and surprise registered on many faces.

     Sam was doing her math. Nothing could save her now. Nothing short of dead center, and the wind was still blowing. Maybe her cap was throwing her off just a bit; she usually practiced without a cap on. Sam readied the big gun, but there was just too much wind for a good shot. She needed to kill a little time, maybe the wind would settle a bit. She slowly removed her cap, and the prettiest, brightest red hair anybody had ever seen flowed down around her shoulders, waving in the gentle wind. The crowd went instantly silent. Finally, someone shouted, “Lookie thare! That kid Sam’s a girl!!” The crowd went so wild, the judge didn’t even try to settle them. Sam stuck up her thumb, but she knew it was hopeless. Too much wind. She had to kill a little time, somehow. She decided to have a coughing spell to kill more time. The crowd was getting unruly. More coughs. Suddenly, a strange thing happened.

     The wind settled. Complete stillness. Sam quickly verified this with her wet thumb, then slowly squeezed off. The loud boom echoed from the hills. The crowd held its breath. The judge looked at the target, shook his head, then looked again. “Dead center bullseye!!! The judge was laughing, and shaking his head slowly. “Looky here, folks! We have a tie! This little red haired Dudley girl, eleven years old, has tied Fred! Who woulda believed this, folks!”

     Sam became a legend in Talladega County that day. These men would tell this story around a thousand campfires during the long war to come, giving a brief little respite during the dark days of the war. Fred, himself, never ever told this story, though. Many times he just stomped off into the darkness when somebody else started to tell it.

    Sam made more friends before she went home that day. But most of the townspeople still avoided her. Everyone knew she was a Dudley girl, even though they had never seen a Dudley act so friendly and personable. But Sam had done what she had set out to do that day, let everybody in Talladega County know how she could shoot. She was proud of her brand-new .50 caliber buffalo gun she had just won, but mostly, she knew she would never have to use her gun to protect herself in Talladega County. And maybe, she had made some friends who could one day help her get away from the Dudley clan. All was well in Sam’s world as she rode back to the land of the Dudley’s.