I Had To Do It

© Kaye Lynne Booth

I had to do it. I couldn't just stand by while he hit her, no matter what she done fer a livin'. Mama wouldn't be happy about me bein' in that saloon, with the type of folks that frequent there. Fact is, I wouldn't have been there ‘cept for that's where the Doc was. Mama ain't been well these past months and yesterday she took a turn for the worse. Doc was in there, playin out a hand of poker, so all I could do was to go in after him. I was heeled, not that I'm any gunfighter, but I can hold my own, so through those swinging doors I went. The smell of whisky was hit me like a wild bull and me wearin' red. I marched in anyway, not allowin' myself to be distracted by the gal dancin' by the pianer or the randy tune fillin' my ears, and headed straight for Doc's table to state my business.

I was waiting for Doc to collect up his winin's when I saw them by the end of the bar. I tried not to stare, but she was awful purty, standin there in her red an black frills, with her auburn tresses all piled up atop her head, just one little ringlet hangin down the side of her face, like an angel. She weren't no angel though. Mama called women like her "hussies". I could tell right off they weren't bein' too friendly. He grabbed her by the arm, movin toward the stairs, and she pulled away, real quick-like. Then he backhanded her. That's when I had to step in.

I just told him that it ain't right, a man hittin' a lady like that, but he didn't take too kindly to it. He told me to mind my business, reaching out for her. I stepped up, puttin myself between them. He breathed his hot, putrid breath in my face before he threw a right hook and I felt the wind brush my ear, as I ducked out of the way. I lashed out with my right, connecting squarely with his nose. A solid crack of bone breaking echoed through the place, which had suddenly become dead still. He went down hard, hitting a table, tipping it over, cards and money scattering every which way. I thought that would be the end of it, so I backed off. But, he got up off of the plank floor and went for his gun. Fore I knew it; my pistol was out, the shot ringin through my head. His shot scattered woodchips inches from my foot. I watched the life drain out of his eyes, as he slumped to the floor in a heap.

Now here I sit, on a rickety cot, with bars on all sides. I'm not happy about what I done, but anyone can see that I had no choice. Anyone, that is ‘cept for the Judge, who happens to be the brother of the man I shot. Doc said Mama's real weak and needs lots of rest. Word is I'll hang tomorra mourin'. I don't know what Mama will do without me bein' there to take care of her. Doc says she's awful upset. Mama always said I had a knack fer messin' things up. I reckon she was right, cause I sure did make a mess things this time. I couldn't help it. I had to do it.