Dash for Justice

Dash for Justice

Michael O’Gara

Copyright © 2014 Michael O’Gara

All rights reserved.

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the long hours of hard work by this author.

This is a fictional work coming from the author’s imagination including the persons, events, places, organizations and companies.  Any similarity to actual persons, events, places, organizations and companies, is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 1

Dash’s future was determined by fate and a quick temper on a warm spring day. Dash sat on a stump watching his uncle trying to teach his older cousins to shoot. Dash did not like his two cousins. They were bullies. His uncle was kind enough, but Dash always knew he was a relative his uncle had to take because he was kin. Kin looked after kin. It was some kind of rule among the folks here.

Uncle David was one of the more successful men in the valley. Part of it was the good land his family had handed down. Most of it was that his uncle had a knack for farming and worked hard. He was the only farmer in the valley who hired farm hands.

Dash’s cousins were not getting the hang of shooting and Dash could tell his uncle was getting frustrated. Dash didn’t mind being here watching. He loved the smell of the gunpowder and the sound of guns. In fact, though he’d never held one, guns held a special fascination for Dash.

His uncle said to his oldest son Brent, Ya got ta squeeze the trigger, boy. Ya can’t jerk it and close your eyes and bullets don’t grow on trees.

Dash could see where Brent’s bullets were hitting the dirt of the hill behind the target. They were all over the place. Dash wondered why one hadn’t hit the target just by chance. His other cousin Brian had done even worse when Uncle David had tried to teach him.

Brent fired six shots and didn’t hit one target or even come close.

David looked at Dash, If I’s gonna waste bullets, I reckon I jist might as well give Dash a try. Come here, boy.

Dash got off his stump and went to his uncle who was reloading the pistol. He loaded it and handed it to Dash, You have a try.

Dash took the pistol. Dash liked the weight of it, the feel of it in his hand, and even the idea of it. He enjoyed having the pistol in his hand and took a moment to enjoy it. For the first time since his parents had died, Dash even smiled.

His uncle said, Go ahead.

Dash did it without thinking. In one fluid motion he cocked the hammer, pointed the gun with one hand, and squeezed the trigger. One of the bottles exploded. Dash loved it. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so alive, or so comfortable with something.

His uncle said, Ya done good. Give it another try.

Uncle David figured it was just beginner’s luck, but it was a small thing and Dash seemed to enjoy it.

Without thought, Dash cocked the gun and repeated the feat and another bottle died. Brent and Brian were now glaring at Dash. Dash didn’t pay much attention; his cousins were always glaring at him. Uncle David was rubbing his chin which was something he did when he was thinking hard about something.

David said, Git ‘em all.

Dash did it without conscious thought. It was bang, shatter, bang, shatter, bang, shatter, bang, shatter, in rapid succession. All six bottles were gone.

David looked at Dash, Boy, I thinks ya’s a natural shooter and they says there ain’t no such.

Brent jumped up and took a run at Dash and swung at him. Dash was blindsided and took the hit on the side of his jaw. Brent had never hit Dash before. Before it had always been just pushing, shoving, and the occasional tripping. Blood flew out of Dash’s mouth. He spit out a tooth and before his uncle could react, Dash hit Brent on the side of the head with the butt of the pistol and Brent fell into a heap on the ground. David grabbed the pistol from Dash and stuck it in his belt. He looked at Dash.

Boy, what git inta ya?

Dash said, Being bullied by those two all the time when you weren’t around and I’ve had enough.

Dash had no sooner said it, then he realized that was something else that made him an outsider here. He talked differently from the people here. He didn’t fit in. He’d been here for years and he was still an outsider.

David looked at his son Brian who was glaring at Dash. David was no fool. At that moment, he knew his sons had been ganging up on his nephew. He also knew, based on what he’d just observed, his sons would be in danger when Dash got older. He’d have to do something to correct his sons’ behavior, but he couldn’t let Dash stay here in case he couldn’t correct the bad behavior of his sons.

David looked at Brian, Son, I dun’t holt with bullying. Ya both are older than Dash and the two of ya pickin’ on ‘im jist ain’t right.

Brian looked at the ground, Yes, pa.

David went to Brent and as soon as his back was turned, Brian glared at Dash. Dash didn’t know why he did it, but he pointed his finger at Brian and made like he was firing a gun. Brian went pale as a ghost. David picked Brent up and carried him home. Brian and Dash followed along. Dash kept behind his cousin. Brent came around when they got him home. His mother was fretting when she saw the knot on his head. She didn’t seem to notice Dash’s swollen jaw or the blood on his clothes.

David took Brent into the bedroom he shared with his brother. His mother sat down and David laid Brent down. Brent’s mother stroked Brent’s head. Dash watched from the kitchen for the curtain to the bedroom hadn’t been drawn.

Brent said, My head is painin somethin awful ma.

They were the last words Brent ever said. He died in his mother’s arms. Dash sat at the kitchen table and watched as Aunt Miriam held Brent’s body. She bawled and bawled as she rocked back and forth holding her dead son.

Aunt Miriam and Brian stayed inside while Uncle David and Dash dug the grave. Dash’s jaw hurt with every movement. They dug the grave by the trees on the hill top overlooking the creek. It was a pretty place.

They dug without a word passing between them. When they finished, David led Dash back to the house. Aunt Miriam had wrapped Brent in a blanket and sewed it shut. Uncle David carried the body to the grave. The family watched as uncle David laid the body in the deep hole.

David and Dash filled the hole back in. Aunt Miriam and Brian went back inside.

Dash asked his uncle with difficulty through his swollen face, Are you going to kill me?

David looked shocked. He paused for a few moments and said, No, but you can’t stay here. I’ll have to find a suitable place for you.

Dash said, I never fit in here anyway. I’m sorry, Uncle David. I didn’t mean to kill him.

David said with a sadness, I know.

Chapter 2

Dash listened most of the night to his aunt’s crying. He even heard Brian crying. The next morning, Dash was woken early by his uncle.

David simply said, Get ready, ya’s leavin’. Put ya’s belongins in this here bag, and Uncle David handed Dash an old canvas bag.

Dash did as he was told and left the cabin. His uncle had hitched the wagon and Dash climbed up on it. They travelled almost all day without saying a word. They came to the town of Cray’s Crossing. David parked in front of the sheriff’s office and left the wagon. He went inside.

Dash figured he’d be put in prison or hung. At this point, Dash was so depressed he didn’t care. His uncle came out with a giant of a man well over six foot tall. He had a white goatee beard, white hair, and wore a badge. He wore a holstered side arm.

David said, Say howdy to Sheriff Walker, Dash.

Dash said, Hello, sir.

Walker said, He’s a right young un. How old?

Twelve.

Walker said, And ya expect me to believe he’s fit for it?

David said, Let’s go outside town a piece and I’ll prove it ta ya.

Walker nodded, I’ll get my horse and a few things and foller ya, but ya better not be a wastin’ my time.

They went out of town a piece and the sheriff set up some bottles by a hill. He walked back and said, Show it.

David said, Git down, Dash.

Dash did as he was told and got out of the wagon. David took the pistol Dash had hit Brent with, and loaded it. He handed it to Dash. Shoot them bottles.

Dash did it without thinking. He hardly looked and he hit five of the six.

The sheriff looked at the boy, then David, The young un hardly even aimed and ‘em bottles is a goodly piece away.

David said, He done it accordin to his natural way.

Sheriff Walker said, I s’pose.

David said, Well?

Walker said, I’ll take ‘im and learn ‘im to be a lawman.

David looked at Dash, The sheriff will learn ya ta be a lawman. Thet suit ya?

Dash said, Yes, sir.

Dash didn’t see as he had much choice, so he figured there was no use in saying no.

They went back to town and David said, Goodbye, Nephew, and handed Dash his bag and the pistol he’d killed his cousin with. Dash took them and got down. Uncle David drove away. Dash checked the pistol and found it wasn’t loaded. He shoved it under his belt and stood there waiting to be told what to do.

Sherriff Walker looked at Dash and said, Foller me, Dash.

Yes, sir.

Ya ken call me sheriff.

Yes, Sheriff.

Dash followed the man into the jail and to a corner room. It was small and had a sleeping platform and a small well-worn chest of drawers. There was a night pot in the corner and a metal wash basin on top of the chest as well as a water bucket.

Walker looked at Dash, Well and pump’s through the back door there, and Walker pointed.

Dash said, Yes, Sheriff.

Ya’s chores is ta make sure the water buckets is full, empty the night pots in the mornin and rinse em, sweep out the jail, and run errands and such as I tells ya. Ya gotta go to ta school house in the mornin. Lawman’s gotta be able to read and write. Figurin don’t hurt none either.

Dash said, Yes, sir.

Walker said, And ya gotta go ta church regular like. Can’t have no heathen lawman.

Dash had always attended church so said, Yes, Sheriff.

Dash had been brought up in church and the teaching had taken and Dash believed. It was how he knew losing his temper and killing his cousin was wrong; very wrong. Dash also knew he was truly sorry about it and God would forgive him.

Walker said, Some nights, we’ll have prisoners and I expect ya’s gonna keep an eye and ear out and sleep on the floor by the desk stayin away from thems what’s locked up. If in there’s trouble, ya come fetch me right quick.

Dash said, Yes, Sheriff.

Walker smiled, Other evenins, I will learn ya to fight dirty and how to clean guns and the like. That’ll be part of your chores once ya learn. Proper cleanin of guns is important to keepin ‘em workin and ken be the difference betwixt ya bein dead or alive. Understand?

Yes, sir. Clean guns work.

That’s right, boy. Grit and dirt gums up the works, don’t ya see. Come on. I’ll take ya to see Mrs. Mallory, the school marm.

The sheriff started off and Dash dropped his bag in the little room and followed. The sheriff stopped to lock the door and saw the pistol in Dash’s waistband.

Walker asked, You takin thet gun to school, Dash?

Yes, Sheriff. A lawman needs to stay close to his gun.

Walker said, True. You got bullets in it?

Dash said, No, sir, but I figured there’s no harm in getting in the habit of carrying it.

Walker smiled and started walking.

The one room school house was near the end of Shop Street near the church. It was a small one room building that was whitewashed. It appeared to be well kept. Walker went up the four steps and opened the door. The teacher stopped and looked at Walker and Dash.

The teacher said, Good morning, Sheriff.

Walker took his hat off, Good mornin, Miss Mallory. This here’s Dash McCoy. He’s my ‘prentice lawman. I was wantin’ ya to learn ‘im to read, write, and cipher good. He can come mornins.

Miss Mallory smiled, Hello, Dash.

Dash said, Good day, Miss Mallory. I am very pleased to meet you.

The teacher looked at Walker, I will do my best, Sheriff.

Walker