High Noon

A Story by Autumn Takatch

If you want to read this... or not I don't care

High Noon

By: Autumn Takatch

I had been standin’ there, leg cocked, arms a restin’, and gun a swingin’ from my hip. I was a drifter, an ain’t one of them purdy gals that dress all up in that fancy garb they call clothes, an’ strut down the boardwalk like some peacock. I was a gun slinger and nothin’ else.

Raised on my grandpappy's farm with lil’ to wear, but a burlap sack I was quite the looker. Now don’t git the wrong idea here, my life was good compared to most with me bein’ the only child an’ all. Many a families had a whole passel of youngin’s to raise. Sure life had its hardships with me bein’ a missley lil’ girl of five at the time, but now I’m a grown woman the age of twenty and one. I guess some would call me handsome in a sort of rugged and wild type of way, with the whole blonde sunkissed hair flying out in every which direction. My eyes, the color of the blue sky, and some curves to call my own I spose’ is considered to be good physi-cal attributes’.

Enough of that now, back to the present’. Ya’ll already know what a gunslinger is now dontcha’? Well shoot, folks say we cause nothing but ruckus around towns. In my per-spectiv’ there ain’t nothin’ wrong with a lil’ high noon showdown. Dustin’ off my worn stetson that had seen better days, I spit a stream of that tobaccer stuff onto the ground.

It was then that some hollerin’ perked me up right quick. Some wannabe cowboy rode in yankin’ his mounts mouth hurtin’ the poor critter. He was shooting off his there gun like some hotshot spouting somethin’ about a gun fight, so me being me, sauntered over with a sly grin to this here “cowboy” and said “you lookin’ for a gunfight boy?” Course he didn't take too kindly to being called a boy and glared down at me. Why, in all my days had I ever seen such a slimy snake.

Next thing I know I’m being led to one side of town an’ him on the other. I’m lookin’ all around wanderin’ how I got here and some drunk next to the saloon shouts out that dat der’ was Wild Bill, said to be the greatest gunslinger off all. I myself a no body’ from out of town was getting called all sorts of vulgar names that would make my sweet old mother turn over in her grave. So you wanderin’ what I did right, well I stood there my ground and shot words that made him all red in the face and stomp around like a crazed bull.

Before’ I knew it, the clock clicked and Wild Bill readied his stance while I stood there gawking like a complete fool. I found the whole thing funny for some reason even as the clock struck noon signaling the start of the showdown. It rung throughout the whole town of Mercy, Colorado. As I hit that there ground, I grinned and walloped a big “YEEEEEHAWWW!” before I went down smiling in satisfaction as he also fell to the ground….