Chapter 45

Karen

I kept putting the hat carrier off. I didn’t want to go first, so I wasn’t taking any chances. When there were only three and me left I drew. The slip was sealed with tape. The last three drew.

The organizers called us all in a group.

“The numbers are sealed to prevent any switching.”

One guy carried a clipboard numbered to equal the number of shooters signed up. The contestants walked up to the clipboard man ... gave their name and handed the slip to him. The clipboard guy opened the slip an wrote down the name next to the number ... one number at a time.

The number slip was stashed in a pocket.

AAARRRGGGHHH! Nobody knows when they shoot!

“It’s all part of the game. You’ll start when called.”

When every number had been listed we all moved over to the Hawk throw.

“First runner! Karen Post!”

No! I don’t want to go first! I want to watch the others so I’ll know where to go! No! No! No!.

The seas parted and I had no choice ... Shit! Shit! Shit! I unlimbered my hawk and eyed the target ... I moved six inches back from my original stance and gave it all I had.

THWACK

Three judges started stopwatches.

It STUCK! Good God Almighty ... it stuck! and I was off and running to station number one.

At station one I carefully loaded, powder in the measure, replace the violin peg stopper.

Out loud I said, “POWDER-Patch-BALL ... short starter-patch knife-cut the patch-replace the knife-ram the ball-half cock-open the pan-prime-close the pan.”

I looked up the hill. Holy Shit ... a white painted steel buffalo at least a hundred yards up the hill. I threw up the gun to my shoulder-full cock-took my sight ... set trigger-caress the trigger.

BLAM! Ting!

I hit it ... I hit it! I killed the white buffalo ... umh ... isn’t that bad luck?

I was off again running to station two ... three strides and I was running in ankle deep water ... hydroplaning in three inches of water ... fresh water ... it wasn’t there yesterday ... and it was cold!

I have to lie on my back in this? Those dirty bastards brought in a water truck just for me ... OH JOY!

I reached station two ... a log on a slight hill ... the hill was just tall enough to keep me out of the water ... except for my feet. My patches were a strip of pillow ticking cut from a yard of cloth. I’d been chewing that strip since I started the run.

“POWDER-Patch-BALL ... short starter- grab my patch knife-cut the patch-replace the knife-ram the ball.” Half cock. Knee up and look for a target.

On the way up I saw a stuffed pink Easter bunny on the other side of the log. Shoot it? I set it on fire I was so close. Off and running ... skating on water and wet grass.

Station three. I was sure of the station ... it was the only one with a site marshal ... and a small aluminum canoe. The canoe was upside down.

“Back to the hill. Load ... turn ... take your shot.” A painted steel cut out of an indian holding a knife to a white woman’s throat.