Oklahoma

1881

Boredom had long since settled into my young bones as I sat upon the ridge and watched the tranquil green valley below. The sun, which had been high in the sky when I'd started my silent vigil, was now threatening to dip below the horizon to the west.

I dreaded making the long trek home, not only because it would be a long trip on foot in the dark but also because I would be forced to admit to my mother and father that my hunting trip had been unsuccessful. Lord knew we needed food in the worst way. My fourteen year old body was much ganglier than the other boys at school and my mother was busy everyday taking in the extra fabric on all our clothes. Not only that, but my father wasn't well enough to hunt and my sister, who had been born with weak lungs, was getting worse by the day as her body grew tired and weary from hunger.

As if to mock me, a gnawing ache rumbled to life in my middle and I mused that it sounded as if I'd swallowed a live wildcat which was now roaring and hissing to let me know it needed out.

I waved my hand to knock away a pesky mosquito and began to realize as the light continued to fade, that failure was indeed what my family would be having for supper again this week.

I could wait only ten more minutes and then I would have to leave. To pass the time I began to hum a song we'd learned in school the month before. It was a quick and happy little ditty that the girls loved to dance to.

So engrossed was I in thoughts of school and making sure I got every note of the song correct, that I nearly missed the movement in the valley below.

Quickly I scrambled for the binoculars and took a gander at what was finally making its way through the lush green grass. Disappointment filled me when I realized it was only a man. A man in a silly little felt top hat riding upon a donkey of all things!

Never had I seen a single thing so queer in all my life! He had a piece of prairie grass hanging off his lip and a small prod in his hand which he swatted the donkey with now and then to keep the small beast moving forward.

Now my boredom got the best of me and I decided to simply sight the man in with my rifle. I had no interest in shooting him of course but I wanted to see just how small he would look in my rifle sights.

I brought the Winchester repeater up to my shoulder, ignoring that rumbling in my middle and the dizziness the hunger was causing in my head, and I aimed at the man as he rode along.

I kept him in my sights for quite a while as he rode closer and closer toward the ridge on the trail that would lead him straight past me twenty feet above him.

When my stomach roared yet again, I decided it was time to go home and I was just about to lower the rifle, of that I was sure, when suddenly it filled the evening with a terrible bang and a bullet tore out the front of the barrel, pierced the peaceful evening air and slammed directly into the silly man's chest.

My heart ceased to beat. Disbelief filled my mind and guilt tore through my senses.

The man tumbled from his saddle without so much as a word or a cry of pain or surprise and he fell dead upon the ground. His donkey let out a bellow and ran several feet before stopping and lowering his head to graze on the long grasses as if nothing at all out of place had happened.

I couldn't seem to draw a breath. Gasping and panting I stared down at the lifeless corpse upon the ground so far below me.

I had just killed a man. A perfectly innocent man who had simply been going about his day just the same as I had been going about mine.

The next thing I knew I was running. Running away and running fast. I tossed my gun into the weeds and let my legs carry me quickly away from what I had done. I ran until my side cramped and my lungs burned. I ran until I reached the mud pits of the abandoned mine and I didn't stop running until dizziness from hunger and lack of air had my head swimming and pounding. I slipped on the slick mud before falling down hard upon the ground.

My clothes, hair and body thoroughly coated in the thick gray clay and mud, I curled up in the sticky grime beneath an outcropping of rocks, pulled my knees into my chest and wept. Fat tears of guilt, fear and pain ran down my cheeks. I could not believe what I had done.

My mother would be heart broken and my father would be outraged. The disappointment they would both no doubt feel for me had me trembling. My baby sister would live the rest of her short life carrying the shame of knowing that her older brother had been a murderer.

Unless....

There was always the choice of simply leaving the man's body out here for the critters and elements to dispose of. There had been no one else out here to know that I had been the one to take his life should his body be found. There were no witnesses and we were far enough from any homesteads to ensure that no one would have heard the shot I'd fired from my rifle.

Yes. That's what I would do. I would simply ride home, tell my family my hunt had been unsuccessful, deal with their disappointment and crawl into my bed with nothing but a bit of turnip soup in my belly and that constant gnawing ache of hunger I'd come to think of as normal.

Then, as if sent from above, a sudden thought entered my mind and I shook my head roughly at the absurdity of it and wondered why in the world it had suddenly appeared. There was no way I could do that!

But I was so hungry...

My stomach clenched as if to remind me that it had been weeks since we'd had more than the most meager of meals--and as if to emphasize that fact even further, my vision swam and I had to sit there and breathe deeply for several long moments before I felt steady enough to open my eyes.

Nibbling at my lip, I suddenly wondered if I could do it. It would solve all my problems. There would be no body to be found as well as full stomachs for not only me but for my mother, father and sister as well.

Inside I swelled with pride and beamed with joy at my cleverness. There was no point feeling guilty over what I was about to do. I had already killed the man and could see no good in letting his terrible death go to waste.

With determination now replacing the fear and guilt I'd been consumed with, I pushed myself to my weary feet. Slipping and sliding with every step, I made my way out of the mud pit and headed back toward the valley, grabbing my discarded Winchester rifle from the brush on my way.

The first thing I did after reaching the valley was build up a small campfire beside the carcass so I could see to work since darkness was beginning to settle over the land. Next, I stripped the body of clothing and laid it out across them to protect the meat from dirt.

Skinning the meat would have been easier at home, tied up on the porch but I knew that wasn't an option. Not only would carrying the entire body the miles between here and the cabin be extremely difficult, I doubted my family would be as impressed with my hunting skill should they see the game I'd taken.

No, cleaning the meat would simply have to be done the hard way. I wasn't bothered by doing things the hard way. I was a hard worker and my family was going to be so proud to see me riding in with so much fresh meat!

My knife was good and sharp, a thing which my father had always lectured me on, and it sliced through the pale skin easily as I began to strip the carcass of its outer layer. Twice I had to pause to wipe the sweat away but never did I stop completely.

Next came cutting the meat from the bone. I spread out my bedroll that I had brought along just in case my trip took all night and very carefully, as not to ruin any food, I trimmed the meat from the bones and laid it on that blanket. I cut even the smallest slivers, knowing that my mama would be able to use them for stew.

After wrapping up the meat, I realized I now had a dilemma. There was the leftover skin, skeleton and clothing of this man laying out here for anyone to see--as well as his donkey.

There was only one thing I could do... Slipping through the dark I made my way back to the abandoned mining camps. Without much difficulty and without wasting much time, I found a shovel amongst the timbers. When I returned to my fire a short time later, I began to dig a hole.

Sweat trickled down my thin back and soaked into my cinched trousers from the amount of work I was being forced to accomplish but I knew it would be worth it to see my family finally enjoying a good meal. We had been far too long without.

Once the evidence of my kill--including the man's belongings off the donkey--were hidden below the ground. I swatted the donkey roughly and sent it running away across the plains.

Deciding it would be best to sleep until morning and then head back to the cabin, I curled up beside the little fire and let sleep claim me--my dreams full of the sights, scents and tastes of fresh roasts, sizzling meat and filling stews.

The next morning, I left my camp with the dawning sun. I walked toward my family's cabin with my catch tied to my back and after several hours the smoke from the chimney came into view.

"Did you get something, son?" my papa asked with a broad, happy grin when he saw the bulging pack on my back and sat his cutting axe aside.

I knew I would be beaming with pride. "I sure did, pa! I got us enough meat to last a few weeks."

"That's great, Alexander!" he ruffled my dark hair and whistled loudly, bringing my mama and sister out of the cabin to see what was the cause of the commotion. My sister, Sarah, hobbled over on her weak legs, her breathing labored as her crippled lungs struggled to draw in enough breath.

"Do we get a real supper today?" she whispered, hope shining brightly in her green eyes.

"We sure do, Sarah." I was proud to tell her.

"Oh, Alexander!" My mama had tears shining in her brown eyes as she hugged me tight and kissed my cheek. "You are such a good boy! I knew we could count on you."

"It was nothing, mama, really. Easiest game I ever have hunted," I admitted honestly as my cheeks reddened from receiving such adoration.

I couldn't remember ever having a better day than that one. My family was so pleased and proud that they spent the entire day boasting about my success and pampering me while insisting I allow them to do my chores since I'd worked so hard at getting meat.

That night, as we feasted upon the delicious roast my mama had prepared, I couldn't help but think about how easy the hunt had been, how nice the attention was and how I couldn't wait to go out hunting and bring home a sack full of meat once again.