Trudy

By J.C. Hulsey

Ma said I came into the world squirming and screaming and I hadn't gotten much better as I had gotten older. She said I'd been a difficult birth. And that hadn't improved either. I was still difficult.
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"Hello, Budge. You do remember me, don't you? I remember you and your good for nothing brother and I remember what you did to me."
"So. What'cha gonna do 'bout it?"
"This is what I'm gonna do." I pulled the pistol outa my pants and pulled the trigger. Budge grabbed his chest and tumbled back over the rail and into the hog pen.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.C. Hulsey Books
• Release date: Apr 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224949977

J.C. Hulsey

I really can't explain how or why I write. It's like an explosion in my brain and the words come flowing out like a raging river and then other times like a frozen glazier. I wrote a twenty-eight page booklet of poetry over the course of two days and nights. I mention nights because as soon as my head hits the pillow, it's like a switch goes off in my brain and I have to write. J.C. Hulsey J.C. Hulsey has lived in Midlothian, Texas for thirty years. He's a father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. He has been married for 56 years. He enjoys Western movies and TV Shows, (especially the older ones) and reading about Mail-Order Brides. He is also the owner of six cats (all stray cats, showed up on the back porch) and one dog (rescue dog) He worked for 33 years at Bell Helicopter. He served in the USAF for five years, and the Air National Guard for four years. He has always wanted to be an author. He started writing songs in his early twenties. He recorded a couple of songs in the late 1960s. He started writing poetry in the 1970s to share with others. He self-published them on Amazon in 2013. He still felt the need to write something different. He tried writing a book in the 1970s, but it was never finished. In 2014, he felt the urge to write a western novel. However, he needed something different than what was on the market. What about a young Christian Gunfighter? He now has 44 books on Amazon.com

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To all my newfound Facebook friends located all across the world.

CHAPTER ONE

Francis Gertrude O’Brian - (Trudy) 

Peach Tree County, Arkansas River Valley -1870-80

Ma said I came into the world squirming and screaming and I hadn't gotten much better as I had gotten older. She said I had been a difficult birth, and that I never improved. I had two older sisters. Mary and Martha. Twins. According to Ma, they were angels. I knew better. I knew how deceitful and conniving they were. They had everybody fooled . . . but me. 

Maybe the reason Ma thought they were angels is because they were as pretty as angels with their blonde hair, blue eyes, and their perfectly formed bodies. 

I, on the other hand, had bright red hair, emerald green eyes, and freckles scattered all over my face. Where they were small, I was big boned and at least eight inches taller than their five feet two inches. I guess my being so much bigger made me stronger than them. Therefore, I was the one delegated to walk behind the mule to plow the fields.  I didn't really mind the work. It was after the chores were done for the day that I hated so much. That was when my dear sweet sisters would start in on me. 

They were sugar and spice toward me when we were around Ma. When she wasn’t around, they didn't even try to get along. I always wanted to play with them, but they’d call me names, pull my pigtails, hit me with their fists, then run and hide. 

You girls be nice to each other, was my mother’s answer when I complained. 

When we got older the physical abuse stopped, but I think the words that were hurled at me hurt much worse than the pain of their fists. 

Of course, once I was older, I could retaliate when they did something to me. A favorite way was to drop eggs from the hay loft onto their heads. Then one day, it seemed their attitude toward me changed all together. They didn't do things to me like in the past. 

My pa took off right after I was born. He told Ma if she couldn't give him a boy child, then he'd find somebody who could. One good thing about Pa was, he left a farm that was paid for right next to the Arkansas River.

Ma didn't have to worry none about providing a roof over our heads. She did a real good job being both a ma and a pa. She kept the farm running. She did such a good job; it was hard to tell Pa wasn't around. The twins and I learned early on about hard work. 

When we were old enough, we worked alongside Ma. Eventually we three girls were doing the majority of the work. The O'Brien Farm produced enough vegetables to supply the whole county.

Since Mary and Martha had stopped the abuse, I still tried to stay away from them. I became sort of a loner. We still worked alongside each other without any problems. Then, when we were through working in the fields, they went their way and I went mine. It was much easier for me not having to tolerate my sisters. They were enjoying the companionship of boys by the time they were eighteen. I on the other hand wasn't interested in boys. 

I much preferred my own company. I would go for walks in the woods. I’d go wading in a little creek I had discovered and hunt rocks. When I found a small pond where the creek ran into it, I stripped off all my clothes and jump in. One day when I was relaxing in the water, I heard a sound. 

Hey Trudy? You want us to join you? It was our neighbor boys. Bandy and Budge Brister. Everybody in the county knew what troublemakers they were. Either you come on out or we're coming in. 

Go away. Can't you see, I ain't got no clothes on? 

Oh yeah. We know that. That's why we want you to come out. We gonna treat you real nice. We gonna show you a good time. 

Please, just go away. I'll scream. 

Go ahead and scream. Ain't nobody gonna hear you way down here. 

Go in and git her, Budge. 

You go git her. You're always telling me to do things. 

Alright, we'll both go git her. 

They came into the water after me. I put up a struggle, but there were two of them. They dragged me to the grassy bank. Budge held me down while his older brother started taking off his clothes, and said, Hold her still. She's squirming around too much. 

She's a feisty one alright. How come you git to go first. You git to go first in everything we do? 

I go first 'cause I'm oldest. Now, hold her still. When I'm done, you kin have a go. 

He did what he wanted with me. It did hurt, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the humiliation I endured that day. When the boys were gone, I lay there for a little while, then I crawled back into the cool water. I washed and scrubbed my body. I tried to remove the filthiness of the incident. I lay in the cool water thinking of ways I could retaliate against the Brister boys. 

I couldn’t get anything settled in my mind, so I got out of the water, got dressed and went back to the farm. I didn't tell anybody what had happened. 

CHAPTER TWO

The next few days were hotter than usual, and there was a hatred inside of me that kept festering. I had to get even with them Bristers. 

What can I do? I'm just a girl. Wait a cotton-picking minute! I been doing a man's work for years. I reckon I can handle something like this without any problem. 

I went into Ma's bedroom, opened the bottom drawer of the dresser, and pulled a big gun from under some folded clothes. I didn't know a gun was so heavy. I walked out of Ma's bedroom and out to the barn, then wrapped the gun in a flour sack and hid it in a barrel of grain. I’d wait until dark, then I would pay a visit to our neighbors. The hatred I felt for them was festering like a boil and, like a boil needs to be lanced to heal, so did my hatred. 

I waited until about midnight. It was a clear night with the moon and stars shining brightly. I went to the barn and dug the pistol out of the grain barrel, then put it in the waistband of my pants. I put the bridle on and scurried onto the back of old John Brown, the mule that pulls the plow. I sat up straight and kicked John Brown in the ribs, then headed for the Brister’s place about five miles south. It was easy riding in the moonlight.

When I came to the little rise above their house, I pulled up on John Brown’s reins. I almost lost the gun when I slid down his side onto the dirt road.               

I pushed the pistol back into my pants, then turned toward Brister's house and tried to see what was going on. How was I going to do this? How badly did I want to hurt them? The feeling I had right down was that I wanted to kill them. They had no right to do what they’d done, and they should have to pay. Could I take a man's life? The way I feel right now, yes, I would be able to take a man's life. I walked to the barn that was about a hundred yards from the house, stepped inside, and looked at the house. 

You go do like I told you. I don't like having to repeat everything I tell you to do. 

Aw, Pa. It’s almost midnight. How come Bandy don't have to feed the hogs? You're always telling me to do it while he jest sets there drinking with you. 

Git yourself out yonder and don't talk back. 

I watched as Budge carried two buckets toward the barn. I hurried through the barn and came out beside the hog pen in back, then Budge came around the corner whistling an off-key tune. I waited until he was bent over the rail and I stepped up behind him.

Hello, Budge. You do remember me, don't you? I remember you and your good-for-nothing brother, and I remember what you did to me. 

So. What’cha gonna do ‘bout it? 

This is what I'm gonna do. I pulled the pistol outa my pants and pulled the